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Chapter 26: Fourth Year (Part 14)
16th August. 1998. 9.00pm...
"Um... Is there anything important leading up to Halloween?" Harry asked Ron and Hermione.
They frowned, "Only the people putting their name in the goblet I think." Ron said.
Hermione nodded, "That's all I can think of too." she admitted.
"We can just explain that though." Ron added.
"Right, Fleur you can help with this one. We dont know if it was everyone from Beaubaxton's that put their name in." Harry explained.
"It was." she nodded, "Same as Durmstrang, all of them put their names in too."
"Right. From Hogwarts we had a few people. Angelina from Gryffindor." Harry started.
"Warrington from Slytherin." Draco added. "And a few other higher up students, I don't know what their names were." he shrugged.
"Did any Ravenclaw's put their name in?" Ron asked Luna.
She frowned, "I think so." she shrugged, "Maybe some of the older ones but I can't remember their names."
"Fair enough. There's also Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff." Hermione finished, "Probably a few others, but we don't know who." she shrugged.
"Now we're going to skip until Halloween and the selection of the champions." Harry smiled. "Unless we've missed anything?" he asked Ron and Hermione.
"Oh! Hagrid developed a crush on Madame Maxime." Hermione giggled.
"Oh yeah..." Harry grinned.
"Z'at was very amusing to see. Madame Maxime had a crush on 'Agrid too." Fleur laughed. "She tried so hard to deny it."
"So did Hagrid." Ron chuckled. "That's the only interesting thing until Halloween." Harry nodded and started the memory.
The Halloween feast seemed to take much longer than usual. Perhaps because it was their second feast in two days, Harry didn't seem to fancy the extravagantly prepared food as much as he 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, Harry 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 Dumbledore 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 Dumbledore. "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."
"Isn't that the trophy room?" Sirius asked.
"Yes." Remus nodded.
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 Harry.
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.
Dumbledore 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." Sirius said.
"No surprises there!" yelled Ron
Sirius and Ron looked at each other, surprised. Everyone just laughed.
as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Harry saw Viktor Krum rise from the Slytherin table and slouch up toward Dumbledore; 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!"
"You were a champion?" Alice asked.
"Yes I was." Fleur smiled.
"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.
"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, Harry thought. Two of the girls who had not been selected had dissolved into tears and were sobbing with their heads on their arms.
"Jeez, it's not that big a deal." Lily said.
"Zey were disappointed." Fleur shrugged, "But the two crying were good friends of mine, zey put their names too and zey were really worried about me." she smiled fondly.
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 Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.
"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Cedric Diggory!"
"Nooooo!" James cried in disappointment.
"E' was actually a worthy opponent." Fleur snapped.
"No!" said Ron loudly, but nobody heard him except Harry; 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 Dumbledore could make himself heard again.
"Excellent!" Dumbledore 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 Dumbledore 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, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment.
Harry glanced worriedly at his mother, and moved himself as far away as possible without being noticed. He ended up standing beside the door.
He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out - "Harry Potter."
"WHAT!?" Lily rounded on Harry, he was glad he'd moved further away, "How did your name get in the goblet! You were only 14!"
"Your supposed to be too young to enter!" James added, he was furious too.
"Calm down!" Sirius yelled, "He didn't put it in himself!" he told them.
Harry nodded hurriedly, "I never. Someone else put it in but I can't tell you who yet." he explained sadly.
"Besides, we all know someone has it in for Harry and that Harry wouldn't want more fame." Ginny added going over to her fiancée and pulling him back over to the sofa where he'd been sitting before he moved.
"Ginny's right. Harry didn't want more fame." Ron nodded, "He had enough to deal with already."
Lily and James along with the other returnees, Frank and Alice still looked furious but were silent.
"I swear I never wanted it and you'll be able to tell I'm not lying with the next memory." Harry said as the memory started again.
Harry sat there, aware that every head in the Great Hall had turned to look at him. He was stunned. He felt numb. He was surely dreaming. He had not heard correctly.
"I wish." Lily and James mumbled at the same time.
There was no applause. A buzzing, as though of angry bees, was starting to fill the Hall; some students were standing up to get a better look at Harry as he sat, frozen, in his seat. Up at the top table, Professor McGonagall had got to her feet and swept past Ludo Bagman and Professor Karkaroff to whisper urgently to Professor Dumbledore, who bent his ear toward her, frowning slightly. Harry turned to Ron and Hermione; beyond them, he saw the long Gryffindor table all watching him, open mouthed.
"I didn't put my name in," Harry said blankly. "You know I didn't."
Both of them stared just as blankly back.
At the top table, Professor Dumbledore had straightened up, nodding to Professor McGonagall.
"Harry Potter!" he called again. "Harry! Up here, if you please!"
"He better tell Harry he can't compete." James muttered.
"The contract was binding. I was in it no matter what." Harry sighed.
"The contracts stated all champions must participate in all tasks. The only loophole is going into the arena, where ever it is, and forfeiting." Fleur explained, she looked at Harry, "You did read the terms of competing guide, didnt you?"
He shook his head, "I just went with what I was told I could and couldn't do by staff, or with what Hermione told me." he shrugged.
"I kept him on track." Hermione nodded, "I knew he wouldn't read through them, so I read them so I could tell him what he needed to know. He was too distracted to read them properly, he could barely do his homework."
"It's a distracting thing." he shrugged again.
"Go on," Hermione whispered, giving Harry a slight push.
Harry got to his feet, trod on the hem of his robes, and stumbled slightly.
He set off up the gap between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. It felt like an immensely long walk; the top table didn't seem to be getting any nearer at all, and he could feel hundreds and hundreds of eyes upon him, as though each were a searchlight. The buzzing grew louder and louder. After what seemed like an hour, he was right in front of Dumbledore, feeling the stares of all the teachers upon him.
"Well... through the door, Harry," said Dumbledore.
James and Lily had expressions on their faces that mingled anger and fear.
He wasn't smiling. Harry moved off along the teachers' table. Hagrid was seated right at the end. He did not wink at Harry, or wave, or give any of his usual signs of greeting. He looked completely astonished and stared at Harry as he passed like everyone else.
Harry went through the door out of the Great Hall and found himself in a smaller room, lined with paintings of witches and wizards. A handsome fire was roaring in the fireplace opposite him. The faces in the portraits turned to look at him as he entered. He saw a wizened witch flit out of the frame of her picture and into the one next to it, which contained a wizard with a walrus mustache. The wizened witch started whispering in his ear.
Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory, and Fleur Delacour were grouped around the fire. They looked strangely impressive, silhouetted against the flames. Krum, hunched up and brooding, was leaning against the mantelpiece, slightly apart from the other two. Cedric was standing with his hands behind his back, staring into the fire.
Fleur Delacour looked around when Harry walked in and threw back her sheet of long, silvery hair.
"What is it?" she said. "Do zey want us back in ze Hall?"
She thought he had come to deliver a message.
"Sadly, no." James sighed.
Harry didn't know how to explain what had just happened. He just stood there, looking at the three champions. It struck him how very tall all of them were.
There was a sound of scurrying feet behind him, and Ludo Bagman entered the room. He took Harry by the arm and led him forward.
"Extraordinary!" he muttered, squeezing Harry's arm. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen... lady," he added, approaching the fireside and addressing the other three. "May I introduce - incredible though it may seem - the fourth Triwizard champion?"
"They aren't going to be happy." George mumbled.
"We weren't." Fleur agreed.
Viktor Krum straightened up. His surly face darkened as he surveyed Harry. Cedric looked nonplussed. He looked from Bagman to Harry and back again as though sure he must have misheard what Bagman had said. Fleur Delacour, however, tossed her hair, smiling, and said, "Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman."
"Joke?" Bagman repeated, bewildered. "No, no, not at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"
Krum's thick eyebrows contracted slightly. Cedric was still looking politely bewildered. Fleur frowned.
"But evidently zair 'as been a mistake," she said contemptuously to Bagman. "'E cannot compete. 'E is too young."
"Exactly." Lily agreed.
"Well... it is amazing," said Bagman, rubbing his smooth chin and smiling down at Harry. "But, as you know, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as his name's come out of the goblet... I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage... It's down in the rules, you're obliged... Harry will just have to do the best he -"
The door behind them opened again, and a large group of people came in: Professor Dumbledore, followed closely by Mr. Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape. Harry heard the buzzing of the hundreds of students on the other side of the wall, before Professor McGonagall closed the door.
"Madame Maxime!" said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. "Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!"
Somewhere under Harry's numb disbelief he felt a ripple of anger. Little boy?
"Sorry 'Arry. That was a bit mean of me to say zat." Fleur apologised.
"It's fine Fleur. You were in shock." Harry shrugged, "And it helped me come back to myself a little, I was just as shocked as you were about the whole thing."
Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full, and considerable, height. The top of her handsome head brushed the candle-filled chandelier, and her gigantic black-satin bosom swelled.
"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" she said imperiously.
"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," said Professor Karkaroff. He was wearing a steely smile, and his blue eyes were like chips of ice. "Two Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions - or have I not read the rules carefully enough?"
He gave a short and nasty laugh.
"Of course, he thinks he's being cheated." Remus growled.
"C'est impossible," said Madame Maxime, whose enormous hand with its many superb opals was resting upon Fleur's shoulder. "Ogwarts cannot 'ave two champions. It is most injust."
"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, his steely smile still in place, though his eyes were colder than ever. "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."
"It's no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff," said Snape softly. His black eyes were alight with malice. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here -"
"Shut up, Uncle Sev." Draco groaned.
"Thank you, Severus," said Dumbledore firmly, and Snape went quiet, though his eyes still glinted malevolently through his curtain of greasy black hair.
Professor Dumbledore was now looking down at Harry, who looked right back at him, trying to discern the expression of the eyes behind the half-moon spectacles.
"Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" he asked calmly.
"No." James said.
"Is your name Harry?" Dora asked. "I know you look alike but I thought you were James?"
James glared at her while the others laughed, the tension in the room disapearing slightly.
"No," said Harry. He was very aware of everybody watching him closely. Snape made a soft noise of impatient disbelief in the shadows.
"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" said Professor Dumbledore, ignoring Snape.
"No," said Harry vehemently.
"Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" cried Madame Maxime. Snape was now shaking his head, his lip curling.
"He could not have crossed the Age Line," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "I am sure we are all agreed on that -"
"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line," said Madame Maxime, shrugging.
"It is possible, of course," said Dumbledore politely.
"He didn't make a mistake though." Remus said.
"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" said Professor McGonagall angrily. "Really, what nonsense! Harry could not have crossed the line himself, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that he did not persuade an older student to do it for him, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!"
She shot a very angry look at Professor Snape.
The Marauders and twins cheered Minerva on.
"Mr. Crouch... Mr. Bagman," said Karkaroff, his voice unctuous once more, "you are our - er - objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?"
Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief and looked at Mr. Crouch, who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half hidden in shadow. He looked slightly eerie, the half darkness making him look much older, giving him an almost skull-like appearance. When he spoke, however, it was in his usual curt voice.
"We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."
"Damnit, Crouch, can't you break the rules for once?" James growled.
Lily glared at him, "Language, James."
"He could but it'd be very bad for me." Harry frowned, "Because the contract was binding." he reminded them.
"You wouldn't have like what would've happened." Fleur told him, "Anyone who broke the binding on the contract had their magic stripped almost instantly by the goblet." she winced. "I read it in Madame Maxime's rule book for the tournament."
Everyone winced upon hearing this fact.
"Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front," said Bagman, beaming and turning back to Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, as though the matter was now closed.
"No." James growled.
"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," said Karkaroff. He had dropped his unctuous tone and his smile now. His face wore a very ugly look indeed. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore."
"But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that," said Bagman. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out - it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament -"
"- in which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!"
"We're better off without you!" Lily shouted.
exploded Karkaroff. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"
"Empty threat, Karkaroff," growled a voice from near the door. "You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"
Moody had just entered the room. He limped toward the fire, and with every right step he took, there was a loud clunk.
"Convenient?" said Karkaroff. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody." Harry could tell he was trying to sound disdainful, as though what Moody was saying was barely worth his notice, but his hands gave him away; they had balled themselves into fists.
"What's up with them?" Fred asked.
"Moody was the one who caught Karkaroff the first time around." Arthur explained.
"Don't you?" said Moody quietly. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's name in that goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out."
"He's accusing Karkaroff?" Sirius suggested.
"Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give 'Ogwarts two bites at ze apple!" said Madame Maxime.
"I quite agree, Madame Maxime," said Karkaroff, bowing to her. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards -"
"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter,"
"Exactly! Speak up Harry." Hermione urged.
growled Moody, "but... funny thing... I don't hear him saying a word..."
"Why should 'e complain?" burst out Fleur Delacour, stamping her foot. "E 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money - zis is a chance many would die for!"
"Maybe someone's hoping Potter is going to die for it," said Moody, with the merest trace of a growl.
"Moody sure is optimistic." Petunia said sarcastically.
"He was always like that." Dora told her, chuckling fondly.
An extremely tense silence followed these words. Ludo Bagman, who was looking very anxious indeed, bounced nervously up and down on his feet and said, "Moody, old man... what a thing to say!"
"We all know Professor Moody considers the morning wasted if he hasn't discovered six plots to murder him before lunchtime," said Karkaroff loudly. "Apparently he is now teaching his students to fear assassination too. An odd quality in a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Dumbledore, but no doubt you had your reasons."
"Imagining things, am I?" growled Moody. "Seeing things, eh? It was a skilled witch or wizard who put the boy's name in that goblet..."
"Ah, what evidence is zere of zat?" said Madame Maxime, throwing up her huge hands.
"Because they hoodwinked a very powerful magical object!" said Moody. "It would have needed an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to bamboozle that goblet into forgetting that only three schools compete in the tournament... I'm guessing they submitted Potter's name under a fourth school, to make sure he was the only one in his category..."
"You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Moody," said Karkaroff coldly, "and a very ingenious theory it is - though of course, I heard you recently got it into your head that one of your birthday presents contained a cunningly disguised basilisk egg, and smashed it to pieces before realizing it was a carriage clock. So you'll understand if we don't take you entirely seriously..."
"There are those who'll turn innocent occasions to their advantage," Moody retorted in a menacing voice. "It's my job to think the way Dark wizards do, Karkaroff - as you ought to remember..."
"Alastor!" said Dumbledore warningly. Harry wondered for a moment whom he was speaking to, but then realized "Mad-Eye" could hardly be Moody's real first name.
Almost everyone laughed, Lily and James simply smiled, too stressed by the memory to do more.
Moody fell silent, though still surveying Karkaroff with satisfaction - Karkaroff's face was burning.
"How this situation arose, we do not know," said Dumbledore, speaking to everyone gathered in the room. "It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Cedric and Harry have been chosen to compete in the Tournament. This, therefore, they will do..."
"Dumbledore." James whined pathetically.
"Ah, but Dumbly-dorr -"
"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, I would be delighted to hear it."
Dumbledore waited, but Madame Maxime did not speak, she merely glared. She wasn't the only one either.
Snape looked furious; Karkaroff livid; Bagman, however, looked rather excited.
"I think he's taken to many bludgers to the head." James muttered.
"Probably." Harry agreed, looking amused.
"Well, shall we crack on, then?" he said, rubbing his hands together and smiling around the room. "Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honors?"
Mr. Crouch seemed to come out of a deep reverie.
"Yes," he said, "instructions. Yes... the first task..."
He moved forward into the firelight. Close up, Harry thought he looked ill. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and a thin, papery look about his wrinkled skin that had not been there at the Quidditch World Cup.
"The first task is designed to test your daring," he told Harry, Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor, "so we are not going to be telling you what it is."
James groaned.
"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."
Mr. Crouch turned to look at Dumbledore.
"I think that's all, is it, Albus?"
"I think so," said Dumbledore, who was looking at Mr. Crouch with mild concern. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty?"
"No, Dumbledore, I must get back to the Ministry," said Mr. Crouch. "It is a very busy, very difficult time at the moment... I've left young Weatherby in charge"
Everyone laughed.
"Did he ever get your name right?" Bill asked Percy.
"Nope. Not at all." he muttered.
"... Very enthusiastic... a little overenthusiastic, if truth be told..."
"You'll come and have a drink before you go, at least?" said Dumbledore.
"Come on, Barty, I'm staying!" said Bagman brightly. "It's all happening at Hogwarts now, you know, much more exciting here than at the office!"
"I think not, Ludo," said Crouch with a touch of his old impatience.
"Professor Karkaroff - Madame Maxime - a nightcap?" said Dumbledore.
But Madame Maxime had already put her arm around Fleur's shoulders and was leading her swiftly out of the room. Harry could hear them both talking very fast in French as they went off into the Great Hall. Karkaroff beckoned to Krum, and they, too, exited, though in silence.
"Harry, Cedric, I suggest you go up to bed," said Dumbledore, smiling at both of them. "I am sure Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise."
"Not really. Hufflepuff celebrated with Cedric. Gryffindor's... Well they celebrated but I wasn't interested." Harry sighed.
Harry glanced at Cedric, who nodded, and they left together.
The Great Hall was deserted now; the candles had burned low, giving the jagged smiles of the pumpkins an eerie, flickering quality.
"So," said Cedric, with a slight smile. "We're playing against each other again!"
"I s'pose," said Harry. He really couldn't think of anything to say. The inside of his head seemed to be in complete disarray, as though his brain had been ransacked.
"So… tell me…" said Cedric as they reached the entrance hall, which was now lit only by torches in the absence of the Goblet of Fire. "How did you get your name in?"
"I didn't," said Harry, staring up at him. "I didn't put it in. I was telling the truth."
"Ah... okay," said Cedric. Harry could tell Cedric didn't believe him.
"Well... see you, then."
Instead of going up the marble staircase, Cedric headed for a door to its right. Harry stood listening to him going down the stone steps beyond it, then, slowly, he started to climb the marble ones.
Was anyone except Ron and Hermione going to believe him, or would they all think he'd put himself in for the tournament?
Ron gave Harry an apologetic look.
Yet how could anyone think that, when he was facing competitors who'd had three years' more magical education than he had - when he was now facing tasks that not only sounded very dangerous, but which were to be performed in front of hundreds of people? Yes, he'd thought about it... he'd fantasized about it... but it had been a joke, really, an idle sort of dream... he'd never really, seriously considered entering...
But someone else had considered it... someone else had wanted him in the tournament, and had made sure he was entered. Why? To give him a treat? He didn't think so, somehow... To see him make a fool of himself? Well, they were likely to get their wish... But to get him killed? Was Moody just being his usual paranoid self?
"We're not going to cover anything else tonight. It's already 10.30pm." Harry explained. "We'll continue at 10am tomorrow."
Everyone nodded and people headed home and up to bed for the night.