I do not own Harry Potter. Direct quotes from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire will be in bold. Harry Potter belongs to the wonderful J.K Rowling.
Making Hogwarts History
Charlie kept her emerald gaze locked at the front of the Great Hall. She didn't need to look around to know she was receiving hostile stares-she could feel them burning into the back of her neck. She swallowed hard and passed the teachers. Dumbledore wasn't smiling nor were his eyes twinkling. Flitwick looked ready to faint and Hagrid seemed to be as stunned as she was.
And that was saying something.
She entered the chamber adjoined to the Hall and glanced around. The three champions were around the fireplace and they looked up upon hearing someone enter. "What's up?" Angelina asked.
"Iz something wrong?" Fleur wondered, swinging her hair back over her shoulders.
Charlie couldn't find the words to explain what had just happened. Luckily Ludo Bagman chose the right time to come bounding into the chamber. "Who'd have expected this?" he laughed, clapping Charlie on the shoulder. "Children, remember this day! The Triwizard Tournament-for the first time in history-has a fourth champion!"
If the glares she received in the Hall were hostile, then the ones she was getting now were downright deadly. Charlie struggled to smile but it came out as a grimace.
"But she cannot!" Fleur protested. "She does not meet ze age limit!"
"True, true. But Charlotte's name came out of the Goblet. There's no backing out now." Ludo hardly seemed bothered by this new development. In fact, he seemed to be delighted.
"I didn't put my name in the Goblet!" Charlie protested.
The door slammed open and Charlie nervously regarded the group that came in.
"Two Hogwarts champions?" Karkaroff hissed. "Pardon me, but I was under the impression that we could only have one champion that was of age."
"Zis is vairy unfair!" Madame Maxime said furiously. "I demand to know the meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr. Why 'as your Age Line allowed zis little girl to enter the Tournament?"
"Do not blame Dumbledore," Snape spoke up. "It is not his fault some children don't regard the rules."
Charlie bristled. Sure, every time she got in trouble, she suddenly became her father and Snape's mood did a one eighty. "I didn't put my name in the Goblet!" she cried. "I never wanted to put my name in the Goblet! I've had enough near brushes with Death, thank you."
"And you didn't get an older student to put your name in for you?" Dumbledore asked.
"No!"
"Of course she would not be telling ze truth!" Fleur exclaimed.
Exasperated, Charlie shoved her hands in her pockets before the desire to punch something overwhelmed her. Her fingers brushed something and she pulled it out.
It was the note she had passed to Ron so long ago, warning him about Hermione's crusade. She had shoved it back in her pocket when he returned the parchment to her and she had forgotten about it.
It had her handwriting on it.
Charlie unfolded the precious piece of paper and held it out. "Does the handwriting on that parchment match this one?"
A brief look of surprise crossed Dumbledore's face before he took the note and compared the two pieces of parchment. "No...It doesn't."
"See? I didn't put my name in. And why would anyone else want me to? No older student would want to risk me taking the glory from someone of their own House and Ravenclaws value honesty. I don't know how my name got in the Goblet, but I had nothing to do with it."
"Now how can we argue with that?" Ludo asked cheerfully.
"Very easily," Karkaroff muttered. "Mr. Bagman, Mr. Crouch, you must agree that this is very unusual and unfair."
"It may be so, but we cannot do anything about that," Crouch said stiffly. "Charlotte Potter has been chosen and she is now bound by the rules of the Tournament."
"Isn't there some way you can figure out whose handwriting that belongs to?" Charlie asked desperately.
"Sorry, kiddo. Magical signatures we can trace (for the most part) but not handwriting," Ludo explained.
Unbelievable. These people can time travel, teleport, use spells to clean houses, ward off devil-like creatures and heal life-threatening injuries. But they don't have a simple spell to identify handwriting. What. The. Fudge.
"I must insist that the Goblet of Fire is set up once more," Karkaroff growled. "Names shall be submitted until all schools have two champions."
"You know very well that can't happen," Snape said sharply. "The Goblet will not light again until the next Tournament."
Karkaroff turned to stare at Snape. After a moment of silence he spoke. "Then we'll leave."
"Do you want your student to die, Karkaroff?" Moody growled. He limped into the chamber and glowered at the Durmstrang Headmaster. "There's a magical binding to the Tournament once you've been declared champion. But you know that. You're stuck here, Karkaroff."
Karkaroff fumed. "I'll certainly be complaining to the Ministry of Magic."
"You know, Potter here is the only one who has a reason to complain. And she's not saying a word."
"She's got a chance at glory and a thousand Galleons!" Angelina pointed out. "Why should she be complaining? This is something all of those guys in the Hall would die for!"
"And perhaps someone is hoping Potter will die," Moody said softly. "Only an extremely skilled witch or wizard would be able to trick the powerful Goblet."
Charlie pushed back the urge to groan.
"Of course there's a death plot involved," Karkaroff said coldly. "There's a death plot involved in everything, isn't there, Moody?"
"Enough," Dumbledore said sharply. "Alastor, Igor, there is nothing we can do about this situation. Charlotte and Angelina have been selected as Hogwarts Champions. They are obliged to compete. Bartemius, the rules?"
Mr. Crouch stared at Dumbledore for moment before slowly nodding. "Yes, of course. The first task will be on November twenty-fourth. It will be performed in front of students and the judges. This task will test your daring and you will go into the first task unaware of what you are facing. Courage in the face of the unknown is very important.
"Champions are not allowed to ask for or accept help from their teachers. You will go into the first task armed with nothing but your wands. Due to the time the champions will spend towards the Tournament they will not have to take their year-end tests. Have I missed anything?"
"No, no. All was said. Would you like to stay for the night, Bartemius? You don't look well."
"Nonsense. I'm fine. Must get back to the office, lots of work to be done." Mr. Crouch slipped on his coat and nodded at them all. "Goodnight."
Madame Maxime and Karkaroff were quick to leave with their champions. Dumbledore smiled at the two remaining girls. "I do believe Ravenclaw and Gryffindor will be delighted to have an excuse to throw a party. Best not to keep them waiting."
Charlie nodded numbly and followed Angelina out of the chamber. "I'm really sorry this happened," she started to say."
"Then why did you put your name in the Goblet?" Angelina demanded.
"I told you, I didn't! Professor Dumbledore even said my handwriting didn't match the one on the parchment!" Charlie protested.
"There is such a thing as forgery," Angelina said. Then she sighed. "Look, I'm not mad at you or anything. Gryffindors get along with Ravenclaws pretty well-although I'm not sure if I can continue saying that now. You'll have consequences to face and I think that'll be punishment enough."
Angelina went towards Gryffindor Tower and Charlie threw her hands in the air. "Great. No one is going to believe me. Ron already looked like he wanted to rip my head off."
She stormed into Ravenclaw Tower and was startled by a great cheer. Penelope Clearwater walked up to her. "I don't know how you did it, and although it wasn't a very honest thing to do, just know your House will be here to support you."
"Thanks, but I didn't-"
More people came forward to pester her with questions. No matter how much she denied they wouldn't believe her. She finally managed to escape into her dormitory, where Hermione was reading a book. "Hermione, I'm going to die before I even enter the first task."
"Well, you can't do much about it," Hermione said practically. "Someone put your name in the Goblet and you have no choice but to compete. Does Dumbledore know why someone would do such a thing?"
"No, but Professor Moody believes someone wants me to die," Charlie said flatly and collapsed on her bed. "How many lives do I have left? I think I started out with nine."
"You're not a cat," Hermione put her book down. "You're just extremely lucky."
"Well, my luck better not run out. Or else you'll be visiting my funeral at the end of the year."
...
"Charlie?"
The fourteen-year-old girl groaned and sat up wearily, her raven hair a tangled mess. "Yeah?"
"Someone is waiting outside the Common Room for you." The girl who had delivered the message left before Charlie could ask who it was.
She got dressed and grabbed her book bag. When she stepped out of the Common Room she was relieved to see Harry waiting for her and holding an apple. "I was worried it was an angry mob."
"Well, not yet." The two siblings started down the corridor. "Want to go for a walk?"
"Please." Charlie nodded and took a bite of her apple.
They walked past the Great Hall, went outside and circled the lake. "So, how's the Hufflepuff crowd doing?"
"Well, we're not a malicious bunch, but most of us aren't happy." Harry shrugged. "I know you're innocent, but everyone in the Hufflepuff House was hoping Cedric would get chosen. It's been a while since they got any glory. Angelina getting selected was bad enough, but now they're feeling cheated."
"Great," Charlie muttered. "Well, I'm curious to know. What side are the Slytherins on?"
"They hate you and they also hate Gryffindors. But they hate you more." Harry smiled apologetically. "I asked Fred and George how the Gryffindors feel. They're delighted Angelina got chosen but most of them feel that you're a threat to her victory. Fred, George, Neville and Ginny believe you, however."
"I notice Ron wasn't mentioned."
Harry flushed. "Hermione's trying to knock some sense into him. Listen, he's just jealous. He's spent his whole life overshadowed by his siblings and you're his best friend. He feels inferior. He wants to be recognized."
"I'll gladly trade places with him," Charlie said.
"Too bad you can't." Harry grinned.
...
Lessons went as Charlie expected. The majority of the Gryffindors were giving her the cold shoulder and the Hufflepuffs, although they didn't completely ignore her, still showed their disapproval of her supposed actions.
"You know," Charlie remarked as she and Hermione headed for Care of Magical Creatures together. "I think this is the first time in history where Slytherins have pushed aside their hatred of Gryffindors in favour for their shared loathing of an individual figure."
"You're making the Hogwarts history books," Hermione answered dryly. "Has Ron talked to you yet?"
"Nope. He's been avoiding me like the plague."
When they reached Hagrid's hut there was already a crowd of students. Harry was standing at the front with Ron and he shot the girls an apologetic smile.
"All hail the champion!" Pansy cried as she and her best friend, Draco Malfoy came into view. Charlie wrinkled her nose.
"Do you have a pen, Potter?" Draco taunted. "You'll be signing autographs like mad, I assume. You might want to please your fans before you die. I think you'll bite it in the first task. What do you think, Pansy?"
Before Pansy could answer Hagrid came lumbering from behind the hut. He gave them their orders and motioned for Charlie to come forwards. "Do yeh 'ave any clue as teh who put yer name in the Goblet?"
"Not one," Charlie sighed. "But you believe me?"
"O' course! Yeh've never gave me reason teh not trust yeh." Hagrid stroked his beard. "But yeh must be careful. Dangerous stuff happens in the Tournament."
"So I've heard."
"It seems everythin' happens to yeh, don' it?"
Charlie snorted. "You're telling me."
...
"Lovely buttons," Charlie drawled the next day, staring at the flashing accessories the Slytherins and most of Hogwarts (with the exception of Ravenclaws and most of the Hufflepuffs) were wearing. She, Hermione, Harry and Ron had left the Great Hall (Ron was still refusing to talk to her) and they came upon a large snickering crowd.
Hermione flinched when the button she was staring at flashed to Potter Stinks. "Don't worry about it. They're so immature."
"Who you calling immature, Mudblood?" Pansy sneered. She and Draco came to the front of the snickering crowd. Charlie had a feeling they were behind the new fashion trend.
"Who you calling Mudblood, half-blood?" Ron retorted.
Pansy snarled and whipped out her wand. Ron did the same. Before Hermione, Charlie or Harry could stop him he shouted, "Furnunculus!" the same time Pansy screamed, "Densaugeo!"
Charlie dove to the ground as the curses clashed in the air. Everyone screamed and took cover. Ron's curse hit Draco in the face and Pansy's curse rebounded on Hermione. Harry hastily went by her side and tugged her hand away from her mouth to see what damage had been done.
"You'll pay for this, Weasley!" Draco screamed, his face covered in nasty boils.
"Nice going, Ron," Charlie muttered under her breath. Ron glared at her.
"What's going on here?"
Snape stormed out of the Great Hall. His eyes passed over the Potter Stinks buttons and landed on the six figures standing in the middle of the nervous crowd. Draco pointed a finger at Ron. "He hexed me!"
"It was her fault!" Ron snapped, glaring at Pansy. "We shouted curses at the same time! She pulled her wand on me! I was defending myself!"
"Detention," Snape said shortly. "And fifty points from Gryffindor. Tell me Weasley, what caused Miss Parkinson to pull her wand on you in the first place?"
"She called Hermione a Mudblood. I called her a half-blood," Ron said hotly.
Snape's eyes flashed. "Miss Parkinson, you know very well how I feel about that name. Thirty points from Slytherin and detention."
Pansy turned red.
"Mr. Malfoy, get to the hospital wing. Same for you, Miss Granger."
Hermione's teeth had grown past her collar. She took off for the hospital wing and Harry quickly followed her. The crowd dispersed and Pansy stormed off with Draco to get him cured.
Before Charlie could say anything to Ron Colin Creevey sped towards her. He continued to idolize her even though his fellow Gryffindors were less than fond of her. "Charlie! Mr. Bagman would like to see you right away!"
"Alright." Charlie nodded curtly at Ron and set off with Colin. "How'd you know where I was?"
"I took a guess. This is where you normally are at this time." Colin beamed at her. "I think the Daily Prophet is here to take pictures and stuff. Wow! I can't believe you're the fourth champion! Isn't that something?"
"Very," Charlie agreed. Colin led her to a small classroom. "You know, Colin, I think it's only fair that you get to take the very first picture of Hogwarts' fourth champion."
His smile lit up the corridor. He eagerly snapped a picture, thanked her a thousand times and sped off to show his brother. Charlie shook her head in amusement and opened the door.
Five desks were set up behind a long velvet-covered table. A photographer and what Charlie guessed was a reporter was conversing quietly in the corner. Viktor was staring into the fire and Fleur was chatting with Angelina.
Ludo Bagman beamed. "Charlotte Potter! Come on in, it's almost time for the Wand Weighing ceremony."
Charlie blinked. "Wand Weighing ceremony?"
"We just want to make sure your wands are perfect and functioning properly. Then there will be a little photo shoot. And Rita Skeeter here will be asking a few questions for the Daily Prophet."
Charlie managed a smile as Rita Skeeter strode forwards. "Hello."
"Hello, Charlotte. Mr. Bagman, I was wondering if I may ask her a few questions before we begin. It's not often we get a fourth champion." Her long, crimson nails tapped against her crocodile handbag.
"Of course!"
Charlie was yanked into a broom closet. Rita shut the door firmly and spread a long piece of parchment on a cardboard box. "Now, Charlotte, I'll just be using a Quick-Quotes Quill. Try not to pay attention to it."
A long green quill was pulled from her bag. Charlie watched as Rita placed the tip in her mouth before pressing it to the parchment. The quill stood upright on its own after she withdrew her hand. "So, Charlotte, what made you enter this Tournament?"
"Uh-"
The quill started scribbling at rapid fire, despite Charlie having uttered one syllable.
An unsightly scar adorns the otherwise charming face of Charlotte Potter, a reminder to every one of her tragic past, and her emerald eyes, bright with emotion-
Oh, give me a break.
Charlie allowed her eyes to flicker upwards. "I really didn't put my name in the Goblet."
"Now, now, Charlotte, no need to lie. We all know you put your name in when you weren't supposed to. No need to worry, readers love rebels."
Charlie let out a sigh. No point in arguing with this woman.
"Are you nervous for the tasks ahead?" Rita asked.
"Yes." Especially considering I have a tendency to face Death more than most people should.
"Champions have died in this Tournament, you know. But you're quite good at looking death in the face and triumphing, aren't you?"
Well, she's right on that point.
"Did you enter the Tournament to live up to the Potter name? Your parents were exceptional at magic. Are you trying to prove yourself?"
"No," Charlie answered.
"Do you have any memories of your parents?"
Not good ones. "Not really."
"Do you think they would be proud of you?" Rita pressed.
Gee, I dunno. How about I ask them? Charlie resisted the urge to scowl and glanced down at the parchment between them.
When our conversation turns to her parents, those emerald orbs well with tears of grief.
She must be joking.
The closet door flew open and Charlie sprang to her feet, relieved to see the rather intimidating form of Albus Dumbledore staring at them. Rita's quill and parchment vanished into her bag and she got to her feet.
"Dumbledore!" she said breezily. "How very nice to see you."
"A pleasure, my dear. Your article on the International Confederation of Wizards' Conference was wonderfully nasty, by the way." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and he ushered Charlie out of the closet. "It is time for the Weighing of the Wands, and it won't do for one of the champions to be hiding in a broom closet."
Charlie took a seat with the rest of the champions and fiddled with her wand nervously. Her gaze flickered towards the window and she gaped in surprise.
Mr. Ollivander peered at them. "Mademoiselle Delacour." He motioned the girl forwards.
Fleur sat up gracefully and handed the elderly man her wand. He gave it a twirl and pink sparks shot out from the tip. "Yes...nine and half inches, inflexible, rosewood and containing a hair from a Veela."
Fleur tilted her head proudly. "From one of my ancestors."
"To each his own, I suppose," Mr. Ollivander mused. He gave the wand a flick and flower petals exploded into the air. "Very good. Miss Johnson, your turn."
Angelina stepped forwards and held out her wand.
"Ah, yes. I remember the day you came for your wand. Cedar, twelve inches, and the core is a hair from a male unicorn's tail. I see you've taken good care of your wand."
Angelina grinned and nodded. Mr. Ollivander cast a series of smoke rings before handing back her wand with an approving nod. "Mr. Krum."
Viktor got up and slouched towards Ollivander. He studied it carefully. "A Gregorovitch creation. Thicker than wands normally are. Dragon heartstring, hornbeam, ten and a quarter inches." He waved the wand and a swarm of birds appeared in the room, chirping gently. "Very good. Now that leaves...Miss Potter."
Charlie clutched her wand and moved forwards. Please don't tell them my wand core is the brother to Voldemort's...please don't.
Ollivander examined her wand for a long time. He made a jet of wine shoot from the tip before handing it back to her without a word.
Dumbledore smiled at them all. "Well, you've missed the better part of afternoon classes. Why don't you all prepare for dinner?"
"We still have to do the photo shoot!" Rita interrupted. "And perhaps a few individual shots."
The pictures took forever to do. Charlie was delighted when they were finally dismissed. She took off down the corridor and skipped dinner entirely. She found Hermione in the Common Room, reading as usual. "How are you feeling?"
Hermione beamed. "Great!"
Charlie blinked. "Uh, smile again for me."
Sheepishly, Hermione obeyed. "You got your teeth shortened!"
"Well, Madame Pomfrey told me to tell her when my teeth were back to normal," Hermione explained. "And my parents are against using magic on teeth (they are dentists) but Muggle dentistry can't fix the size of my front teeth. So...I let Madame Pomfrey shrink them until they were level with my other teeth. My parents won't be happy, mind you."
Charlie shook her head. "Well, at least your day went alright for the most part. I still got a year of deadly tasks to handle."
"Don't worry Charlie. You'll be fine," Hermione assured her.
Charlie wished she could believe that.