A Summoner in the Wizarding World

Chapter 35: The Four Champions



After dinner, Dumbledore merely announced the Goblet, the Age Line and left, not before glancing at the Weasley twins who looked outraged that they cannot put their names. Barty Crouch Jr. also set for his chambers, no doubt re-confirming with Voldy about their plan. Discussions ensued about who would be the Hogwarts champion, at which me and Hermione left for the Griffindor Common Room.

"Harry," she started as soon as we found our seats, "you're not putting your name in the Goblet, are you?"

"Of course I won't, Hermione - but that's not to say others can't."

"Why would someone want to make you join, unless..." she looked at me, horrified, "the Tournament was shut down for mortality rate, and champions can't leave lest they lose magic!"

I nodded in reply.

"Can we do anything about it though? I thought underage wizards aren't allowed to participate?"

"No... The Goblet itself doesn't care if you're underage or even if you're the one personally entering - the contract will be formed regardless. That's why Dumbledore warned older students to not help younger ones put their names in. Getting a signature is easy enough, with all the marked homework lying around."

"I suppose there's the last enchantment - the fact that the Goblet only recognizes three? No offense but I'm sure there are older students who would be 'more qualified'?" Hermione glanced at me nervously, relieved that I'm unperturbed.

"Ideally, yes - but remember, if Voldemort is entering me, he'll figure out a bypass. Who's to say he won't, hypothetically, kidnap and torture a Ministry employee to find out? I know from Sirius that he did so to kill my parents..."

Hermione looked scared for a moment, but steeled herself and wrapped me in a tight hug, presumably not wanting to make me panic also. Her body was shaking in worry, both about Voldemort running free and the potentially fatal tasks.

I returned the gesture, though my thoughts went to the final confrontation with one of the strongest Dark Wizard of all time and all the ways it can go wrong. Harry got away as Voldemort deemed him unworthy of a full duel - but if I show myself with tricks rivaling Dumbledore, his attitude would be quite different.

We stayed that way for a while, not wanting to let go first as both slowly fall into an exhausted slumber. Of course, the teasing that followed when the entire house found us snuggling overnight was legendary, but that would be a story for another time.

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The following day passed in a blur. Hermione convinced me to send a letter to Sirius asking for help about possibly entering a deadly tournament, with a second letter sent out of her sight asking for Padfoot's relationship advice and letting him know all the "juicy" details before that's shown in a Rita Skeeter article.

By dinner of Hallowe'en, everyone was talking about who entered and who tried but got memorable mishaps (read: Fred, George and Lee's beard). Soon after the plates are cleared, Dumbledore strode to the center of the podium and started reading out the names.

"Durmstrang champion -" a tongue of flame leapt from the cup, sending a strip to his hand "Viktor Krum!"

The Bulgarian Seeker stood up amidst applause and head towards the end of the hall, presumably where Crouch Sr. and Bagman were waiting.

"Beauxbatons champion -" another strip landed "Fleur Delacour!"

This time, about half of the students looked miffed, one crying for not being chosen, and the others started to cheer. Most of the latter being male, as I and Hermione noticed. My girlfriend gave me a suspicious look but spared a pinch when she saw I only politely clapped and did not linger too long on the half-Veela.

"Hogwarts champion -" the hall now deafeningly silent, as consist mostly of Hogwarts students "Cedric Diggory!"

As the Hufflepuff rose to his feet, a message from my subconscious notified me that "The timeline is correcting itself". And right on cue, the fourth piece of parchment flew from the Goblet, landing on the Headmaster's outstretched hand.

Students began to notice something's wrong when the dismissal did not come. The Hall was alive once more, bustling with speculation about what the issue might be - Hermione perhaps having a premonition, squeezing my hand slightly too tight. And the dreaded moment came.

"The fourth champion..."

there was silence

"Harry Potter!"

and all hell broke lose. Draco looked like he was punched, Barty staring at me inquiringly, Dumbledore called me to leave my seat, professors looking dumbstruck and all except Griffindors staring at me as if I was a big fat cheater - being the Boy-Who-Has-Plot-Armor, guilty as charged.

"Well... through the door, Harry," said Dumbledore. He was giving me the I'm-so-disappointed look that would've discouraged the original Harry, which I simply shrugged to Snape's outrage.

Stepping over a dozen trips with my shadow forewarning, I stepped into the chamber along with the three champions. They were grouped around a fire, as per the theme, and looked about as impressive as your ghost-story teller in a campsite. Which is to say, not a lot.

Bagman and Crouch then arrived, the former congratulating me on being a champion and the latter dryly explaining to everyone present how my participation would be mandatory and there's nothing Karkaroff, Madame Maxime or Snape could do about it.

Barty then entered as things got heated, growling:

"Maybe someone's hoping Potter is going to die for it." - quite accurate, as the culprit himself states.

As the ruckuss died down (Dumbledore unfortunately not shaking me screaming "Harry did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?!"), Crouch announced the first task to be on 24th November and champions are not to ask or accept help from teachers. While Dumbles seems quite content with said rule, Karkaroff and Maxime would both be cheating as much as humanly (or half-giantly) possible, reminding me that said rule was definitely not binding.

"Harry, Cedric, I suggest you go up to bed," said Dumbledore, smiling at both of us. "I am sure Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise."

I successfully stopped myself from rolling my eyes, glanced at Cedric, who nodded, and we left for our Common Rooms. 


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