The day of the Champion's selection had finally arrived.
The night prior, Dumbledore had explained and unveiled the Goblet of Fire - the magical artifact that would be "judging" who would be chosen as Champion. One Champion for each school. He'd placed an age line around it personally, and they had had Aurors stationed around the Great Hall to watch over it at all times. He had also mentioned a thousand galleon prize for the victor, the Champion with the most points and the last one standing.
The foreign students had also arrived the night prior, in a real air of tension and unease; it was the same tension and unease that had permeated the castle since Voldemort's attack. The Headmistress of Beauxbatons had had a very loud conversation with Dumbledore in the Great Hall about "his ability to keep her students safe here." And the current Headmistress of Durmstrang - Karine Ivanov - wasn't much better about it, citing her predecessor's (Igor Karkaroff) recent abandonment of his position and refusal to go anywhere near Hogwarts.
Dumbledore had suggested that their delegations need not remain in Britain - that they could set up a way to have the foreign students view the Tournament and their Champions from afar - and had offered what other assurances he could. It seemed to have been enough, because both Headmistresses eventually did agree to remain at Hogwarts with their students. Albeit, still, so very reluctantly and warily.
Harry had briefly fantasized, the night before, about entering the Tournament. About winning it - like he had won a lot of his Dueling Club matchups the past two weeks! He had confided these fantasies to his mother, and while she had told him that it was fine to fantasize, she had also given him the sternest of warnings to not even try and act on them (and a loving assurance that she was proud enough of his classroom marks, and his dueling victories, that he "didn't have to try to impress her more than that").
So Harry had accepted her warning, and reassured her that he really wouldn't do it. He doubted he could get past Dumbledore's age line, anyway - that anyone could!
When it was time, Harry went to the Halloween feast. A feast every bit as extravagant as ever - yet one he wasn't paying as much attention to as ever. Like everyone else, he was impatient and eager to see the Goblet choose its Champions! It seemed an eternity before their plates vanished, and Dumbledore got to his feet from the High Table.
Silence fell on the Great Hall immediately, and necks craned to look.
"The Goblet of Fire is almost ready to make its decision," Dumbledore began. "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-" Dumbledore indicated the door behind the High Table. "-where they will be receiving their first instructions."
He gave his wand a great sweeping wave, dimming the candles in the Great Hall, plunging it into near total darkness, save for the pumpkins and the Goblet itself. The students all waited, watching those blue-white flames flickering in anticipation...
Suddenly, the Goblet's fires turned scarlet. Sparks began to fly, and a piece of charred parchment fluttered out of it.
Dumbledore caught it, holding it up to read by the flame's light, which had gone back to blue. "The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a clear, strong voice, "will be Victor Krum!"
A storm of cheering and applause went through the Great Hall, as the chosen student rose from the Slytherin table and walked behind the staff table, to disappear into the Trophy Room.
Everyone's attention returned to the Goblet, and silence reigned again.
Waiting again.
Within seconds, the Goblet turned red, and spat out another piece of paper.
"The Champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore. "is Fleur Delacour!"
A girl with silvery blonde hair rose from the Ravenclaw table, to disappear into the Trophy Room after Krum.
It was finally time to see who the Hogwarts Champion would be...
The Goblet turned red, and Dumbledore read from the third parchment to emerge.
"The Hogwarts Champion..." he called, "is Cedric Diggory!"
Harry's table erupted, and he with it, joining in the celebration! The handsome Cedric Diggory rose from their table, grinning as he made his way up to the staff table to disappear through the door!
The applause went on for some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again.
"Excellent!" Dumbledore called, as at last the tumult died down. "We now have our three champions! I am sure I can count upon all of you 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 stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him.
The Goblet of Fire was reacting again; blue flames turned red, a long flame shot up from it, and a burning piece of parchment was spat out again.
Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out to seize the parchment. He held it out and simply stared at it. There was a long pause, in which he continued to stare, and in which the students continued staring at him. Then, he cleared his throat and he spoke the name-
"Harry Potter?"
Harry felt like a Bludger had hit him in the face. He felt cold. He felt numb. Everyone was looking at him, and there was no applause: just an angry buzzing noise, growing and mounting...furious whispers...
He glanced to his side, finding Evelyn looking just as shocked as he was. She raised her head to look him in the eye, emotions crossing her face - that surprise, worry, alarm...
Harry looked away from her, and instead sought out his mother - sitting there up at the staff table. Her face was pale and tight, and she had her hands flat on the table's edge, grasping at it firmly. She looked right back at him, and then pushed herself to her feet.
"I didn't put my name in," Harry said loudly, holding her gaze and standing too. "I didn't! I swear!"
If there was ever a time when he wanted his mother to legilimize him, it was now; he was fortunate that he couldn't have shielded his mind if he wanted to, right then! He had no desire to at all.
Her face changed, softening, and she gave a nod as she strode around the table. She stopped next to Dumbledore, meeting the Headmaster's gaze, now. "He is not going to be put through this," she said, in a voice of steely calm that Harry knew from experience meant she was on verge of losing her composure completely. "He's fourteen, and-"
"This is a discussion to be had elsewhere," Dumbledore interrupted her, in a very calm voice of his own. He looked to Harry, beckoning. "Come, Harry, if you please."
Harry slowly walked up the length of the Great Hall, feeling every eye on him, and trying to ignore it.
He walked up to the Headmaster and his mother, his ears pounding and his vision swimming.
Dumbledore gazed at the staff table. "Madam Maxime - Ms. Ivanov - Barty, Mr. Bagman, if you could go in and proceed as planned with the champions...I will need to sort this situation out with young Harry and Professor Siahaan. We will be up in my offices."
"Please explain to me...how this is possible."
Harry found himself seated in the Headmaster's office, gazing across the desk at the old wizard. His mother was standing right behind his chair, grasping its back in her hands and hovering over him incredibly protectively, as if afraid something was going to leap into the high tower's room and drag Harry away from her.
She was a lot calmer than she had been down in the Great Hall - and so was Harry, by proxy and virtue of seeing her calming down. He was sure she would sort this all out, her and Dumbledore. She always did. She had to...
"I fully believe that you did not enter your name into the Goblet," Dumbledore spoke to Harry gently. His gaze flickered up to Nagini. "But then, we must ask ourselves: who was it that did, if not Harry?"
"An older student?" Harry said hopefully. "Someone playing a prank on me? Or...do you think it was...?"
His mother's hand slid down from chair's back to grasp his shoulder. She squeezed him, stroked and caressed. "If it was Voldemort, or someone working for him - willingly or not - then...no, that wouldn't make sense now," she muttered.
"Why wouldn't that make sense?" Harry asked, twisting to look up at her.
Nagini's expression changed - she froze. Her eyes fluttered, and then she drew a breath and let it go. Shook her head. "It doesn't matter right now. What matters is how we're going to get you out of this tournament."
"I doubt that we can, regrettably," Dumbledore sighed. "The Goblet is a powerful, ancient artifact, and it constitutes a binding magical contract. Any whose name emerges are bound to participate."
"What are the consequences of refusing?" Nagini said tightly. "Are we dealing with something like the Unbreakable Vow, or a Blood Pact...?"
"Compulsion, at first," Dumbledore began carefully. "Then, infliction of...negative effects to compel one's participation in hopes of ending it."
"You mean pain - torment," Nagini hissed. "It's going to hurt him, to make him do these tasks."
"It will certainly try," Dumbledore replied, controlled. "But as long as he does his best, nothing will happen to him."
"Except pain and possibly death during the tournament itself!" Nagini rattled off, her voice rising. "However this happened, we can reverse it. We'll - Confund the Goblet, or destroy it-"
"To destroy an ancient artifact with such history, and forevermore, simply to-"
"Simply to-" Harry's mother was losing herself again, to panic and fear. Tangible things in her voice now.
"Please don't misunderstand me," Dumbledore spoke firmly, raising a hand. "I only mean that such drastic and irreversible action would cause an uproar in the world, with the Ministry, and the current Headmistresses and their champions."
A pause. A harsh breath from Nagini. That hand squeezed at Harry's shoulder. "And you think that I care? My son's life, versus the ability of a few other children to play this dangerous old game? The public can be as upset as they want to be, the Ministry can fine and harass me for historic artifact destruction for the rest of my life - at least Harry will be safe from this! If you can't come up with a way to cancel this contract before the First Task starts, you're going to help me destroy that Goblet! But Harry is not going to participate in any of this. I don't care what I have to do to make that happen. His life and safety takes precedence over anything else in this world."
"Rest assured, I will be doing all that I can to do just that," Dumbledore said calmly. "As I have been doing all I can in...other areas that we have discussed before. But we need not take such drastic action just yet. Truthfully, I am uncertain of anyone's ability to destroy the Goblet, not merely because of its' ancient protections, but because the Goblet itself will surely try to protect itself."
"You found a way to destroy a Blood Pact: you can find a way to destroy this Goblet," Nagini stated firmly.
"Perhaps," Dumbledore nodded. "If it comes to it, I will do all I can, you have my word. In the meantime, I feel it prudent to make plans to prepare Harry for this tournament should our every effort fail," he added delicately. "It's only sensible, wouldn't you say?"
"Yes," Nagini said tightly. "On that front: tell us what's to come in this tournament - every task, every aspect of it."
Harry sat there, numbly, as Dumbledore spoke of dragons, the depths of the Black Lake, and a deadly monster-filled maze.
All his fantasies were now just...gone.
In their place were nightmares of imaginings - all that could go so terribly wrong.
The first task was to take place on the twenty-fourth of November.
Harry told himself - as his mother told him repeatedly - that they had plenty of time to avoid this whole thing. Get out of it completely.
It wouldn't come to it.
He wouldn't have to actually go through with it...
His mother and the Headmaster could fix this.
Couldn't they?