Here we go another one for you!
Please react to the options I've given you!
Chapter 8 Goblet of Fire
As the next day was Saturday, most students would normally have breakfasted late. Rose and Neville 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 around 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?" Rose asked a third-year girl.
"All the Durmstrang lot," she replied. "But I haven't seen anyone from Hogwarts yet."
"Bet some of them put it in last night after we'd all gone to bed," said Harry who approached them with Ron and Hermoine following. "I would've if it had been me. . . wouldn't have wanted everyone watching. What if the goblet just gobbed you right back out again?"
Someone laughed behind Harry. Fred, George, Fabian and Lee Jordan hurrying down the staircase, all four of them looking extremely excited.
"Done it," Fred said in a triumphant whisper to Rose, Neville, Harry, Ron and Hermoine. "Just taken it."
"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 four of us if one of us wins," said Lee, grinning broadly.
"It's not going to work," said Hermione warningly. "I'm sure Dumbledore will have thought of this." Rose agreed with her.
"He would have thought about something as simple as Aging potion," Rose said. "Honestly Fabian you should know better."
Fred, George, Fabian and Lee ignored them.
"Ready?" Fred said to the other three, quivering with excitement. "C'mon, then - I'll go first -"
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 Rose 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 thrown by an invisible shot-putter. They landed painfully, ten feet away on the cold stone floor, and 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 her grandfather coming out of the Great Hall and Rose smiled. 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 Mr. 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 and Fabian, who were howling with laughter.
Rose and Neville still chuckled when they wanted to continue their way to the Great Hall. "Might I have a word with you Rosella?" Rose felt a hand on her shoulder. "You too, Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Potter."
Rose nodded looking curious. They made their way up to his office.
"What is going on?" Harry asked her softly.
"No idea," Rose whispered back.
"Sugar mice!" her grandfather called out to the gargoyle that led to his office. They continued their way up into her grandfather's office.
"Uncle Aeron?" Rose asked surprised.
"How are you love?" uncle Aeron embrace her.
"Fine, the whole Tournament thing is very exciting, Fred and George tried to get over the age line. And Fabian was going to try it too but Fred and George already suffered the consequences before he could try." Rose chuckled. "You just missed it."
"I'm sure it was hilarious," uncle Aeron admitted chuckling. "Hi Harry, Neville, please sit down all of you."
They sat down on the comfy chairs her grandfather had conjured for them. Rose now saw that Professor Moody was also standing in the corner. His good eye fixed at her.
"You are probably wondering why we asked you to come here," her grandfather said. Rose nodded and Harry and Neville did the same thing. "It's about the occurrence in Daigon Alley. The bookstore to be exact. Could you please tell us what happened?"
Rose swallowed with difficulty. "Uhm, sure." She said. And with help of Harry and Neville they told them what happened.
"Did any of you happen to see his face?" uncle Aeron asked.
Neville shook his head.
"He was really pale," Harry said in thought. "That's all I can remember."
"Good," uncle Aeron said. "Anything else? It might help tracking the guy down."
"Miss Dumbledore perhaps?" Moody growled.
Rose shrugged. "I can only remember, that he was tall, I believe straw colored hair and very pale indeed."
Uncle Aeron sighed in frustration. "Thanks for your time, all three of you."
"And I would especially want to thank you two, Mr. Potter and Mr. Longbottom," her grandfather said. And Harry nodded. "According to Alliana you were both really fast in handling the situation. And you saved Rosella. Thank you for that."
"No problem Professor," Neville said, straightening up a bit.
"Thanks for your time you can go now," grandfather Albus said.
"Bye!" Rose said leaving the office and they went to the Great Hall for 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. Rose, Harry and Neville led the way over to Dean and Seamus, who were discussing those Hogwarts students of seventeen or over who might be entering.
"There's a rumor going around that Warrington got up early and put his name in," Dean told them. "That big bloke from Slytherin who looks like a sloth."
Harry, who had played Quidditch against Warrington, shook his head in disgust. "We can't have a Slytherin champion!"
"And all the Hufflepuffs are talking about Diggory," said Seamus contemptuously. "But I wouldn't have thought he'd have wanted to risk his good looks."
"Well," Rose said. "Cedric is one of our better options right?" The boy's groaned.
"Don't tell me you got hit with the Diggory disease!" Dean exclaimed dramatically.
"I'm just saying that he could win," Rose said simply while taking toast. "He's smart and in shape. So Hogwarts could have a good chance with Cedric."
"Yes, you've got that stupid Diggory disease," Harry groaned crossing his arms.
"I do not have the Diggory disease!" Rose said fiercely.
"C'mon Rose, we can do a lot of things for SPEW in the Library," she said. "Let the boys be immature and drool over the girls from Beauxbatons!" The girls left for a good day in the Library, but Rose regretted spending the day looking up things for SPEW and left for the feast, more frustrated then ever. Stupid boys with their stupid boythings. And Harry just stating that she had the hot's for Cedric Diggory. She so did not have that! But nonetheless she sat down beside him at the feast.
The Halloween feast seemed to take much longer than usual. Perhaps because it was their second feast in two days, Rose didn't seem to fancy the extravagantly prepared food as much as she would have normally. Like everyone else in the Hall, judging by the constantly craning necks, the impatient expressions on every face, the fidgeting, and the standing up to see whether Dumbledore had finished eating yet, Rose simply wanted the plates to clear, and to hear who had been selected as champions.
At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state; there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall, which died away almost instantly as her grandfather got 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. Mr. Crouch, however, looked quite uninterested, almost bored.
"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said grandfather Albus. "I estimate that it requires one more 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 shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes.
Everyone watched, waiting. . . . A few people kept checking their watches. . .
"Any second," Lee Jordan whispered, two seats away from Rose.
The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. 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.
Her grandfather caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white.
"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."
"No surprises there!" yelled Ron who sat across Harry as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall.
Rose saw Viktor Krum rise from the Slytherin table and slouch up toward her grandfather; 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, 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!"
"It's her, Ron!" Harry shouted as the girl who so resembled a veela got gracefully to her feet, shook back her sheet of silvery blonde hair, and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. Rose scoffed irritated.
"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, Rose thought. Two of the girls who had not been selected had dissolved into tears and were sobbing with their heads on their arms.
When Fleur Delacour too had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement you could almost taste it. The Hogwarts champion next...
And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip her grandfather pulled the third piece of parchment.
"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Cedric Diggory!"
"No! " said Ron loudly but nobody really heard him; the uproar from the next table was too great. 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 teachers' table. Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before her grandfather could make himself heard again.
"Excellent!" grandfather Albus 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 her grandfather 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.
Automatically, it seemed, grandfather Albus reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which he stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at him. And then her grandfather cleared his throat and read out - "Harry Potter."
