Hermione had finally emerged from the library, wielding pins for her new house-elf movement. While I understood what she was going for, I also knew that house-elves weren't exactly creatures that wanted the freedom she was trying to give them. Duffy and Winky were a prime example of that. God, how am I going to tell her I have a house-elf? Ron was more against joining her group than me and Harry, but the two of us were conflicted as to how to explain that—while we supported her as a friend—we weren't entirely sure what she was going for was worth it. We thankfully were spared having an argument by Hedwig flying in with Sirius's reply to Harry.
He basically informed Harry he'd be returning to my home—as it wasn't too far from Hogwarts anyway. Strange things were happening apparently and he felt that informing Dumbledore when his scar hurt again would be wise. Harry looked concerned, but upon reminding him Sirius would be safe at my home, he relaxed again and I ended up treating Hedwig to get her to send a letter back to Sirius—informing him about the caretaker staying at my house and not to worry because she'd sworn to stay only in the one guest room, living room, and kitchen. He should be fine as father kept a smaller kitchen upstairs. Duffy will take care of everything while he's there and he shouldn't bump into the caretaker at all.
Then, the full moon started to get closer. Dumbledore had summoned me to his office to ensure I was aware of the risks and where I'd be staying during that night. He also had a meeting with Snape, who—much to his displeasure—would be preparing me the Wolfsbane potion for the entirety of the week leading up to the full moon. When I asked whether I would be staying in the Shrieking Shack during this time though, the elder wizard smiled and showed me somewhere else.
It was just a tower that was a little more isolated from the rest of the castle, but he'd set it up for my stay, so I had a comfortable place to sleep off my transformation without worry of anyone interrupting or myself escaping. He'd already said he would stop by on the full moon to secure it while I was in there and I would be able to get out easily enough once I shifted back. Lupin's explanation of the severity of my transformation made him concerned though, and he had let me know that someone would be there to keep an eye on me while I was changed. My assumption had been McGonagall; a calm, powerful witch who could watch me unharmed in her Animagus form. I wouldn't know until the day though, so I pushed the thought from my mind. I still had classes to worry about, after all.
Defense Against the Dark Arts had proven to be one of the more demanding ones, especially when Moody announced he'd be showing us how to defend ourselves against the Imperius Curse. It just made me uneasy to know I'd be at the full mercy of Barty Crouch Jr., and with my emotions balancing precariously on a thin line with the upcoming full moon, I was just as uneasy about his class as the last time with the spiders.
"Are you sure you're all right, Nox?" Hermione asked, having been the first to know a full moon was approaching and seeing my ill features.
"I've got time," I grumbled as we walked.
"Yeah, like a few days," Ron scoffed, though his eyes held concern as well. "You've been taking your potion, right?"
"Every day," I muttered, dragging a hand through my tousled hair. "Tomorrow will be my first day off classes and once the full moon is over, depending on how I feel, I should be back the next day. With my change being… more aggressive than the typical one, I might have to take an extra day off."
The trio were still worried, and it hadn't helped that I ended up explaining how bad my past transformations were. They let it go once in class though, seeing as we needed to be more focused on getting out of the Imperius Curse than whatever problems I'd have later on in the week. Students were called up one-by-one, put under the curse, and made to do various tricks. I was certain some were going to be sore the rest of the day since people like Neville were doing gymnastic-level tricks that they couldn't usually do.
No one was able to break the curse yet though, up until Harry. He was supposed to jump onto a desk and seemed to have some sort of hesitation and plowed directly into the desk instead. Moody was thrilled, getting him to do it again and again until he was able to stop the curse completely. Moody tried a few others then, who also failed before it was my turn. I was rather concerned by how eager Moody looked to be trying this curse on me but stepped forward nonetheless and waited.
Now, I'd… dabbled when I was younger, in my own world. School would get a little rough and some friends I'd gotten to know tried some things. The Imperius Curse was like getting high, almost. Everything faded away until your mind sort of floated about happily. Voices drifted in the back of my mind, like Moody's telling me to crawl on the floor and bark like a dog. It seemed fun. I'd started to bend my legs, but then stopped because something was wrong.
It took a moment to place it. Why my heart was racing, why something in the back of my mind was put on edge, why I suddenly felt very, very afraid. It was like stepping into a pitch-black room and knowing there was someone standing there watching you but being unable to see them. When was I last able to be this happy and relaxed? I wondered vaguely, the echoing command to act like a dog still edging me a little towards the ground. No. No, I've never been. Not since coming here. Not since Voldemort, being a werewolf, and father. Where is he? Is he doing this? No. No, I don't want to. I won't. I won't!
Everything snapped into clarity then and I took a small stumbling step back as my legs straightened out. The class was muttering, and Moody looked even more thrilled than before. Under the Imperius curse, I'd forgotten I was in class and that I wasn't alone. It unsettled me, how easily it was for someone to make me forget that—forget how to be on edge.
"There we go!" Moody cheered, waving his hand around at the class as he jabbed his wand in my direction, making me wince. "He did it, did you see? It took Potter four tries, but this boy got it in one! You been under the curse before?"
I shook my head, still trying to calm my frantically beating heart as he stepped ever closer with a manic look on his face.
"No? It's not often someone gets out of it first go. Potter and you, the only two of the class, eh? Curious. Maybe it was a fluke?"
I felt that happy feeling again, unprepared for him to just curse me a second time out of the blue, but it broke off far more quickly. The curse put me on edge, made me paranoid. Paranoia is what kept me safe from father, from creatures, from danger. Paranoia would keep me safe from this curse too, it seemed. And when the happiness faded, I jerked away from Moody's hand on my shoulder, unsettled with the contact.
"Not a fluke," he said with a crazed grin. "They'll not be able to control you. No, no. Not easily, no. You'll be a troublesome one."
A chill of unease went through me at that, reminding me again that this wasn't Moody speaking, but the Death Eater. Thankfully, the class was over, and we were quick to leave—Harry and Ron complaining about Moody.
"The way he talks, you'd think we were all going to be attacked any second," Harry grumbled.
"Yeah, I know." Ron skipped a step, having a harder time getting past the curse's effects than others. "Talk about paranoid. And when are we supposed to read up on resisting the Imperius Curse with everything else we've got to do?"
Our workload had definitely increased since last year. I knew it was because the O.W.L.s were coming up next year, but it could be worse. As it was, I had to stay locked up in the tower the following day, already feeling ill. Transforming was painful. Lupin had warned me the first night how terrible it felt. Not even father or the Cruciatus Curse could really compare. It was like your body being torn apart and haphazardly being pieced back together again.
The following evening, under the light of the full moon, I cried out in agony as my bones cracked, snapping like twigs as they shifted and rearranged themselves. I grew larger and hair sprouted all over my body; the change tearing my clothes as I dug my claws into the wood floor. Then, when I finally shifted completely, I sagged. My breaths came out as harsh pants and whines as I stumbled myself towards the heap of pillows and blankets that had been set up for me. My body felt as though it were on fire. I was glad I hadn't eaten, because—much like my first transformation—I knew I would have thrown it up.
It was my magic sensitivity that was the problem. Whereas Lupin was sane with the Wolfsbane potion and simply a human-thinking, bear-sized wolf; my mind was more muddled. I wasn't as aggressive, sure, but everything was overly sensitive. Every scent made my nose burn and my eyes water, every movement felt like climbing through sludge. My entire body felt on fire like I was walking through some hazy fever-dream. I was the least likely werewolf to attack anyone. It was too much effort, too much pain to even try anything. I hadn't been able to move my first time, and it had only gotten slightly better as I went through more transformations every month.
The worst part was, I was alone. No Lupin, no Sirius. There were no windows in this tower, so no Dubh either. It was my first transformation on my own. It wouldn't have been too big of a problem, but when I was in pain, all I ever wanted was someone there with me. I needed someone to keep me grounded, to remind me it was temporary, it would pass. I remember telling Lupin once that I didn't know how he did it for so long on his own. He had since told me he'd do everything he could to make sure I wouldn't have to either.
Then, of course, he left to do work for the Order. I sank into the cushions with a whine, feeling absolutely terrible. Then, the door unlocked, cracking open, and sending my heart into my chest in fear. I'd started to push myself back up, stumbling on my paws at the agony that the movement caused. What came in though, made me nearly cry in relief. A large black dog stepped into the room, glancing behind it as the door was closed and latched again.
It was Sirius. I don't know how he managed to get here—Dumbledore, probably—nor was I sure it was entirely safe, but for now, I was happy. I let out whines as I sank back into the cushions, earning a sigh from Sirius as he padded over and nuzzled my head with his. I got the feeling he was silently calling me troublesome, but he laid down beside me and settled his head on my side, allowing me the comfort of knowing I wouldn't be alone tonight.
He ended up leaving the next morning, ruffling my hair and letting me know he would stay out of sight at my home until next month when Dumbledore let him in again for me. I thanked him sheepishly, hating that I wasn't comfortable enough to handle it on my own, and a little annoyed that he said I couldn't tell Harry he was here the days of the full moon, for his own safety. The last thing we needed was Harry coming to find him while I was transformed.
He and the others were rather glad to see me though, grateful I made it through everything all right, even if I was still looking pale and tired. As time went on though, I started to get a little worried, and it wasn't just because of the homework piling up the tournament, or my second transformation that had happened a month later.
I really need to start thinking ahead of things now that father's gone, and I have slightly less to distract me. Voldemort's power is growing, and it will be even worse after the Triwizard Tournament. He'll have more followers, an actual body, and with Umbridge coming here, Hogwarts is going to start preparing for war. O.W.L.s are the least of our problems. I need to start training. My magic isn't as good as it could be. I need to get dueling practice in, and maybe… maybe I can physically train and train my creatures too?
Some are attached enough to be helpful when the biggest part of the war comes along. I don't want to drag them in if they're unwilling, or at all, but I won't have a choice. The war will affect everyone, the Hogwarts students, and my reserve. I want to try a few things with magic too. If I can get magic or potions to help me with my physical abilities… They'll be caught off guard, like with Malfoy. Wizards train up their magic naturally, not so much their physical strengths. They expect a duel, not physical confrontation. That might be my best option. I may be decent at dueling for my age, but against someone with more experience, I'll need surprise on my side… I'll have to study up on some things in the library when I get the chance.
"Nox, are you listening?"
"Hm?" I hummed—a bit lost in my thoughts as Hermione pointed out the crowd of students blocking us from the Great Hall.
"Ron said there's a sign on the door. Beauxbaton and Durmstrang will be here on the 30th of October, so classes end early that day. We're to be out front to greet them."
Ron had his growth spurt early on, so he'd been taller than the others and could see said sign—something that frustrated me since I was rather tall myself in my past life but determined to be short or a late bloomer in this one it seemed.
"Only a week away!" A Hufflepuff exclaimed. "I wonder if Cedric knows. Think I'll go and tell him."
Shit. I remember now. Cedric was one of the champions with Krum. Not only that but… he dies. Voldemort kills him just for being there. I'll have to do something to help. I can't keep sitting aside as people get hurt, especially if someone's going to die. I drummed my fingers on my leg and chewed my lip, starting to feel stupid for not realizing things sooner.
"Cedric?" Ron questioned, not knowing who they had been talking about.
"Diggory," Harry reminded him, us having met his father and him at the Quidditch World Cup. "He must be entering the tournament.
"That idiot, Hogwarts champion?"
"He's not an idiot. You just don't like him because he beat Gryffindor at Quidditch," Hermione huffed. "I've heard he's a really good student and he's a prefect."
My brows furrowed, a mild annoyance welling up in me for some reason. Though my emotions will be off for a while since the transformation was only a few days ago.
"You only like him because he's handsome," Ron argued.
"Excuse me, I don't like people just because they're handsome!" Hermione countered though I spotted Harry eyeing me with a mischievous look.
I raised a brow, but he just smiled, knowing something I didn't, apparently. I don't like not knowing things.
Everything was hectic leading up to the arrival of Durmstrang and Beauxbaton. Teachers were trying to encourage those who did well to stand out and those who didn't to keep quiet. The Great Hall was decked out amazingly overnight with huge silk banners of the four houses and the Hogwarts coat of arms. Hogwarts was doing its best to be impressive.
The students, meanwhile, were doing their best to find out more about the tournament with little success. Fred and George had been bugging professors left and right, but only learned how to earn points: by doing well in the challenges. Hermione had read up on it too, being sure to remind them how dangerous the last tournaments were and how the head of schools were on the panel of judges. This, of course, she'd found in Hogwarts, A History, which only proved to further irritate her because house-elves weren't once mentioned.
The three boys of the group had paid her the two Sickles, but none of them wore the badge. Not one of them had gotten the courage to explain to her that the house-elves themselves actually enjoyed their work, or when they did, she just ignored them and chalked it up to brainwashing. They had long since given up trying to convince her otherwise.
Hedwig had returned as well, dropping off a letter for Nox about using Dubh instead to contact him since she stood out, and he relayed the information to Harry, informing him also that Sirius was safely tucked away at his home with Lupin—who had also returned from his work. This news, of course, made Nox rather annoyed, muttering, "They would be home while I'm not around." He got over it rather quickly though, once classes were finished and McGonagall gathered them up to the front of the castle to greet the two incoming schools.
"Nearly six," Ron muttered, having checked his watch as they waited. "How d'you reckon they're coming? The train?"
"I doubt it," Hermione replied.
"How, then? Broomsticks?" Harry asked, but Nox grumbled.
"Something impressive. That's all this tournament is, is a way to passive-aggressively prove which school is the best."
"I suppose so…"
Darkness began to fall, leaving the murmuring students slightly chilly sans the main group, who still had their charmed cloaks. Then, Dumbledore called out from the back row of students.
"Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"
"Where?" Students questioned as someone finally spotted them and pointed upward.
A large blue carriage was being pulled through the sky by twelve, winged palomino horses the size of elephants. With a loud bang, the carriage landed before the students, bouncing slightly with the rough landing. The door to the carriage opened then and a boy in blue robes brought down a set of golden steps before bouncing away. A high-heeled shoe emerged from the carriage, belonging to the largest woman any of the students had ever seen.
She reminded Harry of Hagrid with her height and dark eyes, though she undoubtedly dwarfed the groundskeeper. It was Dumbledore breaking into applause that got the students out of their shock, clapping as well. The woman approached Dumbledore and held out a hand which he took to kiss the back of respectfully.
"My dear Madam Maxine. Welcome to Hogwarts."
"Dumbly-dort," Maxine replied in return. "I 'ope I find you well?"
"In excellent form, I thank you."
"My pupils," she said, waving a hand out to the boys and girls that stepped out of the carriage.
"Must be cold," Nox muttered, pointing out that they weren't wearing anything to ward off the chill as Dumbledore offered to let them head in first.
That being said, his eyes hadn't strayed from the oversized horses.
"My steeds require forceful 'andling," Maxine countered when Dumbledore mentioned Hagrid. "Zey are very strong."
"I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job if Nox doesn't end up taking it first. Nox?"
No one had noticed the boy slipping away from the group towards the horses. All eyes went to him as he stopped, close enough for the lead horse to sniff his hair with its nose.
"Ah…" Nox glanced at the horse and back to Dumbledore as the headmaster smiled.
"Do try not to get trampled."
Nox nodded, staying put as the horse snorted and nudged him with its head. Even Maxine was surprised, questioning Dumbledore's sanity for letting Nox anywhere near the horses.
"He has worked with magical creatures his whole life and handles even dragons quite well for his age. While I don't believe he has the strength to do anything your horses do not wish to do, he… has a way with said creatures. They may just follow him to the paddock out of curiosity."
"Ze boy is mad," she muttered, turning towards the door. "I von't be responsible for any problems."
"Of course," Dumbledore agreed, bowing as she slipped inside with her students to warm up.
It took a little while longer for Durmstrang to show up—Nox having made friends with one of the horses already, which was chewing on his head in a way that couldn't be comfortable. Yet he acted like he was having the time of his life as he pet the next horse in line that had leaned towards him curiously. Then, there was a muffled rumbling out in the dark and Lee Jordon pointed out the ripple of the lake.
A long black pole appeared, cutting through the water followed by a mast and the rest of a skeletal ship—looking as though it had literally crawled out from the depths of the ocean. An anchor was soon dropped, and a plank lowered onto the bank, allowing the people on board to step out. The man leading the group was older, wearing furs the same color as his silver hair.
"Dumbledore!" He grinned. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"
"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied cheerily, shaking hands with the man.
"Dear old Hogwarts," Karkaroff said, smiling though Harry noticed he didn't look truly happy.
He would know, as he'd often seen the same expression on Nox's face.
"How good it is to be here, how good. Viktor, come along, into the warmth. You don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold."
Dumbledore did not mind as the others were waved forward and Viktor Krum passed up to the front with the older man. Ron couldn't be more excited, punching Harry in the arm.
"I don't believe it! Krum, Harry! Viktor Krum!"
"For Heaven's sake, Ron, he's only a Quidditch player," Hermione huffed.
"Only a Quidditch player? Hermione, he's one of the best Seekers in the world! I had no idea he was still at school!"
Hermione rolled her eyes as the other students started to head inside as well. "I'm going to go get Nox before he joins the Beauxbatons just for the horses."
Said boy was currently shoving one horse nose away from his cloak while another chewed lightly on his arm and a third tugged at tufts of hair. Hermione was certain that if she left him any longer, the boy would be eaten by them.
The feast that evening was especially grand, with far more options for food than before in order to appease the guests from other countries. It made no difference to me though, for I continued to pile up my plate with food and scarf it down like a starving animal. Though, I suppose I technically am. I'm still weak from changing and it only seems to make me even hungrier than usual. Oh well. If Beauxbaton or Durmstrang have a problem with it, who cares. Dubh flew in then, settling on my shoulder and I passed him some food as well, ignoring the few people who eyed me when he did. Their opinions hardly mattered to me. They'll never see me again anyway, after this arc, which is a bit weird, but I'm not exactly J.K. Rowling.
One of the Beauxbatons slipped over then, asking if we were finished with one of the French dishes—they'd all settled at the Ravenclaw table, so their dishes had quickly been emptied. Ron looked absolutely dumbstruck by the woman, who—if I remembered right—was somehow related to the hypnotizing creatures that had been at the World Cup. Still, a bit annoyed they managed to make me tense like that.
"Here," I said, handing her the dish. "We're finished."
She nodded and returned to the Ravenclaw table as Ron came back to his senses.
"She's a veela!"
"Of course, she isn't!" Hermione argued. "I don't see anyone else gaping at her like an idiot!"
She was wrong though, a number of boys had turned to watch the part-veela walk away and even I had spared her a glance, though partially against my will. Getting to that age now though. Puberty is annoying and going through it a second time is even worse. She's not even that pretty. I'd rather have… My eyes drifted towards a head of bushy brown curls and I felt my cheeks heat before I quickly looked down at my food. Oh, no. No, no, no. Really? She's a good friend! She's helpful a-and caring and definitely supposed to get with Ron, so I can't… Ah, shit. I already am, aren't I?
"When you've all put your eyes back in," Hermione said sharply, "you'll be able to see who's just arrived."
Sure enough, a quick glance at the staff table revealed Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch Senior had just arrived.
"What are they doing here?" Harry questioned.
"They organized the Triwizard Tournament, didn't they?" Hermione reminded him. "I suppose they wanted to be here to see it start."
"They're probably judges," I mentioned around a mouthful of food, swallowing and muttering an apology when Hermione crinkled her nose in disgust.
Desert appeared then though, so any concern over that was gone as I dug into a blancmange that was nudged over and some ice cream as well. Once everyone was finished though, the big tournament was started.
"I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket—"
"The what?" Harry questioned as Dumbledore went on.
"—just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."
Applause rang out for the two men as Dumbledore gestured to the two Head of Schools as well.
"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts. The casket if you please, Mr. Filch."
A jewel-encrusted chest was brought out, drawing the eyes of the students as it was placed on the table before Dumbledore.
"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman, 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."
I snorted quietly. "And they said it wouldn't be as dangerous this year."
"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament, 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 Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."
Dumbledore opened the casket and pulled out a large goblet, filled to the very top with white-blue flames. It was placed on top of the casket, visible to everyone, as he went on to explain the conditions.
"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. 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, 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."
Grumbles of complaint started at that, many of those who'd been eager to try the tournament out now being disqualified due to age.
"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete 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."
Everyone got up to head back to the dorms, Fred and George grinning as they joined our little group.
"An Age line! Well, that should be fooled by an Aging Potion, shouldn't it? And once your name's in that goblet, you're laughing, it can't tell whether you're seventeen or not!"
Hermione didn't look convinced. "But I don't think anyone under seventeen will stand a chance. We just haven't learned enough."
"Speak for yourself," George countered. "You'll try and get in, won't you, Harry?"
Harry was hesitant, undoubtedly thinking about what Dumbledore had said. We had a brief encounter with Karkaroff in the doorway when he recognized Harry, but Moody took care of things easily enough before we were able to return to our dorms. The others got up early, but I slept in, not willing to waste time that I could be catching up on sleep. I was slowly sleeping better now that I had less to worry about regarding my father. I'd decided to start getting up early and working out after this evening though, to get a head start on the upcoming war.
Working out in the morning, actual magic practice during lunch—probably in the Room of Requirement if I can remember how to get there—then studying in the library for ways to improve physically with magic in the evening. All of that on top of the usual schoolwork. Busy, busy. I yawned, covering my mouth as I headed in for dinner later that evening. I'd been looking up some things in the library already with no luck.
It's like using a wand has become so easy and second nature that wizards never consider anything else. Mind you, being strong or moving fast won't stop a curse, but if you can move fast enough you can dodge and move in before they expect it. Maybe Madam Pomfrey might have a clue… I settled beside Hermione as Harry and Ron chimed in greetings with her.
"Where've you been?"
"Library," I grunted out, diving into my food once more.
I'd forgotten to eat lunch in my search for information.
"You and Hermione," Ron huffed, rolling his eyes. "Say, did you know Hagrid likes Madam Maxine?"
I hummed, not really answering him, but he went on, eager to share the gossip.
"He forgot about us when we visited at lunch. He'd left us to walk into the castle with her and was wearing cologne too!"
I shrugged, not one for idle gossip, as I swallowed down some chicken. "How're your brothers? They do anything stupid to try and enter the tournament?"
"Nah. They offered Aging potion to others though. Charged them a Galleon for it, but sales dropped off fast once the first person who tried it ended up with a beard trying to step over the line."
Huh, that's definitely changed then. Probably because they don't need the money since I paid them for the bet. I hadn't even thought of that. I just wanted to help them get the shop started and knew they wouldn't just take money offered to them if they're anything like their parents. Once everyone was finished eating though, Dumbledore finally got to his feet to do the announcement.
"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," he hummed. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them to 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 gestured to a door behind the staff table before waving his wand, extinguishing all the candles and leaving only the light from the goblet. The flames flickered from blue to a vibrant red, an arch of flame stretching into the air, and a burnt piece of parchment fluttering out. Dumbledore caught it and read the name.
"The champion for Durmstrang will be Viktor Krum."
Cheering swept through the room, no one looking surprised ass the goblet turned red again.
"The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!"
The partial veela stepped out of the hall with cheers as well, except from the other disappointed Beauxbatons.
Then, the third parchment flew out and the hall went quiet.
"The Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory!"
Hufflepuff cheered loudly, drowning out the complaints from the other houses as Dumbledore waited for his turn to speak again.
"Excellent! 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—"
The goblet shifted red again, silencing Dumbledore as the students froze and began to murmur in confusion. He caught the fourth piece of parchment, staring at the name on it for a while before reading it.
"Harry Potter."
Everyone turned to look at Harry, who was rather pale and dumbstruck. I wasn't sure he could hear the murmurs or if he even realized that everyone was looking. McGonagall stepped down to whisper into Dumbledore's ear as I grabbed Harry's arm, trying to ground him.
"Harry, breathe."
He sucked in a shaky breath, looking to me with wide eyes of fear and confusion. "I didn't put my name in. You know I didn't."
I nodded, agreeing. He thought about it, like everyone in Hogwarts did the second they heard about the tournament, but it was just that. A wishful fantasy. He knew there were dangers, ones that he was uncertain of, that he didn't know if he had the knowledge to beat. He hadn't truly wanted to join the tournament.
"I know you didn't," I reassured him, knowing that Ron would be furious with him later and that Hermione was in too much shock to really be able to say anything to support Harry right now.
I needed to be that for him. He's just a kid, and he's going to go through hell because of this tournament. Because of Barty Crouch Jr. and Voldemort, and I'm not sure yet if there's anything I could do to stop it.
"I know you didn't, but they're going to come to a decision, and you need to be prepared for that. You need to prepare yourself for what's about to happen because it won't be easy, and a lot of people aren't going to be happy." I tightened my grip on his arm when his gaze started to drift, noticing the other students. "Find something to focus on," I ordered. "Anything. A chair, a freckle, a portrait, a memory, anything. Because falling into your own head right now will only mean making mistakes and being unable to explain things properly or be taken seriously."
"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore called again. "Harry! Up here, if you please!"
"Take a breath, Harry," I urged, giving his arm one last squeeze. "No matter what, I'll be here if you need anything. I believe you."
He nodded, closing his eyes for a moment and breathing deeply before getting up and heading toward Dumbledore, and through the champions' door.
The only one excited about Harry having been chosen appeared to be Ludo Bagman. Dumbledore had questioned him thoroughly, and those from the other schools were accusing him and Hogwarts itself of cheating. Harry was just glad that Nox had helped him before he stepped into the champions' room. With all the arguing and the insults being aimed towards him and Dumbledore, he would have surely shouted or fumbled through explaining that he hadn't put his own name in the goblet. Not that they believed him anyway. The only ones who did were Dumbledore himself and Professor McGonagall. And Nox. The others will too, I'm sure, he reminded himself, a warmth settling in his chest at the thought. He had people to back him up and that was all that mattered at the moment, even if everyone else was against him.
The more the adults argued though, the more things started to become clear. Someone had put Harry's name in the goblet, and that someone had probably chosen to do so in order for Harry to get killed during the tournament. Either way though, rules were rules and Harry was going to be one of the champions. So, with that finalized, Mr. Crouch began to explain the rules regarding the first task.
"The first task is designed to test your daring, 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. The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests. I think that's all, is it, Albus?"
Dumbledore agreed, though he was watching Mr. Crouch in concern—the man looked ill. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty?"
"No, Dumbledore, I must get back to the Ministry. It is a very busy, very difficult time at the moment. I've left young Weatherby in charge… Very enthusiastic… a little overenthusiastic, if truth be told…"
Harry cracked a smirk, knowing he was speaking about Percy Weasley, who'd yet to shut up about his new job working under the man—who didn't have a clue what his name was. After a moment though, he was dismissed with the other champions, heading back towards Gryffindor tower with Cedric.
"So, we're playing against each other again!" Cedric chimed in, managing a small smile.
"I suppose," Harry replied half-heartedly.
He was wondering how his name could have gotten in and if Nox or Hermione might have an idea.
"So, tell me. How did you get your name in?"
"I didn't," Harry said honestly, glad that he hadn't snapped like he probably would have without Nox helping him focus. "I didn't put it in. I was telling the truth."
Cedric didn't look convinced, waving him off as they went their separate ways. Harry started to worry if anyone would believe him other than his small group of friends and the few professors backing him up. He also wasn't entirely convinced someone put his name in to get him killed. Make a fool of himself, sure, but killed? The only one who really wanted him dead was Voldemort, but the man was hardly walking around Hogwarts. This brought Harry's mind back to the dream he'd had about the villain hiding out in the country somewhere before he shook his mind free of it and took a deep breath.
He focused on those last words Nox had said—swearing that he would help support him and believed him—before giving the password and having the Fat Lady open up to the chaos of crazy Gryffindors inside.
"You should've told us you'd entered!"
"How did you do it without getting a beard? Brilliant!"
"Oh, if it couldn't be me, at least it's a Gryffindor."
"You'll be able to pay back Diggory for that last Quidditch match, Harry!"
"We've got food, Harry, come and have some."
Harry couldn't get a word in as he was dragged around with a banner tied around his neck like a cape and his hands full of food, constantly being asked how he did it. Yet, every time he said he didn't know, it fell on deaf ears. All he wanted to do was go upstairs with his friends, regain some of his sanity since they weren't joining the rest in the party below. And when he finally escaped, he resisted the urge to slam the door and took a breath.
"Where've you two been?" He asked Nox and Ron, who were seated and lying on their beds respectively.
"Oh, hello," Ron said with a strained grin, as Harry struggled to remove the banner tied around him.
"I was avoiding the crowd," Nox answered more readily as he ran his hand over Dubh's feathers calmly. "Hate crowds."
"So, congratulations," Ron said then, making Harry frown.
"What d'you mean, congratulations?"
Even Nox frowned over at Ron.
"Well, no one else got across the Age Line. What did you use, the Invisibility Cloak?"
"The Invisibility Cloak wouldn't have got me over that line," Harry argued.
"Oh, right. I thought you might've told me if it was the cloak because it would've covered both of us, wouldn't it? But you found another way, did you?"
"Ron," Nox chided as Harry frowned and explained yet again that it wasn't him.
"Listen, I didn't put my name in that goblet. Someone else must've done it."
"What would they do that for?"
"I dunno. To kill me?"
Ron didn't look like he believed him, and Harry felt his heart sink. "It's okay, you know, you can tell me the truth. If you don't want everyone else to know, fine, but I don't know why you're bothering to lie, you didn't get into trouble for it, did you? That friend of the Fat Lady's, that Violet, she's already told us all Dumbledore's letting you enter. A thousand Galleons prize money, eh? And you don't have to do end-of-year tests either—"
"I didn't put my name in that goblet!"
Ron scoffed. "Yeah, okay. Only you said this morning you'd have done it last night, and no one would've seen you. I'm not stupid, you know."
Nox opened his mouth, but Harry beat him to it.
"You're doing a really good impression of it."
"Yeah?" Ron bristled. "You want to get to bed, Harry. I expect you'll need to be up early tomorrow for a photo-call or something."
When he jerked the curtains around his bed closed, Nox shook his head and looked to Harry.
"It'll take time, Harry. We can talk later if you want. I am actually tired."
Harry relaxed his tense shoulders and nodded, remembering that Nox had just dealt with another werewolf change recently.
"Lunch?" Nox added, making Harry look up in surprise.
"Um, sure."
Nox nodded again and cracked a small smile before rolling over and closing his own curtains, leaving Harry to blink at them in curiosity. He felt more relaxed knowing Nox had truly believed him—the boy setting a time to meet and talk about things reassuring Harry that he wasn't joking or toying with him. Still, it was a disappointing evening for Harry, with his best friend refusing to believe him over something like this.