The Great Hall was spotless. The walls were gleaming, the floors glittered—even the caretaker, Mr. Filch, looked relatively clean, wearing a patched up set of robes that looked nicer than his usual, old dusty ones. Banners that represented each Hogwarts' house swayed above their designated tables under the glittering enchanted ceiling that portrayed a lovely view of the stars, and behind the high table was a banner that bared the Hogwarts' crest proudly.
Tonight the tables were heavily laden with various types of foods—there were the usual English dishes, though a few foreign plates could be seen amongst the goblets and serving spoons. No doubt, the house-elves were trying to appease the fussy French, which Talia had noticed were sitting along with the Ravenclaws. Some of the girls had sour looks on their faces, and were picking at their food daintily—"zis food iz to 'eavy," one complained, staring down at a leg of ham in disgust. Her friends all agreed quietly, murmuring phrases in French as to not offend the Ravenclaws, though Ravenclaws were smart, and some understood the French language. They just smiled though, if a bit stiffly, content with having the presence of one of the opposing schools at their table… even though their food was being insulted.
As it were, Talia was just glad that the Hufflepuff table acted as a divider between the Ravenclaws and the Slytherins. I am not jealous, she kept reminding herself from time to time; it did help a bit though—not having Draco drooling at the sight of the French girls.
The Durmstrang students had decided to sit along with the Slytherins, much to the distaste of one Ronald Weasley. Occasionally Talia would catch the redhead turning around in his seat, trying to catch a glimpse of the infamous Viktor Krum, who coincidentally sat across from Talia and Draco. The boy looked dreadful—he was handsome, of course, but it appeared that he was suffering from a cold, and it showed. The tip of his nose was pink, there were dark shadows underneath his sleepy eyes, and he moved sluggishly. He talked with fellow Durmstrangs, and Slytherins, though he kept his voice low, as to not strain his sore throat. However, his cold did not stop him from expressing great interest as he (and the other Durmstrang students) studied the enchanted ceiling, and the golden goblets and plates.
It appeared that the Durmstrang students were enjoying themselves far more than the Beauxbatons students were.
"You know, you need to drink tea," Talia said absentmindedly as she helped herself to a rather large portion of chicken wings.
"Why should I—"
"Not you," Talia told Draco impatiently, looking pointedly at Viktor Krum, "I was talking to him."
Viktor Krum quirked an eyebrow; the younger students had been all too scared (or star struck, he couldn't really tell) to talk to him, and the girls were only interested in getting his autograph and saying that they'd talked to the infamous Viktor Krum, but here was this girl who was suggesting—no, telling him, to drink some tea. This was certainly interesting.
"As I was saying, you need to drink tea," Talia continued, side-eyeing Viktor as she poured herself a goblet of orange juice, "with lots of honey and lemon—and a leaf of mint. It'll help with your cold—if anything, you'll be able to breathe properly. It'll hold you over until you get yourself to the Hospital Wing—ooh, and when you're there, play it down a bit, or else Madam Pomfrey will make you stay overnight, and that is just simply dreadful."
Viktor was silent, and all the Durmstrang students who were within hearing rang looked on curiously. The Slytherins were used to Talia's odd ways by now, but not the Durmstrangs, and so they were curious as to what Viktor Krum might say or do. It was not every day that they could witness a strange little Slytherin girl practically bossing around their celebrity.
"Thank you," said Viktor after a moment, a small smile on his face. "I vill… drink this tea."
"You're welcome," smiled Talia.
"Vhat is your name, if I may ask?" went on Viktor, much to the surprise of everyone.
"Natalia Snape," said Talia, grinning as she extended a hand over the table to shake, "everyone calls me Talia—my dad's that guy up at the high table, the one in black robes. He's a professor here—teaches Potions."
Viktor shook her hand and let his eyes wander up to the high table. He spotted Talia's father immediately, and quirked an eyebrow.
"You certainly 'ave your mother's looks," Viktor said hesitantly, and Pansy, who was seated only two people (Crabbe and Goyle) away from Talia, snorted rather loudly.
"Thanks," said Talia stiffly, trying not to jump over Crabbe and Goyle to strangle Pansy.
"She looks exactly like her father, if you ask me," Pansy mumbled rather nastily, keeping her eyes on her plate.
"Yeah, well no one asked you, did they?" spat Talia, making a couple of Durmstrang students' chuckle, "so be a dear and keep your piggish nose out of other people's business, will you?"
Pansy gasped, dropping her spoon onto her plate. She stared at Talia with disbelieving eyes, before narrowing them and saying viciously, "Oh, you just wait until I tell Prof—"
"What?" scoffed Talia, "you'll tell my father on me? Honestly, Pansy, you're getting a bit too old to still be a nosy parker. In case you haven't noticed, I live with him during the holidays—using him as a scare tactic is rather pointless, don't you think? So do me a favor and fuck off, yeah?"
If Pansy had feathers, she'd be ruffling them angrily. She had enough common sense to keep her mouth shut, knowing when she was beat; if she shot back another insult it would only serve in embarrassing her more, and she was far better than that. She went back to spooning pudding onto her plate, if a bit forcefully than before. Oh, how she hated Talia with a burning passion!
Silence ensued. The Slytherins knew that there was something going on between Pansy and Talia—it was rather obvious how much they disliked each other, but never had they seen Talia go at it so viciously. They'd all doubted her placement into their house in the beginning, but that little stint proved that Talia was right where she belonged.
"Anyways," said Talia rather loudly, breaking the silence, "has anyone seen those rolls stuffed with cheese and ham? My dad confiscated the ones I tried smuggling outside earlier."
It only took a second before all the Durmstrang students, and most of the Slytherins', burst out in laughter. Crabbe clapped Talia on the back, and Draco nudged her with his elbow playfully. Talia simply rolled her eyes.
"I like you," said Viktor with a grin, "you are funny."
"Thanks—but I'm being serious. Has anyone seen those rolls?"
Dinner passed on smoothly after that, and Talia's little problem with her feelings was completely forgotten by the time Dumbledore called the attention to himself. He began with introducing the two new wizards who sat amongst the professors—Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. It appeared that the panel of judges for the Triwizard Tournament would be including these two Ministry officials, who were the ones responsible for bringing back the Tournament.
A casket was then asked to be brought in, and Mr. Filch quickly tended to it, approaching the headmaster with a jewel encrusted wooden chest, which he placed on the high table.
Dumbledore talked about three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, which would take place. He did not say what they were, but said that they would test the chosen champions on their magical prowess—their daring—their powers of deduction—and of course, their ability to cope with danger. Should the chosen champion make it to the very end with the highest total of points, he or she would receive the Triwizard Cup.
Talia watched on curiously as the headmaster took out his wand and tapped the top of the chest three times. With a loud creak, the lid pulled back, and from within Dumbledore took out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. There was nothing remarkable about the way the cup looked; it was not ornately decorated, or made of fine metal, but its contents were what had everyone staring at it with fascination.
The cup, which Dumbledore had called the Goblet of Fire, was filled to the brim with dancing, blue-white flames.
"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete..."
Dumbledore talked a bit more, saying that to ensure that no underage witch or wizard put their name into the cup, he would draw an Age Line around the cup once it was placed in the entrance hall.
After that, it was time for bed.
Talia stood up along with everyone else, munching on a cookie she'd managed to snatch before the food disappeared from the table. Her mind began to wander, and she looked at the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students curiously—where would they sleep? She was about to ask Viktor when Durmstrangs' headmaster, Karkaroff, came bustling about.
"Back to the ship, then," he was saying, before turning to Viktor and asking, "how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?"
Talia snickered rather loudly at that; Karkaroff was fussing about Viktor, and it reminded her of her mother.
"I am fine," said Viktor, looking back at Talia for a moment, a small smile on his lips, before telling Karkaroff, "I vood like some tea, an' honey, vith lemon an' a leaf of mint."
A little smile settled on Talia's lips after hearing that.
Karkaroff looked at his prized student quizzically, before nodding his head, "I shall ask for the house-elves to bring you a pot."
Viktor nodded, and walked off with the rest of his fellow peers, but not before looking over his shoulder and saying, "Goodnight, Teh-lee-ah."
"Teh-lee-ah," snickered Draco once they were back in the common room.
"You gotta work on that accent," Talia laughed, unbraiding her hair.
"I rather say Dumbly-dorr," grinned Draco.
"You're a terrible person, Malfoy," chuckled Talia, shaking out her curls.
"And you love it, Snape."
Talia's eyes widened and she knew he'd only said it teasingly, but that did not stop her cheeks from turning pink, nor her heart from skipping a beat. Why was this suddenly happening to her? Why was she feeling all these weird and uncomfortable emotions for her best friend? Where were those feelings coming from—when did they start?
They were closer now—almost losing your mother and being transfigured into an animal tended to bring people together, she supposed, but this just… this just wasn't right, was it? The topic of boys usually made her cringe, but now…
Talia quickly said her goodnights and scurried up to the girl's dormitory; she was just tired, that's all. She left Draco sitting in front of the fireplace, alone with only his thoughts for company.
If only she knew that he was thinking about his feelings too.
AN: So, what do you think? I hope I did Viktor justice.
Anyways, this chapter wasn't a filler... things are starting to get set up into place and it's only a matter of time before... well, I won't spoil it.
Next chapter includes some Remus/Isabella...