"Briar Lupin had dreamt, predicted, foreseen death more times than she cared to admit. If she actually remembered all of the times it had occurred, at least."
Sequel to Blue.
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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
SHOUTING OTHERWISE
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LIVVY HAD BEEN PUSHED forwards by so many of the students surrounding him that he didn't comprehend what was going on. It wasn't until he joined Harry, who was just as worried, that he felt all right, even though he was yet to process the situation. And, when he did, he was reaching the same door Krum and Fleur and Cedric had been through, the protests of his sister began to echo throughout the hall.
"You can't make them compete! They're not old enough! They're not as experienced as the other three! It's unfair on both the other schools and Harry and Livvy! You can't make my brothers compete!"
The door closed behind them. The three actual champions — Livvy wasn't a champion, he wasn't a champion, he was just incredibly unlucky — were standing around the fire. They looked like heroes, the kinds books were written and drawn about. He wasn't. Livvy was his own main character, yes, but of a story about dead mothers and psychic sisters and genius adoptive mothers and werewolf adoptive fathers and a crush on his best friend — but wait, which best friend?
Livvy would've sighed if the circumstance was different. His current contemplation of whom he fancied practically haunted his thoughts. Trust it to become his main concern, when he couldn't even fully take in what was going on. It all just felt like a dream. A horrible, nasty, painful dream, where he'd wake up and realise that he was just having a nightmare for eating cheese before bed or something.
"What is it?" asked Fleur, her French accent thick. It would've been more attractive than pretty, Livvy thought, if he actually liked girls that way. But, he didn't, and he was just admiring how nice her accent was. "Do they want us back in the Hall?"
He desperately wanted to explain what happened but didn't know how. He didn't know where to start, because where did it start? If it started the night before, when the goblet of fire was presented to the school, he'd have to know who put his name in. But who would put his name in? Aster liked him, Aster talked to Livvy often, because they were both gay. Aster wouldn't do this. No one else over seventeen hated him. Not enough that they'd want him in danger like this, at least.
"Extraordinary!" let out Ludo Bagman. Livvy froze as he patted his arm. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen... lady... May I introduce — incredible thought it may seem — the fourth and fifth Triwizard champions?"
Livvy hated the heavy-heartedness of this. He hated the silence, he hated the tension, he hated the nervousness. He wanted to be back in the hall, with his friends, or with his sister, talking about something that wouldn't mean much in a couple years, because he was just fourteen, he wasn't old enough—
