Chapter Twenty One

"Do you think they teach the art of scowling at Beauxbatons, because they're all scarily good at it," I quipped, gliding invisibly behind the trio as they made their way into the Great Hall. Since Hermione was very anti-flying, we'd had to take the long route down from the hideout. We weren't particularly late but with all the excitement in the air, the room was already swarmed with students.

"Honestly. The way they look at everything, you'd think we were living in squalor. I don't care what they're used to, it's just bad manners." Hermione tossed her hair angrily over her shoulder as she marched past a gaggle of female Beauxbatons students. Harry and Ron were not in as big of a rush. Ron pinned the tallest with a goofy grin but the girl was far too busy examining the cleanliness of her cutlery to pay him any mind.

I scoffed and nudged his shoulder in an attempt to move him along. "Come on, Romeo."

The redhead shot an irritated glare in my general direction before grunting and following after Hermione.

I glanced up at the teachers' table, on the lookout for a certain grizzly wizard with a magic eye. With the mystery of whether or not he could see through my invisibility still hanging unsolved, I didn't want to risk being spotted with three Gryffindor students.

"Hey, Harry. Here's a challenge for you," Ron announced as he slid down onto the bench across from Hermione. "Let's play Goblet. Pick a student from each school and if either of us guesses right, the other has to test Fred and George's newest invention."

Harry's eyes narrowed daringly as he sat beside him. "You're on."

"You in, Danny?" Ron asked, quiet enough so that no one else on the table could hear.

I hummed, glancing across at the Weasley twins as they threw a ball of rolled up parchment at another student's head.

"Yeah, I'm gonna pass. You both have an obvious advantage and I don't really want to visit the Ministry with my tongue the size of a lilo." Also, the Triwizard Tournament was stupid and I didn't hate anyone enough to nominate them.

"Coward," Ron barked through a faked cough.

"I'd rather be a coward than a human-inflatable."

"Danny makes a good point," Hermione cut in, glancing around the room to check no one was eavesdropping. "Fred and George's experiments are dangerous. Besides. The chances of you guessing right are ridiculously low."

Ron smirked, pinning her with his cockiest glare. "Oh really? First guess. Viktor Krum for Durmstrang."

Somehow, that didn't surprise me. Ron had spent the last hour and a half gushing about how awesome the professional Quidditch player was. I was more interested in hearing about a sport where people flew on broomsticks than how talented the guy who played it was.

Harry's eyes widened slightly as he glanced across at the student in question. It was clear on his face that Krum had been his guess also but not wanting to sound like he was copying, he scanned the rest of the Durmstrang students.

"Okay. I pick that one. With the really big hands and the scary eyes."

Ron, Hermione and I twisted to get a look at the student he'd selected. His finger wasn't a very good indicator but it was soon obvious which one he was talking about. On the Slytherin table beside Malfoy sat a boy with the darkest looking glare I'd ever seen. His abnormally large hands formed impatient fists by his empty plate and his eyes were firmly fastened to the Goblet that rested in the centre of the staff table.

I let out a quiet laugh, stretching so that I laid perpendicular above the Gryffindors.

"Is it just me or does he look like he's trying to intimidate the Goblet into picking him?" I asked, resting my head in my hands.

"Either that or he's really hungry and he blames the Goblet for having to wait," Ron quipped. "For Beauxbatons, I'm going to say… Him. The one that opened the carriage door. He seems important."

"Okay, I choose… the girl sat next to Cho." Harry's voice softened at the end of his guess, eyes locking onto someone on the Ravenclaw table.

"Wonder why that is."

Harry drove an embarrassed shoulder into Ron's arm, making the taller teen laugh.

"If you two are making bets on who's going to get picked, we wholeheartedly suggest Angela."

I glanced down to spot one of the twins leaning across the table. The smile slicing his face suggested that he approved of their gambling, even if he didn't exactly know how high the stakes were.

"I choose Angela!" Ron blurted before Harry could say a word. His triumphant grin lasted only a few seconds before he turned to frown at his brother. "Wait, why Angela?"

"Uh, because she's on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, she's incredible and she's old enough." The other twin's head appeared from seemingly nowhere. The way he'd said it, it sounded like it should have been the most obvious thing in the world. Ron's frown lingered a little before he gave a quick nod.

"Yeah. Okay. Angela. Your turn, Harry."

A smile that spoke pure mischief spread across the young wizard's face as he did his final scan of the room. "Cedric Diggory," he proudly announced

I winced, instinctively glancing across at Amos, who'd already found a spot on the teacher's table and was beaming like a child in a sweet shop. Nothing against Cedric, but the name 'Diggory' was starting to feel more and more like a curse word.

Apparently I wasn't the only one unsettled by the guess.

"You can't be serious? That idiot? He's the worst," Ron groaned, glaring across the room like someone had just thrown a Skrewt at him.

"You're only saying that because his team beat Gryffindor in Quidditch last year," Hermione bit.

"No. I'm saying it because he's an idiot and he's the worst."

Before I could make some snide comment about it running in the family, a familiar clatter of uneven footsteps rang in my ears. As I focused my hearing, I registered that the angry grunts and heavy breathing were getting distinctly closer. I quickly lowered myself to rest between Harry and Ron.

"Moody's here. I'll see guys later. Good luck with your guessing game."

I didn't give them a chance to respond. I shot up past floating pumpkins and candles, hovering just under the rafters as I peered down at the entrance.

The odd thing about Moody was that he could be as loud and clattery as he wanted but he always somehow managed to fly under the radar. The second he stormed in, I felt like the room darkened. The scowl that was ever present on his face was enough to unnerve even the bravest of souls and yet I seemed to be the only one to register his arrival.

Keeping a wary eye on him, I pulled myself up onto one of the beams.

Any hope of going unnoticed faded quicker than Ron's Angela outburst when the ragged wizard's blue eye swivelled up to pin me in place. I felt a flicker of annoyance as his scowl deepened.

No one said I couldn't be here. What right did he have to get angry about it?

I sighed, watching as he staggered, unnoticed, to his designated seat. Despite Hermione, Ron and Harry's insistence otherwise, I swore there was something off about him. It was one thing to be suspicious, but the way he constantly seemed to be evaluating the space and the people around him set me on edge. It always looked to me like he was thinking about the best way to kill whomever he set his eyes on and, eerier still, how much he'd enjoy it.

I turned and pressed my back up against the vertical wooden pillar. Pulling my legs up so that my feet rested on the beam I was sitting on, I let my gaze drift to the enchantment surrounding me.

The first time I'd come up here, it had stolen my breath. Looking up from the tables was magical enough, but sitting submerged in the illusion itself was something else entirely. Everything from the beam upwards appeared engulfed in night. Stars winked their support and the pale moon shone down like a loving grandparent. While the illusion could never compare to the real thing, the swirls of deep purples and blues that drifted through the black calmed me in ways I didn't fully understand.

"A good evening to all!" Dumbledore's voice boomed from below. I looked down to find him standing at his table, arms raised in greeting to everyone in the room. "I can see that we are all eager to discover the identities of our champions. But first, a feast!"

The Headmaster clapped his hands and I couldn't help the smile that bled onto my face as masses of food appeared across all five tables. Tucker would lose his mind if he could see this. What I wouldn't give to be down there with him and Sam, enjoying food I hadn't had to smuggle or watch Hagrid struggle to cook.

"Eat. Enjoy the festivities. For when the Triwizard Tournament begins, three of you shall be facing challenges far more dangerous than any you have encountered before. Until then…" His hand did an odd little flourish before he sat down and reached across for the potatoes.

The smile swiftly died. The way he talked about it, so full of excitement and mischievous glee. Did his enthusiasm mean he'd solved the Goblet problem?

I hoped so.

I rested my head tiredly against the pillar. If Hagrid was to be believed, Dumbledore was one of the greatest wizards to ever exist. Surely fixing a problem with a cup that spewed names shouldn't be that much of a challenge.

I'd been in the Great Hall for a fair few meals but none held the same amount of tension, excitement and anxiety as this one. The buzz of conversation below was entirely focused on the Goblet and the Tournament. Bets like the one Ron had initiated rippled like waves, ranging from speculative conversation to the gambling of galleons. I couldn't help but note that a few faces looked a little less happy and a little more peaky as the students they belonged to picked anxiously at their food. I was going to go ahead and guess that they were people who'd submitted their names and were now evaluating their life choices.

I don't know if it was because of how anxious I was to get this night over with, or the fact that Moody's eye kept whizzing up to glare at me, but the feast seemed to stretch on forever. I don't think I was the only person to feel that way as the impatient glances thrown at Dumbledore seemed to come from every angle. Despite the majority of the room having finished their meals, the Headmaster continued to take his time, small smile on his face as he savoured every bite. I couldn't tell whether I was amused or irritated by the obviousness of his delay. He knew what he was doing and he was loving every second of it.

Finally, his plate cleared.

The second he was finished, all leftover food vanished from sight. The loud excitable buzzing got even louder and even more excitable.

My eyes locked onto the three Ministry officials. I thought Stubble had been eager last night but at that moment he looked ready to seize the Goblet and shake the names out of it. Mr Bagman was not particularly tall, but what he lacked in height he more than made up for in the roundness of his middle. Sat between Amos and the third official, he wore a smile so wide, it was surprising his face was still intact. His short blond hair and the knowledge that he used to be an athlete had me comparing him to Dash. Maybe it wasn't fair to dislike him solely for that reason, but the fact that he'd been a driving force in getting the Tournament set up killed any and all guilt.

It was the last guy, Mr Crouch, that held my attention. Tall and very rigid, his eyes sailed over the room as though he were evaluating the worth of each and every person present. To say he looked displeased with what he found would have been a huge understatement. He looked about as excited as I felt which, if you hadn't figured by now, was not at all. The pristine glossiness of his greyed hair spoke structure and a need to maintain order.

In a room full of over enthusiastic teenagers, he stood out like a sore thumb.

"Well, the Goblet is almost ready to make its decision. I estimate that it requires one more minute," Dumbledore's voice echoed around the room, silencing the buzz and capturing the attention of everyone present. As he stood, his eyes swept the room, lingering a second longer on the Gryffindor table. "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 where they will be receiving their first instructions."

He waved a hand at a door that rested at the back of the teachers' table. A sense of hushed apprehension washed over the room as the candles were magically blown out and the blue-white flame from the Goblet swirled and hissed a foot from the Headmaster's blue-lit beard.

The silence seemed to stretch a lifetime as all eyes eagerly pinned to the cup. The only thought that flooded my mind was please don't be someone named Potter. I held my knees closer to my chest as red flames began to spark. Dumbledore's hand lashed out to catch a charred scrap of parchment and the quiet became suffocating.

"The champion from Durmstrang will be Viktor Krum," came Dumbledore's first announcement.

If I weren't so tense, I might have laughed at Ron's victorious shout. A glance down found Harry giving his friend a playful, if not slightly anxious glare. Memories of my bet with Dash last Halloween flooded my mind. Despite trying, I couldn't feel bad for the young wizard. I'd take one of the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes over eating Dash's underwear any day. I gagged involuntarily at the thought.

Krum disappeared into the back room, head held high and looking every bit the dangerous Quidditch player I'd heard he was.

Almost as soon as he'd gone, the flame turned red once more and another name fluttered from the sparks.

Fleur Delacour. Still not a Potter. I sank slightly on the beam, not knowing whether to be relieved that there was only one name left, or even more unnerved.

The girl that stood was breathtakingly beautiful. I found myself drawn to her silver-blonde hair as she walked, mesmerised by the way it swished behind her when she moved. Tall and slight, she held the attention of everyone in the room as she all but floated by. The smile on her face was gracious and proud and the applause she was getting had her glowing.

The second she passed through the doors, the spell was broken. I shook my head and refocused on the Goblet, core swelling with nerves. Why was I so concerned about this? Even if someone called Potter was drawn from the flame, Dumbledore was right when he'd said that in a few days time it wouldn't be my problem.

Not even a whisper sounded below as all attention was on the Goblet. Kids actually stood up to get a better look, eyes bulging as they waited to hear who their final competitor would be.

Dumbledore's eyes did another flick to the Gryffindor table and I couldn't help but wonder if his mind was in the same place as mine.

The fire shot out another name.

I took a calming breath as I stared at the paper, almost as though I'd be able to see the name on the other side of it. As soon as Dumbledore registered what he'd read, a flicker of what I guessed was relief danced across his face.

"The Hogwarts champion will be Cedric Diggory."

Amos let out a whoop so loud, it put the shouts of celebration from the Hufflepuff table to shame. The students from Hogwarts were cheering at volumes I hadn't thought possible. I eased my legs away from my body and exhaled.

A small smile played on my face as I realised either Dumbledore had been able to fix any potential issue or I'd been wrong all along and what I'd heard hadn't related to the Goblet of Fire at all. Which meant that Mission: Escape the Ministry could go unhindered.

I almost didn't register Diggory Junior as he stood and followed after the other champions. From where I sat, his relation to his father was very much evident. A fair bit taller, his dark hair drifted in his face in a way that was oddly majestic. His grin crinkled in the same way as Amos', the only difference being Diggory Junior didn't look as though he'd shove a granny in front of a moving truck to hold onto his glee.

Despite the fact that he looked likeable enough, he was related to Stubble. A dark part of me was almost happy that it was he who'd been selected, because if anything bad happened it would wipe Stubble's annoying smile from his obnoxiously ruddy face.

But nothing bad was going to happen, I reminded myself. There was no reason to worry about any of the students because Dumbledore claimed to have everything under control and it was all I could do to force myself to believe him.

It took me a while to register that Dumbledore was talking again. The cries of joy faded to hear what it was the Headmaster had to say and I couldn't help but feel comforted by the enormous smile plastered to his face.

"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." He gave a small nod as though agreeing with himself on the behalf of everyone in the room. "By cheering-"

If he said anything else, I didn't hear it. My eyes locked onto the Goblet as the flames that had died back down to a sulphurous blue, surged red once more. I swiveled, legs dangling over the side of the beam as I lent forward to get a closer look. My stomach seemed to spark in time with the fire and the second a name burst from the top, I felt like I was going to be sick.

Dumbledore's hands gently cupped the still burning parchment. My core iced over as his eyes briefly flitted to the spot where I rested. His smile was no longer present.

I couldn't tell if the room had gone deathly quiet or I'd lost my hearing in the horror of what I knew was coming next.

"Harry Potter," Dumbledore's clear voice boomed.

Heads began to spin, wide eyes fastening themselves to the Gryffindor table. I followed their gaze.

Harry.

"I didn't put my name in. You know I didn't," he breathed, fixing Hermione and Ron with a stunned stare.

No. No this was not happening. This was not okay. The ice that had flooded my core seeped through the rest of me, turning me numb.

I knew I'd heard the name Potter before but I'd never made the link. The familiarity of the voice had played in my mind but I'd brushed it off. I'd eavesdropped on a lot of conversations during my time at Hogwarts, it could have belonged to anyone.

An angry rumble sounded below me as the dramatic reveal began to sink in.

Dumbledore called to Harry again and slowly, shakily, the young wizard rose from his seat. My mouth felt dry as I watched him stumble towards the Headmaster, seeming to shrink under the glares of the students around him.

Why Harry? Out of all the people it could have been, what made him so special? He was fourteen - younger than me and as far as I knew, lot less experienced when it came to fighting off deadly threats. Was it some kind of prank? A dangerous game played by someone who had a bone to pick with him? My fingers grasped at the hair on the back of my head as he reached Dumbledore.

The shouting grew louder by the second. I couldn't help but feel annoyed by their anger. It seemed to be a thing with magical folk to play the blame game and jump to conclusions the second they came across something they didn't understand.

I was an undiscovered 'creature' that had taken down a few wizards in self defense. Naturally I was dangerous and had to be monitored if not contained.

Harry's name had been pulled from the Goblet of Fire. Therefore he had to be some kind of selfish, egotistical bad-boy whose only goal was to be the centre of attention at all times. I glowered down at the cruel names that were being thrown around, wanting nothing more than to go down there and shut them all up.

As he reached the staff table, Harry's shoulders hitched and he was directed towards the adjoining room.

I stayed locked in place until Harry disappeared and Dumbledore turned to address the room.

"That is all for this evening. You are dismissed. I'd advise you head back to your dormitories or living quarters and get a good night's rest."

As soon as the last word fell from his mouth, he spun and marched towards the back room. Several other adults rose from their seats and followed after him, the heads of the other schools and the Ministry officials among them.

The smile that had once seemed unremovable had slipped from Stubble's face, replaced with a dark anger that I hadn't seen in him before.

I watched, frozen, as they disappeared one by one, Moody clattering along at the back. The expression on his face was significantly less surprised than anyone else's which only worked to set me further on edge.

The second they'd all gone, I dropped from the beam and shot to where Hermione and Ron were still sitting in shock.

"Why Harry?" I asked, ignoring the dark mutterings of the students that marched past. Hermione's head shot up to stare in my general direction, concern etched into every corner of her expression.

"Danny," she murmured, obviously struggling to filter through her own thoughts. Ron's eyes remained locked on the door Harry had left through.

"Why Harry?" I repeated, voice quaking slightly. "Why would Harry's name come out of the Goblet?"

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Ron muttered. I turned to face him, unsettled by the darkness that had seeped in behind his eyes. "He figured out a way to get his name in there and he kept it to himself."

"You can't seriously think that?" Hermione hissed a millisecond before I could.

Ron shifted his stare from the door, to Hermione. "What else am I supposed to think?"

The betrayed look on his face only worked to rile me up more.

"I haven't known Harry as long as you guys but I know genuine surprise when I see it and he didn't just look surprised, he looked horrified. You can't blame him for this."

"Watch me," Ron stood abruptly and joined the river of students departing the hall.

"Is he for real?" I asked, staring at his back as he angrily shoved his way through a group of lingering first years. Hermione let out a strained sigh as she too pulled herself up from the table.

"Maybe you should check on him," she suggested.

"Ron?"

"Harry."

I blinked at the harshness of her whisper and floated back a little. Before I could come to terms with what was going on, she ran to catch up with Ron.

Harry. She was right. I had to check on Harry.

Despite my efforts, I couldn't make my body move. As much as I wanted to be there for my friend, the thought of going in there, of hearing the arguments and curses that I'd heard in my head for the past week, paralysed me. How could it be Harry?

It wasn't until an irate Hufflepuff student almost crashed into me that I managed to snap out of it.

With a final glance at the Goblet, I flew for the back room.

AN: I... have very little to say about this chapter. I'm actually fairly happy with how it turned out. Sorry to everyone who wanted to see Danny's name come out of the Goblet, twas not destined to be.

So because this chapter was very centred around the Goblet and is basically my take on a chapter that already exists, the next update will be on the 3rd of March. That's two weeks tomorrow, so it's a speedy turn around. My stockpiling is going pretty wonderously well - I have up to chapter 27 which means that I won't be disappearing off the face of the Earth for a few months. If I can keep up with the bimonthly updates I will, but we shall have to see how things go!

Until next time!

~Mea