A fair portion of this chapter is copied from JKR's GOF.
Review reply for a guest reviewer: Things stay at least loosely canon-ish until the third task before diverging.
"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, two seats away from Harry.
The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. 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.
Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white.
"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum. "
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!"
"Well I suppose that solves that riddle." Harry mumbled as he began to clap along with everyone else. Hermione shot him a questioning look so he continued. "I wanted to learn her name because referring to her as 'veela-girl' didn't seem right." She accepted his answer with a small nod before turning their attention away.
"Oh look, they're all disappointed," Hermione said over the noise, nodding toward the remainder of the Beauxbatons party. "Disappointed" was a bit of an understatement, Harry thought. A few of the girls who had not been selected had dissolved into tears and were sobbing with their heads on their arms.
When Fleur Delacour too had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement you could almost taste it. The Hogwarts champion 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!"
"No! " The Twins yelled out, but nobody heard them except Harry; the uproar from the next table was too great. Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly, and headed off toward the chamber behind the teachers' table. Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again.
Harry actually felt a wave of relief wash over him when Cedric's name came out. Trouble seemed to gravitate around him and unfortune loved to strike at every given chance. Part of him assumed fate would shit his name from the goblet just for giggles so he was pleasantly surprised now.
"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down. "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 Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him.
The fire in the goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.
"Son of a bitch." Harry muttered as he prepared for the worst. He had counted his eggs before they hatched, it seemed.
Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out -
"The champion for Ambrosia Magical Academy is… Harry Potter. "
Somewhere deep inside Harry knew it was coming but there was still an inkling of hope that he was wrong. Hearing his name made it final. Harry slammed his head into the table. "Shit!"
"Mr. Potter." Dumbledore said a little louder but still in an even tone. Harry was still sitting with his head pressed into the hard wood of the table, keeping him from seeing the looks directed his way; some envious, some angry, and even some pity mostly from those closest to him that knew he didn't desire to enter the tournament.
After a moment, before Dumbledore had a chance to call again though, Harry stood up. It was now that he could see the stares and wished he could shrink away to nothing.
As he got closer to Dumbledore, who was looking at him with an unreadable expression, he stated simply. "This must be a mistake Professor; I didn't enter my name into the goblet."
Dumbledore waited until Harry was right beside him and replied softly. "I'm sorry my boy, but the goblet doesn't make mistakes. We must proceed with you as a champion for the time being until we learn more."
Harry only nodded and walked out the Great Hall with Dumbledore as the murmuring grew louder behind him.
"How'dee do it?" One of the twins asked excitedly as he slid down into the seat Harry was previously occupying.
"He didn't." Hermione said flatly. "You heard him say that didn't want the trouble."
The other twin now piped in, propped against Hermione's shoulder. "Damn right, Ickle Harrikans pulled a fast one on us. Didn't suspect a thing!"
"Now spill it, how'd he get his name in?" They said together.
"I'm telling you he didn't go near the goblet!" Hermione replied forcefully now, attracting even more attention. She hadn't noticed until then that the noise around her had stopped as people listed to her for news on Harry since she was his best friend.
"That's a load of hippogriff shit! I knew Potter couldn't stand it, he just must be the center of attention." Someone called out from a nearby table.
"Yeah, couldn't stand letting someone else steal the spotlight for once could he?"
Hermione pressed her face into her hands. This was not good.
Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory, and Fleur Delacour were grouped around the fire. They looked strangely impressive, silhouetted against the flames. Krum, hunched-up and brooding, was leaning against the mantelpiece, slightly apart from the other two. Cedric was standing with his hands behind his back, staring into the fire. Fleur Delacour looked around when Harry walked in and threw back her sheet of long, silvery hair.
"What is it?" she said. "Do zey want us back in ze Hall?"
She thought he had come to deliver a message. Harry didn't know how to explain what had just happened. He just shook his head as he stared past them at the wall. It struck him how very tall all of them were.
There was a sound of scurrying feet behind him, and Ludo Bagman entered the room. He took Harry by the arm and led him forward.
"Extraordinary!" he muttered, squeezing Harry's arm. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen. . . lady," he added, approaching the fireside and addressing the other three. "May I introduce - incredible though it may seem - the fourth Triwizard champion, from Ambrosia Magical Academy?"
Viktor Krum straightened up. His surly face darkened as he surveyed Harry. Cedric looked nonplussed. He looked from Bagman to Harry and back again as though sure he must have misheard what Bagman had said. Fleur Delacour, however, tossed her hair, smiling, and said, "Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman. "
"Joke?" Bagman repeated, bewildered. "No, no, not at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"
Krum's thick eyebrows contracted slightly. Cedric was still looking politely bewildered. Fleur frowned.
"But evidently zair 'as been a mistake," she said contemptuously to Bagman. "'E cannot compete. 'E is too young. "
"Well. . . it is amazing," said Bagman, rubbing his smooth chin and smiling down at Harry. "But, as you know, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as his name's come out of the goblet. . . I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage. . . . It's down in the rules, you're obliged. . . Harry will just have to do the best he -"
The door behind them opened again, and a large group of people came in: Professor Dumbledore, followed closely by Mr. Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape. Harry heard the buzzing of the hundreds of students on the other side of the wall, before Professor McGonagall closed the door.
"Madame Maxime!" said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. "Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!"
Somewhere under Harry's numb disbelief he felt a ripple of anger. Little boy? "I am not just a little boy!"
Fleur reeled back at the venom in his voice, but before either had a chance to continue Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full, and considerable, height. The top of her handsome head brushed the candle-filled chandelier, and her gigantic black-satin bosom swelled.
"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" she said imperiously.
"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," said Professor Karkaroff. He was wearing a steely smile, and his blue eyes were like chips of ice. "Two Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions - or have I not read the rules carefully enough?"
He gave a short and nasty laugh.
"C'est impossible," said Madame Maxime, whose enormous hand with its many superb opals was resting upon Fleur's shoulder. "'Ogwarts cannot 'ave two champions. It is most injust. "
"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, his steely smile still in place, though his eyes were colder than ever. "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools. "
"Mr. Potter says he did not enter his name, and I am inclined to believe him. Furthermore, Mr. Potter's name came from the goblet as a selection of this 'Ambrosia Magical Academy', though I have never heard of such a school, he is therefore not considered a champion of Hogwarts where the tournament is concerned.
"And you believe his lies? How else would he be standing here if he had not entered his name?" Karkaroff shot out with malice clear in his voice.
"It's no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff," said Snape softly. His black eyes were alight with malice. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here -"
"You shut your merlin-be-damned mouth you-" Harry started yelling but was quickly silenced by Professor McGonagall while Dumbledore bound Snape to his spot to keep him from retaliating.
"That will be quite enough, Severus," said Dumbledore firmly, and Snape went quiet, though his eyes still glinted malevolently through his curtain of greasy black hair.
Professor Dumbledore was now looking down at Harry, who looked right back at him, trying to discern the expression of the eyes behind the half-moon spectacles.
"Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" he asked calmly as he undid the silencing charm.
"No, sir." said Harry. He was very aware of everybody watching him closely. Snape made a soft noise of impatient disbelief in the shadows.
"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" said Professor Dumbledore, ignoring Snape.
"No, sir." said Harry vehemently.
"Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" cried Madame Maxime. Snape was now shaking his head, his lip curling.
"He could not have crossed the Age Line," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "I am sure we are all agreed on that -"
"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line," said Madame Maxime, shrugging.
"It is possible, of course," said Dumbledore politely.
"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" said Professor McGonagall angrily. "Really, what nonsense! Harry could not have crossed the line himself, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that he did not persuade an older student to do it for him, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!"
She shot a very angry look at Professor Snape.
"Mr. Crouch. . . Mr. Bagman," said Karkaroff, his voice unctuous once more, "you are our - er - objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?"
Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief and looked at Mr. Crouch, who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half hidden in shadow. He looked slightly eerie, the half-darkness making him look much older, giving him an almost skull-like appearance. When he spoke, however, it was in his usual curt voice.
"We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound magically to compete in the tournament. To not allow Mr. Potter to compete would be putting his magic and even his life at risk."
"Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front," said Bagman, beaming and turning back to Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, as though the matter was now closed.
"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," said Karkaroff. He had dropped his unctuous tone and his smile now. His face wore a very ugly look indeed. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore. "
"But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that. One champion from each school." said Bagman. "As Albus has once said, Mr. Potter wasn't chosen by the cup as a competitor of Hogwarts. The goblet made it's decision and has extinguished itself; it won't light again until the next tri-err quadwizard tournament."
"- in which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" exploded Karkaroff. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"
"Empty threat, Karkaroff," growled a voice from near the door. "You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"
Moody had just entered the room. He limped toward the fire, and with every right step he took, there was a loud clunk.
"Convenient?" said Karkaroff. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody. "
Harry could tell he was trying to sound disdainful, as though what Moody was saying was barely worth his notice, but his hands gave him away; they had balled themselves into fists.
"Don't you?" said Moody quietly. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's name in that goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out. "
"Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give 'Ogwarts two bites at ze apple!" said Madame Maxime.
"I quite agree, Madame Maxime," said Karkaroff, bowing to her. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards -"
"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter," growled Moody, "but. . . funny thing. . . I don't hear him saying a god damn thing. . . "
"Why should 'e complain?" burst out Fleur Delacour, stamping her foot. "'E 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money - zis is a chance many would die for!"
"I've more fame and honor than I ever wanted and more money than I could spend in a hundred lifetimes, I don't give a damn about those things!" Harry said shortly, he was quite agitated with the accusations.
"Maybe someone's hoping Potter is going to die for it," said Moody, with the merest trace of a growl.
An extremely tense silence followed these words. Ludo Bagman, who was looking very anxious indeed, bounced nervously up and down on his feet and said, "Moody, old man. . . what a thing to say!"
"We all know Professor Moody considers the morning wasted if he hasn't discovered six plots to murder him before lunchtime," said Karkaroff loudly. "Apparently he is now teaching his students to fear assassination too. An odd quality in a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Dumbledore, but no doubt you had your reasons.
"Imagining things, am I?" growled Moody. "Seeing things, eh? It was a skilled witch or wizard who put the boy's name in that goblet. . . "
"Ah, what evidence is zere of zat?" said Madame Maxime, throwing up her huge hands.
"Because they hoodwinked a very powerful magical object!" said Moody. "It would have needed an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to bamboozle that goblet into forgetting that only three schools compete in the tournament. . . . submitted Potter's name under a fourth school, to make sure he was the only one in his category. . . . "
"You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Moody," said Karkaroff coldly, "and a very ingenious theory it is - though of course, I heard you recently got it into your head that one of your birthday presents contained a cunningly disguised basilisk egg, and smashed it to pieces before realizing it was a carriage clock. So you'll understand if we don't take you entirely seriously. . . . "
"There are those who'll turn innocent occasions to their advantage," Moody retorted in a menacing voice. "It's my job to think the way Dark wizards do, Karkaroff - as you ought to remember. . .
"Alastor!" said Dumbledore warningly. Harry wondered for a moment whom he was speaking to, but then realized "Mad-Eye" could hardly be Moody's real first name. Moody fell silent, though still surveying Karkaroff with satisfaction - Karkaroff's face was burning.
"How this situation arose, we do not know," said Dumbledore, speaking to everyone gathered in the room. "It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Cedric and Harry have been chosen to compete in the Tournament. This, therefore, they will do. . . . "
"Ah, but Dumbly-dorr -"
"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, I would be delighted to hear it. "
Dumbledore waited, but Madame Maxime did not speak, she merely glared. She wasn't the only one either. Snape looked furious; Karkaroff livid; Bagman, however, looked rather excited.
"Well, shall we crack on, then?" he said, rubbing his hands together and smiling around the room. "Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honors?"
Mr. Crouch seemed to come out of a deep reverie.
"Yes," he said, "instructions. Yes. . . the first task. . . "
He moved forward into the firelight. Close up, Harry thought he looked ill. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and a thin, papery look about his wrinkled skin that had not been there at the Quidditch World Cup.
"The first task is designed to test your daring," he told Harry, Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor, "so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard. . . very important. . . ."
When the meeting inside the antechamber was done, Harry was asked to stay behind for a moment. Once everyone save Dumbledore, Crouch, Bagman, and Harry had left Dumbledore once again spoke.
"Harry, as the law was written to state that only wizards considered to be adults could compete and the goblet selected you, you have now been legally emancipated. What this means, is that you are now considered an adult in the eyes of the law. You will have access to your entire Gringotts vault and inheritance, as well as your seat on the Wizengamot which you are entitled to as the now Lord of an Ancient and Noble house. We shall arrange a trip to London at our earliest convenience to stamp out the details. Also due to the fact that you are legally of age now, you have the right to take your O.W.L.s at any time and stop attending school, though I would advise against that; you must still compete in the tournament at either rate."
"Yes, sir. I think it prudent that I stay at Hogwarts. I don't think that this should change anything right now."
"Ahh, yes yes. We can discuss the matters further at a later time, for now I think you have company anxiously awaiting you outside."
Harry stepped back into the Great Hall only to be immediately whisked away by several figures. He was able to discern Hermione, Fred and George, and maybe Neville. He could hear yelling from behind him, but the group didn't allow him a chance to focus on it long. They push/dragged him well out of the Great Hall before letting him walk under his own power while surrounding him as they guided him towards the Gryffindor common room.
When they finally had him in the room and seated his frustration boiled over. "Why the bloody hell did you drag me away from the Great Hall?"
"Because Harry, there are a lot of people who don't feel like you erm… earned a spot in the tournament. They-"
"That's hippogriff shit and you all know it!" Harry exploded once again. His nerves were just about shot.
"That's exactly why we brought you here to friendly territory mate. Right lot of arseholes out there and we didn't want you hexing someone and getting expelled." Fred or George said.
"Maybe it'll be better in the morning. I think a fair piece of them are just jealous that you beat the age line when we couldn't."
"I didn't beat shit though! I. Did. Not. Enter. My. Name."
Hermione spoke up once again. "We believe you Harry, but they don't. The rumors are already nasty and we didn't want you to deal with that when you have so much going on already."