Albus Dumbledore stood tall.
Watching over the students of the three major magical schools of Europe, he allowed a small smile of pride to flit across his face, as he saw the way that they were interacting with each other while waiting for the Goblet of Fire to choose the contestants.
Turning to glance at the Goblet, his smile fell.
He hadn't wanted the thing anywhere near his school, its past of death and destruction still lingering around it. He'd outright threatened the Minister of Magic over it too, pushing his boundaries a little too far in his attempts to keep the Triwizard Tournament buried deep where it belonged. The Minister however, had the final say, despite all of Albus' political power – and thus the Tournament was at Hogwarts, the school being a couple of million galleons richer as part of Cornelius' bribes.
Albus only had the choice to decline the money meant to 'soothe things over' and keep kicking up a fuss, or to accept the money and do what he could to keep the death toll at zero while setting an age limit even the Minister could agree with. Either way, Hogwarts would have been hosting the Tournament, with or without his permission.
Still… it was good to see the international cooperation going on.
The crackling of fire pulled Albus' attention back to the Goblet, the blue-white flames within it rising up and flaring brightly. As all the students went silent automatically, everyone in the Great Hall staring at it eagerly, Albus moved forward to stand before it, drawing everyone's eyes to him instead.
"It seems the Goblet is almost ready to make its decision," he began slowly, his voice reaching every corner of the deathly quiet hall. "I estimate it will take only a minute to decide. Now, I would ask that when the Champion's names are called, that they would stand and move to the front of the Hall before moving into the chamber through that door," he requested, gesturing towards the door to the Trophy Room as it lit up with a bright glow to help identify it.
Drawing his wand, Albus extinguished all lights in the Great Hall, leaving only the Goblet of Fire's blue-white light to illuminate the large room. Almost as if it were waiting for that to happen, the Goblet's flames turned blood-red (something Albus thought fitting for the amount of deaths it had brought about) and it sparked angrily, a tongue of fire exploding from its mouth as it spat out a charred piece of parchment to the awed gasps of students and staff alike.
Catching the first name, Albus glanced at it to identify the school, before clearing his throat and saying "The Champion for Durmstrang is… Viktor Krum!"
A wave of applause and screams rolled through the Hall, Albus blinking a few times to clear his ringing ears as a large burly student stood and rudely stomped his way past him and into the Trophy Room. He remembered the name, he thought, some kind of Quidditch player. Igor Karkaroff had insisted on being allowed to bring several Bulgarian Hit-Wizards with them to act as bodyguards for the boy. Albus had refused, not only was dark magic legal among the Bulgarian military, but it was expected of them, and he wouldn't allow that in his school.
Karkaroff was also a Death Eater, and Albus had no issues admitting he was petty.
Slipping the named parchment into his pocket for later, Albus turned to the Goblet once more, watching the blue fire expectantly as the Hall went quiet again. Time passed slowly as they waited for the Goblet to turn red again, Albus beginning to wonder (hope) that the Goblet had stopped working when it did just that, hurling a second name from its depths in a flash of flame.
"The Beauxbatons Champion," he declared upon catching and reading the parchment, "Is Ms Fleur Delacour!"
Oh… he mused as he watched one Beauxbatons student hurling her hat across the room with a snarl… that was unnecessary. Flicking his wand in the direction the hat went, Albus silently charmed it to fly back across the room where he silently stuck it to the girl's head, finally turning his attention to the beautiful blonde strutting up the Hall to the cheers and wolf whistles of the other students. She looked tough, he could see it in her eyes as she nodded to him as she passed, this one was more than a pretty face.
Albus admittedly like the French more than the Bulgarians. The French had strict anti-dark laws, and Madame Maxime's only request was for French foods to be served for the students to enjoy at meal-times.
When Ms Delacour vanished into the Trophy Room and the Hall fell silent in expectation of the third Champion's selection, Albus felt his stomach begin twisting painfully. Which of his students would be chosen? Which of his students would he be forced to watch be incinerated by a dragon? Which one would drown in a lake? Or be devoured by whatever creatures the Ministry were importing for the final task? If he could, Albus would have put only his own name in the Goblet, much rather he be killed by the Tournament than one of his students.
He'd lived his life, they'd barely started theirs.
As the Goblet of Fire flared up for the final time, Albus caught the smoking parchment it released, holding it tightly in his hand for a moment before building up the courage to unfold it to reveal the name.
Dammit… such a bright boy…
"The Hogwarts Champion," he called, forcing the regret from his voice as his eyes instantly started searching for the young man, "Is Cedric Diggory".
Hufflepuff table exploded at the words, the entire House seemingly ecstatic that one of their own had been chosen, as the broadly grinning boy stood and headed off towards the Trophy Room. He was so confident, so brave. And he had such a bright future ahead of him, if his father was to be believed. Albus could only hope he'd live to see it.
Trying to force the depressing thoughts from his mind for now, Albus straightened his back and delivered his best grandfatherly smile upon the boy as he passed him, waiting until Cedric had long since left the Hall before clearing his throat to silence the students.
"Excellent!" he shouted, making the few stragglers fall mute as he moved to stand before the Goblet once more, "We now have our Champions. I'm sure I can count on you all, including our remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang to give all our champions all the support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you give them the strength they need to-"
Albus cut off instantly as the room's lighting changed sharply, the blue illumination radiating from behind him turning dark red once more. Slowly turning to face the Goblet of Fire, he mentally promised to curse Cornelius so badly his grandchildren would feel it, as the watched the fourth name being pushed out of the Goblet's mouth by an arm of fire.
The name falling into his outstretched hand, Albus refused to move, his eyes flicking to the Head Table to see the looks of shock and confusion upon everyone's faces. What was happening? Was the Goblet broken? Had the enchantment decayed over the time it'd been sealed away? Feeling everyone's eyes burning into him, Albus tried to push down his rising nerves, and slowly reached out to unfold the parchment, staring at the name written there in rapidly growing horror.
He didn't understand… how could a fourth name be pulled from the Goblet? And more specifically, how could this name be chosen? Pausing to watch the Goblet again, feeling everyone still staring and expecting him to read the name out, Albus ignored the Minister of Magic as he approached in favour of waiting to see if the Goblet would spit out a fifth name.
"Albus? Albus?"
Curling his fingers around the parchment, he scowled at the nervously sweating Minister, already feeling the magic of the contract he'd signed in regards to the Tournament trying to push him into acting. Not looking away from the Minister, the parchment scrunching up in his hand, Albus cleared his throat, forced by the magic of the Tournament to announce the fourth Champion to the confused schools.
"Harry Potter".
The Minister blinking dumbly at him, Albus bowed his head slightly as whispering broke out among the English students, the other two schools sure to pick up the gist of it soon enough. "Are you happy now, Cornelius?" he asked slowly, feeling his magic building up in his eyes as he glared up at the idiot man. "You've sentenced a fourteen year old boy to die".
"But-but that's impossible!" Cornelius argued as the other two Headmasters joined them.
"What is the meaning of this Dumbledore!" Karkaroff exclaimed, looking around at the gathered students with a smug look, as if pleased to be talking about this in front of everyone. "I do not recall anyone telling me that Hogwarts gets two Champions, or is this more of your infamous 'English Justice' that we are seeing here?"
"I would hardly call this justice, Igor," Albus corrected, his wand flicking subtly in a charm to prevent the gossiping students from listening in. "Nor would I claim Hogwarts has two Champions. Mr Potter is not a student here".
"Of course he's bloody well not!" Cornelius exclaimed indignantly, "Hogwarts is no place for a squib!"
"'Ow is he to compete then?" Madame Maxime questioned slowly, glaring at the Minister for his comment, "Zis is a tournament of magic, is it not?"
Albus' mouth opened to assure them that Harry Potter would not be competing, but the man himself was cut off as the Goblet flared up once more, fear filling him as everyone went quiet to watch the blue-white flames surging around the Goblet angrily. Dropping the anti-eavesdropping spell absently, Albus and the other officials were forced away from the Goblet as it reacted to something unknown, tongues of fire extending from within it to snake around as if searching for something – likely Harry Potter.
And then it was over, the blue flames were being pulled back into the Goblet as it went quiet, Albus just beginning to hope that it would retract Harry Potter's name when a pulse of magic exploded from it, and a spiral of blue-gold balls of light descended from the ceiling and coalesced into the form of a young raven-haired boy standing frozen with a muggle backpack thrown over his shoulder and a book tucked under one arm.
Silence reigned throughout the Great Hall, as everyone stared at the confused Harry Potter, and the confused Harry Potter stared back.
"This isn't my History class".
THE SQUIB-WHO-LIVED
Now. While this idea is labelled 'The Squib-Who-Lived', it doesn't mean Harry's actually a squib... except it kind of does. Harry doesn't have WIZARDING magic, and instead has some other form of magic/magical ability, I don't know what the other magic/magical ability is yet though, so use your imagination.
The Undercover Operative cannot claim to own Harry Potter.