Italicized: Excerpt from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
Chapter Thirteen: The Triwizard Tournament
October 30th, 1984 / Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain
Almost a week before the events taking place in Hawkins took place, the entire student body of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry welcomed the students of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. The boys and girls of each school were talented, which was apparent from their entrances. The students of Beauxbaton had run into the hall transfiguring goblets into swarms of doves, which flew around the Great Hall gracefully. Then the Durmstrang boys and girls entered, twirling staffs with fire tips. Some of the boys were even doing flips and cart-wheels, something that amazed the rather un-athletic student body of Hogwarts. When everyone was seated at their tables, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore stepped up to his golden podium, beaming with pride and joy.
Hermione Granger sat among her fellow students in Ravenclaw House. She was seated next to Padma Patil and Sue Li, and she was quite excited to hear about the tournament everyone had been talking about for the past few weeks. After all, the House Cup and Quidditch Cup had been canceled for this year. Whatever could do that was most definitely a tournament. The Headmaster spoke. "As you may remember, I announced at the beginning of the term that both the House Cup and Quidditch Cup would sadly be canceled this year. This is due to an event that will be beginning tonight, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year, Hogwarts will have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year,"
"You're JOKING!" Fred Weasley exclaimed.
"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar..." Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly. "Er - but maybe this is not the time...no..." said Dumbledore, "where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament...well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely,"
"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued,"
"Death toll?" Hermione whispered, looking alarmed. Sue Li just shrugged. Hermione glanced around the Great Hall, but her anxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of students in the Hall; many of them were whispering excitedly to one another.
"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger. And as a part of the Tournament, an impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money,"
"I'm going for it!" Fred Weasley hissed from the Gryffindor table, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. He was not the only person who seemed to be visualizing himself as the Hogwarts champion. At every House table, Hermione could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore or else whispering fervently to their neighbors.
But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more. "Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This -" Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious. "-is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion,"
His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred's and George's mutinous faces. "I, therefore, beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen. The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang have just arrived and will be remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. Now, let us get started,"
"As I said, the Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation," There was a smattering of polite applause. "And Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports," There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps because of his fame as a Beater, or simply because he looked so much more likable. He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand. Bartemius Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced.
"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts." At the mention of the word "champions," the attentiveness of the listening students seemed to sharpen. Perhaps Dumbledore had noticed their sudden stillness, for he smiled as he said, "The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch,"
Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall, now approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students; Dennis Creevey actually stood on his chair to see it properly, but, being so tiny, his head hardly rose above anyone else's. "The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," said Dumbledore as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "And they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways. Their magical prowess, their daring, their powers of deduction, and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."
At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing. "As we have established, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire," Dumbledore now took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames.
Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall. "Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete. "To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," said Dumbledore, "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line,"
"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."
Excitement buzzed through the Great Hall as everyone began to stand. Hermione was slightly numb with worry. This tournament seemed extremely dangerous, and the fact they were holding it here after so long was concerning. Why now? Only a few weeks after dozens had died at the Quidditch World Cup? After everything that had happened with Professor Quirrel in her first year and the Basilisk in her second, Hermione was beginning to wonder just how safe this school was. After all, it had been only her third year that was relatively safe. Even then, it had been discovered that Professor Lupin was a werewolf. And while Hermione held no prejudice in her heart for anyone, she understood the danger werewolves posed during the full moon, and to find out one had been in the castle was confusing and terrifying. If the professor had forgotten to take his potion once, anything could have happened. It would have been a disaster.
"Granger. You ok?" Cho Chang asked, shaking Hermione by the shoulder.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm alright," Hermione shakily replied.
"Good. You should get some sleep,"
"Right...thanks," Hermione took the older girl's advice and stepped through the Ravenclaw common room. After moving up the stairwell leading to the girl's dorms, she entered the room labeled '4' and found her bed among a half-dozen others. She sat down, gazing out the window. "Hmm," Hermione could swear she saw a faint hint of green in the windows. Like to eyes watching her. But before she get up to inspect them they were gone. Perhaps some sort of trick with the lights. Or her eyes were beginning to fail her. She would have to get them checked during Winter Break. That was a plan.
October 31st, 1984
Hermione had slept through the name entering part of the day. There were no classes, and so all she had to do was either study or sleep. And while her mind continued to push for a bit of studying, her body was completely fine lying in bed lazily for the day. It wasn't until lunch arrived that Hermione was pulled out of her bed by Padma, her best friend. She wore a worried expression on her face. "Come on Hermione. You haven't showered or eaten today. We're going to miss lunch if you don't get up," She warned.
"Fine. Just give me a minute," Hermione grumbled. And so she got up, took a quick shower, and moved to lunch with Padma. They then traveled to the Library and began their studies. Sure, they had no classes, but that was no reason to be completely irresponsible. The most eventful part of their day before the choosing of champions took place an hour before dinner. A group of Hufflepuff and Gryffindor girls were sitting in the corner of the library, talking to themselves then the name 'Harry Potter' came up. Hermione hadn't heard that name since her first year. It had been believed that Harry Potter would be in their year given his birth in 1970, but he hadn't been on the Hogwarts Express, and he hadn't been sorted. But many still believed he would show up.
With all of the press about him from his defeating 'You-Know-Who' as an infant and all of the books about his adventures as a child, many theories began to spread. During her first year, many thought he was in hiding somewhere. Some believe he was being trained to fight the next Dark Lord when he rose. Some thought he may have even moved away. Possibly to America. But many assumed he was dead. And a few figured he never existed and was just a folk tale made up to bring hope to the wizards of Britain. But Hermione...she didn't know what to believe. She hoped that if Harry Potter was real, that he was safe wherever he was. After all, the boy had lost his parents at the age of one and had been hailed the 'Boy-Who-Lived'. And she hoped he would never return because the positive and negative reaction would be too much for anyone to handle. Hermione wouldn't wish that on anyone.
When dinner came, the entire Great Hall began to overflow with suspense. Everyone was eating rather quickly, even those from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. Everyone wanted to know just who would be the champion of their respective schools. Many in Hogwarts believed that the Hogwarts Champion would be either Cedric Diggory or Roger Davies. The Durmstrang Champion was unanimously agreed to be Viktor Krum. And everyone believed that Fleur Delacour - the resident Veela of Beauxbatons - would be the Beauxbaton's Champion. When dinner was concluded, Dumbledore vanished the food from the tables within the Great Hall and stood up to address the students of the three schools.
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 to please come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber -" He indicated the door behind the staff table. "- where they will be receiving their first instructions."
He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting...a few people kept checking their watches. The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. The 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!" yelled Ron Weasley from the Gryffindor Table. A storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Viktor Krum rose from the Slytherin table and slouched 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!"
The blonde 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 to Padma, nodding toward the remainder of the Beauxbatons party. 'Disappointed' was a bit of an understatement. Two of the girls who had not been selected had dissolved into tears and were sobbing with their heads on their arms. When Fleur Delacour too had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement you could almost taste it. The Hogwarts champion next. And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip, Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.
"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Cedric Diggory!"
The uproar within the Great Hall 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. 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."
November 1984
All hell had broken loose the night before. The reveal that Harry Potter was the fourth champion of the 'Triwizard Tournament' shook the entire school to the core. Everyone knew the implications of this. Harry Potter would be forced to come to the school and participate in the three tasks. After all, it was required by wizarding law and the magical contracts tied to the Goblet of Fire for all champions to attend the three tasks. But in the first week of November, Harry Potter remained absent from the castle. People were growing skeptical, wondering if Harry Potter's name had only been chosen as some sort of joke. The student body had all agreed that it wasn't the teachers who had done it. They had been too surprised for that to be the case. So it had to be one of the older students who entered the name.
Hermione didn't necessarily care. She wasn't interested in the Tournament at all and had decided the night after the champion announcements that the whole thing was stupid and dangerous. So on November 11th, she stuck to her studies in the library, accompanied by Padma, Cho, her friend Marietta Edgecombe, and the odd girl in third-year named Luna Lovegood. They were sitting in the Great Hall during lunch, trying their best to focus on their Herbology homework when a presence reached out. She felt him enter before he even stepped foot into the Great Hall. Hermione turned, watching as a cloaked figure stormed down the middle aisle headed straight for Headmaster Dumbledore.
The figure was wearing pitch-black clothing, but it was clear what it was made of. He was wearing black dragonhide boots, dragonhide tactical pants, a dragonhide jacket over a black t-shirt, dragonhide gloves, and dragonhide black-tinted goggles. His black hair fell down to his shoulders on the back, with several strands falling over his goggles, though he didn't seem to care. And his mouth was covered by a black cloth, obstructing his identity. But Hermione could hear people at the other end of the table gossiping. "Is that Harry Potter?" One girl asked. Hermione wouldn't be surprised. Harry Potter was apparently a Lord, and thus he could afford something as expensive as a full set of dragonhide armor.
When the figure reached Professor Dumbledore, he outstretched his hand. Dumbledore took it, shaking it with a happy smile spread across his face. Then Dumbledore led the man down the aisle past Hermione and her group. She tried to get a good look at the eyes behind his goggles, but he had tinted them well. As soon as he had entered, the man was gone alongside the Headmaster. And the group was left to speculate if Harry Potter had arrived within their school. If he had, then it would be a most joyous occasion and opportunity. If not...then they would have to keep waiting.
November 11th, 1984
When dinner came, it was announced that a special guest had arrived at Hogwarts that evening. That pretty much confirmed it. Harry Potter had arrived during lunch and was now within the castle. Hermione and Padma rushed to dinner after the announcement along with the entirety of the other Ravenclaws. While Hermione wasn't necessarily a Harry Potter fangirl, she had done her research. She didn't believe all of those stupid fairy-tale books about him that most kids read during their childhood, but she had read about that Halloween night in 1971. How at the age of one he had killed the Dark Lord Voldemort, freeing the wizarding world from the Second Wizarding World. And then he was sent into hiding for his protection, where he would stay until he was old enough to re-enter the wizarding world.
A bit too late, seeing as admission to Hogwarts was at the age of eleven, and Harry Potter would be fourteen along with everyone else, but it was close enough. But perhaps he had been receiving training during his childhood. After all, he was wearing dragonhide armor and seemed to know Dumbledore personally. Maybe Hermione could ask him a few questions when he wasn't busy. No, that wasn't appropriate. Harry Potter wouldn't want to talk to her. He had other things to focus on, especially the tournament. She would just have to run her questions by Padma, who would probably have just as many questions and few answers. As she took a seat at the Ravenclaw table, Hermione took note that the figure she believed to be Harry Potter was sitting at the staff table. What position had been opened? The Defense position had been filled by Auror Alaster 'Mad-Eye' Moody. Nothing else was open.
And of course, everyone else had heard the speculation that Harry Potter had arrived, and thus all eyes were on the figure at the Head Table. The cloth around his mouth had been lowered, allowing them the opportunity to see his slightly chizled jaw and mouth, but it wasn't enough to confirm it was him. After all, no one knew what Harry Potter looked like. Only the artist renditions featured in those fairy tale books could be used for reference, and those could hardly be accurate. No one had seen him in thirteen years. After dinner, Professor Dumbledore slowly got to his feet. Stepping behind his golden podium, he spoke. All were silent. "Students of Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons. As you may already be aware, a visitor has arrived today, and he will be remaining with us for the remainder of the term. While I'm sure you all have many questions, I ask that you treat this individual with respect and that you consider his privacy. I would like to introduce to you the fourth Champion of the Triwizard Tournament. Harry Potter,"
Everyone leaned forward, and several gasps could be heard throughout the utterly silent Great Hall. Hermione was leaning too. She was curious to see his face. To see what he looked like. The armored figured got to his seat, shaking hands with Professor Dumbledore as he smiled. It was a charming smile, though it lost some effect without being able to see his eyes. That problem was soon solved. Harry Potter pulled the cloth off from around his neck, and carefully removed the goggles placed over his eyes. And after wiping the hair away from his face, they all saw him.
Harry Potter was roughly 5'10" or 5'11". Despite the baggy and large dragonhide armor, Hermione could make out a lean physique, and the muscle tone in his neck and shoulders. His skin was smooth and shiny. But the most captivating part of him was his face. His emerald green eyes shone brightly in the Great Hall, flickering over everyone in the hall with great speed. His smile was mesmerizing, and Hermione could tell he had captured the hearts of several girls with only that small smile. Then his eyes flickered onto hers, and Hermione felt her spine shiver. His smile seemed to grow ever so slightly before he looked away. But she had seen it. He had looked right at her. And he had smiled. Why?
"Now, as I said. I'm sure you have many questions, but Lord Potter has arrived from a long trip and is in need of rest. I am sure he would love to answer your questions in the morning," Dumbledore spoke. Harry Potter gave the room a small wave and a smile, before disappearing in a 'CRACK!'. He had...apparated. Out of the Great Hall. That was impossible. And even Dumbledore knew it if the expression on the Professor's face was anything to go by. And then the gossiping began. After a few minutes, Hermione got tired of it and left for the library. She would have to reread Hogwarts: A History and see if it was possible to bypass the schools' wards. But from memory, she knew it wasn't possible. Who was Harry Potter? The question rang through her mind the entire night.
