Hermione felt as though a bucket of icy cold water had been dumped over her head. She was tempted to look up to see if Peeves was above them but knew he would not be. There was no applause, but a buzzing like angry bees filled the Hall. At the table, Professor McGonagall got to her feet and swept past Ludo Bagman and Professor Karkaroff to whisper urgently to Professor Dumbledore, who bent his ear towards her, frowning slightly.
Harry's head whipped around to look at Hermione and Ron. "I didn't put my name in," Harry said desperately. "You know I didn't."
Hermione nodded, still too shocked to say anything.
At the top table, Professor Dumbledore had straightened up, nodding to Professor McGonagall.
"Harry Potter!" he called again. "Harry! Up here, if you please!"
"Go on," Hermione whispered, giving Harry a slight push. She could tell he didn't want to go up, and she didn't want him to either. However, she realised that he didn't have a choice in the matter. Dumbledore had already removed all doubt about whether Harry would have to compete with his explanation of the magical binding contract.
Hermione joined everyone in the Great Hall, watching Harry amble up to the head table in complete silence, like a man walking to his death. With a shudder, Hermione realised that was probably what she was watching. Harry was only fourteen and didn't have the magical education to survive the rigours of the Triwizard Tournament.
Harry finally made it to the front of the room. "Well, through the door, Harry," Dumbledore said with the same blank look they all had.
As Harry's raven hair disappeared through the door, the Great Hall erupted in a deafening roar. Hermione could feel a sob trapped in her throat and the familiar ball of anxiety in her chest. She involuntarily turned to Ron and embraced him in a panicked fear.
"How could this happen?!" Hermione gasped, looking to Ron for some sort of comfort. He stiffened.
"I'll tell you how this happened," Ron said through clenched teeth. "That bloody git went behind my back and figured out how to enter the contest!"
"What?" Hermione stuttered. That was not the reaction she had anticipated at all.
"Harry! We talked - at great length - about entering, but he talked me out of it. Probably so he could enter without me!"
"I don't think-" Hermione started.
"What? Doesn't he get enough attention?" Ron continued, positively raging. "That he has to go and do this?"
"Ron, I don't-"
"And he calls himself my best friend," Ron spat. "He's a traitor."
"Ron, listen to what you're saying," Hermione said.
"I know exactly what I am saying," Ron said, standing up abruptly.
"Ron, don't be ridiculous. This is obviously a plot to-"
"To one up me yet again!" Ron incorrectly finished for her.
"You're being unreasonable, Ronald," Hermione said crossly, grabbing his hand to prevent him from storming away.
"Get off me," he spat and marched out of the buzzing Great Hall, leaving Hermione flabbergasted in her seat.
"What's going on? What's with him?" Ginny asked, sliding down the bench to be next to Hermione.
"I don't have the faintest idea. Your brother just stormed out of here."
"He was probably miffed he didn't get picked," Ginny shrugged.
"But that's the thing - neither him nor Harry entered," Hermione explained.
"Then how did Harry get selected?"
Hermione shook her head. "I don't know, but it's probably not good, whatever it is."
"Well, it is Harry Potter we're talking about," Neville chimed in. "He has worse luck than I do.
Even though the Triwizard Champions were still in the side room off the Great Hall (along with most of the Professors), the rest of the students were ordered back to their Common Rooms for the evening. Hermione tried to hang around the Great Hall, waiting for Harry, but was soon ushered out of the hall with the others.
When she reached the Portrait door, Hermione could hear the ruckus through the walls. Upon entering, pandemonium greeted her. It was almost as rowdy as the Quidditch World Cup celebrations. At least half of the Gryffindors were having a full-on party with Butterbeer, crisps, peanuts, and other snacks. Someone out of Hermione's view had a drum and was beating it over and over with no semblance of a rhythm. Lee Jordan was running around the room with a Gryffindor Banner tied around his neck like a cape, hooting and hollering as he went. Seamus and Dean appeared to be trying to create a fountain from the Butterbeer, but they just kept pouring it all over themselves.
"Hermione!" yelled the Weasley twins from across the room. "Where's the man of the hour?"
"Still meeting with Dumbledore and the others," Hermione said.
"What?" they called again over the noise, but Hermione didn't want to shout anymore, so she just shrugged.
"You don't look very excited," came a voice to her left. Hermione looked down and saw Jillian staring up at her.
Hermione glanced back at the Portrait Door. "I'm just worried, that's all," she said.
"It's so loud in here that it's hard for me to hear," Jillian said. "Can you look at me while you're talking so I can read your lips?"
"Oh, sure, sorry!" Hermione said. "I just said that I was worried."
"But it's Harry Potter! I heard he was the greatest Wizard of all time!"
Hermione had to chuckle. Expectation and reality were two different things. "Sometimes he gets lucky," she said with a smile. Then Hermione noticed a badge on Jillian's robes. "Is it your birthday? Halloween?"
"Yep!" Jillian beamed. "I'm 12 today!"
"Happy birthday!" Hermione said, hugging her. "I'm sorry. Had I known, I would have gotten you something-"
"No worries at all! I'm pretending this is my birthday party! But, hey, my friends are waving me over, so talk later?"
"Sure," Hermione said as Jillian skipped away to join the festivities.
Hermione scanned the room for Ron but didn't see him. She realised Jillian was right - the room was loud and, quite frankly, giving her a headache. With a sigh, Hermione headed upstairs, vowing to talk to both Ron and Harry tomorrow.
Hermione woke at her normal early time and headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast. To her surprise, Ron was sitting at the Gryffindor table, albeit in a different area than their "usual."
"Where did you get to last night?" Hermione asked, sitting down next to him.
"I just went to bed," Ron muttered.
"Did you get to talk to Harry?"
Ron harrumphed and took another bite of his roasted tomato.
"What does that mean?"
"I tried," Ron said. "But the bloody git lied to my face!"
"What did he say?" Hermione asked incredulously.
"That he didn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire," Ron said.
"But he couldn't've," Hermione explained. "There was no way he would have been able to get past that age line. You and I both know he's not that good of a Wizard," she added in a whisper.
"He had to have gotten someone else to put it in then," Ron retorted.
"Who? Who on earth would take that risk? Putting Harry Potter's name in the Goblet of Fire? Rubbish, and you know it."
"What I don't understand is why," Ron continued as if Hermione hadn't said anything. "He already has it all. What more does he bloody want?"
"Ronald, he didn't put his name into the Goblet of Fire," Hermione repeated. "Someone did, but not because he told them to… and that means Harry is in danger."
"Bollocks," Ron said. "He's just a greedy prat." Ron stood up and stormed away from Hermione for the second time in less than 12 hours.
Hermione sighed. That didn't go well. She hoped her conversation with Harry would go slightly better. Still, upon glancing around the Great Hall, she realised that everyone would probably pounce on the poor boy as soon as he came downstairs or, at the very least, overtly start gossiping about him. Hermione decided to grab some toast and run a bit of interference to save Harry from the embarrassment.
Hermione only had to wait a few minutes outside the Portrait Hole for Harry to climb out.
"Hello," she said, holding out the stack of toast she had grabbed from the Great Hall for him. "I brought you this. Want to go for a walk?"
"Good idea," Harry said in a weary voice.
They went downstairs, crossed the Entrance Hall quickly without looking in the Great Hall, and were soon striding across the lawn towards the lake where the Durmstrang ship was moored, reflecting blackly in the water. It was a chilly morning, and they kept moving to stay warm.
"So," Hermione said, looking at Harry expectantly.
"So," Harry replied with a mouthful of toast. "No, I did not put my name in the Goblet of Fire."
"I know," Hermione said.
"You do? You're the only one, then," Harry said darkly.
"Sort of like Hogwarts: A History," Hermione muttered.
"What?"
"Never mind," Hermione sighed. "So, tell me everything. What happened when you went into the side room? Was Dumbledore mad? Worried? How did the other Champions take it? Did you-"
Harry held up his hands, and Hermione quieted at once. "So I went back into the room, and I think the other Champions thought I was just coming in to tell them something, because Fleur asked me if they wanted them to come back to the Grand Hall. They were just as confused as I was, I think.
"Then Ludo Bagman came in and was practically gushing with excitement and introduced me to the others as the Fourth Champion. And then, the rest of the staff and professors came in, and they were livid. Well, everyone except Dumbledore. He was really calm. Unnaturally calm. And in this slow, measured voice, Dumbledore asked me if I put my name in the Goblet of Fire. When I said no, he just shrugged and said that's the end of that question. He was much calmer than I was, that's for sure. I was a wreck.
"So, then all of the Headmasters started yelling at each other because they thought it wasn't fair that Hogwarts got two Champions - which it isn't. Then Mr Crouch and Mr Bagman said there was no way to change it and that we'd all have to compete since it was a magical contract."
"I was afraid of that," Hermione said.
"Then Moody came in and got into Karkaroff's face, talking about how convenient it was that my name got put in the Goblet of Fire and that now I'd have to compete. Karkaroff and Madame Maxime said they were going to lodge complaints, and Mad-Eye said, 'if anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter,' and that someone is probably hoping that I die in the tournament."
Hermione gasped. "I was afraid of that too!"
"Yeah," Harry stared off into the distance. "Moody's pretty convinced that only someone powerful could've put my name in the Goblet because they would have had to get around all of Dumbledore's magic."
"I thought the same thing," Hermione agreed.
"Moody thinks someone cast the Confundus Charm on the Goblet to make it forget there are only three schools and that they put my name in under a fourth school to make sure I was the only one in that category to make sure I was picked."
"That makes sense, unfortunately."
"Well, regardless of how it happened, I'm stuck doing it now," Harry sighed.
"Did they tell you anything about what to expect? Like what the tasks are?"
"Yeah," Harry said. "They said the first test is to 'test our daring,' so they aren't going to tell us what it is. That 'courage in the face of the unknown' is one of the qualities of a champion."
"That's… unhelpful," Hermione said. "Nothing more than that?"
"It will take place on November the twenty-forth in front of the other students and panel of judges. I'm not allowed to ask for or accept help of any kind. All I'll have is my wand. I'll find out about the second task if I survive the first one."
"Oh, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed and gave him the biggest hug she could muster.
"Oh, but this is the best part," Harry said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "I'm exempt from all of the end-of-year tests."
"You're what?" Hermione gasped, letting him go from her embrace.
"Yeah! No tests for me! I'll be able to just coast through the year!
"But that's not a good thing, Harry!" Hermione said. "Next year, we have O. , and you'll need to build up your knowledge!"
"We'll see," Harry chuckled.
They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments. "What did the other Champions say?"
"I think they were pretty miffed. None of them believed I didn't put my name in the Goblet. But I swear I didn't! You do believe me, right?"
"Well, of course! I knew you hadn't entered yourself by the look on your face when Dumbledore read out your name! But the question is, who did put it in?" Hermione wondered. "Because Moody's right, Harry. I don't think any student could have done it. They'd never be able to fool the Goblet, or get over Dumbledore's-"
"Have you seen Ron?" Harry interrupted.
Hermione hesitated. "Erm, yes. He was at breakfast."
"Does he still think I entered myself?"
"Well, no. I don't think so… not really," Hermione said awkwardly.
"What's that supposed to mean, 'not really'?"
"Oh, Harry, isn't it obvious?" Hermione said despairingly. "He's jealous!"
"Jealous?" Harry said incredulously. "Jealous of what? He wants to make a prat of himself in front of the whole school, does he?"
"Look," said Hermione patiently. "It's always you who gets all the attention. You know it is. I know it's not your fault," she added quickly, seeing Harry open his mouth furiously. "I know you don't ask for it, but – well – you know, Ron's got all those brothers to compete against at home, and you're his best friend, and you're really famous – he's always shunted to one side whenever people see you, and he puts up with it, and he never mentions it, but I suppose this is just one time too many."
"Great," said Harry bitterly. "Really great. Tell him from me I'll swap any time he wants. Tell him from me he's welcome to it. People gawping at my forehead everywhere I go."
"I'm not telling him anything," Hermione said shortly. "Tell him yourself. It's the only way to sort this out."
"I'm not running around after him trying to make him grow up!" Harry said so loudly that several owls in a nearby tree took flight in alarm. "Maybe he'll believe I'm not enjoying myself once I've got my neck broken or –"
"That's not funny," said Hermione quietly. "That's not funny at all. Harry, I've been thinking – you know what we've got to do, don't you? Straight away, the moment we get back to the castle?"
"Yeah, give Ron a good kick up the –"
"Write to Sirius. You've got to tell him what's happened. He asked you to keep him posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts. It's almost like he expected something like this to happen. I brought some parchment and a quill out with me –"
"Come off it," said Harry. "He came back to the country just because my scar twinged. He'll probably come bursting right into the castle if I tell him someone's entered me for the Triwizard Tournament –"
"He'd want you to tell him," said Hermione sternly. "He's going to find out anyway –"
"How?"
"Harry, this isn't going to be kept quiet," said Hermione, very seriously. "This Tournament's famous, and you're famous. I'll be really surprised if there isn't anything in the Daily Prophet about you competing. You're already in half the books about You Know Who, you know. And Sirius would rather hear it from you. I know he would."
"OK, OK, I'll write to him," said Harry, throwing his last piece of toast into the lake. They both stood and watched it float for a moment before a large tentacle rose out of the water and scooped it beneath the surface. Then they returned to the castle.
"Whose owl am I going to use?" Harry said, as they climbed the stairs. "He told me not to use Hedwig again."
"Ask Ron if you can borrow –"
"I'm not asking Ron anything," Harry said flatly.
"Well, borrow one of the school owls, then. Anyone can use them," said Hermione.
They went up to the Owlery. Hermione gave Harry a piece of parchment, a quill and a bottle of ink, then strolled around the long lines of perches, looking at all the different owls, while Harry sat down against a wall and wrote his letter.
Dear Sirius,
You told me to keep you posted on what's happening at Hogwarts, so here goes – I don't know if you've heard, but the Triwizard Tournament's happening this year and on Saturday night, I got picked as a fourth champion. I don't know who put my name in the Goblet of Fire because I didn't. The other Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff. Hope you're OK, and Buckbeak – Harry.
"Finished," he told Hermione, getting to his feet and brushing straw off his robes. At this, Hedwig came fluttering down onto his shoulder, and held out her leg.
"I can't use you," Harry told her, looking around for the school owls. "I've got to use one of these."
Hedwig gave a very loud hoot and soared up into the rafters out of reach. "First Ron, then you," said Harry angrily. "This isn't my fault."