Chapter 78 - An Unexpected Turn

The Great Hall was quieter now than it had been before the selection even began.

Every student's gaze was fixed on Dumbledore's hand, tense, waiting to understand what had happened. Dumbledore only stared at the parchment, long and hard, as though he meant to bore a hole straight through it.

Slowly, he read out a name. "Harry Potter."

This time, there was no applause at all.

"Merlin!" Millicent tugged at Pansy. "You were right. This really does feel like the setup for a ghost story."

Dumbledore called Potter's name and beckoned him forward. Potter stood up like a struggling student suddenly called on in class, lost, terrified.

It took Hermione Granger giving him a gentle shove before he seemed to understand what he was supposed to do. He stumbled toward Dumbledore, weaving unsteadily.

A path he'd walked for nearly 4 years, and yet he moved as though he'd never set foot on the Great Hall floor in his life.

Harry Potter. A champion no one had blessed.

"How did Potter pull that off?" Pansy blinked rapidly. "Even you said there wasn't a viable way."

Praeris shook her head with a rueful smile. "I'm hardly omnipotent."

A pause. Then she said, "I suspect, in all likelihood, this wasn't Potter's doing."

Daphne didn't believe it for a second. She let out a scoff. "You're saying someone went to great lengths — not to make themselves champion, but to make Potter champion?"

"Is that really so impossible?" Praeris propped her head on one hand and smiled at her. "For Potter, is becoming champion some kind of good thing?"

"Isn't it?" Millicent was sprawled across the table.

Praeris shook her head. "He's 3 years younger than the other champions. That's more than 2 years — nearly 3 — less knowledge and experience. The Triwizard Tournament has claimed lives before. Even the judges' safety isn't guaranteed."

"Or maybe he's just that desperate for the spotlight," Daphne said, her voice dripping with disdain. "Isn't that how he always is? Except for last year, which year hasn't he made a huge spectacle of himself? Well, now he can be as happy as he likes."

"Is anyone really that desperate for the spotlight?" Millicent asked, curious.

Daphne's look turned meaningful. "How could there not be?"

She mouthed a single word, and the girls all burst out laughing.

Everyone understood. She'd mouthed "Lockhart."

Millicent nudged Praeris. "Why do you think it wasn't Potter?"

Praeris said, "Judging by his expression. Unless he's a born actor, he was definitely more shocked than we were."

Pansy nodded. "Unbelievable. Looks like it really wasn't him, then, no one can deceive your eyes. That's wonderful!"

"Wonderful? What's wonderful about it?" Daphne said, incredulous.

Pansy laughed, the sound full of ill intent. "Since Potter didn't do it himself, we get to enjoy the show. So what if he got the chance? Doesn't mean he can handle it. And Hufflepuff's temper is still burning hot! Potter's about to get a real taste of what it feels like to have a mouth and no way to explain himself!"

Several Slytherins, Praeris among them, turned in silent agreement toward Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, their faces settling into the expressions of eager spectators.

FIGHT! The bigger the brawl, the better!

We love to watch!

After a long wait, Professor McGonagall finally emerged. Her expression was grim, her eyes full of worry.

"Quiet! All of you, quiet!" Professor McGonagall said. "Now, everyone return to your respective dormitories,"

Praeris moved with the crowd toward the exit.

Both Hufflepuff and Slytherin had to head downward to reach their dormitories.

On the way back, she heard a yellow-trimmed girl say indignantly, "They still haven't said how this is going to be handled! This isn't fair to Cedric!"

"It's not fair to the other champions either," a yellow-trimmed boy added.

"Prince —"

Praeris snapped out of her eavesdropping, slightly embarrassed, and realized the person speaking to her was Miles Bletchley, the Slytherin Keeper.

Miles was a big fellow. Millicent said he was a first-rate Keeper.

"What is it?" Praeris looked at him curiously.

Miles flashed a brilliant smile. "I have something I want to ask you."

Praeris thought of the misconceptions some of the other houses held. They often believed Slytherins ought to be sinister and shadowy, like the hook-nosed old wizards in Muggles' imaginations who lurked in basements brewing poisons.

Wait. Why does that sound familiar?

Stop right there. Any further thought would be impolite.

But in truth, Slytherin had its share of the sunny type. Marcus, for instance. He really was quite sunny most of the time, at least in front of Praeris, like a big, not-too-bright dopey dog. And Miles.

Praeris raised an eyebrow and turned back to the trio. "You three go on ahead."

She followed Miles until they reached an empty classroom.

Miles sat down on one of the desks and, without any preamble, asked an utterly bizarre question. "Prince, did you and Marcus break up?"

"Huh?" Praeris was covered in question marks.

Miles explained, "Marcus got signed by the Jamaican National Quidditch team, as a reserve. He's going to North America for work."

"Oh. Well, congratulations to him, then. He can achieve his dream. But we were never dating."

Praeris was genuinely happy for Marcus. He'd always wanted to make Quidditch his lifelong career.

Miles looked taken aback, then smiled even more brightly. "That's great, then. Would you be willing to give me a try?"

"Huh?"

Praeris felt she had produced far too many question marks today.

Miles said it plainly. "That's it. Would you be willing to try dating me?"

Praeris hurriedly pressed her hands downward. "Wait, wait. Aren't you into the Miss Stewart type?"

"You even know that?" Miles said, astonished. "You actually pay that much attention to me?"

Praeris said ruefully, "No, no, no. Someone else mentioned it. That's not important. Why would you like me?"

Miles laughed. "That's a normal thing. Surely you don't think you're unworthy of my affection?"

"I mean, we don't really interact much," Praeris said, baffled.

Miles nodded. "True enough. But I didn't decide I liked you casually, without knowing anything. My third year, that was when you'd just started. First time I heard of you. Everyone thought you and Marcus were dating..."

"Can we please skip this topic!" Praeris shut her eyes in despair.

"Hahaha, as you wish, my lady." Miles's smile grew even more hearty. "Second year, we lost to Gryffindor again. Everyone was really down. Maybe you didn't notice, but I was in the tent too at the time, holding Marcus back to stop him from beating up Draco."

"Uh. May I say I do remember?" Praeris said.

"Of course. That's even better." Miles held up two fingers. "That year, you told Draco off twice. At first I thought you were very imposing, all right, all right, don't look at me like that. At first I thought you were very fierce, hahaha. But later, I came to think you were very imposing."

Praeris said, "That was because Draco was sulking like a dog."

Miles said, "Hmm. True. Everyone was fed up with it. My lady, this is my confession. Can we talk a little less about other men, please?"

Praeris didn't argue with him.

But she thought to herself: You were the one who brought them up first, weren't you?

And you brought up two at once, at that.

"I heard our victory last year had your shadow behind it. When you faced off against Moody in the entrance hall, I was watching from the stairs too," Miles said. "I was captivated by you, Praeris. Some people think you're too formidable. Some are afraid of your poisons. But I don't feel that way."

Miles suddenly fell silent. Praeris didn't rush him. She only waited for him to finish what he wanted to say.

Miles spoke again. "All right. Truth is, I can't quite put it into words. These are just the moments that left the deepest impression. I can't pinpoint the exact moment, the exact place, where I saw some brilliant poise of yours or heard some unique turn of phrase that made my heart stir."

He took a deep breath. "In short: you are dazzling. You were born to shine. Those who fear you are afraid of having their own flaws illuminated by your light."

"If you like someone, you confess. I'm not willing to wait until my passion fades and you've given your heart to someone else. I don't want to look back then and regret never having expressed my feelings. I'm willing to be a star beside the moon. Would you give me a chance, to stay by your side?"

Praeris frowned and opened her mouth to say something.

Miles suddenly raised a hand to stop her, putting on a heartbroken expression. "I understand. Please, don't tell me the answer. At least leave me something to hold on to."

Praeris smiled. "Bletchley, a confession isn't the finish line. It's the bugle call charging toward victory."

"Oh!" Miles clutched his chest. "Praeris, do you realize how incredibly cool you sound right now? All right, all right, it's my fault. I was too impulsive. In that case, may I be your ordinary friend? For now?"

"For now?" Praeris asked.

Miles said, "My lady, you have to give me a chance to level up, don't you?"

Praeris had already rejected him once. She couldn't bring herself to reject him a second time.

She could only nod. "It's an honor to know you, Miles."

"An honor to be your friend, Praeris."

,

At the entrance to the Slytherin common room.

This was the downside of a confession within the same house. Whether it worked out or not, both people had to walk the same path back before curfew.

Rejected, but Miles didn't look the least bit heartbroken.

At the common room entrance, he waved to her. "Praeris, may you have sweet dreams."

Praeris said, "That's what I wish for you as well."

,

"Hah —"

Praeris collapsed wearily onto her bed.

Too many things had happened that day.

She truly hadn't expected Miles to seek her out for a confession. She'd thought he'd run into some kind of trouble and needed her help.

How exactly had Miles come to like her?

He said he was captivated by her.

Praeris certainly knew she was formidable. That was universally acknowledged, and also her own precise assessment of her abilities.

But being formidable had nothing to do with being liked. Even someone utterly ordinary might have someone who loved the flower blooming in the mundane.

It was precisely because even Miles himself couldn't clearly explain afterward why he'd come to like her that she felt so perplexed.

Once, she hadn't understood what Pansy liked either. Later, she thought maybe Pansy just liked blond hair and gray eyes. But even when Jacob had those, Pansy had still ended that relationship.

Praeris had actually lied to him. Her memory was excellent. She didn't need Miles to remind her of what had happened at all.

When she'd mocked Draco, Miles, sitting not far away at the same table, had once muttered under his breath that she was "terrifying." At the time, Marcus had tried hard to defend her, racking his brains before squeezing out: "She's very nice and gentle most of the time."

Praeris had made no reaction to that. She was perfectly happy to be a terrifying woman. Far better than having others think she was weak and easy to bully.

Emotions truly were illogical things. Miles, who had once said he was afraid of her, had actually come to confess.

"Praie, what did Bletchley want with you?" Millicent climbed onto Praeris's bed, hugging a large, fluffy owl plushie.

That plushie was the Christmas gift Praeris had given Millicent the year before.

Praeris blinked. "Nothing much. He just asked a few questions."

"Eh, just questions? He made it so mysterious." Millicent buried her face forcefully into the plushie, her voice muffled.

Praeris said, "Did you know? Jamaica signed Marcus. He's going to be a national team reserve!"

"Ah! Really!" Millicent immediately lifted her head. "That's amazing! He really did it! Aaah, I hope I can become a famous commentator too. Maybe I'll run into Marcus on the pitch someday!"

"Of course you will," Praeris said gently.

,

The next morning, Praeris sat at the long table in the Great Hall as usual, spreading jam on her bread.

She'd thought she'd see a Draco fuming over Potter today. She hadn't expected that after mocking Potter for a bit the night before, Draco had already put the matter completely out of his mind.

"As long as you hold it close, you'll hear whatever sound you want to hear," Draco said proudly. "You can hear anything."

Draco had been obsessed with fixing broken things since last summer. The object he was holding now was called a "Triton Conch."

Praeris set down her bread, picked up the conch, and examined it from every angle. "Then I want to hear the sound of ocean waves."

She brought the conch to her ear, and sure enough, the soft shushing of waves.

Praeris said in surprise, "I really heard it!"

Draco said smugly, "Look at you, making a fuss as if you've never seen the world. This is just a small experiment of mine."

"Can I have a listen too?" Miles appeared behind the two of them.

Draco looked Miles up and down and nodded. "Miles? Didn't expect you to be so curious."

Praeris handed the conch to Miles. Miles smiled at her and took it. "Thank you, Praeris."

Draco's voice turned strange. "You two are pretty chummy."

➤ Next: The Clever and the "Clever"