Disclaimer: I do not support Rowling's views. All Harry Potter characters and the Wizarding World, unfortunately, belong to she-who-must-not-be-named.
Cassius entered the room off to the teachers' table and he was met with Viktor and Fleur standing around an ornate fireplace opposite him. "Who would've thought that three students who dined together yesterday would all become champions today."
The two foreign students turned to face him, similar expressions of disbelief and amusement.
"Oui, très drôle," said Fleur.
Cassius grinned. "I believe that it's only fair while it's only us three in here, we drop the act, considering our overlapping connections," he glanced at Viktor, "you too."
"You and your sister are quite a peculiar pair," Viktor said, free of the heavy Bulgarian accent he sported in public.
"If Thalia trusts you, so shall I," Fleur added, a barely audible French accent lacing her voice.
The amicable mood between the three champions was interrupted, the door to the room was opened once again and thunderous noise entered from the Great Hall. The door closed once again, but a harsh hum could still be heard.
A timid figure approached the three of them, Cassius recognized their newest addition instantly. "Well, this has become quite interesting."
"What did you just say?" Fleur asked, back to speaking in French.
Cassius snorted. "You'll see soon enough," he replied in French.
Although they didn't speak, the three champions came to the same conclusion. Between the commotion outside and the shaken student in front of them, there was only one possibility: Harry Potter was going to be a champion.
There was a sound of scurrying feet, Ludo Bagman entered the room. He took Potter by the arm and led him forward. "May I introduce - incredible though it may seem - the fourth Triwizard champion?"
Viktor and Cassius remained impassive.
Fleur, however, tossed her hair, smiling, and said, "Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman." A stark difference between Fleur's true self and the character she played.
Cassius's mouth almost twitched into a smile.
"Joke?" Bagman repeated, bewildered. "No, no, not at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"
Deciding to play along, Viktor furrowed his thick eyebrows and Cassius acted positively bewildered. Fleur and Cassius quickly locked eyes, similar auras of mischief behind their facades.
Fleur frowned. "But evidently zair 'as been a mistake. 'E cannot compete, 'e is too young."
The door behind them opened again, and a large group of people came in. The buzzing of hundreds of students on the other side of the wall continued until Professor McGonagall closed the door.
"Madame Maxime!" said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. "Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!"
Cassius stifled a chuckle and clenched his jaw, giving off an aura of irritation. Little boy?
Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full, and considerable, height. The top of her head brushed the candle-filled chandelier. "What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" she said imperiously.
"I'd rather like to know about that myself, Dumbledore," said Professor Karkaroff. He was wearing a steely smile, and his blue eyes were like ice. "Two Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions—or have I not read the rules carefully enough?" He let out a short, harsh laugh.
"C'est impossible," said Madame Maxime, whose enormous hand was resting upon Fleur's shoulder. "'Ogwarts cannot 'ave two champions. It is most unjust."
"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, his steely smile still in place, though his eyes were colder than ever. "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."
Severus's black eyes were alight with malice. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to—"
Cassius caught Severus's attention and the man abruptly stopped his tirade, calming down almost immediately.
He could tell that Severus was embarrassed to need him to anchor his temper towards Potter, but Cassius and Ophelia were quickly connecting Severus's past and his resentment with every Occlumency and Legilimency lesson they had. With the increasing possibility of Lord Voldemort rising, the Warrington siblings began mind training during the school year—prior to that year, they only trained during breaks with accomplished Occlumens and Legilimens associated with their father's side of the family.
Professor Dumbledore was now looking down at Potter, who looked right back at him, trying to discern the expression of the eyes behind the half-moon spectacles. "Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" he asked calmly.
"No," said Potter. He was very aware of everybody watching him closely.
"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" said Professor Dumbledore.
"No," said Potter vehemently.
"Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" cried Madame Maxime.
"He could not have crossed the Age Line," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "I am sure we are all agreed on that—"
"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line," said Madame Maxime, shrugging.
"It is possible, of course," said Dumbledore politely.
"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" said Professor McGonagall angrily. "Really, what nonsense! Harry could not have crossed the line himself, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that he did not persuade an older student to do it for him, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!"
"Mr. Crouch. . . Mr. Bagman," said Karkaroff, his voice unctuous once more, "you are our, er, objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?"
Barty Crouch, who was standing outside of the firelight, his face half-hidden in shadow, finally spoke up. "We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."
"Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front," said Bagman, beaming and turning back to Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, as though the matter was now closed.
"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," said Karkaroff. He had dropped his amicable tone and his smile now. His face wore a very ugly look indeed. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore."
"But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that," said Bagman. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out—it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament—"
"—in which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" Karkaroff exploded. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"
"Empty threat, Karkaroff," growled a voice from near the door. "You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"
Cassius began to feel true irritation. Ever since the incident between Moody and Ophelia, Cassius was on edge whenever he saw the man.
"Convenient?" said Karkaroff. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody."
"Don't you?" said Moody quietly. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's name in that goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out."
"Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give 'Ogwarts two bites at ze apple!" said Madame Maxime.
"I quite agree, Madame Maxime," said Karkaroff, bowing to her. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards—"
"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter," growled Moody, "but, funny thing. I don't hear him saying a word."
Cassius shrugged. "Why should he complain? The thousand galleons prize is tempting, now that it's in his reach."
Nearly everyone paused. Ironic that the most wealthy person in the room would consider a thousand galleons tempting.
"'E is not wrong! Ze little boy 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our schools! Zis is a chance many would die for!" Fleur continued.
"I wouldn't say die for," Cassius said under his breath.
He and Potter locked eyes, the only one to hear. Cassius gave him a wink, trying to lighten the mood.
"Maybe someone's hoping Potter is going to die for it," said Moody, with the merest trace of a growl.
Now that Cassius thought about it, it was a plausible possibility, considering Potter's track record.
Ludo Bagman, who was looking very anxious indeed, bounced nervously up and down on his feet and said, "Moody, old man. . . what a thing to say!"
"Apparently he is now teaching his students to fear assassination too. An odd quality in a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Dumbledore, but no doubt you had your reasons," said Karkaroff loudly.
"Imagining things, am I?" growled Moody. "Seeing things, eh? It was a skilled witch or wizard who put the boy's name in that goblet. . . "
"Ah, what evidence is zere of zat?" said Madame Maxime, throwing up her huge hands.
"Because they hoodwinked a very powerful magical object!" said Moody. "It would have needed an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to bamboozle that goblet into forgetting that only three schools compete in the tournament. . . . I'm guessing they submitted Potter's name under a fourth school, to make sure he was the only one in his category. . . . "
Karkaroff began another retort against Moody, but the more Cassius pondered on Moody's words, the more sense his theory became, regardless of his supposed paranoia. It shouldn't have been possible to have duplicates drawn from the same school under the goblet's parameters. Cassius caught Severus' attention, he could tell the man was thinking the same as he.
"There are those who'll turn innocent occasions to their advantage," Moody replied in a menacing voice. "It's my job to think the way Dark wizards do, Karkaroff—as you ought to remember."
"Alastor!" said Dumbledore warningly.
"How this situation arose, we do not know," said Dumbledore, speaking to everyone gathered in the room. "It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Cassius and Harry have been chosen to compete in the Tournament. This, therefore, they will do."
Cassius could hardly believe that Dumbledore addressed him by his first name, he could count the times he had spoken with their headmaster on one hand.
Unfortunately, the next fifteen minutes consisted of the same arguments being thrown towards Dumbledore. Cassius glimpsed at Fleur and Viktor, both with similar faces of boredom and distaste of the dispute of Potter joining the Tournament. On the other hand, Potter stood close to the door, as if he was prepared to bolt any minute.
The four champions were drawn out of their thoughts to Crouch addressing them. "The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges. It is designed to test your daring, so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard, very important."
Crouch continued, "You are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year exams."
Mr. Crouch turned to look at Dumbledore. "I think that's all. Is it Albus?"
"I think so," said Dumbledore, who was looking at Crouch with mild concern. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty?"
"No, Dumbledore, I must get back to the Ministry," said Crouch.
"You'll come and have a drink before you go, at least?" said Dumbledore.
"Come on, Barry, I'm staying!" said Bagman brightly. "It's all happening at Hogwarts now, you know, much more exciting here than at the office!"
"I think not, Ludo," said Crouch with a touch of his old impatience.
"Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime?" said Dumbledore.
But Madame Maxime had already put her arm around Fleur's shoulders and was leading her swiftly out of the room. Cassius could hear them both talking in French as they went off into the Great Hall. Karkaroff beckoned to Krum, and they, too, exited, though in silence.
"Harry, Cassius, I suggest you go up to bed," said Dumbledore, smiling at both of them. "I am sure Gryffindor and Slytherin are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise."
Cassius glanced at Potter, who nodded, and they left together.
The Great Hall was deserted now; the candles had burned low, giving the jagged smiles of the pumpkins an eerie, flickering quality. They reached the entrance hall, which was now lit only by torches in the absence of the Goblet of Fire.
"So," said Cassius, with a slight smirk, "who do you think put your name in?"
Potter stared up at him. "You believe me? That I didn't do it?"
Cassius could tell Potter wasn't sure if he could believe him. "That's for you to decide if you want to trust me, Potter."
Cassius began to head down to the dungeons, but he stopped. "If I were you, I'd work on my rebuttal. Because I'm one hundred percent certain that most people think that you found a way to enter. And I'm pretty sure that you already know that."
They stood there, across from each other in the entrance hall. "I trust you," said Potter.
"Now, all Slytherins aren't that bad. Or is it that you only trust Slytherins who happen to be Warrington's?"
Potter blushed. "How—"
"That's a story for another time. Rest well, Potter. You're going to need it."
19 December 1992
Hogwarts Library
Harry was seated alone in a secluded part of the Reference Section. Now that the entire school knew that Justin Finch-Fletchley and Nearly Headless Nick was petrified the previous night after the Dueling Club meeting, practically the entire castle was convinced that Harry was the Heir of Slytherin.
Desperate to hear his own thoughts without the muttering or hissing of his peers, Harry has turned to the library for sanctuary. Although he was in a somewhat pleasant mood—despite the unfortunate petrifications—the Polyjuice Potion Hermione had been brewing was almost ready.
He began working on his Transfiguration essay, occasionally flipping through his textbook for theories on the Reparifage incantation until Harry saw something moving in the corner of his eye. "It's you."
"Shit!" she jumped and turned around, trying to find where the voice came from. Her eyes finally landed on Harry who was hidden behind massive stacks of books. "Potter, you can't go scaring people like that, then they'll really believe you're the Heir of Slytherin."
Harry paled. "I—um, I'm so sorry, Warrington."
He didn't think it was possible for her to have such a fearful look, but she slowly walked towards Harry, a sinister gleam in her eyes. "Sorry for what? That you scared me? Or that you're the Heir of Slytherin and I'm your next target?"
"Target...no! I'm sorry for scaring you! I'm not, I'm not the Heir," Harry stammered.
Now towering in front of the seated Harry. "Of course not," Warrington said, a twisted smile on her face, "because it's me."
Harry fell out of his chair.
"Oh my goodness, I'm only joking Potter! So sorry." Warrington offered a hand to Harry.
He stared up at her, unsure whether to trust her.
She laughed. "I swear I'm not going to petrify you. Scout's honour." She raised three fingers with her other hand.
Harry carefully took her extended hand and she helped him to his feet. He was surprised that she practically flung him across the room. "Woah, you're really strong—"
Warrington rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes, I'm really strong for a girl."
"I was going to say you're really strong since you're a Beater."
"Oh."
Harry chuckled, he never expected the confident and cool Warrington could be rendered speechless.
"I must stop doing that. My brother always told me to stop jumping to conclusions," she muttered, deep in thought. "I'm only the reserve anyway, stupid Peregrine Derrick beat me. Now Pansy's brother Christian has to play with him for another year, and I have to endure him, Draco, Adrian, and my brother teasing me for not making the final roster. Stupid Marcus, I'll send another Bludger at him next practice. I hope he enjoys my Christmas present to him, a brand new concussion."
If Harry was sitting in his seat, he would've fallen out of his chair in shock once again. "Remind me not to get you angry."
Warrington hopped onto the table that Harry was studying at, her legs swinging back and forth. "I'll try, but I don't make promises I can't keep. So Potter, why are you hiding in the back of the library all alone? Where's Weaselbee and Granger?"
Harry crossed his arms. "You know it's Weasley. You're willing to address Hermione properly, shouldn't you be calling her that awful name like the rest of your friends?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Ah, of course. Since I'm a Slytherin, I should be slimy like the rest of them. Or am I wrong?"
"I—" Harry stopped, uneasy with how to finish that sentence.
Her laugh cut through the awkward silence once again. "I'm joking again! It's too easy to make you speechless, Potter. Anyway, I don't blame you for thinking ill of me. Draco and Pansy—most of my friends, really—don't exactly have the best record with your lot."
"That's an understatement," said Harry.
She winced. "Yeah...we're working on it! I've known them since I was four, but blood purity is still something I can't get them to let go of."
Harry was taken aback, why was she being so open about something that appears to be a sensitive topic? "Why are you telling me so much? We've hardly spoken since we first met on the train last year."
Warrington smirked. "If I'm going to change your mind that I'm not a slimy Slytherin, then I have to get you to trust me."
Harry leaped up and sat beside Warrington atop the table. "Fine. I trust you."
"Now, don't just say that because I've pressured you."
"Of course not!"
She nodded, satisfied. "I've answered your question, Potter, but you still haven't answered mine."
He thought back to what she asked of him. "Oh, right. I—um, I wanted to be alone. For obvious reasons."
"Do you really think you're the Heir of Slytherin? Because honestly Potter, you're one of the least Slytherin person I know."
"At least one person doesn't think it's me."
Warrington laughed.
Harry was finding her laugh to be quite addicting. "We actually think it's Malfoy," Harry said sheepishly.
She scoffed. "Naturally you guys think it's Draco."
Harry helplessly shrugged. "Since you've been honest...Hermione, Ron, and I are planning to Polyjuice a few of your friends to spy on Malfoy," he blurted.
"Rules don't apply to you, do they Potter?"
His cheeks began to flush. "It sure does seem that way, doesn't it?"
She snickered. "I mean, props to you. As long as you don't get caught, it's none of my business. But who are you planning to Polyjuice?"
"Zabini, Nott, and you," he murmured.
Warrington stared at him.
"Um, Warrington?"
She held up a hand to stop him from talking. "Hold on, I need to savor this moment."
Harry furrowed his brows. "Okay?"
To Harry's bewilderment, she burst into a laughing fit. She brushed an actual tear out of her eye, then finally settled down once again. "I'm sorry, Potter—but how were you going to get—a hair or something—off of us?" Warrington giggled between her words.
"Hermione was going to put Sleeping Draught in some desserts and give it to you guys as a peace offering, then pull off a hair from each of you while you were passed out."
Warrington smiled. "Not a bad idea. But there are two problems with that." She raised a finger. "One, none of us would be dimwitted enough to actually accept something from you guys. No offense."
"None taken, to be honest."
She raised another finger. "Two, I hardly believe you, Granger, and Weaslebee can convincingly play us to trick Draco to get whatever information you want out of him. I mean, really Potter? Do you think you or Weaselbee can pretend to be Blaise? Let alone Granger being me?"
"When you put it that way," Harry trailed off.
Speaking with her, Harry realized that none of them could possibly pull off the confidence that she had.
"Okay. I'm going to offer you a deal, I'll help you."
Harry's glasses fell off of his face when he whipped his head around to look at Warrington directly. "Really?"
"Don't be so eager. I'll help if I'm there to see this entire interaction."
"How can you be there if Hermione is going to be a Polyjuiced version of you?"
"Who said she's going to be me? So is it a deal or not?" She held out a hand.
Harry took her hand into a firm handshake; he felt like he was making a deal with the devil, or more appropriately, a calculating Slytherin in his case.
"Now that that order of business is dealt with, let's talk about revising your plan. The tactic is superb, do tell Granger that I approve. However, the targets are wrong. Going for Draco's friends is the right idea, but as I said before, he would be able to notice imposters parading around as his best friends."
"So who would be better suited for Polyjuice?"
"Crabbe, Goyle, and Bulstrode. Millie isn't as close to Draco, and in a group setting, I believe Granger would do fine. Vince and Greg? Well…"
"They'll eat any food we leave behind, won't they?"
Warrington nodded. "Don't get me wrong! They're a fun pair, albeit bigoted, but we're all more than what we are on the surface. . .anyway, Granger can use her Sleeping Draught on them and I can get some hair from Millie's brush for Granger. I suppose I'll have to arrange something to distract Millie when all of this goes down. Maybe I can get Cassius and the boys to do an open Quidditch practice for all Slytherins that want to learn how to play. Oh! Maybe—"
Harry interrupted her. "Why are you helping us? It seems like it's going to be a lot of effort for you to do all of this and then get nothing in return."
She grinned and Harry couldn't help but compare her to the Cheshire Cat. Was it a genuine smile or a conniving one? "I have my reasons, Potter. And one of them is definitely to see Draco act a fool. You don't mind if I let Blaise, Theo, and Daphne privy to this? Well not all of it, but it would be better to have more people to play along. It'll be more convincing that way."
"I guess?"
"Good! So that leaves us with when."
"We were planning to do it over the holidays. We overheard Malfoy and Zabini saying that you guys were going to stay at Hogwarts."
"Ah, and you judge us Slytherin for being sneaky. She wagged a finger in his face. "We were going to stay since the Malfoy's had to go on a business trip and we didn't want to leave Draco all alone. But my parents offered to have him stay with my family, so that plan has been scrapped."
"Oh," was all Harry could say.
She snickered once again. "Please, Potter, don't look so glum. So here's what we're going to do. After the holidays, I'll arrange a study session in the library so we can revise, and you can have your Malfoy interrogation. We usually have weekly revision sessions anyway, so it shouldn't be out of the ordinary. And while that is happening, there will be a Slytherin Quidditch practice so Millie can be preoccupied. Even though I'm 99.98% certain he is not the Heir of Slytherin."
It was more detailed than what Harry, Hermione, and Ron had planned. "It almost seems too easy."
"Always have a contingency plan, if the Sleeping Draught doesn't work, I can get hairs for you and just have Vince and Greg go to the practice as well."
"Lia, you alright? You've been back here for a while," a voice called, footsteps beginning to approach.
She hopped down from the table and brushed off her robes. "I'll owl you for more details over the break," she whispered.
Warrington grabbed the book that she was looking for. "I couldn't find this stupid potions book!" she replied loudly enough, then winked at Harry.
Warrington jogged to the end of the shelves to meet the voice. "Aw, did you miss me, Draco?"
"Ugh, yeah right."
When they became out of earshot for Harry, the boy who lived broke into a smile. He had found a new reason to be happy that day.
A/N: Since I skipped straight to year four from the prologue, I've been writing so many flashback scenes to fill the pieces of their past. I won't be able to post a chapter next week because I have to move into my apartment, but I do have a fun chapter in store for the next one! :)
Next chapter: Gryffindors vs Slytherins (part one) [keeping it ambiguous hehe]
Contains content from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets; and Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
- Book 2, Chapter 11: The Dueling Club
- Book 4, Chapter 17: The Four Champions