Author's Note: School is torture and they don't even teach us things we need for life. On a more positive note I'm actually doing okay mark-wise.
On Saturdays, most Hogwarts students liked to sleep in. That was not the case the morning after Dumbledore revealed the Goblet of Fire. There were quite a few students milling around near the large, burning, goblet. It had been placed on the Sorting Hat's stool in the centre of the room. Harry, Ron and Hermione were among them, waiting, watching. Ron asked a young girl if anyone had put their name in yet.
"All the Durmstrang lot," she replied. "But I haven't seen anyone from Hogwarts yet."
"Bet some of them put it in last night after we'd all gone to bed," said Harry. "I would've if it had been me . . . wouldn't have wanted everyone watching. What if the goblet just gobbed you right back out again?"
Someone laughed behind Harry. Turning, he saw Fred, George, and Lee Jordan hurrying down the staircase, all three of them looking extremely excited. "Done it," Fred said in a triumphant whisper to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "Just taken it."
"What?" said Ron.
"The Aging Potion, dung brains," said Fred.
"One drop each," said George, rubbing his hands together with glee. "We only need to be a few months older."
The scene that followed was probably one of the funniest things Harry had ever seen. Fred and George stepped over the line together. Nothing happened. There were cheers as the twins put their names in the Goblet of Fire. The next spectacle was met by an 'I told you so' look from Hermione.
There was a loud sizzling sound, and both twins were hurled out of the golden circle as though they had been thrown by an invisible shot-putter. They landed painfully, ten feet away on the cold stone floor, and to add insult to injury, there was a loud popping noise, and both of them sprouted identical long white beards. The entrance hall rang with laughter. Even Fred and George joined in, once they had gotten to their feet and taken a good look at each other's beards.
"I did warn you," said a deep, amused voice, and everyone turned to see Professor Dumbledore coming out of the Great Hall. He surveyed Fred and George, his eyes twinkling. "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours."
Fred and George set off for the hospital wing, accompanied by Lee, who was howling with laughter. Even Hermione was laughing. Together, the trio headed over to the Gryffindor table for breakfast. They ate their eggs, sausages and toast between fits of giggles.
Suddenly, the Great Hall went dead silent. He and his friends turned to the doors. None of the students from any of the schools spoke a word; they were too shocked and intimidated.
Walking in perfect sync, as if they'd done it a thousand times, the four Delphi Institute for Magic students walked through the Great Hall. Harry was a little scared. The boys towered over him, both at around six feet tall. The girls were also quite tall, but it wasn't their height that scared Harry, it was their expressions. Their downturned faces made Harry want to cower. To make things weirder, they were dressed in normal muggle street clothes as opposed to their orange wizard robes they'd donned the day before. Muttering erupted all around the Great Hall. The four incredibly attractive students, dressed in jeans, an assortment of faded orange and purple t-shirts and trainers approached the golden age line. They stopped quickly to write their names on the papers they had. Harry noticed they used a muggle pen rather than a quill.
Percy stepped up first. He quickly stepped over the age line and dropped his paper into the Goblet. He stepped away. The blonde girl, Annabeth, as Percy had told them, went next. She too had no issues when it came to the line. Piper, the brunette who was Jason's girlfriend was the same. Jason went last, carefully dropping his own paper into the flames. The Goblet's flames roared with power. For a second, Harry thought it would spit them out, but it didn't; it seemed they were very worthy.
Harry's instincts told him that something was seriously off about these American wizards; they seemed to be hiding something; stuttering, tripping over themselves, back-peddling. What if they were American wizard spies? If muggles had spies, why not wizards. Harry was sure that must be a thing somewhere.
"Hermione," he said, not taking his eyes off the Americans for a second as they stood watching the roaring flames. "Do wizards have spies? Ya-know, like muggles do?"
"I'd guess," she said. "But we may never know. It's their job to stay hidden."
"Hm," Harry said, nodding.
Suddenly, the fire stopped and the Americans began to notice the attention being paid to them.
Percy laughed nervously. "I'm guessing that didn't happen with anyone else," he said.
All of Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons shook their heads.
"Oh," said Jason. "Great."
With that, they sat down together and were quickly laughing about something Percy said.
It was time: the Halloween Feast. The Goblet of Fire would soon choose the participants of the Triwizard Tournament.
"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" — he indicated the door behind the staff table — "where they will be receiving their first instructions."
He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting. . . . A few people kept checking their watches. . . .
"Any second," Lee Jordan whispered.
Annabeth held her breath. She wanted to be chosen for the sole reason of not wanting any of her friends to have to compete. She knew who it would be, she could feel it. Hera hated her and would make this so Annabeth would suffer the most. Annabeth wouldn't be chosen: Percy would. Annabeth heard thunder in the distance, as if the most annoying queen of the gods could hear her thoughts. Percy gripped her hand and she came back. If something happened to him in this competition… No, she didn't want to think about that.
The flames inside the goblet turned red. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it — the whole room gasped. Annabeth felt herself squeeze Percy's hand.
Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it. The flames had turned back to blue-white.
"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, voice clear, "will be Viktor Krum."
"No surprises there!" yelled Ron, Percy and Jason's roomate, one of the people they were there to protect, as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Harry saw Viktor Krum rise from the Slytherin table and slouch up toward Dumbledore; he turned right, walked along the staff table, and disappeared through the door into the next chamber.
"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"
The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused again on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.
"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"
A girl got gracefully to her feet, shook back her sheet of silvery blonde hair, and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. Annabeth knew the order: Durmstrang, Beauxbatons, Hogwarts, Delphi.
The Hogwarts champion would be 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 Hufflepuff table erupted in applause. Everyone else in Hogwarts yelled in protest. Annabeth leaned into Percy, who got the memo and put an arm around her. The Delphi champion's name would come at any minute now.
The Goblet roared redder and with more power than before. The room was silent, all cheering, whispering, or muttering had ceased in a second. A paper shot out of the Goblet, a regular piece of lined paper: a Delphi name.
Dumbledore snatched it out of the air and read the name. Annabeth's heart dropped. She wanted to throw up. He'd yelled the name with such pride and joy, as if it were an honour to have to fight for your life.
"The Delphi champion is," Dumbledore yelled. "Annabeth Chase!"