Chapter 13:
An Unusually Serious Chapter
That night's Halloween feast seemed to take thrice as long as normal. Everyone in the Great Hall eagerly awaited the drawing of the three champions from the Goblet of Fire, scarfing down the delicious food much quicker than usual, chatting excitedly about the future champions and what might be in store for them.
But not everyone was enjoying it.
Hannah was unusually taciturn, and only poked lifelessly at a baked potato while the rest of the Funny Farm chattered merrily around her. Katelyn was the first to notice the way she was gripping the table, her knuckles white and her face even whiter.
"Hannah?" Dean asked, worry straining his voice. "You okay?"
"Yeah," she said faintly. "Just…a bit lightheaded, that's all."
"Drink something," Rachel urged, and Seamus filled an empty goblet with water from his wand.
"No…no, thanks," Hannah whispered. "I—I think I'll maybe go back to…the dorm—lie down…tad dizzy…"
"Let me help you," Dean said immediately, and held her hand as she got up from her seat.
The others watched with concern as the two went slowly towards the door, their appetites suddenly gone. "I hope she's all right," Rachel said fretfully.
"Probably just overexcited, don't worry," Seamus said with unexpected gentleness.
"Um, guys," Tanya said urgently, pointing to Dean and Hannah. They all turned in time to see Hannah stumble and fall forward; Dean barely managed to catch her before she hit the flagstones, but she didn't make any move to regain her feet.
The Funny Farm all jumped to their feet in unison and hurried forward. "What happened?" Katelyn asked.
Dean looked stricken, struggling to keep Hannah upright. "I dunno—she just kind of fell," he said. "I think she's passed out!"
"Excuse me, excuse me!"
They turned to see McGonagall coming towards them, her brow set in a determined manner. "Hannah fainted, Professor," Seamus said, obviously thinking they were in trouble.
"I can see that, Mr. Finnigan, thank you," McGonagall replied. "Is she still out?"
"Yeah."
"Come along then," she said briskly. "Help me bring her to the Hospital Wing. Mr. Thomas, put your hands under her arms. Miss Hekman, hold her feet."
And so they half-carried, half-dragged Hannah out of the Great Hall, Katelyn, Tanya, and Seamus having the decency to walk on both sides so as to shield her from as many curious eyes as possible.
"Poppy," McGonagall called, shoving the Hospital Wing door open.
Madam Pomfrey bustled in, adjusting her headdress and apron. "Yes, yes, Minerva, I saw what happened. Put the girl here," she said to Rachel and Dean. The two hoisted Hannah up and onto a hospital cot.
"Can you tell me exactly what happened before she lost consciousness?" Madam Pomfrey asked in a business-like tone, lifting Hannah's eyelids and peering at her pupils.
"Hannah was complaining of lightheadedness…said she was dizzy," Rachel replied, her voice sounding oddly choked. "Then…she just up and passed out."
"I see," Madam Pomfrey murmured, hitting Hannah's kneecaps with a triangular hammer.
"Is she all right?" Dean asked hesitantly.
Madam Pomfrey reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out her wand and a block of what looked, oddly enough, like chocolate. "Your friend simply suffered a growth-induced seizure."
"Simply?" Rachel cried. "My brother had one and he nearly died! And—wait. You mean Hannah's actually growing?"
"It was a very mild seizure, I assure you," Madam Pomfrey said bracingly. "It's not unusual for teenage girls to experience episodes like this—the sudden onslaught of hormones and chemicals is sometimes too much for their bodies to handle. I'm sure stress doesn't help, either."
"Can it happen to boys?" Tanya asked, thinking of Dean's little 'episode.'
Dean blushed.
"Were you locking your knees, young man?" Madam Pomfrey asked severely.
Dean blushed even more and muttered something under his breath.
"Locking one's knees inhibits the blood flow to the brain, young man," she said, half to Dean and half to Seamus. "It's no wonder you passed out!"
"Is she all right?" Dean asked again, intent on diverting the attention back to the, you know, unconscious girl on the cot.
"I'll wake her up in an hour or so," Madam Pomfrey assured him. "Then I'll send her right back to her dorm—there's nothing better for her than a good night's sleep and minimal excitement for a day or so."
The Funny Farm glanced at each other. "So…it's all right if we go back to supper?" Tanya asked tentatively.
"Of course," Madam Pomfrey said. "I don't want you five passing out with hunger, now."
So they went back downstairs, though not without their fair share of unease. The Great Hall was still full of feasting students, however, and the Funny Farm eased back into their seats.
"Hannah's going to miss the champions' naming," Dean sighed mournfully when the food and plates disappeared.
Rachel shrugged. "Oh, don't worry too much. There are only three, and of course we'll tell her everything."
Just then, Dumbledore go to his feet, and the Great Hall fell silent. "Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision. 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, where they will be receiving their first instructions."
He waved his wand, and all the candles in the Great Hall dimmed and went out, leaving the Goblet as the only source of light. And a very pretty, blue light it was, and one became so transfixed by the dancing flames that the sudden flaring of red came as quite an unpleasant shock. But a tongue of flame spat a piece of parchment into Dumbledore's hands, and the alarm was completely forgotten.
"The champion for Durmstrang will be Viktor Krum!"
The Quidditch fans in particular clapped supportively, but the goblet suddenly spat out a second piece of paper.
"The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!"
The veela-girl marched up the aisle, much to the disgust of every female present (and the utter disappointment of others).
The Goblet of Fire flared up one last time, and spat out the final slip of parchment.
"The Hogwarts champion," Dumbledore called, "is Cedric Diggory!"
Everyone cheered as the incredibly good-looking Hufflepuff Seeker got up and followed the other champions. "What a stupid lump," Seamus said darkly, earning himself some very indignant looks from nearby females.
"Excellent," said Dumbledore, beaming proudly. "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 he stopped, for the goblet had flared red again, and it spat out yet another slip of parchment. Dumbledore seized it with shaking hands, and there was a long moment of weighty silence. Then Dumbledore took a deep breath and read, "Harry Potter."
Everyone turned to stare at him. "I didn't put my name in," he said, blinking in shock. "You know I didn't."
"Harry Potter," Dumbledore repeated. "Harry, up here, if you please."
Harry got up, stumbled, and began walking slowly toward the top table.
"What just happened?" Seamus whispered.
"I'm not sure," Rachel replied, and then Harry went through the door. As soon as it was closed, the Great Hall exploded in babbling. Everyone, it seemed, was just as perplexed as the Funny Farm. In the midst of the noise, though, the blue-white flames in the goblet flickered and went out completely. Dumbledore motioned for Filch, who closed the casket and wheeled it away. Then Dumbledore, McGonagall, Madam Maxime, Karkaroff, Snape, Ludo Bagman, Mr. Crouch, and Moody got up from the staff table and filed through the doorway.
"And that's that," Tanya said, sitting back.
"What?" Katelyn said indignantly. "A fourth year just got selected for the Triwizard Tournament—alongside a seventh year! Do you realize how much danger Harry's in?"
"And I thought my life had no plot," Rachel scoffed. "I think this year might just be the most interesting one yet!"