Hope everyone is having an enjoyable holiday! Looking forward to seeing you all in the New Year's!

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His expression suddenly shifted back to George, eyebrows raised in surprise, a look of mock horror on his face. "What if Percy's actually been pulling a fast one on us this whole time? What if, underneath that pratty façade of his, he's less of a … well less of a Percy and more of a fun loving little rascal? And he has been fooling everyone this entire time?" With that he paused and waggled his eyebrows for effect..

Their laughter filled the air as they entertained the thought, enjoying the shared moment of amusement at Percy's expense. After the laughter subsided, the twins rose from their seats, patting Ron on the back before bidding their goodbyes to head out of the Great Hall, letting Harry and Ron know they were heading to the Hospital Wing.

Upon completing their meal, Harry and Ron spent the bulk of their afternoon in the company of what he was pretty sure was most of the Hogwarts students, including Hermione who eventually joined them sometime after the departure of the twins. They found themselves sitting in the Entrance Hall and they observed students from all three of the wizarding schools placing their names into the illustrious Goblet of Fire.

They made sure to cheer loudly almost every time a student from Hogwarts popped by to enter their name, some Slytherin students were met with awkward silence as they approached the Goblet. And often their cheering was accompanied by laughter as friends eagerly propelled their peers toward the Goblet. Contrary to the most of the Hogwarts students in the Hall, Harry found himself among the select few who applauded when students from other schools also took their turn.

Upon the initial time Harry had applauded for a Beauxbatons student, Ron couldn't help but react. "What's gotten into you, mate?" He expressed his surprise. "They're not even from Hogwarts! Do you even know them?"

Harry chuckled softly, casting a knowing glance at Ron. "I get it, Ron, they're not from our school," he began, his tone light but sincere. "But think about it … this tournament is all about bridging gaps between different wizarding schools. What these students are doing, entering into this, it's quite remarkable." Leaning in slightly, he emphasized, "Dumbledore made it pretty clear that this competition won't be a walk in the park. It's going to be intense and likely incredibly risky. I'm pretty certain anyone putting their name in knows they're taking a huge chance."

His eyes shifted to Hermione, who nodded in agreement before he redirected his focus to Ron, a gentle smile forming on his lips. "Hermione's probably already devoured every bit of information about past tournaments. She could likely tell us stories of all the dangerous tasks and horrors that students faced in the past. And I'd wager most of these entrants have done their homework … maybe not to Hermione's level … but I am pretty sure they are aware of the potential risks involved if they are chosen for their schools."

He drew in a deep breath, his gaze fixed on yet another Beauxbatons student hesitantly approaching the daunting Goblet of Fire. Harry couldn't help but offer a round of applause as the name found its place within the enchanted cup, among all the others. With a playful grin directed at Ron, he resumed their conversation, "Sure, when it comes to the tournament itself, my loyalty lies with Hogwarts, no question … well unless a Slytherin is picked. But let's face it, all these students stepping up are displaying real courage. And the Gryffindor in me can't help but appreciate that," he concluded, a chuckle punctuating his words.

Hermione affirmed Harry's attitude with a nod, her smile reflecting genuine admiration. "Harry, that's an admirable perspective. It's ..." She paused momentarily, her gaze meeting his, "it's truly mature of you." Turning towards Ron, she continued, "And he's right, Ron. Historically, this tournament has been riddled with peril. It's a wonder it wasn't discontinued earlier. I honestly can't understand how … or why Dumbledore chose to reinstate it. There are certainly safer and more constructive means to promote the growth of relationships between magical schools."

Ron hesitated, seemingly torn between responding and staying silent. He glanced back and forth between Harry and Hermione, his expression a mix of contemplation and uncertainty.

Later on, Harry couldn't help but observe that although Ron might not have shown the same level of enthusiasm as him or Hermione, he, in his own way, joined in the applause, to acknowledge the students from the other schools as they entered their names into the competition, albeit perhaps a touch less enthusiastic compared to his companions.

As the evening meal approached, they made their way back to their common room, depositing the books they'd used to help pass the time in the Entrance Hall while waiting to see who would be the next to enter the competition.

On their return journey to the Great Hall for supper, Harry found that their path was obstructed by an unusual sight at the entrance … an incredibly large figure emitting a pungent odor. The blockage, clothed in an egregiously hairy brown suit matched with an orange-and-yellow tie, stood before them, startling Harry with his appalling fashion sense.

Hagrid stood squarely in the doorway, a towering presence unaware of the growing cluster of students gathering behind him. In response to the laughter sparked by his words to Madame Maxime, he guffawed heartily, his broad hands gesturing enthusiastically toward the disproportionately large pumpkins adorning the Entrance Hall.

Harry attempted to peer past a particularly large Durmstrang student obstructing his view, a figure resembling, if only at least physically, a blend between Crabbe and a walking boulder. Despite the obstacle, he couldn't help but overhear Hagrid's thunderous response to Madame Maxime's query, his voice easily resonating throughout the room.

"Aye, they are all naturally grown, they are. Not a single bit of spellwork," Hagrid declared proudly. "The real secret lies in the fertilizer. I've made a special blend using plants I got from the Forbidden Forest, but the secret ingredient … the manure from the Hippogriffs and Thestrals I look after here at Hogwarts." His tone brimmed with evident satisfaction over his accomplishment.

Madame Maxime's gaze shifted towards Hagrid, her expression a blend of surprise and admiration. "You tend to Thestrals and Hippogriffs? That's truly remarkable, Monsieur Hagrid. I must say, I'm thoroughly impressed. Perhaps my concerns for our Abraxans were unfounded; you certainly seem more than a little capable."

Hagrid, visibly touched by the compliment, began to respond, his cheeks flushing with a deep hue. However, his words were swiftly drowned out by the loud whisper of the Crabbe-like Durmstrang student in front of him, who leaned over to his companion with a disdainful tone.

"This has got to be the most revolting sight I've ever witnessed. I can't fathom how such ... individuals are allowed to exist. And yet, here they are, engaging in ... whatever this is supposed to be. I can't watch. I am worried if this continues any longer this will ruin my appetite," the Durmstrang student muttered disapprovingly. "Which is a real shame as Worthington said that the Holiday feasts are probably the only decent thing about this school."

His friend's obnoxious laughter grated on Harry's nerves, and he felt the surge of anger rising within him at the disrespectful remarks aimed at Hagrid. Before Harry was able to respond, the first Durmstrang student continued in a disdainful tone, his words dripping with even more contempt, "And what's with that stench? … It's like someone found the opposite of amortentia and mixed it with stinksap, brewing it in a bog, before leaving it to rot under the sun for a month."

Just as Harry opened his mouth to retaliate with a sharp response, he realized he wasn't alone in his irritation at the two students in front of him. A familiar, charming voice … adorned with a delightful French accent, called out from right behind him, interrupting the escalating tension.

"I find it absolutely wonderful, you pig," the voice pronounced. "Love and respect are rare treasures. When people discover it and are willing to embrace it, it becomes one of the most enchanting forms of magic in the world. And having the opportunity to watch it begin …"

Harry observed the abrupt shift in attention as the Durmstrang students, along with most others nearby, as they all swiftly turned to locate the source of the captivating voice. He couldn't help but notice the stunned expressions on their faces, as nearly every boy standing there, mirrored their expressions mouths agape in wonder.

The Durmstrang student in front of Harry attempted to utter a coherent response, stumbling over his words in an attempt to salvage the situation or perhaps redeem himself. "Um ... well, of course ... love is ... uh ... wonderful. You see, you are ... would you perhaps ..."

However, before he could complete his sentence, the voice from behind him continued, and as Harry pivoted to confirm, he recognized that it was Fleur Delacour coming to the defense of Hagrid and Madame Maxime. Her words cut through the tension like a blade.

"You are a pig," Fleur declared with unwavering conviction. "You wouldn't comprehend anything about love or respect, even if it were magically charmed into you."

Harry tried to offer a reassuring smile to Fleur, who maintained her fierce glare directed at the Durmstrang student. Returning his attention to the stupefied individual, Harry glanced past his shoulder, noticing that Hagrid and Madame Maxime had strolled into the Great Hall, oblivious to the unfolding drama, already having made their way halfway down the aisle toward the head table.

At the same time, Harry observed a handful of students, mostly females, trickling into the Great Hall. Most of the boys, particularly those situated nearest to Fleur, remained rooted in place, entranced by the mere presence of the Beauxbatons student, who shook her head in disappointment before gracefully gliding past them.

Turning his gaze back to his friends, Harry shook his head in mild amusement as he noticed that Ron too was caught in a daze, muttering something under his breath. Harry looked to Hermione before he shrugged in response and gently grasped Ron's shoulder, guiding his friend along through the wake Fleur left in her path. As they approached the doors, catching up to Fleur, Harry called out to her in a soft voice.

"Thanks for standing up for my friend, Hagrid," Harry expressed warmly.

Fleur's sudden shift in attention as she spun around to face Harry, an evident surprise etched across her features, caught him partially off guard. Her expression mirrored the reactions of all the boys who had been captivated by her presence.

"You ... you are not ... affected by my allure?" Fleur inquired, her tone soft and cautious.

Harry paused briefly, a smile forming on his lips as he met her gaze, his eyebrow arching slightly. "Are you asking if I find you alluring?" He chuckled lightly. "But no, I don't think I am. However, I am serious about thanking you for sticking up for Hagrid. He doesn't deserve that kind of treatment. Although, that … what did you call him … that pig back there might have been at least partially correct about one thing ... that cologne Hagrid was wearing ... " His words trailed off as he hinted at the questionable fragrance lingering in the air.

Harry's smile widened as he observed Fleur's unsuccessful attempt to stifle a growing grin. Deciding to abandon the battle against hiding the smile, she abruptly pivoted and made her way toward the Ravenclaw table where a couple of her schoolmates were seated. As she settled down, Harry noticed her tapping one of them on the shoulder, gesturing back towards him with a mix of confusion and interest evident on her face.

Giving a brief wave in her direction prompted an immediate shift in Fleur's focus. She swiftly averted her gaze, diverting her attention to the table before her, causing Harry to chuckle softly. Turning back to his friends, he noticed Ron seemingly starting to shake off the lingering effects of Fleur's presence. However, his amusement halted abruptly as he observed Hermione's demeanor.

Harry was taken aback, frozen for a moment as he noticed something unsettling in Hermione's expression. Her usual vibrant demeanor had dimmed, replaced by what appeared to be a tinge of sadness or hurt.

Guiding Ron into the bustling room toward their designated table, Harry glanced back at Hermione, who trailed behind them, her gaze fixed firmly on the floor.

"Hermione, are you alright?" Harry inquired, concerned about her distant demeanor. Yet, his query was met with silence, Hermione appearing lost in her own thoughts.

Upon reaching the Gryffindor table, Harry paused, gently assisting Ron onto the bench. Ron, seemingly recovering from the lingering effects of Fleur's allure, began to regain awareness of his surroundings. In the midst of this, Hermione accidentally bumped into Harry's side.

"Oh … uh, Harry ... sorry about that ..." Hermione's voice trailed off in a mumbled apology.

"Hermione …," Harry began again, noticing her shake off the apparent distraction that had preoccupied her moments earlier. "Are you alright?" He repeated his question, his tone laced with concern for his friend.

The question appeared to fully jolt Hermione out of her distracted state. Harry observed her subtly shaking her head, almost as if to shake off the lingering remnants of her distraction. Her attempt to conceal the emotions flickering across her face did not escape Harry's notice, though she seemed hesitant to sustain prolonged eye contact.

"Of course I am, Harry. I'm always just fine. Why ... why are you asking?" Hermione responded, her voice tinged with a hint of defensiveness.

Harry regarded her with a perplexed expression. "Oh ... you just seemed ... really distant. Lost in your thoughts ... more than your usual thinking, I mean," he explained, trying to inject a touch of humor with a faint chuckle. Yet, his attempt to lighten the mood failed to elicit even a smile from Hermione.

Pausing for a moment, Harry gazed at her intently. "And, well, you seemed a little ... sad? I just wanted to make sure you're okay," he added, his concern evident in his voice.

She diverted her gaze, trying to evade further discussion, and awkwardly settled her gaze on the table. Focusing on the food that had materialized on the serving plates, she mechanically began filling her plate before finally responding. "Oh ... yes, I'm fine ... just thinking about what happened out there in the Entrance Hall."

Harry glanced at her, arching an eyebrow. "Are you referring to Hagrid's 'cologne'?" he quipped, emphasizing the word with finger quotes.

This time, Harry's remark drew a laugh from Hermione and it seemed to provide her with an opportunity to regain composure. Meeting Harry's gaze more confidently, she couldn't suppress the small smile that had crept onto her face.

"More so what happened after that, with the girl ... Fleur Delacour … I think?" Hermione continued, her tone more assured. "I think Ron was onto something earlier. I believe she's a Veela ... or at least part Veela."

Harry nodded trying to look at least partially surprised, playing along with the 'revelation' Hermione was sharing. He leaned in attentively and nodded as she continued to elaborate.

"After Ron's response to our initial encounter with her in the Great Hall … when she stopped at the table and asked for the Bouillabaisse," Hermione recounted, "I doubted Ron's belief that she was a Veela, as you seemed entirely unaffected. I chalked it up to Ron being, well ... Ron. But then, I noticed her several times in the corridors. Male students, even the most confident and composed ones, either froze or started excessively fawning over her. That's when I began diving into some light reading."

Harry couldn't help but smile at Hermione's response to the situation and her choice of the word 'light'. "Of course you did. What did you find?"

Hermione paused momentarily, glancing over Harry's shoulder toward Fleur before redirecting her gaze to Harry. "Well, at this point, I'm fairly certain she's part Veela."

"Part Veela? How can she be part Veela?" Ron inquired, finally fully emerging from the effects of Fleur's presence. His interest in the conversation was evident, although judging by the hefty amount of food he had piled onto his plate, Harry wasn't entirely certain Ron's complete and undivided attention would be dedicated to the discussion.

Hermione acknowledged Ron's interest with a nod before turning back to Harry. "I believe her mother, or perhaps her grandmother, might have been a Veela who married a normal wizard. Consequently, Fleur is of mixed heritage, therefore part Veela," she explained.

Harry, intrigued by this new information about Veela heritage and Fleur's background, gazed at Hermione, encouraging her to continue delving into the topic. His curiosity was piqued, having not heard much about Veela or Fleur's lineage previously.

Hermione exhaled deeply, her tone reflecting a tinge of frustration. "There isn't much extensive information available ... I even reached out and asked Madam Pince if there were additional resources, but I found only a couple of books on the subject. I even searched outside of the country as well, but it seems the Veela guard their secrets closely," she explained.

Continuing with a hint of reluctance, Hermione finally revealed, "However, what I did find is that she, like all offspring of a Veela, whether full-blooded or of mixed heritage, is ... unusually attractive." The words left her mouth hesitantly.

"Her ability to attract others does seem to align with the Veela's characteristic allure. However, the exact details surrounding it are … quite elusive and the allure itself is poorly understood," Hermione explained, delving deeper into the topic. "It's a poorly explained magical phenomenon, which purportedly impacts the emotions of males, and even some females, to varying degrees. Over time, some individuals might develop a semblance of immunity to this effect, often through prolonged exposure, considerable magical strength, or through forming a strong bond with the Veela."

She paused, her expression thoughtful as she tried to articulate her point. "So, your immunity to her outbursts of allure, given that it's not something easily acquired, appears all the more … well … unusual."

Harry appeared a little perplexed. "Isn't it more likely that her allure is simply weaker than that of a full-blooded Veela, considering she's only part Veela?" he inquired, seeking clarification.

Hermione shook her head, locking eyes with Harry as she clarified, "That's not exactly how it works ... Or at least, from the limited information available, that doesn't seem to be the case." Her gaze lowered to the table, a hint of sadness crossing her expression.

"While it is true that part Veelas, particularly as adults, seem to possess a milder version of the allure compared to pure Veelas, …" Hermione continued, her tone thoughtful. "… though, this is a point of contention among wizards who have spent considerable time with them. After all, how do you truly quantify attraction? But that's a separate debate entirely. What's widely accepted is that part Veelas have lesser control over their allure than pure Veelas, especially as an adolescent."

Her voice carried a note of intrigue. "It is likely that pure Veelas seem to possess an innate ability to control their allure more effectively, whereas part Veelas lack this natural control. Instead, they have to work on developing and mastering that control over time … honestly, it's quite fascinating …," Hermione added, trailing off momentarily as her gaze shifted over Harry's shoulder towards Fleur before returning to meet Harry's eyes once more.

"In addition, their control over their allure significantly weakens during times of heightened stress or intense emotional situations, or in situations when they ... well, like someone," Hermione added, emphasizing the complexities of Veela allure.

Harry nodded in comprehension. "So, like in the hallway when she got angry at the Durmstrang student, and it felt like most people in the Entrance Hall froze," he remarked, connecting the dots.

Hermione affirmed his observation with a saddened smile. "Precisely like that. I'm quite certain she lost control of her allure then. It was evident from the way that all of the boys, and even some of the girls, were trapped by her allure, essentially becoming nothing more than mumbling statues," she explained, pausing to glance at the boy seated next to Harry. "No offence meant, Ron."

Ron looked up from his plate, his words slightly muffled by a mouthful of food. "Offence about what? You said it yourself, that all of the boys were affected," he mumbled despite his mouth being full.

Hermione nodded resolutely, her gaze unwaveringly fixed on Harry. "Yes, all the boys … except you, Harry."

Harry nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders. "So what? I was partially immune? Immune to the allure of a young Veela? Why does that matter?"

A furrow creased Hermione's brow as she muttered under her breath, "More like fully immune". Shaking her head and clearing her throat, she continued in a more audible tone, "But it matters because that ability is incredibly appealing to Veelas, especially part Veelas who struggle to control their allure when they're younger. You saw it yourself, how surprised she looked when you spoke to her in the Entrance Hall. I'd imagine they would hardly prefer spending time with statues, especially mumbling statues that can't hold a conversation."

She paused, glancing back at Ron. "Again, no offense, Ron," she murmured apologetically.

Ron redirected his attention to Hermione, his tone laced with playful disbelief. "Well, maybe I could believe you the first couple of times, but if you keep singling me out, I'm not sure there's 'no offense'," he quipped, punctuating his words with a laugh.

His comment prompted laughter from both Harry and Hermione. Hermione quickly murmured an apologetic "I'm sorry," to which Ron responded with a smile before returning to his meal.

Hermione turned her focus back to Harry, resuming their conversation. "But essentially, why would a Veela, who could choose anyone, want to spend their time with a statue when they could pick someone who can hold a conversation, is a decent person, like you, who expressed concern over Hagrid, and, well, is attractive? How could she not be interested in that?" she finished, her tone tinged with a hint of bitterness.

Harry paused, a playful smile curving his lips as he raised an eyebrow teasingly. "Oh ... do you think I'm attractive?" he quipped, teasing Hermione in return.

Hermione's cheeks flushed immediately. "What ... Where did you ... Who told ..." Her words faltered, and she froze, realizing her blunder. "That doesn't ... matter. It's not what I said. I was speaking hypothetically ... I said she'd find you attractive," she stammered, trying to backtrack.

Harry, noticing her embarrassment, decided to ease the tension and dropped the subject, offering his flustered friend a chance to regain her composure. "So, what does it matter if she might possibly like me? I don't even know her. Besides a couple of sentences exchanged about Bouillabaisse and thanking her for standing up for Hagrid, we haven't really talked."

"You might not like her?" Hermione scoffed skeptically. "Yeah, right. Allure isn't the only reason people like Veelas, Harry," she shot back.

Glancing over Harry's shoulder once more, Hermione continued in a wistful tone, avoiding direct eye contact. "She wouldn't have come here or entered the tournament if she wasn't intelligent or brave. And she's absolutely stunning ... definitely more so than me ..." Her voice trailed off as she appeared to freeze momentarily before hastily adding, "... or anyone else from our school. The only one from Hogwarts who is even remotely close to being in her league is ..."

As Hermione spoke, Harry reached out, placing his hand on hers and giving a gentle squeeze. This action caused her to halt mid-sentence and abruptly turn her gaze toward Harry, caught off guard by his gesture.

"Hermione, you're plenty attractive. Just because you spend your time to studying rather than engaging in Lavender and Parvati's discussions about makeup, fashion, or love potions, that doesn't take away from your attractiveness. If anything, I believe it only adds to it. You shouldn't compare yourself to anyone, especially someone you don't even know. She might be a terrible person, whereas you are amazing. You're one of my closest friends; you've always stood by me during tough times … some incredibly tough. You've always believed in me," Harry reassured Hermione, noting the growing smile on her face and her mouth starting to open likely having already formed a response to his compliments.

However, before Hermione could reply, someone sat down heavily beside Harry, causing him to turn and see who had joined them. As he recognized the person who had sat beside him on the one side, their twin plopped down on his other side, interrupting the moment before Hermione could respond.

"Hey there, you three!" Fred greeted with a grin. "How's the famous Gryffindor Trio doing?" he added, chuckling.

"Second only to, of course our famous Gryffindor Quidditch chasers, but a close second, never you fear," George chimed in with a laugh. He then looked between the three friends, a mischievous glint in his eye. "So how do you three fancy the opportunity to make a little money?" he proposed.

Ron swallowed nervously, a hint of worry crossing his face as he regarded his brothers. "How so? This isn't going to hurt us ... is it?" he asked cautiously.

George burst into laughter and turned to his brother, wiping a tear from his eye. "Ronald Bilius Weasley! You wound us. Never in the entirety of our lives would we willingly or knowingly cause you injury," he declared dramatically.

Fred flashed a grin at his twin. "Well, except that one time," he teased.

George mock-smacked the side of his head, feigning seriousness. "Oh, of course! You're right. I forgot about those five times," he added playfully.

"George is right, Ron. It was only an even thirteen times, and some of those were honestly accidental ... well … mostly accidental, at least," Fred admitted with a smirk.

Ron scoffed, rolling his eyes and turning to Harry and Hermione. "More like two and a half dozen times," he retorted.

Fred clutched his chest in an exaggerated display of horror. "Ron! I can't believe you would so carelessly ... underestimated the times. Honestly, it's at least twice that number, or my name isn't George," he joked, sharing a knowing glance with his twin.

George, or at least the twin Harry had presumed was George, feigned confusion. "Wait ... What ... I thought I was George. At least the sweaters Mom sends us at Christmas say that," he teased, ignoring the laughter coming from Harry and Hermione. With a playful smile, he turned to Ron. "But never you fear, dear little brother of ours. This won't result in any harm to you at all."

Fred nodded and shrugged his shoulders, adding casually, "Unless you lose."

George chimed in, acknowledging Fred's statement. "Well, that's partly true. You'll be disappointed if you lose, but not harmed ... at least not physically. But we've started taking bets on who people think the champions from each school will be. Interested? Naturally being our brother and all, we'd offer you some pretty good odds."

Ron nodded, glancing briefly at his friends before turning back to his brothers with a smile. "Who's looking good right now?" he inquired, leaning in to listen to their response.

The twins grinned, leaning closer to their younger brother. "Well, at the moment, Cedric Diggory is the favorite among the bets for Hogwarts. Krum seems to have garnered every vote from Durmstrang students, and he's quite popular among some of the girls in our school too. Beauxbatons, on the other hand, has almost even odds among four students, probably because they tend to keep to themselves. But, of course, you could always support our very own Gryffindor and bet on Angelina Johnson. She'd be quite the contestant and isn't too far behind Cedric," they explained, providing the current betting insights.

Ron glanced at Harry, seeking his opinion. Harry shrugged, a slight smile on his face. "I'd bet on Cedric, but honestly, I don't really know much about the other schools," he admitted.

George exaggerated a loud gasp of astonishment. "Harry 'I'm Sure You Have a Middle Name' Potter! You'd bet on a Puff over your own teammate!?" He glanced at his twin, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "Just when you think you know someone, they go ahead and do something like that. Makes you really wonder."

Harry chuckled, glancing between the twins as he raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Well, obviously, I'd prefer for her to be in ..."

Fred dramatically shook his head, cutting Harry off. "It's too late for that, Harry. You've already spoken, and we remember exactly what you said." His tone carried a playful hint of accusation.

George nodded in agreement. "We do indeed." He turned to his brother, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "I believe his exact words were … 'I'd much prefer Cedric to compete over Angelina. There is no way she could ever possibly win compared to the mighty Puff, and beyond that, she's not a very good Quidditch player, and her broom care is questionable, at best.'" He grinned mischievously, tapping the side of his head while maintaining eye contact with Harry. "No need for concern, dear Harry. I've got ears like a basilisk and a memory like a Hinkypuff trap. All's safe and secure up here in my noggin. And don't fret, Harry, as your friend and teammate, I'd never spill the beans about your thoughts on her representing Hogwarts or your views on her Quidditch skills. Although … I suppose she is a teammate as well … But I mean it, I will not tell her … Well, we might tell Alicia and Katie, but certainly not Angelina. And even if we did share it with Alicia and Katie, rest assured we'd ensure Angelina was at least ... oh, a foot and a half away," he concluded with a grin, glancing at his brother.

George paused briefly, ignoring the laughter from Ron and Harry, as well as the concealed smile on Hermione's face, indicating that even she was amused at the twins' antics.

Fred glanced back at the trio, a playful glint in his eye. "But enough of this dirty business of collecting blackmail. Who's up for a bet and a chance to get rich?"

Harry and Hermione shook their heads, while Ron eagerly gazed at his brothers and nodded. "I'd bet on Cedric ... but I don't have any coins with me. And I'm not dashing upstairs; I don't want to miss the reveal of the champions ..." He paused, casting a quick glance back at his plate, a grin forming on his face. "... or the dessert."

George nodded reassuringly. "No worries, Ron." He swiftly retrieved a piece of parchment and a quill from within his robes, passing them over to his younger brother. "Just jot down your bet on that and sign it with this quill."

Ron complied with a grin, quickly scribbling down his wager and signing his name. He handed the parchment and quill back to George, who accepted it with a smile.

Fred patted George on the back, exchanging a conspiratorial glance with his twin, before turning to Ron with a playful grin. "Just so you know, little brother, I'd suggest getting your bet in to us sooner rather than later. Especially if luck isn't on your side. I wouldn't miss making your payment." He leaned in closer, his tone teasingly ominous. "You see, this parchment and quill have been charmed. If we don't receive our payment within twenty-four hours, well ..." Fred paused for dramatic effect, "your hair will take on a vibrant shade of pink. And then, it'll switch to an equally bright and, offensive color every four hours until the debt is settled."

George nodded along, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Originally, the spell was supposed to last for twelve hours. But, we had to tweak it a bit, you know, to make sure it lasts indefinitely until we're paid. Can't have any misunderstandings, can we?" He shrugged, feigning innocence. "There's a slight chance however, that it could become a permanent fashion statement if activated though, although we are pretty sure we didn't make a mistake when using the spell. So, just a friendly tip, because you are our brother and we love you and mum would kill us, Ron, don't forget to pay. Only if you need to, of course. If you win, we'll simply deduct what you owe us from your prize."

The twins exchanged knowing looks, their expressions filled with lighthearted mischief, as Ron stared at them with a mix of disbelief and a hint of concern. Then, with a laugh they both stood up at the same time and headed down the table to join Lee, Angelina, Katie, and Alicia.

Even Hermione couldn't stifle her laughter as she joined Harry in chuckling at the sight of Ron's slightly queasy expression as he turned a slight shade of green. Harry wiped the tears from his eyes and turned to Ron, offering some advice, "That's on you, mate. By now, you should've learned not to trust anything they hand you. I'd pay them as soon as possible. But just so you know, if you bet on Cedric as the Hogwarts champion, I'd say you're in the clear. I would've placed my bet on him too."

Glancing down the table, Harry noticed Fred waving at him with a wide grin before leaning in to whisper something to Angelina. Harry was pretty sure it wasn't about his fake preference for Cedric as champion or his supposed critiques of her broom care skills, which were undeniably better than his. However, he decided it was wise not to keep staring in that direction and laughing. Instead, he turned his attention back to his plate of food, deciding it was a more sensible place to focus for the moment.

However, the cheerful atmosphere Harry had enjoyed from bantering with the twins and his friends was swiftly replaced by a wave of unease when he spotted Barty Crouch Jr entering, limping in on Moody's peg leg and using the former Auror's staff for support.

Despite trying to engage in light-hearted conversation with his friends and savor the meal, Harry found it increasingly challenging to shake off the image of Barty Crouch Jr. The looming sense of what was to come after the meal persisted in his mind, casting a shadow over his attempt to enjoy the moment.

It felt as though he had scarcely finished his dessert when the tables were suddenly cleared of all food, and the attention of the Great Hall shifted towards Professor Dumbledore, who had risen from the head table and made his way to the podium. The usual buzz of conversation dwindled, replaced by a hushed anticipation among the students, all aware of what was about to unfold under the Hogwarts headmaster's announcement.

"Another splendid meal, … as always, I must say," Dumbledore chimed in, breaking the silence that had settled over the Great Hall. "And would you look at the time! The Goblet of Fire is just about ready to unveil the champions. Seems like our timing is quite magical, wouldn't you agree?" With a playful wink, he concluded his statement.

The headmaster then proceeded to outline the expectations for the champions when their names were called. Harry tried to pay attention, but his mind was preoccupied with the efforts to avoid looking overly suspicious. His gaze occasionally flitted toward Dumbledore, but he couldn't resist scanning the row of teachers and guests. Most of them appeared keenly focused on either the Headmaster or the Goblet of Fire, which was being carried to the front of the room. However, Harry noticed one exception: the last professor sitting at the end of the bench, detached from the others, taking a sip from a flask that had been tucked inside an inner jacket pocket.

As Harry's gaze swept across the room, he felt a chill crawl down his spine when it fell upon 'Moody.' The imposter's intense stare seemed fixed on Harry, his real and magical eye bearing down with an unsettling, predatory smile tugging at his lips.

Suppressing any visible reaction, Harry made a conscious effort not to let his gaze linger on Barty Crouch Jr. Instead, he redirected his attention to Dumbledore, who stood close to the Goblet. Flames swirled within the magical vessel, poised to reveal the names of the selected contestants, just as it had done during the prior selection. Despite the unnerving sensation of being watched, Harry remained fixed on the proceedings, determined not to let his discomfort show.

From Durmstrang … Victor Krum …

Beauxbatons … Fleur Delacour …

And … From Hogwarts …

Cedric Diggory.

As the ceremony unfolded and names were announced one by one, Harry felt his apprehension growing exponentially. Each passing moment only heightened his anxiety, uncertain about what course of action to take if … or rather when … his name was inevitably called. Despite observing subtle differences since he woke up again at the World Cup, he was fairly certain that nothing he had done would deter Barty Crouch Jr's plan of including him in the tournament.

When Cedric's name was drawn, the applause erupted and gradually faded away, but Harry remained fixated on the Goblet of Fire. His eyes remained glued to the magical vessel, anticipating an inevitable outcome.

Because of his intense attention he was the first to notice when, amidst the expectant silence, the blue flames within the Goblet flickered and transitioned back to the foreboding red hue. A fourth piece of parchment emerged, gliding out from the flames in an eerily familiar moment. Time seemed to slow down as Harry watched the unfolding events, each step unfolding exactly as they had before.

He observed with a mix of anticipation and dread as Dumbledore's usual composed demeanor gave way to a momentary surprise. The headmaster's swift reaction to pluck the parchment from the air didn't escape Harry's watchful gaze. As Dumbledore scanned the name written on it, a myriad of emotions played across his face … a fleeting look of confusion, a deep-seated moment of concern, all appearing quicker than the last and each disappearing just as quickly, veiled behind his composed countenance.

With an air of composure that barely concealed his underlying worry, Dumbledore seemed to silently read, then re-read, and read once more the name on the parchment. His gaze lifted and immediately locked onto Harry, prompting a wave of trepidation to wash over him. Even from a distance, the concern in Dumbledore's eyes was palpable, though it no longer reflected on his features.

The room, which had erupted into a frenzied flurry of hushed whispers upon the appearance of the fourth piece of parchment, fell silent as Dumbledore cleared his throat. His voice, calm yet laden with a subtle unease, echoed only enough to reach the nearest rows of students.

"Harry Potter …"

Kind Regards,

FavoriteAuthor

Guest - I am so glad you love the story, thanks for the review!

TheRazgrizDragon - Thanks for the feedback!

Reixe - Thanks for the comment, that is something I am aware of and trying to find a way to capture!

jslee102 - Thanks for the feedback! That is totally on me, I apologize to everyone about that. Not sure how I did that, but have gone back and fixed it, should be less jarring if ever reread! I am also really happy with Ron as well though!

Jake the Snake - I am also to see Ron maturing a bit as well.

SleeperHold27 - Thanks! Obviously they are amazing characters but I think I have finally found a good way to capture them.

Ariadne Venegas - I guess we will find out!

Fenrir Azazel - I am really enjoying the reviews! Ah ... ya ... that was on me! But fixed!

fortinpatric - Well thanks for the review!

TrollsofTrolls, oldkerosen - Thanks for pointing that out, it has been retconned.

Lucy Elizabeth Dawson - Thanks so much for the review! I like it as well. Ron had the potential to be more than the way he was written and I definitely see how JK came to write him the way she did ... I just hope there could have been more to him.

RaiDaniels - Thanks for the review!

zega606 - Defintiely like Ron more in this story!

skotos07 - Thanks so much for the review!

jkarr - This is a nice review, hope you are enjoying this as much as the previous chapters.

DJ Scales - Thanks so much!

star90 - I really enjoyed writing this chapter

BlindFaunusGirl - Thanks!

littleemberlou - Thanks for the welcome, things are alright. I really appreciate the comments!

Thanks to those of you out to those of you who enjoy my stories, I promise to keep updating the stories as long as you enjoy them, and a special thanks to those of you who have taken the time to leave feedback or reach out to me directly.

Author Note – All feedback is welcome (hopefully constructive!) Looking forward to what you think!

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