AIANES (Theodore Nott) H.P AU

Chapter Sixteen

"Is extolling his boss a job requirement or why does he speak of Crouch as though galleons fall from his arse?"

Harry snorts into his goblet at his sister's words, earning himself a roll of her eyes and a small scrunch of her nose at the garish action.

Olympia has never had trouble feigning interest, even when it comes down to the most obsolete of topics; However, at this very moment, this is not really her case. She is sitting with the champions and the judges at the top table, and Percy, one of the many Weasley children she was introduced to during the World Cup, keeps on blabbering about Mr. Crouch's greatness.

"How come he's not here?" Harry asks Percy.

The redhead beams at the prospect of spilling more information about his superior. "I'm afraid to say Mr. Crouch isn't well, not well at all. Hasn't been right since..."

Here we fucking go, Olympia thinks, holding back the urge to rub a hand over her face and pull at her hair. Instead, she settles for glaring at her plate, which is yet to be served. She's hungry and her empty stomach is only fueling her poorly repressed rage. Her attention, however, focuses on the small menus that are lying in front of everyone.

Her eyes skim the lovely penmanship written in red ink, there are several options, such as pork chops, stew, and goulash; She decides she hates it, all of it. In all honesty, she is just being bitter, seeing as she actually finds the dishes being offered quite appetizing. Her foul mood is only a side effect of knowing that, had it not been for the Tournament, she would now be in Greece enjoying a roasted lamb with her grandfather. Of course, that's not the case, because instead she's stuck in Hogwarts while Percy Weasley talks her ear off.

A defeated sigh slips past the Sarantos heiress' lips, her eyes roam the Great Hall's expense. She catches sight of the many people, her attention on the reporters that have been invited by both Dumbledore and Cornelius Fudge, who also sits on the High Table, to publish the event on tomorrow's Daily Prophet.

Thankfully, there's no sight of Rita Skeeter.

Surprisingly, time goes by very quickly. Shortly after, when everyone begins eating, so does Olympia. The young girl tries her best at diverting the attention from herself, answering with polite nods as she keeps her mouth stuffed to excuse her wordless replies.

She can do this, she thinks. She has been raised with far more vicious people and far more vicious questions.

This is easy in comparison.

And yet, despite how easy it should be, she's not quick enough to stop the roll of her eyes when Karkaroff chastises Viktor after he begins to hint at Drumstarng's location to Hermione.

However, after realizing just how raw and uncivilized her action was, Olympia begins to look around the table and Hall, praying no one is looking at her; thankfully, once no one points out her rudeness, she lets a relieved sigh escape her lips, though she doesn't miss the way in which her friends sit together in one of the tables on the far left of the room. She watches them laugh without so much as a clue of what has triggered their endless snickering, but of course that changes when they all look in her direction and roll their eyes at the same time, clearly imitating her.

The Slytherin witch bites her tongue to smother her own laughter, shoulders threatening to shake with mirth. She ends up settling for a shake of her head, making sure the rest of her friends see her. But her eyes, on the other hand, look for a certain brunette's reaction; she finds herself disappointed when she can't seem to locate him anywhere.

But before the Nott heir's absence can make her grow restless, the double doors of the Great Hall open loudly for the third time during the night. And as though she has called for him herself, Theodore walks through them, earning everyone's attention.