Chapter Sixty Two - Fourth Competitor

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never dream of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

Chapter Sixty Two - Fourth Competitor

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-==(oIo)==-

\""/

The meeting went quite long into the night. Dumbledore 'confessed' to having spent his time since the battle with the basilisk researching horcruxes and what Riddle had used to make them. He explained about Riddle's penchant for collecting trophies of those he had bested when he was a small child. Algernon called Riddle a 'magpie' who was attracted to 'shiny things'.

When asked what he believed the horcruxes to be, it took some strong and determined persuasion for Dumbledore to state he believed Riddle had sought out treasures belonging to the founders, to use them as the soul containers. He had developed a list of items that were known to have belonged to the founders but had seemingly been lost in time.

He had spent as much time as he could interviewing people and searching for them. However, he was very reticent to hand the list over, as he claimed he'd not had time to investigate whether or not the items still existed. Algernon simply told Dumbledore to hand the list over under his own authority as head of the Department of Mysteries - as it was his department who were responsible for such matters - or face the consequences. Very reluctantly, Dumbledore did so.

Once they got out of Dumbledore everything they thought they were going to get, Algernon went through the list and said, "We've already found the Gaunt family ring; and, yes, it was a horcrux. As you surmised, the diary was another; and Mister Potter dealt with that. We also found Ravenclaw's diadem, here, in the castle; another horcrux. And, we also found Hufflepuff's Cup in a vault in Gringotts; yet another horcrux. That makes four found and dealt with."

Dumbledore was absolutely gobsmacked so much had already been done and so many had already been found.

Harry couldn't help but snicker at the old man's expression.

Pretending not to notice Dumbledore's expression, Croaker continued, "We know the sword of Gryffindor is not a horcrux, because it became infused with basilisk venom; the substance by which Mister Potter destroyed the diary horcrux. Slytherin's locket is a real possibility; as is his potion athame, Gryffindor's cape brooch and gauntlets, Ravenclaw's necklace and rings, and Hufflepuff's necklace and rings.

"We've searched the entire castle and know there are no other such objects here. The Gaunt family home only held the ring, so there's nothing there now; the Riddle family manor held nothing; the orphanage where he grew up was demolished in the late 1960's, while Riddle was still running around - so, if there was anything there, he would have moved it somewhere else.

"However, when interviewing some of the original muggle children, we found evidence of something horrible that occurred to some of the children when they were on a day trip to the coast. When we searched the area we found a cave hidden by blood wards. Once we got inside we found someone had beat us to it, and replaced something in a giant goblet with an ordinary locket. Inside the locket the - thief - left a note. It read 'I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret'. It was signed simply as R.A.B."

"What?" said Sirius, suddenly looking up in shock and staring intently at Algernon. "Who signed it? Do you have the locket with you?"

Algernon frowned back and reached into his pocket. He drew out what looked like a standard locket on a gold chain, and handed it to Sirius.

Sirius, almost reverently, took the locket in both hands and stared down at it. Harry could see his godfather looking at it in almost awe and had tears in his eyes. "He - he - In the end - he fought for the Light."

"You recognise it, Lord Black?" asked Algernon.

Sirius, still staring at the locket in his hands, nodded. With an emotion-choked voice he replied, "It belong to my brother. R A B is - was - Regulus Arcturus Black. I always wondered what happened to him."

Everyone was quite shocked to hear that. It was Algernon who spoke first. "Do you know what he may have done with it? The original?"

"Yeah," replied Sirius, finally looking up. "I think it's the locket in the display case at my place - The Black House.

"I wanted to toss it, but my house elf, Kreacher, told me it was Master Regulus's locket. I kept it for sentimental value."

"House elves don't make those sorts of mistakes," said Algernon. "If he says the one at your place is 'Master Regulus's locket', then it stands to reason that it's the one your brother switched out with the one that was in the goblet in the cave. I need you to invite me to the Black House once we're done here, tonight."

"Of course," said Sirius, staring back down at the locket.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and said, "It would be helpful if we knew how many he made. One is horrendous; to know he made more is - disconcerting."

After a moment or two, Algernon said, "Six."

Harry looked across and mused, "I thought it was seven."

Shaking his head, Algernon said, "No. Seven parts. Six horcruxes and one he needed to retain within himself to stay alive. Four have been found and dealt with. If the locket at the Black House is another, that'll make five.

"Don't forget the two - wraiths - that came out of my head and Professor Quirrell," said Harry. "That would make the seven."

"Yes," mused Algernon. "I forgot to mention we believe Voldemort was looking to create his last horcrux the night he attacked the Potters. That's why his soul split and a part of it latched onto the wound in your forehead. The rest of it fled. And that would have been the part found to have been possessing poor Quirinus Quirrell."

"Those two parts looked to rejoin as they fled out the window of the Great Hall," said Harry. "That means he could still make another if - when - he manages to become - corporeal again."

"And it also means we can stop searching for the horcruxes until then," said Cygnus. "That is, of course, if the locket in Sirius's possession proves to be a horcrux."

"All that work," muttered Dumbledore. "I had no idea."

"It was not your job to search for them, Dumbledore," Algernon firmly said. "It was always the responsibility of my Department. If you'd come clean earlier, we'd have been done earlier."

"But the prophecy still states..."

"I know what the prophecy states," interrupted Algernon. "One must die by the hand of the other; and that can be defined in any number of ways. It does not mean that Mister Potter must face Riddle in battle, as you seem to believe."

The look on Dumbledore's face showed that was exactly what he believed.

Cygnus snorted and asked, "And just how would a boy - who hasn't even finished his schooling yet - manage to defeat a powerful wizard with over sixty years of studying the arts under his belt?"

"I suspect it's with 'the power the Dark Lord knows not'," replied Dumbledore.

"So, you believe 'the power the Dark Lord knows not' is how Mister Potter will ultimately defeat him," said a disgusted Algernon. "The prophecy does not state that, Dumbledore. It only states Mister Potter will have a power Riddle doesn't know about; not that it will be the power by which he'll defeat him. You made yet another bold leap in assumption. There's that inner Gryffindor of yours."

When Dumbledore looked up with an expression of slight shock and anger, Algernon asked, "That never occurred to you; did it, Dumbledore?"

After a long moment, Dumbledore quietly replied, "No; it did not."

From where he was sitting, holding hands with Daphne, Harry had an epiphany. He glared back at the old man and quietly said, "You son of a bitch! You were setting me up as your personal weapon. You were setting me up to face him one-on-one."

Dumbledore turned his face away in shame.

"I thought so," snarled Harry. "That's why you kept using words like 'sacrifice' when you wanted to talk to me. That's why you tried to keep me ignorant of my heritage, by sending me to grow up in the muggle world; so, I wouldn't know what I would actually be giving up if I - sacrificed - myself on the alter of your so-called Greater Good."

Cygnus glared at Dumbledore and snarled, "Is that true, Albus? Was it your intent to mould Mister Potter into your personal weapon against Riddle?"

"No!" snapped Dumbledore. "Harry was placed with his muggle aunt and uncle because Harry and Petunia shared the same blood as Lily. As long as Petunia accepted Harry into her home - and, as long as Harry called Petunia's home as his own - he was protected there." Then he sighed and said, "Protected from harm from the wizarding world, if not the muggle world. I never thought his relatives would harm him. I still can't understand why they would; at least, I couldn't until Harry's impassioned speech on their behalf in the Wizengamot."

"That's something else you were wrong about, Albus," said Harry. "Petunia was not the only living blood relative of my mother."

"What?" asked Dumbledore, clearly surprised.

"You leapt to yet another incorrect assumption, Albus," Harry quietly replied. "Petunia was not the only living relative of my mother. Just because the only one you knew about was Petunia, did not mean she was the only one.

"My mother had biological aunts and uncles. That's aunts and uncles that shared the same blood. There's a whole Evans family out there. Hell, there's a second cousin named Mark Evans who lived not far from me in Little Whinging with his father, a second cousin once removed closer to our same blood relative, my maternal great grandfather."

Dumbledore sank into his chair and quietly said, "I had no idea. I'm so sorry, Harry."

Cygnus cleared his throat and said, "Now, Albus, let's talk about those - oh, so precious - blood wards. Are you aware the protection Lily imbued in Harry was irretrievably weakened when you transferred it from Harry to encompass the entire Dursley property?"

Dumbledore cringed again and quietly said, "Not at the time, no. I did not learn of that until later."

"Are you aware that - if you had left it alone - Harry would still be protected by those blood wards? That it was you, and your further false assumptions, that has now left Harry bereft of those protections?"

"I am now," Dumbledore quietly replied. "But, at the time, I did what I thought was best."

Harry snorted in anger and amusement. "The evil that is in the world almost always comes of ignorance, and good intentions may do as much harm as malevolence if they lack understanding," he quoted. "Albert Camus - a 20th Century French philosopher."

"Quite," sighed Dumbledore.

"You've made one hell of a lot of assumptions, Albus," said Cygnus. "And most of them were wrong. Stop trying to manipulate things to suit your false beliefs. Stop trying to manipulate young Harry."

Dumbledore just looked down at his desk and nodded. He then said, "There is one more important matter."

Everyone waited for him to extrapolate on his claim.

"Well?" said Croaker. "Enough of your theatrics, Dumbledore. Out with it."

Dumbledore just glanced at Algernon before he quietly said, "Severus has shown me his dark mark is getting darker. It tells me Riddle is nearing the time of his return."

No one moved except Daphne, who quietly drew in a deep breath in shock.

"Do you still think Harry needs to enjoy his childhood?" asked Algernon. "It seems to me - based on that - that his time as a child is over."

When they left a little while later, Sirius floo'ed direct to the Black House and allowed Algernon in to collect the locket from the display case in the library. Cygnus floo'ed directly back to Greengrass Estate after giving Daphne a kiss on her cheek and a hug for both teens. Harry walked Daphne down to the Slytherin common room before heading up to the Eagle's nest.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

The weekend passed without incident. Both Harry and Daphne slept in on the Saturday due to the late night the night before. Hedwig delivered his mail during lunch but was a bit put out he wasn't ready to accept it in the morning.

For the rest of the weekend, the Eight slogged through their homework and trained using the dummies. Harry went all out in his physical and magical training with the dummies. No one, but Daphne, understood why. And neither teen told their surprised friends.

On the Sunday, Harry received a note from Sirius letting him know the locket proved to be the elusive final horcrux.

At lunch, he passed a note to the Headmaster. The first time he'd ever done such a thing.

AD

SB and AC said L was H. It's been dealt with.

HP

Dumbledore read the note and nodded back at Harry indicating he understood. He was pleased. And immediately burned the note.

For the next few weeks, classes passed by with the Eight getting firmly back into the routine of school. In DADA, Moody attempted to place Harry under the Imperious Curse, and Harry learned he was significantly immune to it. It seemed to please the battle-scarred man.

September passed in to October and Harry headed towards being maudlin again. On Monday, the 27th of October, they received notice the arrival of the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang would be the evening before the Halloween Feast, which would also be the official arrival welcoming feast of the other two schools. Harry would have to attend.

After the students arrived - Beauxbatons by a huge flying Cinderella-like powder blue carriage drawn by six huge winged horses, and Durmstrang by a huge masted ship that looked like it had recently been a shipwreck dredged off the bottom of the ocean - the student body trooped inside for dinner. After waiting for the Hogwarts students to take seat - the Eight sat at Hufflepuff - the Beauxbatons students sat at Ravenclaw, and the Durmstrangs sat at Slytherin.

Harry could see the Durmstrangs quickly doffed their heavy cloaks in the warmth of the Great Hall. However, the Beauxbatons seemed to be shivering in their powder blue silk, lightweight robes.

Harry sighed and said to the others, "It looks like someone forgot to tell the Beauxbatons that Hogwarts was in Scotland, and that we're quickly heading towards winter here."

He then turned to look at the Durmstrang contingent and could see Malfoy and his minions were looking quite smug. When he scanned the faces of the Durmstrang students, he recognised the face of Victor Krum among them.

Surprised, he turned back to the others and said, "I didn't know Victor Krum was still a student."

Neville snorted and said, "Yeah, Ron Weasley looked like he was going to come in his pants when he spotted him."

"Neville!" exclaimed Hannah. "That's not very nice."

"No less true, though," said Hermione, with a smug look.

"Hermione!" squealed the girls. Hannah mock-glared at her and said, "These - boys - of ours are corrupting you, Lady Hermione."

Hermione had the decency to blush at the mild rebuke. Harry and Neville snickered until Daphne and Susan, who were sitting alongside them, whacked them both on the back of their heads with their bare hands.

"Hey!" they both said.

"Behave, you two," said Tracey, with a slight smile.

Up at the staff table, Filch, the caretaker, was adding chairs. He was wearing his mouldy old tailcoat in honour of the occasion. Harry was surprised to see that he added four chairs, two on either side of Dumbledore's.

"But there are only two extra people," Harry said. "Why's Filch putting out four chairs? Who else is coming?"

No one replied as the staff were now entering. They filled up to the top table taking their seats. Last in line were Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime.

When their headmistress appeared, the pupils from Beauxbatons leapt to their feet. A few of the Hogwarts students laughed. The Beauxbatons party appeared quite unembarrassed, however, and did not resume their seats until Madame Maxime had sat down on Dumbledore's left-hand side. Dumbledore, however, remained standing; and a silence fell over the Great Hall.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and - most particularly - guests," said Dumbledore, beaming around at the foreign students. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

One of the Beauxbatons girls still clutching a muffler around her head gave what was unmistakably a derisive laugh.

"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," said Dumbledore. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

He sat down, and Harry saw Karkaroff lean forward at once and engage him in conversation.

The plates in front of them filled with food as usual. The house-elves in the kitchen seemed to have pulled out all the stops; there was a greater variety of dishes in front of them than Harry had ever seen, including several that were definitely foreign.

"What's that?" asked Neville, pointing at a large dish of some sort of shellfish stew that stood beside a large steak-and-kidney pudding.

"Bouillabaisse," said Hermione.

"Bless you," smiled Harry.

"It's French," said Hermione, "I had it on holiday, summer before last. It's very nice."

"I know," smiled Harry, helping himself to some. "That it's nice; not that you enjoyed some summer before last."

The Great Hall seemed somehow much more crowded than usual, even though there were barely twenty additional students there. Perhaps it was because their differently coloured uniforms stood out so clearly against the black of the Hogwarts' robes. Now that they had removed their furs, the Durmstrang students were revealed to be wearing robes of a deep blood red.

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-==(oIo)==-

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Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again. A pleasant sort of tension seemed to fill the Hall now. Harry wondered what was coming.

"The moment has come," said Dumbledore, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. "The Tri-wizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket..."

"The what?" asked Susan.

No one replied. They were too focussed on the Headmaster's words.

"... just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mister Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation..." there was a smattering of polite applause, "... and Mister Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps because of his fame as a beater, or simply because he looked so much more likable. He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand. Bartemius Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced. Remembering him in his neat suit at the Quidditch World Cup, Harry thought he looked strange in wizard's robes. His toothbrush moustache and severe parting looked very odd next to Dumbledore's long white hair and beard.

Harry thought, 'Heil Hitler.'

"Mister Bagman and Mister Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Tri-wizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining me, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts."

At the mention of the word 'champions', the attentiveness of the listening students seemed to sharpen. Perhaps Dumbledore had noticed their sudden stillness, for he smiled as he said, "The casket, then, if you please, Mister Filch."

Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall, now approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students; Dennis Creevey actually stood on his chair to see it properly, but, being so tiny, his head hardly rose above anyone else's.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mister Crouch and Mister Bagman," said Dumbledore as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways; their magical prowess - their daring - their powers of deduction - and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."

At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing.

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Tri-wizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector - the Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore now took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames.

Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," said Dumbledore, "I will be drawing an age line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon..." Dumbledore continued.

Harry suddenly burst into laughter. It was easily heard by all, due to how quiet everyone was.

Dumbledore frowned back. "Have I said something funny, Mister Potter?"

Standing, Harry said, "Yes, sir; very much so."

When Dumbledore didn't respond but, instead, appeared to be waiting, Harry continued, "If all you're going to put around the Goblet is an age line, sir, it seems you're not really interested in keeping out those who are not of age."

"I assure you, Mister Potter," said the old man, puffing himself up, "an age line will be sufficient."

"Uh-huh!" replied Harry. Looking around the Hall, he said, "I offer twenty galleons to any of age student who will submit the name - Ron Weasley of Hogwarts - to the Goblet, for me."

"What?" squeaked young Mister Weasley.

Turning to the boy, Harry said loudly, "Well, you've been telling everyone in range of your proud boasts you want to compete. I'm giving you the chance."

"I'll take that!" said Marcus Flint, standing up and grinning at the Slytherin table.

"Stop!" barked the Headmaster, angrily, before Harry could accept the offer. "I - accept your point, Mister Potter," he said more calmly. "I shall place other protections around the Goblet."

"Thank you, sir," said Harry. "Could you also include in those 'other protections' wards that would stop someone using a house elf, post owl, or other creature from dropping names in. You also might want to make sure someone can't just wad the parchment into a ball and lob it in, or make a paper aeroplane and simply allow it to glide in.

"Then, of course, someone could levitate the cup, or the stand on which it's placed, out of the warded area, enter the name and levitate it back. Or, two people working together with a piece of rope..."

"Enough!" bellowed Dumbledore glaring back. They locked gazes for a few moments with Harry smirking before the Headmaster almost visibly wilted and sighed. "I shall ensure that the Goblet is well protected, Mister Potter. That will be enough from you."

Harry gave an almost mocking bow before he retook his seat.

"As I was saying," said the Headmaster, back to the entire Hall, "I wish to impress upon you all, that any of you wishing to compete need to understand that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the Goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the Goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

Harry and the group rose with the other students.

"I have a really bad feeling about this," said Harry to Daphne as they began to leave.

"You're not actually thinking..." started Daphne.

"Hell no!" stated Harry, a little loudly. "I have absolutely no intention of taking part in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. I do not have a death wish."

They were level with the Slytherin table now, and Karkaroff had just bustled up to his students.

"Back to the ship, then," he was saying. "Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?"

Harry saw Krum shake his head as he pulled his furs back on.

"Professor, I vood like some vine," said one of the other Durmstrang boys, hopefully.

"I wasn't offering it to you, Poliakoff," snapped Karkaroff, his warmly paternal air vanishing in an instant. "I notice you have dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting boy."

Karkaroff turned and led his students toward the doors, reaching them at exactly the same moment as Harry and the Seven. Harry stopped to let him walk through first.

"Thank you," said Karkaroff carelessly, glancing at him. And then he froze. He turned his head back to Harry and stared at him as though he couldn't believe his eyes. Behind their Headmaster, the students from Durmstrang came to a halt, too. Karkaroff's eyes moved slowly up Harry's face and fixed upon where his scar should be.

Harry smirked back. "It's not polite to stare, Headmaster," he said.

The Durmstrang students were staring curiously at Harry too. The boy with food all down his front nudged the girl next to him and pointed openly at Harry.

"Yeah, that's Harry Potter," said a growling voice from behind them.

Professor Karkaroff spun around. Mad-Eye Moody was standing there, leaning heavily on his staff, his magical eye glaring unblinkingly at the Durmstrang headmaster.

The colour drained from Karkaroff's face as Harry watched. A terrible look of mingled fury and fear came over him.

"You!" he snarled, staring at Moody as though unsure he was really seeing him.

"Me," said Moody grimly. "And, unless you've got anything to say to Potter, Karkaroff, you might want to move. You're blocking the doorway."

It was true. Half the students in the Hall were now waiting behind them, looking over one another's shoulders to see what was causing the holdup.

Without another word, Professor Karkaroff swept his students away with him. Moody watched him until he was out of sight, his magical eye fixed upon his back, a look of intense dislike upon his mutilated face.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

As the next day was Saturday, most students would normally have broken their fast late. The group, however, were not alone in rising much earlier than they usually did on weekends.

When they went down into the Entrance Hall, they saw about twenty people milling about it, some of them eating toast, all examining the Goblet of Fire. It had been placed in the center of the Hall on the stool that normally bore the Sorting Hat. A thin golden line had been traced on the floor, forming a circle ten feet around it in every direction.

"Anyone put their name in yet?" Harry heard Ron Weasley ask a third-year girl eagerly.

"All the Durmstrang lot," she replied. "But I haven't seen anyone from Hogwarts yet."

Someone laughed behind Harry. Turning, he saw Fred, George, and Lee Jordan hurrying down the staircase, all three of them looking extremely excited.

"Done it," Fred said in a triumphant whisper to Harry. "Just taken it."

"Taken what?" said Ron.

"The Aging Potion, dung brains," said Fred.

"One drop each," said George, rubbing his hands together with glee. "We only need to be a few months older."

"We're going to split the thousand Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins," said Lee, grinning broadly.

"I'm not sure that's going to work, you know," said Hermione warningly. "I'm sure Dumbledore will have thought of this; especially, after what Harry said last night."

Fred, George, and Lee ignored her.

"Ready?" Fred said to the other two, quivering with excitement. "C'mon, then - I'll go first."

Harry watched, fascinated, as Fred pulled a slip of parchment out of his pocket bearing the words 'Fred Weasley - Hogwarts'. Fred walked right up to the edge of the line and stood there, rocking on his toes like a diver preparing for a fifty-foot drop.

Then, with the eyes of every person in the Entrance Hall upon him, he took a great breath and stepped over the line.

For a split second Harry thought it had worked - George certainly thought so, for he let out a yell of triumph and leapt after Fred. But, next moment, there was a loud sizzling sound, and both twins were hurled out of the golden circle as though they had been hit by Banishing Charms.

They landed painfully, ten feet away on the cold stone floor. To add insult to injury, there was a loud popping noise, and both of them sprouted identical long white beards.

The Entrance Hall rang with laughter. Even Fred and George joined in, once they had gotten to their feet and taken a good look at each other's beards.

"I did warn you," said a deep, amused voice, and everyone turned to see Professor Dumbledore coming out of the Great Hall. He surveyed Fred and George, his eyes twinkling. "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mister Summers, of Hufflepuff; both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though, I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours."

Fred and George set off for the hospital wing, accompanied by Lee, who was howling with laughter. The group, also chuckling, went in to breakfast.

The decorations in the Great Hall had changed this morning. As it was Halloween, a cloud of live bats was fluttering around the enchanted ceiling, while hundreds of carved pumpkins leered from every corner. Harry led the way over to Dean and Seamus, who were discussing those Hogwarts students of seventeen or over who might be entering.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

While they were breaking their fasts at the Gryffindor table, the group talked amongst themselves.

"Listen!" said Hermione suddenly.

People were cheering out in the Entrance Hall. They all swivelled around in their seats and saw Angelina Johnson coming into the Hall, grinning in an embarrassed sort of way. Angelina came over to them, sat down, and said, "Well, I've done it! Just put my name in!"

Later, the students from Beauxbatons were coming through the front doors from the grounds, among them, the veela-girl. Those gathered around the Goblet of Fire stood back to let them pass, watching eagerly.

Madame Maxime entered the hall behind her students and organized them into a line. One by one, the Beauxbatons students stepped across the age line and dropped their slips of parchment into the blue-white flames. As each name entered the fire, it turned briefly red and emitted sparks.

When all the Beauxbatons students had submitted their names, Madame Maxime led them back out of the Hall and out onto the grounds again.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

The Halloween feast seemed to take forever. Daphne noticed Harry didn't seem to fancy the extravagantly prepared food on the Hufflepuff table, where they were sitting. But, it was that anniversary. Harry simply wanted the plates to clear, and to hear who had been selected as champions. Then he could get out of there.

Finally, the plates were cleared and there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall. It died away again as Dumbledore rose to his feet. On either side of him, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Ludo Bagman was beaming and winking at various students. Mister Crouch, however, looked quite uninterested, almost bored.

"Well, the Goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore, in a clear and carrying voice holding his hands up in a double shooshing gesture. "I estimate it will require another minute.

"Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber..." he indicated the door behind the staff table, "... where they will be receiving their first instructions."

He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now seemed to shine more brightly than anything else in the Great Hall. The sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames was almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting. A few people kept checking their watches.

The flames inside the Goblet turned suddenly red. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it. The whole room gasped.

Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length so he could read it by the light of the returned blue-white flames, which had turned back to their pre-red state.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."

Applause and cheering swept the Hall. Harry saw Viktor Krum rise from the Slytherin table and slouch up toward Dumbledore; he turned right, walked along the staff table, and disappeared through the door into the next chamber.

"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"

The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused again on the Goblet, which had turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"

"Oh look, they're all disappointed," Hermione said over the noise, nodding toward the remainder of the Beauxbatons party. 'Disappointed' was a bit of an understatement, Harry thought. Two of the girls who had not been selected had dissolved into tears and were sobbing with their heads on their arms.

When Miss Delacour had also vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again. The Hogwarts champion was next.

The flames within the Goblet turned red once more. The tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.

"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Cedric Diggory!"

Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly, and headed off toward the chamber behind the Professors' table. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as, at last, the tumult died down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real..."

But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him.

The fire in the Goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.

Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared in shock at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat. He called, "Harry Potter."

Harry sat there for a few moments. He was stunned. 'I don't freaking believe this!' he thought.

Looking to his friends he shook his head and quietly said, "It wasn't me. I didn't do it."

There was no applause. Angry murmurings filled the Hall. Some students were standing up to get a better look at Harry as he sat, frozen, in his seat.

Up at the top table, Professor McGonagall had got to her feet, stalked quickly around the end of the table and hurried over to Dumbledore. She began to whisper urgently to him, while he bent his ear toward her, frowning slightly.

At the top table, Professor Dumbledore had straightened up, nodding to Professor McGonagall.

"Harry Potter!" he called again. "Harry! Up here, if you please!"

"Go on," Hermione whispered, giving Harry a slight push.

Harry rose to his feet, while Daphne tried to hold onto him in fear. He set off up the gap between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.

It felt like an immensely long walk. After what seemed like an hour, he was right in front of Dumbledore, feeling the stares of all the teachers upon him.

"Well - through the door, Harry," said Dumbledore. He wasn't smiling.

"No, Headmaster, I will not," said Harry firmly back.

Turning around he glared back across the students. "You all heard me tell the Headmaster only twenty-four hours ago, that there were ways past his - efforts - to ensure only those of age could be entered in this damned Tournament. You also heard me try to tell him many ways how his ludicrous protections could be bypassed.

"Then he stood up here - right where he is now, in fact - and told everyone that he would have up sufficient protections. He is supposed to be among the most powerful wizards - and witches - in the world. This - should not have been beyond his skills to prevent.

"So, he is either incompetent; or, he is a liar!"

The student population gasped in shock.

"Mister Potter!" barked the headmaster, glaring back, angrily. "I will not be spoken to that way!"

"Then leave!" Harry spun to the man and barked right back, just as angrily.

Turning back to the students he popped his wand out of its holster and held the tip to his chest. In a loud and clear voice, he said, "I, Harry James Potter, do swear I did not enter my name in the Goblet of Fire; did not, in any way, request or coerce another, to enter my name in the Goblet of Fire; do not know who it was who entered my name in the Goblet of Fire; and do not wish to have any part in the Tri-Wizard Tournament other than as a spectator. So say I; so mote it be!"

There was a great pulse of magic centred from Harry's chest, signifying the oath was made. He then gathered his magic to extraordinary levels before bringing to his mind his happiest memory of his time with Daphne. It was the night he got to play with 'the girls'. Then he cast. "Expecto Patronum!"

Prongs leapt from his wand tip. When his hooves struck the stone floor there was clearly heard the sound of hooves upon that stone.

Harry continued to pump magic into the patronus as it took on a decidedly solid shape. It turned about and looked at Harry, almost as if it was waiting for him to say something.

"Thank you, Prongs," said Harry, before allowing the form to dissipate.

Looking out of the now clearly stunned audience, he said, "If anyone makes any inference otherwise, you will face me in a duel. I will not be merciful. I will not tolerate any of the type of nonsense that went on while the basilisk was roaming the school."

Turning back to the visibly shaken headmaster and indicating the room he had been indicated to enter, he said, "That room is where the champions are to go. I am not a champion." He then turned away and looked to the group. "Seven; we're leaving."

He then began to walk back up the Hall towards the doors leading out to the Entrance Hall as the others rose and began to hurry to follow him. All eyes upon him.

When he was about two-thirds of the way to the doors, they suddenly slammed closed.

"Mister Potter!" called Dumbledore. Harry turned to look back. "No matter how your name came to be submitted to the Goblet - nor, how you came to be chosen - you have been chosen. You must compete, or you will lose your magic and, perhaps, your very life!"

"Perhaps, Headmaster," replied Harry firmly. "However, just because I may be required to compete - and I will be discussing this matter with my legal guardians and legal counsel, I assure you - it does not mean I am a champion.

"As such, I am not required to consider myself one. So, open these doors or the student populace shall discover just how strong they're going to have to be to shield against me if they foolishly choose to ignore my warning."

"No, Mister Potter," glared the old man. "You must join the other champions."

"Very well, Headmaster. Though I cannot fathom why you constantly want to be publicly humiliated, it appears you have not yet learned the lesson it does you no good to try to order me about when you do not have the authority to do so," said Harry, before he began to gather his magic in a mighty surge. He turned back to the doors and raised his wand, "Deprimo!" he shouted, bring his wand down.

The spell impacted the middle of the doors at chest height and, with a resounding crash, blew a large hole right through the middle of them that reached all the way to the ground. The splinters of wood sprayed across the width of the Entrance Hall beyond, knocking over a couple of suits of armour in the process, before many bounced off the wall on the other side.

Many nearby students gasped in shock at the display of raw power.

Harry strode forward with the Seven following behind, and walked out through the very large hole and out of the Great Hall.

Behind them, the noise level rose dramatically and quite quickly.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

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