The next evening at six the Halloween feast began, and although the food prepared was extravagant and well-made as usual for a feast, the students in general did not eat near as much as they had the previous day. Maybe because it was their second feast in two days, but Harry surmised from the many impatient expressions, constant fidgeting, muttering, and the standing up to see if Dumbledore had finished eating yet that many people, like Harry, simply wanted the plates to clear and hear who had been selected as champions.

Finally, the golden plates were cleared, and there was an immediate upswing in conversation as many people began to anticipate the announcing of the champions. The noise died away almost immediately as Dumbledore got to his feet. On either side of him, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked just as tense and expectant as everyone.

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," Dumbledore began, looking around at the assembled students. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. When the champions' names are called, I ask that they please come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through to the chamber" – he indicated the door behind the staff table – "where they will receive their first instructions as champions of their respective school."

He then took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave; 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 shone brightly in the Hall, the flames dancing in the air as they sparkled, almost painful for people to watch. But no one said anything…everyone watched, waiting…A few people checked their watches…

"Any second," Lee Jordan whispered, across from Harry.

Then suddenly the flames inside the goblet turned red. Sparks began to fly from it, and flames shot throughout the air. The next moment, a charred piece of parchment flew out of it.

Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it so that he could read it by the light of the flames.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong voice that carried throughout the room. "will be Viktor Krum.

"No surprises there!" yelled Ron as applause and cheering rang through the Hall. Harry saw Viktor Krum rise from the Slytherin table amidst much applause from both Durmstrang and Slytherin students, and slouch towards Dumbledore; the next moment, he turned to walk through the door to the next chamber.

"Bravo, Viktor!" called Karkaroff over the applause. "Knew you had it in you all along!"

Soon, the clapping and cheering died down, and everyone's attention was focused once again on the goblet, which, seconds later, 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!"

"Hey, Ron, it's that girl from yesterday!" Harry shouted as Fleur got up gracefully to her feet and headed down between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables amidst much staring in awe and applause.

"Oh look, some of them are disappointed," remarked Hermione, pointing towards the Ravenclaw table where the rest of the Beauxbatons students sat. Harry thought that disappointed was a bit of an understatement. While several were applauding Fleur, two of the girls that had not been selected had broken down into tears and were sobbing into their arms.

When Fleur Delacour also vanished into the chamber, the noise died down immediately, but it seemed that this silence was ten times larger than the ones before. Everyone in the room was so anxious to know who the Hogwarts champion was…

A few moments later the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; the flames burst into the air and sparks flew from the Goblet as a third piece of parchment flew out and landed in Dumbledore's hands.

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

The sudden upsurge in noise from the Hufflepuff table was massive. Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to their feet, screaming and cheering on Cedric, who made his way past them, grinning broadly and shaking many hands before quickly heading off to the chamber beyond the teachers' table. This applause for Cedric went on for quite some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called as at last the noise began to die down. "We now have our three champions. But in the end, only one will go down in history, and hoist the chalice of champions, the vessel of victory; the Triwizard Cup!"

And at those words Dumbledore turned to point at a table in front of the High Table, where Mr. Crouch pulled a towel off the Triwizard Cup, revealing itself to the hall. Applause and cheers rang throughout the hall as the Cup gleamed on the table, inviting the next winner to touch it.

But as the applause and cheers continued, Harry noticed that Professor Snape was looking at the Goblet of Fire with a face of apprehension. He too then noticed that Dumbledore had turned to see that the flames within the cup were dancing once more, and the noise in the Great Hall died down immediately as everyone stared, awe-struck and speechless as flames and sparks once again began to emerge from the cup.

And just when it seemed like the flames would never end, a last piece of parchment was shot out by the Goblet of Fire. Dumbledore seized the parchment, held it out, and stared at the name written on it. There was a long pause as everyone stared at Dumbledore, who himself was staring at the slip in his hands. And then he cleared his throat, and read out –

"Harry Potter."

Fleur entered the chamber, her nerves a wild mix of feelings that she could not identify right now. She felt excited that she had been selected to enter in the tournament, but as she walked down the stairs into the chamber, she started feeling rather nervous. Dumbledore had said that the tournament was not for the faint of heart. She wondered what kind of tasks were in place that made it so he said such a warning?

As she walked down she noticed that Krum was already standing in front of the fireplace, looking as if he was deep in thought. As she approached the fireplace however Krum turned to see that she was walking towards him.

"Hello," Fleur said, smiling at Krum as she held out her hand. "Fleur Delacour,"

"Viktor Krum," Krum said as he shook her hand. Fleur noticed he had a thick accent. "From Beauxbatons, I assume?"

"Correct," Fleur replied. "I expect we'll be seeing the Hogwarts champion soon."

And soon enough, as soon as Fleur said those words, she heard footsteps and turned to see Cedric Diggory walking towards them, a small grin on his face. He extended his arm out to both as he got there.

"Cedric Diggory," he said, shaking Fleur's hand first and then Krum's. "Nice to meet both of you,"

"Likewise," Fleur said, smiling at him as well. Krum nodded to make his acquaintance. Soon, the three of them turned to looked at the fireplace, each lost in their own thoughts…

Until they heard another set of footsteps. They all turned to see Harry Potter walking down the steps, looking just as confused as the rest of them felt. "Do they need us for something Harry?" Cedric asked. Harry shook his head and just stood there, staring at them. Just a few moments later, they heard more voices and footsteps behind Harry. To Fleur it sounded like an argument was taking place.

Dumbledore was the first person she saw, and following him were Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Moody, along with Madame Maxime, Karkaroff, Ludo Bagman, and Barty Crouch. Madame Maxime and Karkaroff seemed to be incensed about something as they continued to argue with the Hogwarts professors. Ludo Bagman however put an arm on Harry's shoulders and moved him next to Krum, a jolly smile on his face. "Incredible! I've never even heard of it happening! Might I introduce to you all…the fourth Triwizard champion?"

The three stared at Bagman blankly for second. Then... "You can't be serious?" Cedric said incredulously.

"It must be a joke," Fleur agreed, glancing over at her headmistress who was still arguing with Dumbledore and some of the other Hogwarts professors before they walked over to them.

"Joke?" Bagman repeated, bewildered. "No, not at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"

Krum's eyebrows thickened as he looked at Harry peculiarly. Cedric was still looking rather bewildered, and Fleur frowned as she continued to look over at the arguing professors. "Surely there must be a mistake…he cannot compete, he is not of age."

"It is indeed, quite amazing," said Bagman, rubbing his chin as he looked at Harry and then the three other champions. "But the age line was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure, and as Harry's name has come out the goblet, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage…Harry will just have to do the best he can, eh, Harry?"

But as Fleur looked at Harry he did not look like someone who was ready to enter a potentially life-threatening tournament. Rather he still looked confused and bewildered as to what was going on, glancing at his name on his piece of parchment every now and then as if he still could not believe that he had been selected.

The headmasters and professors soon made their way towards the champions, still arguing with each other, and it was quite evident what they were arguing about.

"…the meaning of this, Dumbly-dorr?" Fleur heard Madame Maxime question imperiously.

"Two Hogwarts champions, Dumbledore?" Karkaroff repeated, his smile rather forced and steely. "I don't remember seeing that the host school can have two champions – or have I not read the rules carefully enough?"

"C'est impossible," said Madame Maxime, whose enormous hand was now resting on Fleur's shoulder. "'Ogwarts cannot 'ave two champions. It is must unjust."

"I most certainly agree, Madame Maxime," said Karkaroff, continuing to glare at Harry. "If we were to know that this Age Line would not keep out younger contestants, we would have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."

"It's no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff," Fleur turned to see a man with long greasy hair standing next to Dumbledore speak. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules, for Potter has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here – "

"Thank you, Professor Snape," said Dumbledore firmly, and Snape became quiet, though his were still glinting malevolently in Harry's direction. Dumbledore now looked at Harry's direction, who was still looking confused and uncertain. "Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" he asked calmly.

"No," said Harry.

"Did you ask an older student to put it in for you?"

"No," said Harry, slightly louder this time.

"Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" cried Madame Maxime from behind Fleur's shoulder.

"I didn't put my name in the goblet!" said Harry angrily, and Fleur noticed that he now seemed rather irritated and annoyed that no one was believing him.

"Surely we can all agree that he could not have crossed the Age Line," said Professor McGonagall sharply, moving to stand behind Harry.

"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line," said Madame Maxime, shrugging.

"Well it is possible, of course," said Dumbledore politely.

"Professor Dumbledore you know full well that you did not make a mistake with the Age Line!" said Professor McGonagall angrily, shooting a furious look at Professor Snape. "Harry could not have crossed the line himself, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that he did not persuade an older student to do it for him, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody here!"

"Mr. Crouch…Mr. Bagman," said Karkaroff, now turning to the two men who were standing by Krum at the far side of the room. "You are the – er – objective judges. Surely you agree that this is most irregular?"

Bagman wiped his round face with his handkerchief and turned to look at Mr. Crouch, who was standing as if he was still deep in thought. His face was slightly hidden by the shadows of the trophies behind him, giving him a much older, eerie look. When he spoke however, it was his normal curt voice.

"The rules are absolute…the Goblet of Fire constitutes a binding magical contract. Those whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."

"Well, Barty knows the rules better than anyone," said Bagman brightly, looking as if the matter was now closed.

"I must insist upon resubmitting names of the rest of my students," said Karkaroff. His smile was gone now, to be replaced by a very ugly and hostile look on his face. "We will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and continue adding names until each school has two champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore."

"But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that," said Bagman. "The Goblet's just gone out – it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament – "

"– In which case, Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" roared Karkaroff, now looking livid. "After everything we've done to prepare for this, I little expected something like this to happen! I have half a mind to take Viktor and the rest of my students and leave right now!"

"Empty threat, Karkaroff," Fleur turned to see the weird man from the Great Hall yesterday begin talking. "You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"

"Convenient," said Karkaroff. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody,"

Fleur noticed that while he attempted to sound above Moody and disdainful, his hands bad balled into fists.

"Don't you?" said Moody quietly. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's name in that goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out."

"Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give 'Ogwarts two bites at ze apple!" cried Madame Maxime.

"I agree, Madame Maxime," said Karkaroff, bowing to her. "I shall most certainly be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards – "

"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter," growled Moody. "but I don't hear him saying a word…"

"Why should 'e complain?" Fleur turned to see Madame Maxime cry out again. "Ze honor our students could vin for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money – zis is a chance many would die for!"

"Maybe someone's hoping Potter is going to die for it," said Moody quietly.

A tense silence followed these words, and Fleur turned to see Harry was now looking at Moody with an unreadable expression on his face.

Ludo Bagman, an anxious look on his face, was now bouncing nervously up and down on his feet. "Moody, old man…what a thing to say!"

"We all know Professor Moody considers the morning wasted if he hasn't discovered six plots to murder him before lunchtime," said Karkaroff loudly, glaring at Moody with loathing. "Apparently he is now teaching his students to fear assassination too."

"Imagining things, am I?" growled Moody. "Seeing things, eh? It was a skilled witched or wizard who put Harry's name in that goblet…"

"Where is ze evidence of zat?" said Madame Maxime.

"Because they hoodwinked a very powerful magical object!" said Moody. "An exceptionally strong Confundus Charm would be needed to bamboozle that goblet into forgetting only three schools compete in the tournament…I'm guessing Potter's name was submitted under a fourth school, to make sure he was selected…"

"You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Mad-Eye," said Karkaroff, now getting in Moody's face and giving him a very ugly look.

"It was once my job to think as Dark wizards do, Karkaroff, perhaps you remember," replied Moody, glaring back at him.

"Alastor!" said Dumbledore warningly. Moody fell silent, but surveyed Karkaroff's face with satisfaction, whose face was now burning. "How we came to be in this situation, we do not know," said Dumbledore, now speaking to everyone in the room. "It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Cedric and Harry have been selected to compete in this tournament. This, therefore, they will do…"

"Ah, but Dumbly-dorr – "

"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative I would be delighted to hear it."

Dumbledore waited, but Madame Maxime merely glared at everyone in the room. Karkaroff too looked livid, but said nothing. Bagman on the contrary looked rather excited.

"Well, shall we continue then?" he said, rubbing his hands in anticipation and looking around the room. "Barty, would you like to do the honors of giving our champions instructions?"

Mr. Crouch started.

"Yes," he said, "instructions. Yes…the first task…"

He moved into the light fully and Fleur noticed he had a rather sickly look about him. "The first task is designed to test your daring," he told Harry, Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor, "so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard…very important…"

"The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges."

"I must remind you all, the champions may not receive any aid from any teachers to compete in the tasks of the tournament. You will face the first challenge armed only with your wands, and receive information about the second task when the first is over. Due to the demanding nature of the tournament, champions are exempted from end of year tests."

"Again, I must warn you all of the dangerous nature of this tournament. Understand that there is no backing out of the tournament now. You have been selected as champions for a reason; you must be prepared for anything to happen in these three tasks."

As Harry watched Fleur and Krum leave through the doors to the Great Hall with their headmistress and headmaster, respectively, he still felt confusion within him. He didn't have a choice now; he had to take part in the tournament, or else face losing his magic.

"Harry, Cedric, I suggest you go up to bed," said Dumbledore, smiling at both of them. "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 have a good time.

Harry glanced at Cedric, who nodded, and they left through to the Great Hall together.

The Great Hall was now deserted, and the candles had burned low, giving the jagged smiles of the pumpkins a sinister look.

"So!" said Cedric, chuckling slightly. "We're playing against each other again!"

"I s'pose," said Harry, unable to think of anything to say. His mind was in total disarray; he did not know what to say or do.

"So…tell me…" said Cedric as they reached the dim entrance hall. "How did you get your name in the goblet?"

Harry stopped and look at Cedric, who was slightly taller than him.

"Look, I don't know why no one will believe me," said Harry, staring at him. "But I really didn't put my name in the Goblet of Fire. It wasn't me, and I don't know how it happened. I don't even really want to do this, and I hope you understand."

Harry stood still as Cedric looked at him for a few moments, his face not showing what he was thinking. Then…

"Well, I suppose if you say you really didn't put it in then you really didn't…" Cedric mused, his hand rubbing his chin. "But who would put it in for you?"

"Dunno," said Harry, looking around the entrance hall. Him and Cedric were the only people left. "I really hope it wasn't to kill me though because that would really just dampen the mood."

Cedric chuckled. "Ah, well I better get back to my common room. See you later,"

"Yeah, see you." Harry watched as Cedric waved at him and turned to a door on the right of the marble staircase. Harry stood there for a moment, listening to him walk down the steps, before he slowly started to climb the marble staircase. He was glad that someone had finally believed him when he said that he didn't enter his name in the goblet, but was anyone else besides Ron and Hermione going to believe him or would he go through the rest of the school year with everyone thinking he'd entered his own name? How would anyone believe that, when he faced competitors that had two to three years more magical education than he had – when he was now facing tasks that sounded not only dangerous, but even potentially fatal? Of course, he had thought about it, even fantasized about it with Ron, but it had all just been a joke…all in good fun…he never seriously considered entering.

But someone had considered it…someone had entered his name, and someone had wanted him in the tournament. Why? Was Harry never going to have a year at Hogwarts where he could live normally, without having to worry about being in potentially life-threatening situations?

This made Harry reflect on what Moody had said about someone possibly wanting to get him killed. Was he just being his own paranoid self? Maybe someone just wanted to do it as a practical joke. But to get Harry killed? Who would want that to happen?

Yes, Harry knew immediately that the answer to that question was Lord Voldemort. But Voldemort was supposed to be far away, in hiding, too weak to do anything to return to power…

But, as he headed down the corridor to the Fat Lady's portrait, he remembered that over the summer he had had that dream of Voldemort talking to Wormtail…plotting Harry's murder…and that had resulted in Harry's scar hurting that morning. Could this be the beginning of that plot?

Harry was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice that he had already reached the Fat Lady's portrait. She was not alone though; another witch who had been in a portrait in the chamber where the champions and professors had been was with her. She must have reached the Fat Lady well before Harry did, for they were both looking at Harry with much more interest than usual.

"Well, well," said the Fat Lady. "Violet's just told me everything. Who's just been chosen as school champion then?"

"Balderdash," said Harry, not wanting to talk right now.

"Most certainly not!" Violet said indignantly.

"No, no, Vi, it's the password," the Fat Lady said soothingly as she swung open on her hinges.

Almost immediately a blast of noise came his way and he was being pulled inside the common room by about a dozen pair of hands. Before he knew it, he was facing the whole of Gryffindor House, all of whom were screaming, applauding, and whistling at him.

"Should've told us you'd entered, you sly man!" bellowed Fred, looking half annoyed, half deeply impressed.

"How did you do it without getting a beard!" roared George, applauding strongly.

"Look, I didn't put my name in, I don't know how – "

But now Angelina was upon him, hugging him, saying, "Oh if it couldn't be me, as least we have a Gryffindor in – "

"You can pay Diggory back for the last Quidditch match, Harry!" shouted Alicia Spinnet, another Gryffindor Chaser.

"Come have some food and talk with us Harry – "

"Look, I'm not hungry, I had enough already – "

But no one seemed to care that Harry wasn't hungry, or that he wasn't in the mood for partying; not one person seemed to notice that all he wanted to do was go to his dormitory and stay there…Lee Jordan had found a Gryffindor banner and wrapped it around Harry. Wherever he went, whenever he tried to get to the dormitories, the crowd surged around him and forced more butterbeers and foods into his hands, wanting to talk to him and touch him…Everyone wanted to know how he'd gotten his name into the goblet, how he'd deceived Dumbledore's Age Line…

"Look, I'm tired!" he bellowed at everyone within his vicinity, after almost half an hour of partying had passed. "Seriously, no George – I'm going to bed – "

And with that he pushed his way through the crowd that was surrounding him, nearly flattening the Creevey brothers in his way as they tried to ambush him at the stairs to the dormitory…he just wanted to find Ron and Hermione, find someone who would listen to him…Harry managed to shake off the crowd and climb up to the dormitory, trying to untie the Gryffindor banner draped around him at the same time.

To his great relief, he found Ron sitting on his bed in the empty dormitory, still fully dressed. He turned when Harry entered and slammed the door behind him.

"Where've you been?" Harry said. "I've been looking all over for you,"

"Oh, hello," said Ron.

Harry noticed that he was grinning, but it was an odd, strained sort of grin, not the ones that he and Harry normally had when they were having a laugh. This disturbed Harry as he tried to untie the knot to take the banner off. Ron watched him struggle to remove it without offering help.

"So," he said, when Harry had finally gotten the banner off and thrown it into a corner. "Congratulations,"

"What d'you mean, congratulations?" said Harry, now focusing on Ron. There was something different about Ron; his smile had turned into more of a grimace as he watched Harry.

"Well…you're the only one that got across the Age Line," said Ron. "Not even Fred and George did it…what'd you use – the Invisibility Cloak?"

"The cloak wouldn't've gotten me across the line," said Harry slowly, not taking his eyes off Ron.

"Oh, okay," said Ron, not looking the least bit as if he believed Harry. "I just thought that you know, you might've told me if that's how you did it, we both could've done it, you know? But you found another way, didn't you?"

"Listen, Ron," said Harry, sitting down on his bed. "I didn't put my name in that Goblet. Someone else must've done it."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "What would they do that for?"

"Dunno," said Harry in response. He did not feel like discussing Moody's theory that someone was trying to kill him right now.

Ron continued to stare at him, still not looking as if he believed Harry. "It's okay, you know, you can tell me the truth," he said. "If you don't want everyone else to know, fine, but you don't have to lie to me, you didn't get in trouble for it, did you? That Fat Lady's friend, Violet, she already said Dumbledore would let you enter. A thousand Galleons in prize money? And you don't have to do end-of-year tests either…"

"I didn't put my name in the goblet!" said Harry, starting to feel angry.

"Yeah, okay," said Ron skeptically, still not looking as if he believed Harry at all. "Only you said this morning that you would've done it last night, and no one would've seen you…I'm not stupid you know.

"Well you're doing a hell of an impression looking like it," Harry snapped back.

"Really?" said Ron. The forced grin that was on his face was gone, and it had been replaced by an ugly look that Harry never believed would be aimed towards him. "You want to get to bed Harry, I expect you'll have some interview or photo-call tomorrow."

And with that he wrenched the hangings shut around his bed, leaving Harry sitting there, staring at the dark red curtains that now hid one of the few people that Harry was sure would believe him.

Author's Notes: Little bit more canon this chapter, but it'll gradually start to diverge more.