Chapter 24: THE GOBLET OF FIRE
"Oh, whatever," said Dean Thomas next to them. "I want to know what's going on besides the stupid tournament! This year is going to be cool!"
"Tell me about it," said Ron, grinning and rubbing his hands together as they headed up the grounds and into the castle to sit down in the Great Hall.
The dragon made of light ominously followed Harry into the castle and, with a wave of the staff at it, starting from the tail, the light died out until it was gone entirely.
Harry, Ron and Hermione took their usual seats at the Gryffindor table, looking all around as the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students filed into the vast Great Hall. It looked a lot more crowded even though there were only far under thirty additional students. Perhaps this was because their uniforms were a stark contrast to the black of the Hogwarts robes. As they all sidled in, when the first Durmstrang student removed their furs, Harry saw that their robes were of a deep bloodred as they were last time.
"Dumbledore ought to consider getting a new color for Hogwarts, robes, eh?" said Raides, still as the staff.
Harry didn't want to startle any of them... any more than they already were... Very quickly however, Dumbledore walked over to them.
"Harry, please put Raides in my care as I do not want to startle our guests and it seems they so very will be," he said calmly. "I daresay it's not every day you see something such as her and I myself was quite startled when I first saw her transform."
Harry, Ron, Hermione and Raides all grinned broadly.
"All right. You go with him then, and you listen to him, too," said Harry, looking at Raides sharply.
Raides rolled her yellow eyes and went back to smiling as Dumbledore grabbed hold of her and walked up to the staff table.
As one Beauxbatons girl swept into the Great Hall, several boys' heads turned to gaze fixedly at her.
Hermione folded her arms and gave a cough that sounded a lot like "veela." Harry knew veela to be something like a regular human female except that they had an interesting ability of making males swoon over them.
"Is that Professor Delacour's younger sister?" he asked, shaking Ron's shoulder to get him to stop staring.
"Honestly," Hermione muttered as Harry did this, and when Ron was back to his usual self, she said, "What was her name? Gabrielle? But she was young, Professor Fleur Delacour must have another sister or something."
"They do look similar," said Harry.
"But she's definitely a veela," said Ron, pointing out all of the other boys who were staring at her as she passed, but then, to Ron's horror, the girl spotted him.
"Hide me," Ron said, suddenly sounding very scared, turning around and also suddenly becoming very stiff. Both of his hands were on the edge of the table and grasping it as if he ever let go, he would fall and die.
The girl motioned for her fellow Beauxbatons classmates to follow her -- right over to the Gryffindor table. The girl herself sat across from Ron and her smile seemed to unstiffen him ever so slightly.
"Hello!" she said, her silvery hair flowing gallantly behind her as she pushed it from in front of her shoulders to behind them. "My name is Adrianne, ze sister of Professor Delacour?" she went on kindly.
She closely resembled her older sister, both of them having very straight, almost perfectly white teeth, large, deep blues eyes and a sheet of long silvery-blonde hair. Her hair, unlike her sister's, only went down to the middle of her back and not her waist.
"Hello," said Ron weakly ("Honestly," said Hermione).
"My sister has told me a lot about you," said Adrianne, "and you, 'Arry, is it?" she added, turning to him.
"Yes," said Harry, grinning, and then grinning at the side of Ron's head.
"Is there something wrong wiz 'im?" asked Adrianne, looking curiously at Ron who's arm was hidden under the table and twitching convulsively.
"No," Hermione said at once, "but it's just that he turns to sludge when a girl talks to him. I'm not a girl, so I don't count," she said loftily, referring to the time around the Yule Ball during the last Triwizard Tournament.
After many failed attempts with other girls, Ron had finally asked Hermione to go to the Yule Ball with him. She refused after Ron said that he would take any girl as long as they looked good even if they were horrible as a person. In reality, Hermione had already been asked by Viktor Krum and didn't want to tell Ron. Harry now even more strongly suspected that Ron and Hermione liked one another but were too far embarassed to admit it to one another...
Just then, Madam Maxime entered the Great Hall and all of the Beauxbatons (who were all sitting at the Gryffindor table) stood up. A few Hogwarts students, even those who had seen them do this last time, stifled laughs. Adrianne stood up at once and none of them sat down until Madam Maxime sat down at Dumbledore's side. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, had added several chairs up at the staff table. Harry looked up at saw Ludo Bagman up at the staff table as well as Percy Weasley.
"Percy's here?" Ron asked Harry.
"Of course," said Ron stiffly.
Hermione tutted and then said, "He's judging, isn't he? Mr. Fudge hired him to take Barty Crouch's place ever since..."
Now Dumbledore stood up and a silence fell over the Great Hall. Harry couldn't make out any sign of Raides.
"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and -- most importantly -- guests," said Dumbledore, positively beaming around at the foreign students. "I have great pleasure in welcoming each and every one of you to Hogwarts and I hope that your stay in our humble abode will be as enjoyable as it is comfortable."
Harry -- and Hermione, he was sure -- remembered it was at this point that Fleur Delacour, when she had been sitting among the students, let out a derisive laugh at this comment from Dumbledore. Just to be sure, he looked up at her sitting at the staff table next to Professor Sprout. Her attention was rapt among all of the new students.
"The Triwizard Tournament will officially be open at the end of the feast," said Dumbledore. "For now, I invite you all to enjoy our wondrous feast and make yourselves at home! I do have some words before we leave that I must attend to," he said, gazing in particular at Harry, who blinked then swallowed, turning to his plate which had just filled with food.
"And, dear God, what is that," said Ron, staring at a strange dish that consisted of, well, Harry didn't really know what that was.
"Mousse de Foies de Volaille," said Hermione.
"I'm not even going to try to repeat what you just said," Ron told her, taking a slice of ham and some mashed potatoes.
"I saw it in a book once," said Hermione as Adrianne and one of her friends began talking in quick french and snatched up the Mousse de Foies de Volaille.
There was silence for a moment, and then --
"So how do you suppose Durmstrang and company was able to get that new shape-changing ship?" Ron asked.
"I have heard bad zings about zat Durmstrang Academy," said Adrianne. "Is it true zat their 'eadmaster is a former, what is it, Death Eater?"
Harry, Ron and Hermione stared at one another.
"Yes," said Harry, "he was."
"He was so biased towards 'is own students, zat man..." said one of Adrianne's friends. "I never liked him vairy much."
"Me either," said Ron quickly which made Hermione roll her eyes.
When the deserts arrived, there were many things that were quite unfamiliar as well. Harry prodded something white and fluffy with his finger, licked it, made a face of disgust and then watched as Adrianne and her lot ate it, commenting on how very good it was here at Hogwarts.
Once the golden plates had been clean ("Zis food is very good," said another girl from Beauxbatons, nodding to Adrianne), Dumbledore got to his feet and a wave of silence swept over the Great Hall.
"The Triwizard Tournament is about to start and before we begin, I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket," he said, "just to clarify the procedure that we will follow this year. Due to last time's -- er -- success, the rules will be much the same. But first, let me introduce Mr. Percy Weasley, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation."
Percy stood up, his chest swelling with pride and Ron keen on avoiding his eyes. The entire Great Hall clapped, but it wasn't exactly flattering applause.
"He's been bragging about it all summer," said Ron bitterly.
"And Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."
There was tumultuous applause for Bagman, partly due to his fame as a Beater or quite simply that he didn't look so narrow-minded and strict in his robes of festive orange and black; they wouldn't have looked out of place at a Muggle Halloween party. Bagman stood up and waved jovially. Percy had done the same but it was in a stiff sort of manner, like he wanted to do it, but thought it would be too unprofessional if he was too into it.
"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Weasley -- whose younger brother, mind you, is considering entering --" Dumbledore said, which made Ron turn so red his face matched the color of his flaming red hair, "have worked tirelessly over the summer and months beforehand on the arrangements and monstrous preparations for the tournament. They will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff and Madam Maxime on the panel judging the champions' efforts."
There was a marked improvement in the attention of students third year and under at the word "champions." Even some of the older students, who had evidently forgotten, were listening more attentively. Dumbledore noticed this, smiled, and said, "The casket, then, Mr. Filch, if you will."
Filch, who was standing behind something furry, golden and scarlet, walked into greater prominence, carrying a big wooden, jewel-encrusted chest looking so old, it would give Raides a run for her money. A wave of murmurs broke out over the hall and several smaller students tried to stand on their seats to get a better look.
"Instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined and approved by Mr. Bagman and Mr. Weasley," said Dumbledore as Filch placed the old chest on the table in front of Dumbledore, "and the necessary arrangements for each challenge have been made. There will be three tasks spaced evenly througout the school year, all designed to test the champions in different ways. Their magical prowess, their daring, their power of mind and, above all, their ability to rise to a challenge in the face of danger."
While the majority of students had already been through this speech once before, there was a silence in the Great Hall such that even the air itself had stopped to listen.
"As is known, there will be three champions in the tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the three participating schools, Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. Each of the champions will be given marks on how well they perform each of the tasks of the tournament. At the very end, the champion with the highest total score will win the Triwizard Cup. Champions for each school will be selected by an impartial judge: the Goblet of Fire."
Dumbledore pulled out his wand from inside his robes and tapped the ancient jewel-encrusted chest three times. The lid creaked open slowly and Dumbledore reached inside it, pulling out a large, old wooden cup. It looked like any other wooden cup, entirely boring save for the blue-white flames inside of it, full to the tip.
Dumbledore closed the casket, placing the goblet carefully on top of it, visibile to everyone in the Hall.
"Anybody wishing the submit themselves as a candidate for champion of their school must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it in the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Wishful champions have twenty-four hours to put their names forward and I do beg you all not to enter your friends' for them. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will have chosen names and return three, one from each school, of which it has judged most worthy and up to the task of being champion. The goblet itself will be placed in the entrance hall tonight where it will be accessibe to everyone.
"To assure that no underage student shall enter their name, there will be an Age Line drawn around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line -- without incident," he said, smiling. "Do note that for anyone wishing to enter, this tournament is not to be taken lightly. Once you have been selected, you are obliged to see the tournament to it's end. Placing your name in the goblet secures a binding contract and there can be no change of heart once you have been selected. Therefore, before submitting yourself, be very sure that you are well up to the task.
"Now before we go, I have two more announcements to make," Dumbledore continued calmly as an almighty uproar broke out over the Great Hall. This was it, Dumbledore was finally going to tell what was going on besides the tournament itself. The next sentence he spoke was loud so as to drown out the roar of voices. "Firstly, one of our number is here as a safety precaution against none other than Lord Voldemort," said Dumbledore which put a quick stop to the roar of excited voices. "As many of you know, a recent discovery of some students at Hogwarts led to the finding of the ancient and long thought-to-be mythological Staff of Cybele."
Several of the foreign students let out derisive laughs, including Adrianne. It was obvious they didn't believe a word of it. Harry simply continued grinning.
"Raides, if you will?" called Dumbledore.
There was a pause... in which there was no sign of Raides. Several more of the foreign students laughed.
"You better call her, Harry, because she's not listening to Dumbledore anymore," said Ron.
Harry rolled his eyes, stood up, looking at the staff table and called out, "Raides, come."
It was that voice that Raides listened to, and, causing several of the foreign students to gasp in fear, Raides crawled out from behind Dumbledore, making her way to Harry. Raides, all the way from the staff table, pushed her powerful legs against the floor and leapt high into the air (causing more gasps), higher than usual, and landed perfectly on Harry's outstretched hand as the staff. He twirled it in the air once, and then put her down as she transformed into a lion again. All the while, Ron had been overcome by a strong fit of giggles at the look on Adrianne's face. Her mouth was so wide open you could fit a plate full of Mousse de Foies de Volaille in it.
"As you will note," Dumbledore continued calmly, taking his seat, "she does not even listen to me. Raides is nothing to fear, however and is quite a friendly lion once you get to know her," he chuckled. "She listens only to Mr. Potter and you will frequently find the two of them walking around the castle together. Raides is naturally a staff but, as you see, can transform into a lion at will. I will perfectly understand if many of you are uncomfortable around her presence but I trust you will eventually become as comfortable as the rest of us."
This wasn't entirely true as some students still skirted her in the corridors.
"Finally, I'm willing to bet the lot of you would eat a dragon if that was what it would take for me to tell you what else Hogwarts is hosting this year," said Dumbledore. "Some of you may or may not know about a famous wizarding school in another country, the United States of America. Deep underground in the city of Manhattan in the state of New York, lies Paladin Laurence Patrick Hayden's Manhattan School of Wizardy."
"I've heard of that!" Hermione whispered to Harry's and Ron's lit up faces.
"Mr. Hayden's prestigious school has turned out many fine Paladins of our age. One of our very own, one Lily Evans Potter," Dumbledore continued with a furtive glance at Harry, "was due to attend their graduate program. Hogwarts' own Paladism class was designed in part with one of the head professors at the school.
"As part of our ongoing efforts to promote international magical cooperation, Hogwarts will be sponsoring a stay in and around Manhattan and possibly, if we can, in the most magnificent dormitories of the school itself. Mr. Hayden's school covers a square mile under the city of Manhattan and is just as beautiful -- if not more so -- as the city itself," explained Dumbledore. "It is not yet determined how long and around when the trip will be happening but there is a required fee of twenty galleons, which pays for the residential fees, food, transportation and a tour of the school. We do know it may happen around Christmas or it may take place after the second task, giving all of you a week or two off of your studies. When more information concerning the matter is available, I will inform everyone during dinner that night. And now, it think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."
"Wow," said a voice behind Harry belonging to Seamus Finnigan as everyone stood up. "The Manhattan School of Wizardry, my gran's talked a lot about it. My great, great grandfather went there. He said that the dormitories alone in the school can fit the whole of Hogwarts in them!"
"That -- is -- big," said Ron.
"I think big is an understatement," Seamus went on. "It covers a square mile under the city. There's a dueling wing which is attached to a famous hospital, used by the wizarding community there even if they don't go to the school (and it's run by graduate students), a weapons training wing, many classroom wings. And that's all just for the graduate buildings. They use a permanent Gate -- despite the fact that most people don't like them -- to travel across the campus, across the Fire Quidditch field which doubles as a regular Quidditch field, to the undergraduate building -- and I heard they let a vampire student in this year --"
"Okay, I get the idea," said Ron.
"The entrance hall is made of glass and being underground, you'd think the scenery is horrible but it's nothing of the sort. There's so much room, they might even let our parents come for free at some point. You mark my words --"
Seamus went on and on (he mentioned something about them letting in anyone, even part humans) as everyone walked over to the doors of the Hall, Raides now trotting ahead of Harry. When Karkaroff finally saw her up close, he practically ran past her, afraid he was going to get bitten or something. Harry was at least happy that, this year, no one was stopping to stare at the scar on his forehead.
"I wonder how we're going to get there?" said Hermione. "I mean, it's a bit far to Disapparate and I haven't seen any mass means of transportation for us like Durmstrang's ship and the carriage from Beauxbatons."
"Whatever it is," said Harry, grinning, "it's going to be interesting to see, I'm sure."
Friday, when everyone usually rose early enough only to get up for classes, Harry, Ron and Hermione weren't the only ones getting up extra early just to stand around the entrance hall and wait to see if anyone went to put their name in the Goblet of Fire. It was in the center of the entrance hall, a ten foot in diameter yellow Age Line drawn around it, sitting on the stool usually sat upon by the Sorting Hat.
"So who thinks Malfoy isn't going to?" asked Ron, standing by the doors of the Great Hall, his arms folded and peering curiously around.
"I wouldn't, Weasley, but you might wanna," sneered a voice coming up from the dungeons. "Father says the tasks this year are a bit more dangerous. Maybe if you get yourself killed, your family could finally afford a new set of robes for your little sister!"
"Hello, Malfoy," said Harry coolly, making himself seen from the wall next to the dungeons staircase. He budged up against Raides and Malfoy walked quickly into the Great Hall.
"Little prat," said Ron bitterly. "He's going to get his, you wait."
"Watch him go running to his daddy now that he's afraid of me," Harry chuckled.
"Who cares about him, has anyone put their name in yet?" asked Hermione anxiously.
"The Durmstrang lot and I just saw Susan Bones from Hufflepuff drop her name in!" said Hannah Abbot, a Hufflepuff seventh year. "Some Ravenclaw girl, Lisa Turpin, put her name in, too, and rumor has it Millicent Bulstrode from Slytherin put her name in in the middle of the night."
"I'll eat Pig if Bulstrode gets in," said Ron.
"I'll eat Raides," said Harry, fully agreeing.
Fifteen minutes had passed and along came Justin Finch-Fletchley, a Hufflepuff seventh year who Harry got along with fairly well in Herbology classes. He was carrying a small slip of parchment and looking very smug.
"Harry!" said Justin once he'd spotted him. "Going to enter your name, too? Or have you already?"
Harry didn't say anything. Justin hastily dropped the slip of parchment into the goblet and then they were all joined by James Griffith, Craig Stone and Ginny. Craig immediately asked who from Hogwarts had put their name in. Hermione ticked them off one by one off her fingers.
"Bulstrode?" asked James in disgust. "You mean the fat one that resembles Harry's cousin, Dudley, with some extra padding and looking twice as ugly?" Harry and Ron quickly turned their laughs into hacking coughs. "Not to mention I see him hanging around the Slytherins. Seems particularly keen on following Malfoy around --" he was saying while looking pointedly at Harry.
"I'm not worried about him," he told James, shaking his head slowly.
"His main weapon is Malfoy and if you haven't noticed, Malfoy's deathly afraid of Harry now," Ron explained, finishing with a snigger while Harry gave Raides a meaningful pat on the head.
"So, going to enter your name, Harr-"
"No," said Harry shortly, feeling generally annoyed and, abandoning his post hastily, turned into the Great Hall.
When he was out of earshot, James asked Hermione and Ron, "Why's he so testy about it?"
"He's not acting all himself lately," said Ron, watching Harry go.
"As if that wasn't obvious. He's been acting a little odd since, well, the beginning of the year?"
"Yeah, I'd say that'd be about right..."
"D'you think maybe... it's just because of Cho? I mean, he gets very sensitive talking about her in front of anyone," said Hermione slowly.
"We weren't just talking about Cho now, were we?" said Ginny testily, shaking her head.
"Who knows, but something's definitely up and I sure wouldn't bring the subject up to him," said James.
They all looked at each other and then at Harry as he sat down, Raides at his side. James and Ginny followed Craig, Ron and Hermione into the Great Hall, taking seats near Harry and Neville.
"You didn't enter, did you, Neville?" Ginny asked.
"My gran says I'm in enough danger in Potions classes!" Neville bursted out, "and I don't need any more trouble by going into the Triwizard Tournament."
"And you really think your name will come out if you enter it?" said the distinct voice of Dudley from behind Harry.
"Since when did you start taking up Malfoy's job?" said Harry hotly, not turning around. While mean to say aloud, everyone thought Dudley had a point. "Go away."
"He's walking back to Malfoy now," said Ginny, staring at Dudley as he left. "What's up with him? Why doesn't he hang around Gryffindors?"
"I can't believe him. Dudley's a Mudblood and -- sorry," said Harry quickly, watching Hermione wince at the word "Mudblood." Harry knew it to be the most foul thing to call someone born of Muggle parents but it had simply slipped his tongue.
"Please, Harry," said Hermione, who could be referred to as one, "it's bad enough with Malfoy blabbing it all over the place. Don't you go saying it, too."
"Well, Dudley's Muggle-born and you know how much the Malfoy family loves Muggle-borns," said Harry sarcastically, his anger rising ever so slightly. "That's the only reason he even acknowledges Dudley's existence, because he's the only person that can possibly hate me as much as he does." Harry didn't see Ron and Hermione exchanged nervous glances. "I'd like to just -- just be able to possess someone so I could do it to Dudley and hit Malfoy -- then run away."
He had almost said that he could possess someone but quickly remembered how much of an uproar that might cause.
"Please, Harry," said Hermione slowly and very seriously, and Harry completely missed the quizzical faces of Craig, James and Ginny gave when Ron looked positively horrified for a split second, "don't joke about things like possession."
"Don't even say you can," said Neville, helping himself to some porridge which had just appeared in front of him. "My gran doesn't want me being friends with anyone who can -- who has that ability..."
Hermione looked at Harry gravely but his spirit did not sink. Deep down, he really wanted to get back at either Dudley or Malfoy... and possession looked like the way to do it from where he was standing. He glanced at all the worried faces looking at him and helped himself to a doughnut and some orange juice.
"What?" he said impatiently.
Hermione cleared her throat loudly, blinked, looked down at her toast and she, Ron, Craig, James and Ginny stopped looking at Harry.
For History of Magic that morning, Professor Binns did nothing but further Harry's annoyance, going on and on in class about Dark wizards and how they'd abused possession through the ages. This seemed to be a hot topic because in lunch after Defense Against the Dark Arts (where still more people asked Harry, especially Dennis Creevey, if he had entered), Professor Delacour had everyone read up on how to tell if you're being possessed, ways of fighting it off (which was nearly impossible) and ways to prevent it in the first place.
But that was only the first half of class; during the second half, everyone was allowed to talk about the Triwizard Tournament and Professor Delacour herself asked if Harry would be entering.
"I hear all the Slytherins are going to enter their names in the goblet," she had said.
"Well that's nice," said Harry, "now would everyone stop asking me about it?"
It wasn't until after Paladism was over did things get nasty. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Raides were crossing the entrance hall five minutes early. Dumbledore dismissed them as he saw no point in keeping them waiting for dinner when they weren't paying attention how to force a possessor out of a body anyway.
"All the Slytherins did enter their names!" cried Justin Finch-Fletchley, coming out of a Care of Magical Creatures class. "That's just great. One of them is going to get their name spit out, I know it."
Hermione started to look worried, sharing the same sentiments as Justin. Ron had been doing this all along and, during Paladism, he wrote Ron Weasley -- Hogwarts on a slip of parchment.
"Oh, no," said Harry instantly. "No, no, no. Go on, Ron. Drop it in, already."
Ron bit his lip, walked over the Age Line drawn around the goblet, put his hand over the dancing blue-white flames and dropped the slip over the top. It was engulfed within seconds and disappeared, the fire shooting up and turning red for a brief moment afterwards.
"Isn't someone going to get burned by touching that thing?" Ron squeaked, watching as Pansy Parkinson dropped her name in and nearly got her hand burned.
"It's probably just bewitched fire so even if you do touch it, you won't get burned," said Hermione.
"I'll take your word for it."
"So the Gryffindors' most famous, most respected member is keeping his toes out of this one?" sneered Parkinson with such a big grin on her face Harry had half a mind to wipe it off. He gave her a heated look but she chose to ignore it. "Don't want to mess up that already scarred face of yours any further?"
"In your case, if anything manages to happen to it, it'll only look better," said Harry, making the entrance hall ring with the Gryffindors' laughter.
"Go on, Potter! Enter your name!" said Millicent Bulstrode, walking behind Goyle down from the marble staircase.
"Or you think it's not worth your time since we're all more worthy of bringing the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts, anyway?" said Crabbe.
"Crabbe speaks!" said Harry, sounding shocked and clapping a hand to his cheek. "You're just trying to get me to enter and I don't want to," he then said.
"Of course we're trying to get you to enter, you stupid git," said Goyle. "Been planning it since --" but he was cut short by a jab in the ribs by Malfoy standing next to him.
"Really," said Harry flatly.
But it seemed their plan was working a little better than they intended. Ron, Ginny, James, Craig... even a bunch of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were staring hopefully at Harry. He took a deep breath, folding his arms but it wasn't working; every non-Slytherin was obviously hoping he would enter because no one but them wanted a Slytherin champion. Mr. Malfoy didn't happen to have a way of buying his son entry into the tournament, did he? thought Harry, shaking his head at the very thought.
It would be quite a rash decision if Harry did enter, having told everyone for the past several months that he had absolutely no intention of doing so... At the end of Harry's words, Professor McGonagall's footsteps could be heard coming towards them and when she spotted everyone looking at him, she gave them all a sharp look indeed and Harry a commiserating one.
"Oh, please," she said exasperatedly, "leave Potter alone. If he doesn't want to enter, he doesn't want to enter and trust me, once his mind is set on something there is absolutely no changing it," and she stormed off into the Great Hall.
"Look!" said Parkinson when Professor McGonagall was out of earshot, "even she wants you to enter!"
Harry knew perfectly well that Professor McGonagall meant exactly what she said and that Parkinson was only trying to twist it but it made him angrier all the same.
"All the glory coming back to Slytherin -- not Gryffindor anymore -- once one of us gets that cup," said Malfoy, shaking his head deeply.
"Glory?" said Hermione in disgust, "Slytherin? Excuse me, but which house has won the cup for the past six years? And not mention the year that Harry got an Order of Merlin -- FIRST CLASS," she shouted scathingly.
"We're going to get it this year, too, mind you," said Craig just as scathingly. "Winning that tournament isn't going to award you any points towards the cup. There's no Professor Snape to take hideous amounts of points from us. This year it's just brains, Malfoy, just brains, and you lot haven't got any."
Malfoy gave a derisive laugh.
"It's all Potter!" he spat. "Potter won you all your Quidditch games. Potter got you several hundred points the end of each year, letting you win the House Cup. And the Mudblood's winning you all the points in class because she spends her life in the library! May I remind you that Slytherin had won the House Cup for the seven years before he came to this school."
Harry was getting quite angry and telling himself to calm down was no longer working. Raides must have sensed this because she stood slightly taller and moved herself next to his hand, ready to spring into action at any moment. When Harry looked down at her, she looked delighted. But he did take a fast step over to Hermione and grab her before she was able to reach Malfoy and his other hand was on Ron's raised wand. Ron reluctantly put it back down.
"Go on, Weasley, curse me!"
"I figure you'd be scared of ME by now, Malfoy," said Harry, "what with all those close brushes we've been having. Didn't manage to get your Death Eater of a father involved yet? Or are you just frightened? Oh, that's right, Slytherins -- aren't the brave ones... You do remember that detention in our first year? When you saw Professor Quirrel after he had been drinking unicorn blood? You ran flat-out, right with Fang. Wonder if you'd do the same if I did that, wearing a black cloak?" Harry joked, chuckling lightly.
The look on Malfoy's pointed face, having gone slightly paler, clearly showed that he just recalled the scene but he contorted his face into a look of anger again, trying his best to hide it and failing, in Harry's opinion.
"Scared of you? Ha --" said Malfoy, his upper lip curling.
"Fine," barked Harry through gritted teeth. "I'll enter my name, and you know what? I'm going to get my name called and you know it."
"But Harry --" Hermione began.
Harry wanted to get back at Malfoy for once... for all and there was one very simple thing he could do this time to do it. But there was no denying Malfoy was right. Every consecutive year, Harry had given Gryffindor a large amount of House points from Quidditch... from getting into loads of trouble and then saving lives at the end of each school year... (which consequently, got him out of trouble).
Beating Beauxbatons and Durmstrang in the Triwizard Tournament -- with no help from Death Eaters trying to see him through it to the end -- would definitely be something.
Making up his mind in an instant, Harry pulled out his wand, conjured up a piece of parchment, having absolutely no idea how he did it, and then wrote Harry Potter -- Hogwarts on it with merely his finger. He then threw the piece of parchment in the air, jabbed it with his wand and it darted across the room, stopping right over the Goblet of Fire and then falling right into it. Everyone was staring at him again.
"Oh, whatever," said Dean Thomas next to them. "I want to know what's going on besides the stupid tournament! This year is going to be cool!"
"Tell me about it," said Ron, grinning and rubbing his hands together as they headed up the grounds and into the castle to sit down in the Great Hall.
The dragon made of light ominously followed Harry into the castle and, with a wave of the staff at it, starting from the tail, the light died out until it was gone entirely.
Harry, Ron and Hermione took their usual seats at the Gryffindor table, looking all around as the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students filed into the vast Great Hall. It looked a lot more crowded even though there were only far under thirty additional students. Perhaps this was because their uniforms were a stark contrast to the black of the Hogwarts robes. As they all sidled in, when the first Durmstrang student removed their furs, Harry saw that their robes were of a deep bloodred as they were last time.
"Dumbledore ought to consider getting a new color for Hogwarts, robes, eh?" said Raides, still as the staff.
Harry didn't want to startle any of them... any more than they already were... Very quickly however, Dumbledore walked over to them.
"Harry, please put Raides in my care as I do not want to startle our guests and it seems they so very will be," he said calmly. "I daresay it's not every day you see something such as her and I myself was quite startled when I first saw her transform."
Harry, Ron, Hermione and Raides all grinned broadly.
"All right. You go with him then, and you listen to him, too," said Harry, looking at Raides sharply.
Raides rolled her yellow eyes and went back to smiling as Dumbledore grabbed hold of her and walked up to the staff table.
As one Beauxbatons girl swept into the Great Hall, several boys' heads turned to gaze fixedly at her.
Hermione folded her arms and gave a cough that sounded a lot like "veela." Harry knew veela to be something like a regular human female except that they had an interesting ability of making males swoon over them.
"Is that Professor Delacour's younger sister?" he asked, shaking Ron's shoulder to get him to stop staring.
"Honestly," Hermione muttered as Harry did this, and when Ron was back to his usual self, she said, "What was her name? Gabrielle? But she was young, Professor Fleur Delacour must have another sister or something."
"They do look similar," said Harry.
"But she's definitely a veela," said Ron, pointing out all of the other boys who were staring at her as she passed, but then, to Ron's horror, the girl spotted him.
"Hide me," Ron said, suddenly sounding very scared, turning around and also suddenly becoming very stiff. Both of his hands were on the edge of the table and grasping it as if he ever let go, he would fall and die.
The girl motioned for her fellow Beauxbatons classmates to follow her -- right over to the Gryffindor table. The girl herself sat across from Ron and her smile seemed to unstiffen him ever so slightly.
"Hello!" she said, her silvery hair flowing gallantly behind her as she pushed it from in front of her shoulders to behind them. "My name is Adrianne, ze sister of Professor Delacour?" she went on kindly.
She closely resembled her older sister, both of them having very straight, almost perfectly white teeth, large, deep blues eyes and a sheet of long silvery-blonde hair. Her hair, unlike her sister's, only went down to the middle of her back and not her waist.
"Hello," said Ron weakly ("Honestly," said Hermione).
"My sister has told me a lot about you," said Adrianne, "and you, 'Arry, is it?" she added, turning to him.
"Yes," said Harry, grinning, and then grinning at the side of Ron's head.
"Is there something wrong wiz 'im?" asked Adrianne, looking curiously at Ron who's arm was hidden under the table and twitching convulsively.
"No," Hermione said at once, "but it's just that he turns to sludge when a girl talks to him. I'm not a girl, so I don't count," she said loftily, referring to the time around the Yule Ball during the last Triwizard Tournament.
After many failed attempts with other girls, Ron had finally asked Hermione to go to the Yule Ball with him. She refused after Ron said that he would take any girl as long as they looked good even if they were horrible as a person. In reality, Hermione had already been asked by Viktor Krum and didn't want to tell Ron. Harry now even more strongly suspected that Ron and Hermione liked one another but were too far embarassed to admit it to one another...
Just then, Madam Maxime entered the Great Hall and all of the Beauxbatons (who were all sitting at the Gryffindor table) stood up. A few Hogwarts students, even those who had seen them do this last time, stifled laughs. Adrianne stood up at once and none of them sat down until Madam Maxime sat down at Dumbledore's side. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, had added several chairs up at the staff table. Harry looked up at saw Ludo Bagman up at the staff table as well as Percy Weasley.
"Percy's here?" Ron asked Harry.
"Of course," said Ron stiffly.
Hermione tutted and then said, "He's judging, isn't he? Mr. Fudge hired him to take Barty Crouch's place ever since..."
Now Dumbledore stood up and a silence fell over the Great Hall. Harry couldn't make out any sign of Raides.
"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and -- most importantly -- guests," said Dumbledore, positively beaming around at the foreign students. "I have great pleasure in welcoming each and every one of you to Hogwarts and I hope that your stay in our humble abode will be as enjoyable as it is comfortable."
Harry -- and Hermione, he was sure -- remembered it was at this point that Fleur Delacour, when she had been sitting among the students, let out a derisive laugh at this comment from Dumbledore. Just to be sure, he looked up at her sitting at the staff table next to Professor Sprout. Her attention was rapt among all of the new students.
"The Triwizard Tournament will officially be open at the end of the feast," said Dumbledore. "For now, I invite you all to enjoy our wondrous feast and make yourselves at home! I do have some words before we leave that I must attend to," he said, gazing in particular at Harry, who blinked then swallowed, turning to his plate which had just filled with food.
"And, dear God, what is that," said Ron, staring at a strange dish that consisted of, well, Harry didn't really know what that was.
"Mousse de Foies de Volaille," said Hermione.
"I'm not even going to try to repeat what you just said," Ron told her, taking a slice of ham and some mashed potatoes.
"I saw it in a book once," said Hermione as Adrianne and one of her friends began talking in quick french and snatched up the Mousse de Foies de Volaille.
There was silence for a moment, and then --
"So how do you suppose Durmstrang and company was able to get that new shape-changing ship?" Ron asked.
"I have heard bad zings about zat Durmstrang Academy," said Adrianne. "Is it true zat their 'eadmaster is a former, what is it, Death Eater?"
Harry, Ron and Hermione stared at one another.
"Yes," said Harry, "he was."
"He was so biased towards 'is own students, zat man..." said one of Adrianne's friends. "I never liked him vairy much."
"Me either," said Ron quickly which made Hermione roll her eyes.
When the deserts arrived, there were many things that were quite unfamiliar as well. Harry prodded something white and fluffy with his finger, licked it, made a face of disgust and then watched as Adrianne and her lot ate it, commenting on how very good it was here at Hogwarts.
Once the golden plates had been clean ("Zis food is very good," said another girl from Beauxbatons, nodding to Adrianne), Dumbledore got to his feet and a wave of silence swept over the Great Hall.
"The Triwizard Tournament is about to start and before we begin, I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket," he said, "just to clarify the procedure that we will follow this year. Due to last time's -- er -- success, the rules will be much the same. But first, let me introduce Mr. Percy Weasley, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation."
Percy stood up, his chest swelling with pride and Ron keen on avoiding his eyes. The entire Great Hall clapped, but it wasn't exactly flattering applause.
"He's been bragging about it all summer," said Ron bitterly.
"And Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."
There was tumultuous applause for Bagman, partly due to his fame as a Beater or quite simply that he didn't look so narrow-minded and strict in his robes of festive orange and black; they wouldn't have looked out of place at a Muggle Halloween party. Bagman stood up and waved jovially. Percy had done the same but it was in a stiff sort of manner, like he wanted to do it, but thought it would be too unprofessional if he was too into it.
"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Weasley -- whose younger brother, mind you, is considering entering --" Dumbledore said, which made Ron turn so red his face matched the color of his flaming red hair, "have worked tirelessly over the summer and months beforehand on the arrangements and monstrous preparations for the tournament. They will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff and Madam Maxime on the panel judging the champions' efforts."
There was a marked improvement in the attention of students third year and under at the word "champions." Even some of the older students, who had evidently forgotten, were listening more attentively. Dumbledore noticed this, smiled, and said, "The casket, then, Mr. Filch, if you will."
Filch, who was standing behind something furry, golden and scarlet, walked into greater prominence, carrying a big wooden, jewel-encrusted chest looking so old, it would give Raides a run for her money. A wave of murmurs broke out over the hall and several smaller students tried to stand on their seats to get a better look.
"Instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined and approved by Mr. Bagman and Mr. Weasley," said Dumbledore as Filch placed the old chest on the table in front of Dumbledore, "and the necessary arrangements for each challenge have been made. There will be three tasks spaced evenly througout the school year, all designed to test the champions in different ways. Their magical prowess, their daring, their power of mind and, above all, their ability to rise to a challenge in the face of danger."
While the majority of students had already been through this speech once before, there was a silence in the Great Hall such that even the air itself had stopped to listen.
"As is known, there will be three champions in the tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the three participating schools, Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. Each of the champions will be given marks on how well they perform each of the tasks of the tournament. At the very end, the champion with the highest total score will win the Triwizard Cup. Champions for each school will be selected by an impartial judge: the Goblet of Fire."
Dumbledore pulled out his wand from inside his robes and tapped the ancient jewel-encrusted chest three times. The lid creaked open slowly and Dumbledore reached inside it, pulling out a large, old wooden cup. It looked like any other wooden cup, entirely boring save for the blue-white flames inside of it, full to the tip.
Dumbledore closed the casket, placing the goblet carefully on top of it, visibile to everyone in the Hall.
"Anybody wishing the submit themselves as a candidate for champion of their school must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it in the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Wishful champions have twenty-four hours to put their names forward and I do beg you all not to enter your friends' for them. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will have chosen names and return three, one from each school, of which it has judged most worthy and up to the task of being champion. The goblet itself will be placed in the entrance hall tonight where it will be accessibe to everyone.
"To assure that no underage student shall enter their name, there will be an Age Line drawn around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line -- without incident," he said, smiling. "Do note that for anyone wishing to enter, this tournament is not to be taken lightly. Once you have been selected, you are obliged to see the tournament to it's end. Placing your name in the goblet secures a binding contract and there can be no change of heart once you have been selected. Therefore, before submitting yourself, be very sure that you are well up to the task.
"Now before we go, I have two more announcements to make," Dumbledore continued calmly as an almighty uproar broke out over the Great Hall. This was it, Dumbledore was finally going to tell what was going on besides the tournament itself. The next sentence he spoke was loud so as to drown out the roar of voices. "Firstly, one of our number is here as a safety precaution against none other than Lord Voldemort," said Dumbledore which put a quick stop to the roar of excited voices. "As many of you know, a recent discovery of some students at Hogwarts led to the finding of the ancient and long thought-to-be mythological Staff of Cybele."
Several of the foreign students let out derisive laughs, including Adrianne. It was obvious they didn't believe a word of it. Harry simply continued grinning.
"Raides, if you will?" called Dumbledore.
There was a pause... in which there was no sign of Raides. Several more of the foreign students laughed.
"You better call her, Harry, because she's not listening to Dumbledore anymore," said Ron.
Harry rolled his eyes, stood up, looking at the staff table and called out, "Raides, come."
It was that voice that Raides listened to, and, causing several of the foreign students to gasp in fear, Raides crawled out from behind Dumbledore, making her way to Harry. Raides, all the way from the staff table, pushed her powerful legs against the floor and leapt high into the air (causing more gasps), higher than usual, and landed perfectly on Harry's outstretched hand as the staff. He twirled it in the air once, and then put her down as she transformed into a lion again. All the while, Ron had been overcome by a strong fit of giggles at the look on Adrianne's face. Her mouth was so wide open you could fit a plate full of Mousse de Foies de Volaille in it.
"As you will note," Dumbledore continued calmly, taking his seat, "she does not even listen to me. Raides is nothing to fear, however and is quite a friendly lion once you get to know her," he chuckled. "She listens only to Mr. Potter and you will frequently find the two of them walking around the castle together. Raides is naturally a staff but, as you see, can transform into a lion at will. I will perfectly understand if many of you are uncomfortable around her presence but I trust you will eventually become as comfortable as the rest of us."
This wasn't entirely true as some students still skirted her in the corridors.
"Finally, I'm willing to bet the lot of you would eat a dragon if that was what it would take for me to tell you what else Hogwarts is hosting this year," said Dumbledore. "Some of you may or may not know about a famous wizarding school in another country, the United States of America. Deep underground in the city of Manhattan in the state of New York, lies Paladin Laurence Patrick Hayden's Manhattan School of Wizardy."
"I've heard of that!" Hermione whispered to Harry's and Ron's lit up faces.
"Mr. Hayden's prestigious school has turned out many fine Paladins of our age. One of our very own, one Lily Evans Potter," Dumbledore continued with a furtive glance at Harry, "was due to attend their graduate program. Hogwarts' own Paladism class was designed in part with one of the head professors at the school.
"As part of our ongoing efforts to promote international magical cooperation, Hogwarts will be sponsoring a stay in and around Manhattan and possibly, if we can, in the most magnificent dormitories of the school itself. Mr. Hayden's school covers a square mile under the city of Manhattan and is just as beautiful -- if not more so -- as the city itself," explained Dumbledore. "It is not yet determined how long and around when the trip will be happening but there is a required fee of twenty galleons, which pays for the residential fees, food, transportation and a tour of the school. We do know it may happen around Christmas or it may take place after the second task, giving all of you a week or two off of your studies. When more information concerning the matter is available, I will inform everyone during dinner that night. And now, it think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."
"Wow," said a voice behind Harry belonging to Seamus Finnigan as everyone stood up. "The Manhattan School of Wizardry, my gran's talked a lot about it. My great, great grandfather went there. He said that the dormitories alone in the school can fit the whole of Hogwarts in them!"
"That -- is -- big," said Ron.
"I think big is an understatement," Seamus went on. "It covers a square mile under the city. There's a dueling wing which is attached to a famous hospital, used by the wizarding community there even if they don't go to the school (and it's run by graduate students), a weapons training wing, many classroom wings. And that's all just for the graduate buildings. They use a permanent Gate -- despite the fact that most people don't like them -- to travel across the campus, across the Fire Quidditch field which doubles as a regular Quidditch field, to the undergraduate building -- and I heard they let a vampire student in this year --"
"Okay, I get the idea," said Ron.
"The entrance hall is made of glass and being underground, you'd think the scenery is horrible but it's nothing of the sort. There's so much room, they might even let our parents come for free at some point. You mark my words --"
Seamus went on and on (he mentioned something about them letting in anyone, even part humans) as everyone walked over to the doors of the Hall, Raides now trotting ahead of Harry. When Karkaroff finally saw her up close, he practically ran past her, afraid he was going to get bitten or something. Harry was at least happy that, this year, no one was stopping to stare at the scar on his forehead.
"I wonder how we're going to get there?" said Hermione. "I mean, it's a bit far to Disapparate and I haven't seen any mass means of transportation for us like Durmstrang's ship and the carriage from Beauxbatons."
"Whatever it is," said Harry, grinning, "it's going to be interesting to see, I'm sure."
Friday, when everyone usually rose early enough only to get up for classes, Harry, Ron and Hermione weren't the only ones getting up extra early just to stand around the entrance hall and wait to see if anyone went to put their name in the Goblet of Fire. It was in the center of the entrance hall, a ten foot in diameter yellow Age Line drawn around it, sitting on the stool usually sat upon by the Sorting Hat.
"So who thinks Malfoy isn't going to?" asked Ron, standing by the doors of the Great Hall, his arms folded and peering curiously around.
"I wouldn't, Weasley, but you might wanna," sneered a voice coming up from the dungeons. "Father says the tasks this year are a bit more dangerous. Maybe if you get yourself killed, your family could finally afford a new set of robes for your little sister!"
"Hello, Malfoy," said Harry coolly, making himself seen from the wall next to the dungeons staircase. He budged up against Raides and Malfoy walked quickly into the Great Hall.
"Little prat," said Ron bitterly. "He's going to get his, you wait."
"Watch him go running to his daddy now that he's afraid of me," Harry chuckled.
"Who cares about him, has anyone put their name in yet?" asked Hermione anxiously.
"The Durmstrang lot and I just saw Susan Bones from Hufflepuff drop her name in!" said Hannah Abbot, a Hufflepuff seventh year. "Some Ravenclaw girl, Lisa Turpin, put her name in, too, and rumor has it Millicent Bulstrode from Slytherin put her name in in the middle of the night."
"I'll eat Pig if Bulstrode gets in," said Ron.
"I'll eat Raides," said Harry, fully agreeing.
Fifteen minutes had passed and along came Justin Finch-Fletchley, a Hufflepuff seventh year who Harry got along with fairly well in Herbology classes. He was carrying a small slip of parchment and looking very smug.
"Harry!" said Justin once he'd spotted him. "Going to enter your name, too? Or have you already?"
Harry didn't say anything. Justin hastily dropped the slip of parchment into the goblet and then they were all joined by James Griffith, Craig Stone and Ginny. Craig immediately asked who from Hogwarts had put their name in. Hermione ticked them off one by one off her fingers.
"Bulstrode?" asked James in disgust. "You mean the fat one that resembles Harry's cousin, Dudley, with some extra padding and looking twice as ugly?" Harry and Ron quickly turned their laughs into hacking coughs. "Not to mention I see him hanging around the Slytherins. Seems particularly keen on following Malfoy around --" he was saying while looking pointedly at Harry.
"I'm not worried about him," he told James, shaking his head slowly.
"His main weapon is Malfoy and if you haven't noticed, Malfoy's deathly afraid of Harry now," Ron explained, finishing with a snigger while Harry gave Raides a meaningful pat on the head.
"So, going to enter your name, Harr-"
"No," said Harry shortly, feeling generally annoyed and, abandoning his post hastily, turned into the Great Hall.
When he was out of earshot, James asked Hermione and Ron, "Why's he so testy about it?"
"He's not acting all himself lately," said Ron, watching Harry go.
"As if that wasn't obvious. He's been acting a little odd since, well, the beginning of the year?"
"Yeah, I'd say that'd be about right..."
"D'you think maybe... it's just because of Cho? I mean, he gets very sensitive talking about her in front of anyone," said Hermione slowly.
"We weren't just talking about Cho now, were we?" said Ginny testily, shaking her head.
"Who knows, but something's definitely up and I sure wouldn't bring the subject up to him," said James.
They all looked at each other and then at Harry as he sat down, Raides at his side. James and Ginny followed Craig, Ron and Hermione into the Great Hall, taking seats near Harry and Neville.
"You didn't enter, did you, Neville?" Ginny asked.
"My gran says I'm in enough danger in Potions classes!" Neville bursted out, "and I don't need any more trouble by going into the Triwizard Tournament."
"And you really think your name will come out if you enter it?" said the distinct voice of Dudley from behind Harry.
"Since when did you start taking up Malfoy's job?" said Harry hotly, not turning around. While mean to say aloud, everyone thought Dudley had a point. "Go away."
"He's walking back to Malfoy now," said Ginny, staring at Dudley as he left. "What's up with him? Why doesn't he hang around Gryffindors?"
"I can't believe him. Dudley's a Mudblood and -- sorry," said Harry quickly, watching Hermione wince at the word "Mudblood." Harry knew it to be the most foul thing to call someone born of Muggle parents but it had simply slipped his tongue.
"Please, Harry," said Hermione, who could be referred to as one, "it's bad enough with Malfoy blabbing it all over the place. Don't you go saying it, too."
"Well, Dudley's Muggle-born and you know how much the Malfoy family loves Muggle-borns," said Harry sarcastically, his anger rising ever so slightly. "That's the only reason he even acknowledges Dudley's existence, because he's the only person that can possibly hate me as much as he does." Harry didn't see Ron and Hermione exchanged nervous glances. "I'd like to just -- just be able to possess someone so I could do it to Dudley and hit Malfoy -- then run away."
He had almost said that he could possess someone but quickly remembered how much of an uproar that might cause.
"Please, Harry," said Hermione slowly and very seriously, and Harry completely missed the quizzical faces of Craig, James and Ginny gave when Ron looked positively horrified for a split second, "don't joke about things like possession."
"Don't even say you can," said Neville, helping himself to some porridge which had just appeared in front of him. "My gran doesn't want me being friends with anyone who can -- who has that ability..."
Hermione looked at Harry gravely but his spirit did not sink. Deep down, he really wanted to get back at either Dudley or Malfoy... and possession looked like the way to do it from where he was standing. He glanced at all the worried faces looking at him and helped himself to a doughnut and some orange juice.
"What?" he said impatiently.
Hermione cleared her throat loudly, blinked, looked down at her toast and she, Ron, Craig, James and Ginny stopped looking at Harry.
For History of Magic that morning, Professor Binns did nothing but further Harry's annoyance, going on and on in class about Dark wizards and how they'd abused possession through the ages. This seemed to be a hot topic because in lunch after Defense Against the Dark Arts (where still more people asked Harry, especially Dennis Creevey, if he had entered), Professor Delacour had everyone read up on how to tell if you're being possessed, ways of fighting it off (which was nearly impossible) and ways to prevent it in the first place.
But that was only the first half of class; during the second half, everyone was allowed to talk about the Triwizard Tournament and Professor Delacour herself asked if Harry would be entering.
"I hear all the Slytherins are going to enter their names in the goblet," she had said.
"Well that's nice," said Harry, "now would everyone stop asking me about it?"
It wasn't until after Paladism was over did things get nasty. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Raides were crossing the entrance hall five minutes early. Dumbledore dismissed them as he saw no point in keeping them waiting for dinner when they weren't paying attention how to force a possessor out of a body anyway.
"All the Slytherins did enter their names!" cried Justin Finch-Fletchley, coming out of a Care of Magical Creatures class. "That's just great. One of them is going to get their name spit out, I know it."
Hermione started to look worried, sharing the same sentiments as Justin. Ron had been doing this all along and, during Paladism, he wrote Ron Weasley -- Hogwarts on a slip of parchment.
"Oh, no," said Harry instantly. "No, no, no. Go on, Ron. Drop it in, already."
Ron bit his lip, walked over the Age Line drawn around the goblet, put his hand over the dancing blue-white flames and dropped the slip over the top. It was engulfed within seconds and disappeared, the fire shooting up and turning red for a brief moment afterwards.
"Isn't someone going to get burned by touching that thing?" Ron squeaked, watching as Pansy Parkinson dropped her name in and nearly got her hand burned.
"It's probably just bewitched fire so even if you do touch it, you won't get burned," said Hermione.
"I'll take your word for it."
"So the Gryffindors' most famous, most respected member is keeping his toes out of this one?" sneered Parkinson with such a big grin on her face Harry had half a mind to wipe it off. He gave her a heated look but she chose to ignore it. "Don't want to mess up that already scarred face of yours any further?"
"In your case, if anything manages to happen to it, it'll only look better," said Harry, making the entrance hall ring with the Gryffindors' laughter.
"Go on, Potter! Enter your name!" said Millicent Bulstrode, walking behind Goyle down from the marble staircase.
"Or you think it's not worth your time since we're all more worthy of bringing the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts, anyway?" said Crabbe.
"Crabbe speaks!" said Harry, sounding shocked and clapping a hand to his cheek. "You're just trying to get me to enter and I don't want to," he then said.
"Of course we're trying to get you to enter, you stupid git," said Goyle. "Been planning it since --" but he was cut short by a jab in the ribs by Malfoy standing next to him.
"Really," said Harry flatly.
But it seemed their plan was working a little better than they intended. Ron, Ginny, James, Craig... even a bunch of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were staring hopefully at Harry. He took a deep breath, folding his arms but it wasn't working; every non-Slytherin was obviously hoping he would enter because no one but them wanted a Slytherin champion. Mr. Malfoy didn't happen to have a way of buying his son entry into the tournament, did he? thought Harry, shaking his head at the very thought.
It would be quite a rash decision if Harry did enter, having told everyone for the past several months that he had absolutely no intention of doing so... At the end of Harry's words, Professor McGonagall's footsteps could be heard coming towards them and when she spotted everyone looking at him, she gave them all a sharp look indeed and Harry a commiserating one.
"Oh, please," she said exasperatedly, "leave Potter alone. If he doesn't want to enter, he doesn't want to enter and trust me, once his mind is set on something there is absolutely no changing it," and she stormed off into the Great Hall.
"Look!" said Parkinson when Professor McGonagall was out of earshot, "even she wants you to enter!"
Harry knew perfectly well that Professor McGonagall meant exactly what she said and that Parkinson was only trying to twist it but it made him angrier all the same.
"All the glory coming back to Slytherin -- not Gryffindor anymore -- once one of us gets that cup," said Malfoy, shaking his head deeply.
"Glory?" said Hermione in disgust, "Slytherin? Excuse me, but which house has won the cup for the past six years? And not mention the year that Harry got an Order of Merlin -- FIRST CLASS," she shouted scathingly.
"We're going to get it this year, too, mind you," said Craig just as scathingly. "Winning that tournament isn't going to award you any points towards the cup. There's no Professor Snape to take hideous amounts of points from us. This year it's just brains, Malfoy, just brains, and you lot haven't got any."
Malfoy gave a derisive laugh.
"It's all Potter!" he spat. "Potter won you all your Quidditch games. Potter got you several hundred points the end of each year, letting you win the House Cup. And the Mudblood's winning you all the points in class because she spends her life in the library! May I remind you that Slytherin had won the House Cup for the seven years before he came to this school."
Harry was getting quite angry and telling himself to calm down was no longer working. Raides must have sensed this because she stood slightly taller and moved herself next to his hand, ready to spring into action at any moment. When Harry looked down at her, she looked delighted. But he did take a fast step over to Hermione and grab her before she was able to reach Malfoy and his other hand was on Ron's raised wand. Ron reluctantly put it back down.
"Go on, Weasley, curse me!"
"I figure you'd be scared of ME by now, Malfoy," said Harry, "what with all those close brushes we've been having. Didn't manage to get your Death Eater of a father involved yet? Or are you just frightened? Oh, that's right, Slytherins -- aren't the brave ones... You do remember that detention in our first year? When you saw Professor Quirrel after he had been drinking unicorn blood? You ran flat-out, right with Fang. Wonder if you'd do the same if I did that, wearing a black cloak?" Harry joked, chuckling lightly.
The look on Malfoy's pointed face, having gone slightly paler, clearly showed that he just recalled the scene but he contorted his face into a look of anger again, trying his best to hide it and failing, in Harry's opinion.
"Scared of you? Ha --" said Malfoy, his upper lip curling.
"Fine," barked Harry through gritted teeth. "I'll enter my name, and you know what? I'm going to get my name called and you know it."
"But Harry --" Hermione began.
Harry wanted to get back at Malfoy for once... for all and there was one very simple thing he could do this time to do it. But there was no denying Malfoy was right. Every consecutive year, Harry had given Gryffindor a large amount of House points from Quidditch... from getting into loads of trouble and then saving lives at the end of each school year... (which consequently, got him out of trouble).
Beating Beauxbatons and Durmstrang in the Triwizard Tournament -- with no help from Death Eaters trying to see him through it to the end -- would definitely be something.
Making up his mind in an instant, Harry pulled out his wand, conjured up a piece of parchment, having absolutely no idea how he did it, and then wrote Harry Potter -- Hogwarts on it with merely his finger. He then threw the piece of parchment in the air, jabbed it with his wand and it darted across the room, stopping right over the Goblet of Fire and then falling right into it. Everyone was staring at him again.