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'I can't believe you didn't tell me where you were going! What if something happened to you?' Sam hissed at him as the golden plates shimmered away from sight with the remains of the feast.
'It was just a few hours, I'm fine, see!' Danny gestured to himself, 'Nothing happened!'
Sam didn't seem happy with his response, turning away to watch Dumbledore as he wandered down next to the goblet as it flicked its burning tongue out. Danny rolled his eyes and turned to watch the rest of the room. On the far side of the table sat the Weasley twins, speaking animatedly with Lee Jordan who was laughing good-naturedly at a boy sitting beside him with a messy mop of black hair and round-rimmed glasses. Danny peered closer — was that...? It couldn't be, surely...
Dumbledore strode forward and the room fell into silence. With a wave of his wand, the candles extinguished, leaving only the flickering blue-white flames of the cup as a source of light from where it loomed over them in the centre of the room. Deep shadows crept their way into the hall like spiders, moving silently through the near darkness, bearing down on them as the minutes ticked by.
The goblet's flames turned into a deep red, spitting embers furiously and a flower of fire burst out, propelling a charred and blackened piece of parchment out of the cup. Dumbledore snatched it out of the air, carefully smoothing and holding it out to read in the goblet's light, which had reverted back to its previous colouring.
'The champion for Durmstrang,' the Headmaster's voice bounced off the dark walls with an echo, 'Will be Viktor Krum!' hearty roars erupted from the Slytherin table as the rest of the Hall followed with boisterous applause.
Danny winced at the loud roar that Dash and his friends released at this announcement, frantically cheering as their favourite quidditch player stepped onto the stage with a lacklustre expression. Dumbledore waved him towards a door off to the side and the boy stepped obediently through.
The roomed quietened again as the goblet flared up again, spitting out a new sheet of parchment. Snatching it, Dumbledore announced, 'The champion for Beauxbaton is Fleur Delacour.'
There was more excited clapping from around the room, and Danny was not surprised to see that most of it came from the boys. Danny watched, feeling a little entranced, as Fleur flounced over to the Headmaster. Sam slapped his arm sharply when he let out a forlorn sigh.
The room turned red a third time as the cup sparked, spitting out another scrap for Dumbledore's patient hand, "The champion for Hogwarts is Cedric Diggory!"
Cedric's friends shook him good-naturedly as applause rang throughout the hall again. He boldly walked up to the headmaster and shook his hand, giving a soft bow of his head as he turned to head through the proffered door.
When the room was quiet once again, Dumbledore approached the cup; it seemed to be deliberating. Large blue flames erupting from its mouth only to die down just as quickly – sparks hissed angrily before the fire sputtered and went out completely. Whispers filled the darkened hall as students turned to each other, mutterings of confusion saturating the room.
Dumbledore reached out for the extinguished chalice with a deep frown, gingerly grazing his fingers over the wooden casting, only to quickly stagger back as the goblet once again flared to life. The fire had turned a sickening green as the cup shot out a fireball, soaring over ten feet high with a roar. Students screamed as the room was illuminated in green. A small, scorched piece of parchment flew out of the flames, fluttering whimsically back down to earth as the fire tumbled back into the chalice, flaring brightly once more before returning to its customary blue-white. Danny watched with a sense of dread pooling in the pot of his stomach.
Dumbledore tentatively grabbed the parchment, holding it out in front of himself, "The Champion for Casper," the Headmaster cleared his throat. Danny saw Dash from across the table, already standing up with a proud smirk as Paulina and the others grinned up at him, "is Daniel Fenton."
Tentative applause echoed through the room. Danny sat, feeling a little shocked before Sam turned to him, almost impatiently, 'Well? What are you sitting here for, get up there!'
With a shove, Danny stumbled from his seat. He wandered his way nervously to the front, ignoring the furious looks of Dash Baxter and his cronies as they glared when he walked past, making his way up to Dumbledore who eyed him curiously. Embarrassed and a little dumbfounded, Danny lowered his gaze and made directly for the door the other champions had disappeared through and slipped inside.
A fire crackled cheerily, spreading a yellow warmth throughout the room. Leaning up against the mantle stood Cedric who was trying desperately to hold a conversation with Fleur and Krum.
'Fenton!' Cedric bellowed, sounding almost relieved, 'Don't tell me you're Casper's champion? What are the odds? Potions partners and now this!'
Danny gave him a weak smile as he made his way over to the mantle, 'Seems that way.'
'You must be excited,' Fleur said in a thick accent, sounding more than a little miffed that he was there, 'To be ze fourth champion — eet ees quite a legacy.' Krum simply grunted, Danny couldn't help but silently agree with him.
The door behind them creaked and suddenly the room seemed to both darken and brighten at the same time. Danny's sight tunnelled intensely into the fire, watching every flame flicker with a sharpened tongue, the yellow roiling into red. His skin prickled as if he had been doused in an ice-bath and his muscles twitched furiously throughout his frame. He had felt this feeling once before. Back when he...
Turning slowly, Danny was surprised to find Harry Potter — the Boy-Who-Lived — looking nervously at them all congregated around the fire. Danny had heard rumours that he attended the school, but didn't actually believe them. He was a lot less impressive in person, short and scrawny with a mess of black hair and round glasses. The infamous scar sat gashed across his forehead like a lightning bolt. Something twinged painfully in Danny's brain at the sight of it.
'Vot ees it?' Danny snapped from his thoughts as Fleur strode forward, brushing back her long silvery hair with an impatient huff, 'Do zey want us back in ze Hall?'
Harry didn't say anything, instead choosing to stare at them in a rather gormless manner that left Danny raising his eyebrows at him. The door was pushed open again.
'Extraordinary!' Burst out Ludo Bagman as he barged into the room, 'Absolutely extraordinary! You truly are remarkable, Harry, my boy,' he announced in wonderment, squeezing the boy's arm cheerily, ignoring the way he was fruitlessly trying to pull himself out of the ministry official's grip. Danny glanced over to see Fleur and Krum glaring contemptuously at Harry, even Cedric stood with a small frown.
'But surely zere is a mistake, Meester Bagman,' Fleur announced, her mouth a harsh line, 'Eet should be impossible for someone as young as 'e to compete. Zee rules—'
'The rules about the age limit have only been instated this year as a safety precaution, really. They're sort of… 'off to the side' you can say, Miss Delacour. There aren't any actual rules in the Tournament guidelines saying that Harry here can't compete. So, I suppose… With his name coming out of the goblet… I mean, the age limit was never officially… Harry will have to compete, considering—'
The door to the chamber swung open a third time, and a rather unorthodox group barged their way through.
Dumbledore headed through the door first, his expression unreadable, quickly followed by Mr. Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor Lancer, Professor McGonagall, and Snape. A wave of noise rushed into the room as the whispers of hundreds of students just outside the door before it was firmly shut.
'Madame Maxime!' Fleur cried as she rushed over to her Headmistress, 'Zey are saying zat zey are actually going to allow zat little boy to compete against us!'
'Sonnets of a Sorcerer, Dumbledore!' Professor Lancer's neck was quickly becoming redder and redder, 'Are you trying to play us a fool? Two champions? I understand that Casper is new to the Tournament, but that doesn't give you the right to treat us like imbeciles!' The bald man's pale blue robes swished fervently at his feet and Danny could see his tie had been crinkled beyond repair by his anxious act of wringing.
'Zat is exactly what we are also thinking, Dumbly-dorr,' Madame Maxime had raised herself to her impressive height, the top of her head grazing the embezzled chandelier as her black silk-covered bosom swelled indignantly.
'I was fairly certain that the Tournament rules stated that each school is only allowed one champion, Dumbledore. Or have we all been misreading them the past few centuries?' Karkaroff asked smarmily, moving to stand beside Krum from where he glowered.
Professor Lancer nodded, 'I think I speak for everyone that we were also under the impression that your age-line would have kept under-aged students from entering the competition. If I had known it was a hoax to give your students the upper hand, I would have had a much broader range of candidates enter, and Casper might have actually found a champion capable of winning. No offence, Mr. Fenton.'
Danny couldn't stop the shallow growl that echoed from his throat, his head was starting to ache like a migraine was settling in. Cedric jumped slightly from his spot next to him, rubbing at his arms like he'd gotten a chill.
'Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's blatant frivolity with school rules, Lancer. It's no one's fault but the boy's own. Potter has made a nasty habit of trying to break as many as he can while attending Hogwarts,' Snape's dark, hate-filled eyes swivelled onto Harry, 'He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived—'
'That's enough, Severus,' Dumbledore said firmly. Snape fell quiet, but still stared intently at the boy through greasy black locks.
Dumbledore turned to Harry, his face filled with curiosity rather than the malice the other heads directed his way, 'Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire, Harry?' The Headmaster asked evenly.
'No,' Harry replied immediately. Danny watched with intense curiosity at the way he wrung his wrists. He looked especially small surrounded by the team of witches and wizards and more than a little intimidated.
'Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?' Dumbledore continued as if he hadn't heard Snape.
'No,' Harry said.
'Eet is obvious 'e is lying! Why do you insist on playing zis game with ze child?' Madame Maxime burst out, her arms curled protectively around her student as if Harry was suddenly going to lash out at them, 'Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake with ze age-line—'
'Dumbledore has made no mistakes, I can promise you,' Professor McGonagall said crossly, 'Really, this is utter nonsense! There is no possible way for Harry to have crossed the line himself, and Dumbledore trusts him enough to believe that he did not ask another student to help him. I'm certain that should be more than adequate proof for everyone else!' she sent Snape a pointed look.
'Mr. Crouch… Mr. Bagman, surely you have something to say about this situation?' Karkaroff asked smoothly, his demeanour seemingly calm.
Danny turned to where Mr. Crouch stood by the far wall, his face half-concealed in shadows, making his already skinny and gaunt face seem almost skeletal. His thin moustache twitched, 'We must abide by the rules written. The boy's name was officially announced by the Goblet of Fire, thus binding him to the competition. The age limit does not apply.'
'Surely you must be joking?' Lancer said disbelieved, turning to Bagman.
Bagman grinned boyishly before admitting, 'Well, I'm pretty sure Barty considers the Triwizard – er, I mean Tetrawizard rulebook to be in his collection of bedside reading. He knows them a lot better than me.'
Karkaroff's face dropped all illusions of judiciousness, twisting into an ugly scowl, 'Then I must insist that the names be resubmitted for the grounds to be even. Set up the goblet again until the rest of us have two champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore.'
'But, Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that!' cried Bagman, 'The Goblet's already put itself out – it won't be able to be lit until the next Tournament—'
'—Of which Casper will not be partaking in!' ground out Lancer, 'This was supposed to station the alliance between our schools, Dumbledore. After all the work we have placed into forming this union… well, if this is the standard that you treat your guests, then perhaps it would be better if we just leave!'
'Empty threat, Lancer,' a gruff voice called out from near the door, 'You can't just leave your student here – he has to compete now. Binding magical contract and all that – same reason Potter's stuck competing too. Convenient, eh?'
Moody limped his way into the room, heading for the fire. Every second step he took made a resounding thunk.
'Convenient? I'm afraid I don't know what you're saying, Moody,' Karkaroff spat, looking like he was trying to intimidate the ex-Auror, yet his hands shook violently.
Moody's lopsided mouth looked almost sickening in the firelight as he sneered, 'Don't you? It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's name in the cup for him, knowing that if he was chosen, he'd be forced to compete.'
'Eet sounds like someone wanted to give 'Ogwarts two bites at ze apple,' said Madame Maxime.
'Quite right, Madame,' Karkaroff snapped his robe's cuffs at Moody, before bowing to the gigantic woman with a flourish, 'In fact, I shall be complaining of this downright flamboyant act of ill-sportsmanship to both the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards—'
'If anybody's got a reason to complain, it's Potter,' Moody barked out, 'But funnily enough… I haven't heard him say a word.'
'And why should 'e?' Fleur huffed, stamping her foot dramatically, ''E 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e? We 'ave been waiting for weeks for zis opportunity. Fame… fortune – zis is a chance people would die for!'
Danny rolled his eyes in annoyance, the pounding in his head reaching an all-time high with each rising decibel, 'Let him have a go.'
'Wh-what?' Karkaroff sputtered. Madame Maxime gaped at Danny as if he had personally insulted her.
Lancer spoke up, using his ruined tie to mop at his forehead, 'Mr. Fenton, I don't think you're in a position to say anything on the subject—'
'Why not? If we know the rules can't be changed, why make such a fuss over it? Give the kid a break,' Danny said simply, ignoring the Beauxbatons' outraged cries and Karkaroff's irate squawk. He turned to Harry, 'You're like what, grade four?'
Harry nodded, looking at him oddly, 'Y-yeah. I'm a fourth year.'
Danny grinned mischievously at Lancer and the others, 'You'd be surprised what someone can do at fourteen, Professors. I say let him try out.'
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Cedric gave a small grin as Danny dropped his bag next to him, sliding into his seat in the Potions classroom. 'Morning, sunshine. I can see you've already had your morning cup of pumpkin juice. Ready for the wand weighing this afternoon?'
Danny grunted in reply, he couldn't ignore the dark circles that sat heavily under his eyes. The burden of his responsibilities were starting to weigh heavy on his mind, and the twinging in his brain refused to let up. Carelessly he yanked his Potions book out of his bag, sending an inkwell tumbling to the ground to smash across the cold pavestones.
Snape, who had been standing impatiently by the door of the dungeons, snapped at Danny, 'Clean that up! You would think that a Tetrawizard Champion would have at least some sense of competency.'
Cedric swooped down, kindly casting a quick'Scourgify'. A pair of Ravenclaw girls fell into a bout of giggles, sneaking glances every so often at the pair. Danny frowned, confused.
'Thanks,' he eventually muttered to Cedric who pulled out his own textbook. 'What's with them?'
'Don't worry about it.' Cedric said, 'They've been acting weird since the champions were announced. Most of Hogwarts has. Even my dad's been acting a little looney since I told him,' he gave a fond chuckle, 'Won't stop bragging about it to anyone who'd listen. What'd your family say?'
'I haven't told them.' Danny admitted, a sick feeling of guilt pooling in his stomach. He hadn't even told his parents that Hogwarts was even hosting a tournament.
'What? You didn't tell them? Merlin's beard, if I was you I'd be shouting it to the world! The first Casper champion to ever—!'
'No offence, Diggory,' Danny bit out harshly, 'But I'd really appreciate some quiet. I've got enough going on already without having Snape breathing down my neck because you're jabbering away next to me.'
Cedric seemed put-out, slipping off his chair to head to the storerooms to gather the potion ingredients without a word. Danny couldn't bring himself to care, pinching the bridge of his nose, the dull thudding in his head hadn't let up for days, not since the announcement of the champions. The pair of Ravenclaws who had giggled at him now sent him dirty looks before turning to the front of the class.
He got his wish for quiet, Cedric barely looked in his direction for the rest of class except to silently hand him ingredients. Before he knew it, Snape had dismissed them with a curt sneer and Danny left the classroom feeling more than a little guilty as Cedric swept out of the room to catch up with his friends, not even saying goodbye to him — not that he deserved it.
In truth, Danny didn't know how he was going to explain the Tetrawizard Tournament to his parents. All they knew was that he was on exchange to another magical school. Magic was always something that, while his parents were proud, they never fully understood or really trusted. His sister was usually the one that cheered him on whenever he learnt a complex spell or mastered a difficult potion.
Stepping out of the darkened dungeons, he made his way through the Entrance Hall and up the stairwell. He had spotted a high tower on the west of the castle where the owls resided, homesickness flooded him. He missed his dad's rambunctiousness, his mum's optimism, Tucker's laidback attitude, and even his sister's near-constant nagging. He followed the curves of the castle, slipping through secret corridors and – when no one was looking – through the solid walls until he reached a narrow staircase that looped upwards.
The room he found himself in was tall and narrow, thick wooden beams were etched into the curved stone as curious owls of all shapes and sizes stared down at him with unblinking eyes, swivelling their heads to follow his path. He spotted a particularly focused snowy owl that screeched angrily at him.
A narrow window ledge offered Danny a seat. Pulling out a parchment and quill, he settled himself down on the ledge staring out the window at an aggressively shaking whomping willow that was trying to shake off its remaining autumn leaves. It was peaceful here, despite all the turmoil roiling through his brain. For the first time since he arrived Danny felt like he could breathe. High up here he couldn't feel the pressure in his head or his skin crawling. Something about Hogwarts made him feel unnerved, like an impending doom was washing over him, but every turn he took he couldn't find anything wrong. It was driving him mad.
A familiar white owl fluttered down next to him, tossing its head proudly, 'Spooky!' Danny cried with a grin, "When did you get here?"
Spooky gave a soft hoot as he proffered his leg. An envelope was tied haphazardly to it like the writer wasn't entirely sure how to secure it to the bird. The envelope was stark-white with crisp, pressed edges compared to the thick parchment letters that the other owls carried and, much to Danny's amusement, was sealed with a postage stamp featuring a glowing cartoon ghost.
With a quick scritch under the owl's chin, Danny tugged the letter free, eyeing the familiar handwriting of his sister Jazz. Spooky took the opportunity to waddle up his arm to balance on his shoulder and nibble on the shell of his ear, cooing happily.
Hi, little brother,
It's me, Jazz. Obviously – who else would be calling you little brother? And this is clearly my handwriting, not that you were ever one for details...
I'm just writing to let you know that I'll be heading back to Princeton tomorrow. I've signed myself up for an additional three elective classes because I was just so excited about completing my psyche thesis, you remember I had to start from scratch after that disaster in my evaluation of my gender studies classmates last year. Six of them got arrested for disorderly conduct! Only two were prosecuted though.
Mum and dad both miss you, they keep saying that the house seems so much quieter – the only exciting thing that's happened in the past week was mum weaponising the toaster oven and dad nearly blasted the postman after he mistook him for a ghost – you think they'd get the gist of Halloween costumes by now. Tucker also wanted me to pass on a message to say he's borrowing your scooter while you're gone. Also that Spooky bit him, but honestly I think he deserved it.
I hope you're having an amazing time and making heaps of new friends! And don't forget to take actual notes in class!
Write to us, okay? We miss you. Life just isn't the same without you constantly complaining about it.
Jazz
Danny couldn't stop the smile that inched its way across his face – all the tension of the last week seemed to rush out of him like a waterfall. Even thousands of miles away from him Jazz knew exactly what to say to calm him down, however unintentional. He could do without the nagging though.
Digging through his bag, he carefully pulled out the inkwell Cedric had magicked back together. A chord of guilt struck him as he dipped a quill into it; Cedric deserved an apology at the very least; he hadn't done anything but try to be Danny's friend after all. As if Spooky had read his thoughts, she gave his shoulder a soft pinch of camaraderie before shoving off to glide down next to an elegant-looking snowy owl with golden eyes.
'Thanks, Spooky.' he muttered fondly, as he leant against the window ledge to draft a reply.
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