The Undercroft Gauntlet

Chapter 10: In the Shadow of the Goblet

Amidst the murmurs, Professor Aesop Sharp rose to the Headmistress' podium. Without a word he flicked his wand and the candles and braziers of the Great Hall were relit. Then, with a wave of his hand, food and drink suddenly filled the tables on silver platters. As the feast appeared, Talen crossed his arms across his chest and looked to his lap.

Whatever hunger Talen had started the day with disappeared. As his peers eagerly began their breakfast, the stone walls of the hall carried an eerie ambience: continuing to only reverberate with the iss-ings of whispers. No one dare speak at full volume, less their identity be revealed to the audience.

"This is ridiculous."

"Beauxbaton is going to win a third year in a row."

"What would happen if he couldn't compete? Would the goblet choose another champion?"

"What does a magically bound contract entail?"

"I bet you ten galleons he'll be dead in the first event."

"How did he even find the bloody goblet? Some moron must've helped him."

"He shouldn't even have been allowed to enter. He's more patient of St. Mungo's than he is a student. We should send them an owl― I'm sure one of their crip beds is empty."

Talen could feel multitudes of eyes beginning to stare at him. With heat building on his neck, he slid off the bench and rose to his feet, continuing to tightly hug himself. Being the only one standing, everyone in the hall looked at him ― even if only for a fleeting moment. Talen locked his darkly circled eyes with as many people as he could, his upper lip curling in a sneer. He felt his jaw lock. His teeth ground together and his temples pulsed.

There was only one direction that Talen would not direct his fury towards: an unassuming corner at the end of the hall. As, while Talen would not look at him, he could perceive Sebastian Sallow's lingering gaze. A gaze he didn't want to meet just yet.

As Talen's glare swept through the tables, the ambience of conversation ― typical of an average school day ― began to grow, and the murmurs of the Hogwarts Triwizard Champion soon were drowned out.

His lungs still feeling as though a weight was pressed into them, Talen raced out of the hall. He opened one of the giant double doors just enough to slip his body through, not allowing it to resound loudly behind him. 

Finding himself alone in the corridor, Talen slowed his pace till he was taking only half-steps. The air was thin. His knees turned weak. Talen put his hand against the wall and steadied himself as he walked.

Ominis―

The spectral black dog―

I should have been chosen! Talen cried in his mind. I should have entered! It's my fault―

"Talen!" An accented voice cried behind him. "Talen, wait!"

Talen swiveled on his heel, but as he did so, his weak knees gave way. He put his back to the wall and slid to a seat, his knees close to his face. 

Without question, Natsai Onai mirrored Talen as she approached, sitting beside him against the wall.

"Are you disappointed?" Talen asked dryly.

"That I didn't get chosen?" Natsai asked. "Or that it was Ominis who was chosen as the alternative?"

Talen frowned, "both."

"I'm disappointed that I will not be representing Hogwarts," Natsai explained without missing a beat, "but I have nothing against Ominis."

Talen blew air through his nose, "that's something, I suppose. I'm sorry you didn't get chosen. I know you were looking forward to it."