eleven. delaying the inevitable

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-CHAPTER ELEVEN-
~delaying the inevitable~

THE FEW MINUTES IT took for Dumbledore to come downstairs with the wand expert (who turned out to be Ollivander, the man Viola had bought her wand from), were severely awkward

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THE FEW MINUTES IT took for Dumbledore to come downstairs with the wand expert (who turned out to be Ollivander, the man Viola had bought her wand from), were severely awkward.

She audibly let out a sigh of relief when the two newcomers arrived. Having to stand in silence while Fleur and Cedric chatted away and Bagman stood, looking around the room, smiling, hadn't been very pleasant.

"Good morning, champions!" said Dumbledore merrily as he entered the room. "I am sorry you had to be excused from your lessons, I daresay you must all be terribly disappointed about that," he said, eyes twinkling.

Just then, another three people entered the room: Karkaroff, Maxime and Crouch, none of them looking exceptionally pleased to be there. Crouch was still looking ill and Maxime and Karkaroff were silently brooding, casting subtle glares at Dumbledore every once in a while.

"Now!" said Dumbledore. "If the champions could please— where's Harry?"

"In a broom cupboard," muttered Viola.

Apparently she had said it louder than she had intended. "I beg your pardon, Miss Jugson?" asked Dumbledore.

Viola tensed and looked up at Dumbledore's twinkling eyes. Apart from when he had read her name out when it came out of the Goblet of Fire, she had never had a conversation with him— not that that had exactly been a conversation either.

"Oh, er, Rita Skeeter took him into that cupboard to do an interview or something, sir." She pointed at the cupboard in question.

"I'll be right back," said Dumbledore, still smiling— Viola had never realised how often he dawned a cheerful grin until now.

"Alright!" said Bagman. "Well, us judges have to sit at the table— champions, if you could sit in those seats over there." He gestured towards five seats by the door and walked towards his own chair, the other judges following suit.

Viola looked down to the cupboard to see Dumbledore chatting to, presumably, Rita, and grinned to herself. Harry would have definitely hated that interview.

True enough, he came out a few seconds later, face stained slightly pink from embarrassment and looking as though he was seriously considering their plan B murder option.

Viola took a seat beside Cedric— the champions, with their long legs, had already reached the chairs— instead of the one at the end, not wanting to be rude. Harry took the one beside her once he reached them and shot an irritated look at Rita, who was pulling an acid green quill from her bag.

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