The choosing of the champions.
HARRY XXVI
Harry felt a little down as he climbed the stairs leading to his dormitory. He dressed in Muggle clothes to accompany his mother to Godric's Hollow. Now, he needed to change to wear his wizard robes When he walked in, he found Neville, deep into the reading of one of his herbology books. Harry looked at the title. Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean.
"Is it one of those Moody gave you?" Harry asked as he took clothes in his trunk.
"Yes. He just gave it to me today," Neville replied.
"Oh. He gave you another one?"
Neville nodded. Professor Moody suggested both of them a few books he thought they would like after their first lesson at the beginning of the year. Harry guessed he might have done it as an attempt to apologize for showing them the Unforgivable Curses. Neville got books on Herbology, his favourite subject, while Harry was suggested some works on Defence Against the Dark Arts. Though Moody still gave them in a very abrupt and straight way. Social relationships were definitely not among his strengths.
"You knew that there's a wizard in Nepal who's growing gravity resistant trees?"
"No." Harry wondered what these trees would look like. And Neville gave him a few details as he changed.
"Do you know where Ron and Hermione are?" he asked his roommate after a while, after he finished changing.
"No," Neville replied. "Well… I heard them talking about visiting Hagrid. Maybe they're still down there."
"Possible," Harry commented. However, the feast of Halloween was about to begin, and he wouldn't have time to go to Hagrid's home. "Do you know who put his name in the Goblet of Fire?"
"Well, Angelina did."
"Angelina?" Harry was surprised. "She's seventeen?" The Chaser was only in her sixth year at Hogwarts, from what Harry knew.
"She had her birthday last week. But Fred and George tried, and…" Neville seemed to be containing a laughter. "Huge beards grew on their chins."
Harry laughed with him. "And there are also all students of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, of course. They all placed their names."
They discussed a little longer, but finally went down to the Great Hall together. Once there, they sat down near Dean and Seamus. Fred and George were not far away, and Harry had the impression they were shaven recently.
"Hey, you're here, Harry," Seamus said. "How was your day?"
"Oh… it was okay," he replied. He still had the discussion with his mother and the entire day at Godric's Hollow on his mind.
"You missed a lot," Dean said, pointing the twins.
"So, the Ageing potion didn't work, finally?" Harry asked.
"No. Dumbledore foresaw the trick," Fred said. Despite this, he and George seemed to find it funny more than anything else.
"I hope it's Angelina who's going to be selected," George said.
"Me too. All the Hufflepuffs are talking about Diggory," Seamus informed them. Though this was no new information to Harry. Ernie, Justin and Hannah repeatedly talked about this possibility. Thinking about them, he saw a group of Hufflepuff students coming their way, in the row between the tables of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, and they walked right next to them when Seamus resumed. "I wouldn't have thought he would have wanted to risk his good looks."
They all heard him.
"Hey, you could show a little respect," Ernie Macmillan declared.
"Sorry, Macmillan. We are very respectful of Cedric," Fred said.
"Yes," George supported. "That's why we would rather not risk his good looks in such a dangerous competition. I mean, catching the Snitch when the other Seeker is down is something. But that's entirely different from participating to life-threatening tasks."
Harry wished he didn't say that. He tried to send a look at his friends in Hufflepuff that he was sorry, but they didn't seem to notice it.
"At least, he's not cheating when he tries to participate to a tournament," Hannah retorted.
"Well, maybe he should think about cheating, if he hopes to survive," Fred said with laugh.
"Well, that's a big difference between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff," Ernie said. "We do not cheat. When we win, it's loyally."
"Which seldom happens," George retorted, an amused expression plain to see.
"Okay, everyone. That's enough," Susan Bones said. "Let's go sit down."
The Hufflepuffs went away. Ron and Hermione arrived not long after, behind the students of Durmstrang who took place at the Slytherin table like yesterday.
"Hey, where have you been?" Harry asked them as they sat down next to him, Hermione right on his left, between him and Ron.
"Visiting Hagrid," Hermione replied.
She seemed about to add something, but Ron interrupted her. "Harry, you'll never guess. I think Hagrid fancies Madame Maxime."
"What?!"
Despite the fact he ate nothing so far, since the food was not served yet, Harry almost strangled himself at the news. Ron went on to explain everything they saw while in Hagrid's home, and how he accompanied Madame Maxime back to the castle. Looking at the staff table, Harry noticed that indeed, the headmistress of Beauxbatons was in a great discussion with Hagrid, while Karkaroff, Dumbledore, Crouch and Bagman took part in another discussion between them. As for his mother, she remained in retreat, not far away behind the table. She winked at him though the moment he looked at her. Harry smiled in return.
He had spent a good enough day with his mother. Well, it was as good as it could be, considering the day they were. He wished though that he could have spent more time with her.
Harry felt guilty. His mother tried to hide it, but it was clear that she missed him, and that she didn't want to be far away from him. It had been a shock to learn that they wouldn't be able to see each other or communicate for maybe months. He realized how sparse his letters had been, and wished he could rectify this, but it seemed too late. He didn't know why he didn't write to her more often. He simply… didn't think about it. He found no other explanation.
"So, Harry, what about you? How your day has been?" Hermione asked, a touch of worry in her voice.
Harry was trying to find an answer when he was saved by Dumbledore's speech. After that, the plates filled, and everyone was too occupied to eat, or involved in various conversations, for Hermione to ask him again about his day.
Harry only attended one feast of Halloween at Hogwarts in his life. He missed the first two ones, and only attended the one last year because it was during a weekend and he spent the day with his mother instead of the evening. Today was similar, but he felt this feast was dragging. Hogwarts's Choir, to which Hannah and Susan were members, came to sing, and the ghosts also made quite a show, far more impressive than last year. Perhaps Harry was eager for the feast to end despite these good performances because he was looking forward to find out who would be the champions of the Triwizard Tournament. But it was also because he hoped to see his mother one last time before he went to bed and she would leave. He wouldn't have another occasion to talk to her before long, if what she said was true. She advised him to write to Sirius as often as he could in her absence, but although Harry loved his godfather, it wasn't the same as with his mother.
Finally, late in the night, the plates were emptied and shining once again. The noises in the Great Hall faded as Dumbledore stood up and walked until he was next to the Goblet of Fire, which had been moved from the Entrance Hall to the Great Hall, right in front of the staff table, before the feast.
"Well, the Goblet is almost ready to make its decision," Dumbledore declared. Everyone in the Great Hall was tensed and excited, and Harry himself felt a surge of those feelings within him, his worries about his mother evaporating for a moment. "I estimate that it requires one more minute." A few whispers were exchanged among students. Those of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were staring at the Cup as if nothing else existed in the world. "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, where they will be receiving their first instructions."
He then took out his wand, made a move with it, and most candles were extinguished, leaving the Great Hall in a state of semi-darkness. The main source of light was now the Goblet of Fire itself. The blue-white flames projected a dim but clear light that barely illuminated its surroundings, but it was more than enough to bring everyone's attention to it. Everyone was waiting, staring in the same direction. Dumbledore himself had his eyes piercing the Goblet as if trying to decipher it.
Then suddenly, the flames turned red. Sparks flew out. A few students around made sounds out of awe as a long line of red flame shot in the air, projecting something with it. A small, blackened piece of parchment found itself high in the air, and it slowly floated down, until Dumbledore carefully caught it. He raised his arm, and the small paper was illuminated by the flames of the Goblet, which slowly turned from red to blue. The Headmaster then cleared his throat.
"The champion for Durmstrang will be Viktor Krum."
The Great Hall erupted so loudly that Harry got the impression for a moment to be back at the Quidditch World Cup. Despite this, he could distinctly hear the words of two people. The first was Ron, only separated from him by Hermione.
"No surprises there!" he shouted as he joined the applauses and cheers just like Harry did.
The second person who Harry heard was probably heard by everyone else in the Great Hall. Igor Karkaroff shouted so loud that Harry could hear him from the other side of the large place.
"Bravo, Viktor! I knew you had it in you!"
Krum shook Dumbledore's hand, then headed towards the door behind the staff table. He walked not far away from Harry's mother on his way, and Harry even got the impression that he shot a look at her. The applauses slowly died down. Not long after they vanished and everyone's attention was back on the Goblet of Fire, its flames turned red once more, and it sent in the air another piece of blackened paper. This time though, the piece seemed more ornamented. Harry hoped it wasn't Hogwarts' champion. If it was, then he highly doubted it was either Cedric or Angelina. Unlike Fred, George, Ron and many of his comrades in Gryffindor, Harry didn't mind if Cedric became Hogwarts' champion. After Cedric helped Harry to prepare against Slytherin, and after their weekly practices of this year, Harry lost any remnants of thoughts that viewed Cedric as an enemy. Without a Quidditch season, he would be actually very happy if Cedric was selected.
"The champion for Beauxbatons…" Harry was relieved to hear this wasn't Hogwarts' champion. "… is Fleur Delacour."
The applauses and cheers were much less thunderous than previously. The reasons for this were probably that this girl was no Quidditch celebrity, but also that a few girls in the delegation of Beauxbatons burst into tears as their comrade stood up and walked towards Dumbledore.
"It's her, Harry," Ron shouted. "It's the Veela!"
Indeed, it was her. Harry noticed that Hermione shot angry glares at Ron while he kept his eyes on the girl who disappeared through the same door as Krum after she shook hands with Dumbledore.
The moment Fleur Delacour was out, the Goblet's flames threw the third and last name of the evening. Harry watched the small piece of paper as it almost crawled from above towards Dumbledore. The tension was as high as it could be as the Headmaster slowly approached it of the blue flames to read the name on it.
"The Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory!"
The table next to them literally exploded, and Harry joined their cheers and their applauses. Though he couldn't miss Ron's complaints next to him.
"No!"
"Come on, Ron. It's not that bad."
Harry kept applauding as Cedric made his way through the crowd of Hufflepuffs who patted his shoulder and his back, shook his hand, before he could actually reach Dumbledore and head towards the door behind the staff table. So that was it. Cedric was their champion. Harry looked at Angelina. She seemed to take this decision much better than Fred and George. At the Hufflepuff table, he saw Susan and Hannah hugging each other, while Ernie and Justin kept pounding on the table.
"Excellent!" Dumbledore yelled over the chaos. "Well, we now have our three champions." The cheers slowly died down to listen to the Headmaster. It was over. The selection of champions was done. "I am sure I can count upon all of you…" But Dumbledore's voice took a backseat in Harry's mind. He looked at his mother. She stepped forward and was barely a foot behind Mr Crouch now. She probably approached to better see the selection of the champions. Harry, now, was looking forward to a last opportunity to talk with her before she left. He tried to establish visual contact with her, but she wasn't looking towards him. She was looking to the Goblet.
It was then that Harry realized the red blaze in the corner of his eye. He turned to gaze at the Goblet, and its flames had gone back to the scarlet color. Sparks were flying all around. Dumbledore had stopped to speak. Aside from the sound of the leaping flames, nothing could be heard in the Great Hall.
A tongue of flame erupted from the Goblet of Fire, expelling a fourth charred piece of paper in the air. It flew high, and everybody's eyes stared at the ceiling it seemed to reach. It kept going up for a short moment after the long flame receded, then it twirled on itself, swinging left and right, slowly, agonizingly going down, until it landed into Dumbledore's extended hand, which caught a piece of paper for the fourth time this evening.
Harry was confused. He looked at Hermione next to him, who looked just as clueless as he was to what was going on. The three champions were chosen. Why was the Goblet of Fire throwing another piece of paper?
Harry had the slight impression that Dumbledore's hand was imperceptibly shaking as he looked at the paper and read what was written on it. His head turned towards the staff table. Harry believed he was looking at the other headmasters, but strangely enough, a part of his mind had a short impression that he looked at his mother, who seemed as clueless as everyone else as to what just happened. Dumbledore raised the piece of paper to look at it carefully in the light of the Goblet. As Harry watched the Goblet more carefully, wondering if a fifth spit of fire would happen, he also noticed how everyone in the Great Hall, from Karkaroff and Madame Maxime to the youngest student, were staring at Dumbledore, waiting for what he would say. The Headmaster took his time, reading the paper in the light of the Goblet's fire, turning it a few times, even approaching it very closely to his eyes. Dumbledore looked… troubled. Something that rarely happened.
Finally, his hand dropped, and he kept the paper at the level where his beard ended. He cleared his throat, and everyone, including Harry, waited for what he would say. His words were the last Harry expected to hear.
"Harry Potter."
Harry was very conscious of the fact that whole Great Hall was dead silent. He was also conscious that each and every head in the Great Hall turned towards him. Some first searched him, unsure as to where he was, but after seeing the students closest to him and most of the teachers at the staff table staring in his direction, they slowly looked towards the same spot, and identified the small boy with glasses, mingled hair and a scar on his forehead sitting at the Gryffindor table. All that, Harry was conscious of it. But he didn't move. He didn't say a word. He didn't react in any small way. He was paralyzed, as if he was Petrified.
The only movement Harry registered across the Great Hall was Professor McGonagall who stood up and went to Dumbledore, whispering in his ear. Harry finally turned towards Hermione and Ron, who stared at him with the same astonished look as the rest of the Gryffindor table.
"I didn't put my name in," he managed to somehow croak.
He knew he didn't. He spent the entire day with his mother. Between the moment they left the Great Hall yesterday and when he came back for the feast today, Harry had only been close to the Goblet of Fire once, when he walked across the Entrance Hall early this morning to join his mother in the park. He spotted a student of Slytherin, Warrington, placing his name in the Goblet at this moment, but Harry remained far from the Goblet and the age line that surrounded it. Anyway, he couldn't have gone through it. It was Dumbledore who drew it. No, it was definitely not him who put it in. He didn't even seriously think about participating to the tournament. He did dream about it, probably like everyone else, but he never really had the real intent to try and participate. Even if he was somehow somnambulist without knowing it and went to the Goblet in the middle of the night with his Invisibility Cloak, he couldn't have gotten through the age line.
His mother had now joined McGonagall and Dumbledore and whispered with them. Dumbledore seemed to give her something. Then he turned towards the assembly of students.
"Harry Potter! Up here, if you please."
Harry was unsure about what to do.
"Go on," Hermione whispered to him. She finally elbowed him so strong that he almost stumbled in the alley separating the tables of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. He found himself face to face with students of Hufflepuff, most of those he knew personally. They seemed to be looking at him as if they saw him for the first time. Harry shook his head and started to walk the long path between his sitting place and the staff table.
He didn't know where to look. Ahead of him were the stares of the professors, but most especially of Dumbledore and his mother. His mother's eyes were the hardest to decipher. She looked stunned. Harry never had such difficulty or such unwillingness to know what she was thinking. All around him, he felt astonishment, even hostility. Someone shouted that he didn't have the age, and someone else called him a cheater. He looked at the floor during most of the journey that looked unending. When finally in front of Dumbledore, he tried to only look at him.
With a single sign of head, he showed Harry the door through which three other people, all seventeen-years-old at least, went through only a few minutes earlier. Dumbledore wasn't smiling this time. Harry went this way and shot another short look at his mother as he walked next past her. Again, her face was indecipherable. As for the staff table, teachers looked just as shocked. Hagrid was just as taken aback as they all were, and he looked at Harry in utter confusion. As for Moody's blue eye, it was riveted on Harry and followed him all the way long. The face of the former Auror was grave.
When Harry pushed through the door, he found himself in a much smaller room, with portraits all around, and with Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory and Fleur Delacour grouped around a fireplace. The three of them looked in his direction when he walked in. But before any of the four people present could say a word, a fifth person walked into the small room, stopping the door from closing behind Harry at the last instant, getting into the place and closing the door loudly behind her.
"Harry!" His mother was looking intensely at him. "Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?"
"No. I didn't. I swear." It was the truth.
"Did you ask someone older to put it?"
"No!" he said vehemently. Though, now that his mother asked the question, he wondered...
But before he could push those thoughts further, she extended her hand and showed him a burned piece of paper. Harry looked at it, and between the charred corners, a name clearly appeared. Harry Potter. This was the piece of paper that just came out of the Goblet.
So this was no joke. His name truly came out of the Goblet of Fire about a minute ago.
"It's not me," he claimed truthfully.
His mother looked at the paper herself and illuminated it with her wand. "It's not your writing," she concluded after a short time.
No, it wasn't. Because Harry never wrote his name like that on a short piece of paper, and he certainly never placed one in the Goblet. This meant that someone else wrote his name on that paper and put it in the Goblet in his place.
He just completed his thoughts when another voice came from behind him. Harry had turned to face his mother when she walked in.
"Excuse me, Harry." It was Cedric. "What's going on?"
The moment he finished his sentence, the door opened, and both Harry and his mother, and also Cedric who stepped forward to talk to him, had to step aside to let Dumbledore, Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, McGonagall, Snape, Crouch and Bagman walk in. All had very serious and anxious expressions, except Bagman who looked jubilant.
"Extraordinary!" he said as he closed the door behind him. "We didn't plan to have a fourth champion, but I must say, this is truly incredible."
"Incredible!" The person who shouted this time couldn't be farther from the exciting mood in which Bagman was. Harry's mother brandished the blackened piece of paper in front of him, then looked alternatively to him and Mr Crouch. "Can you explain this? I thought the Ministry had taken every precaution, and that no one below the age of seventeen would participate to this tournament!"
In some way, this explosion of anger both surprised and relieved Harry. His mother had looked more worried than furious when she asked him whether he had anything to do with his name getting out of the Goblet of Fire. This meant she likely believed him.
"Well… Well…" Bagman stammered, his jubilant expression now gone.
"Evans, this is not our doing," Mr Crouch declared. "Whatever happened, someone clearly tampered with the selection process of the champions."
He stared at Harry. Harry felt as if this high official of the Ministry was trying to read him.
"Indeed," Snape said. "And usually, when something illegal is done, it's the person who benefits the most from it who did it."
He was staring at Harry as well.
"Severus, this is nonsense," McGonagall declared. "Are you really suggesting that Potter somehow managed to get through the age line and put his name in the Goblet of Fire?"
"Dumbledore must have made a mistake with the line," Madame Maxime said. She was clearly furious.
"It is possible, of course," Dumbledore humbly recognized, to Harry's consternation.
"Dumbledore! You know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" McGonagall said.
"Excuse me!"
Everyone turned to look at the champion of Beauxbatons. Fleur Delacour had approached, while Krum remained behind. Her hair was slowly flying around her, but Harry got the distinct impression they were flowing wider around her, as if they were an indicator of her emotional state.
"What is going on?" she asked.
"You are right, Miss Delacour," Dumbledore acknowledged. "Please forgive us. But it seems that… a fourth name came out of the Goblet of Fire tonight."
Fleur looked astonished, and she stared at Harry in a mix of disgust and confusion.
"Which is totally unacceptable!" Karkaroff declared. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur. But two Hogwarts champions! This goes too far!"
"I quite agree with Professor Karkaroff," Madame Maxime said. "Never in the history of the Tournament was the host school allowed two champions."
"Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime," Dumbledore said in a tired voice, "never in the history of the Tournament there has been more or less than three champions. This is a completely new and unusual situation, and I am as clueless as you are as to how this happened."
"It is no fault of yours, Professor Dumbledore," Snape interceded. "Potter's determination to break rules is known. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here…"
"Do you have proof of that? Or are you just throwing accusations without knowing whether they are true or not?"
The snapping questions of Harry's mother silenced Snape, who looked at her with fury.
"Proof?" Fleur Delacour's new outcry brought everyone's attention back to her. "What kind of proof do you need? His name got out of the Goblet. He… and who are you, in the first place?" she asked Harry's mother.
"Lily Evans, young woman," Harry's mother replied between her teeth. "Lily Evans Potter."
Harry was surprised. His mother seldom used the family name she got from his father when they married. But the effect was instant on Fleur Delacour, whose eyes grew and was speechless all of a sudden. Even internationally, their names were known.
"And unlike most people here, you were not there when these events happen. So let those who are concerned discuss about it."
In other circumstances, Harry would have found funny to see his mother put back to her place Fleur Delacour, who showed quite a haughty behavior since she arrived at Hogwarts.
"She is concerned," Madame Maxime interjected. "If Hogwarts gets two champions, this lowers the chances of Beauxbatons to win the Triwizard Tournament."
"It's true." It seemed that Fleur Delacour could recover from a rebuke quite quickly. "We have all been hoping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! The honour for our school! A thousand Galleons in prize money! This is a chance many would die for. And this little boy is taking it away from us!"
She pointed a finger at Harry. To his surprise, his mother stood between him and Fleur.
"Money. Glory. This is why you're participating to this tournament?" she asked the French girl. "You may be seventeen or eighteen of age, and an adult in this country, Fleur Delacour, but you have the maturity of a girl of eight."
"Enough!" Dumbledore thundered. "Let's keep our students out of this. There is a simple way to clear all of this."
Harry looked at Dumbledore with hope. He had a solution? Something that could arrange everything and erase all that happened tonight? Harry was hoping for something great, but instead, the Headmaster turned to him and asked, very quietly.
"Harry, did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire?"
Harry was so stunned that he needed a moment to answer. "No."
"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?"
"No!" he shouted out of frustration this time.
"You should show some respect to the Headmaster, Potter," Snape warned him.
"Dumbledore, he is lying!" Madame Maxime said.
"Something we agree on, Madame Maxime," Snape declared.
"You should stop assuming that students outside of the House of Slytherin are lying, Severus," Harry's mother angrily replied. "I asked him the same questions a few minutes ago, and his answers were the same."
"You should stop assuming your son always tells you the truth."
"He was with me the whole day. So if you have a logical explanation about how Harry could have been standing over his father's grave in Godric's Hollow while walking through an age line at the same time in Hogwarts, you're welcome to expose your theory."
"He wasn't in Godric's Hollow last night, as far as I know," Snape reminded her.
"And he wasn't in the Entrance Hall placing his name into the Goblet either," someone growled behind. Alastor Moody just walked into the small room. "Everyone who seriously believes that Potter put his name into the Goblet of Fire is an idiot."
He went to feed the fireplace under everyone's eyes. Harry was somehow glad that another professor believed him, though he wasn't sure if this meant so much coming from Moody.
"Really, Moody?" It was Karkaroff who spoke now. Harry knew that Moody was the Auror who sent him to Azkaban, and Karkaroff was obviously afraid of him. His voice was trembling. "And how did you come to this conclusion?"
"Simple. Someone put Potter's name in that Goblet knowing he would have to compete if it came out," the former Auror growled.
"What do you mean, Alastor?" Harry's mother asked this time. He heard worry in her voice.
"The Goblet of Fire creates a binding magical contract between all champions. They all must compete from the moment their names emerge from the Goblet. Someone clearly wanted Potter to compete in the Tournament, and he didn't do it to increase Hogwarts' odds in the competition."
Everyone was listening to Moody now.
"Nonsense. Of course, whoever did this wanted to increase Hogwarts' luck," Karkaroff stated.
"Really? By having a fourteen-years-old boy competing against adults?" This seemed to shut off Karkaroff. "Whoever put Potter's name in that Goblet, he also managed to manipulate the Goblet of Fire, an ancient and very powerful magical artifact. Someone cast a very powerful Confundus Charm on the Goblet to make it believe there were four schools in the competition, and that Potter was the only one in his category. Which explains why we have four champions, and that Potter is the fourth. Since getting around Dumbledore's age line and manipulating such a powerful magical object is well above the talent of fourth-year student, the only logical conclusion is that it wasn't Potter who did it. And since his participation to the Tournament is clearly not the best way to increase Hogwarts' odds to win, the only logical conclusion is that someone wanted Potter to participate to the Tournament. And he certainly didn't do it to please him."
"Why wouldn't he be pleased?" Fleur Delacour asked. "He gets to participate to the Triwizard Tournament!"
"Does he look pleased to you?" Everyone looked at Harry. And indeed, he wasn't pleased. "I would say making him compete is a good way to have him killed, don't you think?"
The theory made the whole room fall under silence. Then Karkaroff burst into very cold laughter. "Very funny, Moody. You seem to have thought about it a great deal. We all know you consider the morning wasted if you haven't discovered six plots before lunchtime."
"This doesn't help us," Dumbledore declared. "We do not know how this situation arose, but this is not the point for now." He turned towards Mr Bagman and Mr Crouch. "Barty, Ludo. I know that Harry's name came out of the Goblet. But however it ended up there, is there a way to get him out of the Tournament?"
Everyone now was staring at Ludovic Bagman and Bartemius Crouch. Harry was too, in the hope that they could utter very simple words that he wouldn't compete in the tournament. This way, all problems would be solved, and Harry could simply go back to the Gryffindor common room and say that Cedric was the only champion of Hogwarts. However, Harry quickly got the impression these words would not come from Ludovic Bagman. He had taken his handkerchief to wipe his face with, and looked at Bartemius Crouch, who bore a very grim and serious expression. It was he who spoke, and his words were definitely not those Harry and most of the people in this room wished to hear.
"We must follow the rules. And the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the Tournament."
The only reason why not everyone was unhappy with this was Ludovic Bagman. "Barty knows the rulebook back to front," he declared, beaming.
"The rules also state that no one under the age of seventeen can participate to the Tournament," Harry's mother pointed out, to his relief. This relief was short-lived though, as Crouch replied right away.
"This is different. This rule was put into place this year, following an agreement between the Ministries of Magic of several countries and the three schools. This is not an original rule of the Tournament. The Goblet of Fire has its own, absolute rules. And one of those rules is that all people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire must participate. The Goblet even creates a binding magical contract." Mr Crouch looked at him with a gaze full of gravity. "Harry Potter has no choice. He must participate to the Tournament."
Harry felt something very heavy fall at the bottom of his stomach. His last hopes that everything that just happened could be solved were crushed.
"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," Karkaroff roared. "Let's set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will add names until each school has two champions. This is only fair."
"The Goblet of Fire is extinguished," Bartemius Crouch stated. "It will not re-ignite until the next Tournament, in five years."
"In which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing! I have half a mind to leave now!"
"Come on, Professor Karkaroff," Mr Bagman said, trying to calm things done. "There is no need to reach such extremities."
"Extremities! We have just been tricked into an unfair competition!"
"You may leave, Karkaroff, if that is your wish," Crouch said, "but this will only be a disservice to your school. You are one of the sitting judges for this Tournament. If you leave, you will have no say in the evaluation of the champions during tasks. And you will not be able to bring your champion back to Durmstrang with you."
"Are you holding him prisoner?" Karkaroff asked, outraged.
"No. But he is magically bound to compete in the Tournament. Just like Mr Potter, Mr Diggory and Miss Delacour. None of them can forfeit. It was made very clear from the very beginning. Once a champion is chosen, he cannot step back. And if you really want your champion to have the best odds of winning, you should stay with him."
Karkaroff looked even more furious, but out of words.
"Then in this case, I'm afraid we have no choice." It was Dumbledore who spoke, and Harry heard something he seldom heard in Dumbledore's voice. Resignation. "Cedric Diggory, Harry Potter, Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour will all compete in the Tournament."
"But Dumbledore…" Madame Maxime began.
"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative… if anyone has an alternative, I would be delighted to hear it."
He looked around, his voice controlled, his expression open, even pleading, but also firm. Harry hoped that someone would speak up. And it was his mother who finally did.
"You said that it was the Goblet of Fire that established the binding contract. If someone somehow managed to convince the Goblet to choose Harry as a champion, is there no way to manipulate the Goblet to remove Harry from the competition?"
"The Goblet of Fire is a very old and powerful magical artifact," Crouch declared. "It possesses a magic that is mostly lost, and that very few people can even try to comprehend. Any attempt to manipulate it, to alter its functioning, could result in catastrophic events."
"And it is extinguished," Bagman reminded everyone. "So even if we were willing to attempt something, we are very unlikely to succeed since its magic has gone dormant for the next five years."
"This Tournament was organized with the cooperation of people from all around Europe. Are you really telling that no one in this continent is able to alter a magical contract established by a cup made of wood?" Harry's mother spat. She looked very angry now.
"This is not an easy task" Dumbledore said. "But… Barty? Maybe we should at least try to find a way to remove Harry from the Tournament?"
"I will speak with the Minister as soon as I leave Hogwarts. And we will arrange a meeting with the other ministries of Europe, and with the administration of Beauxbatons, Durmstrang and Hogwarts," Crouch said while looking at the headmasters. "We will try to get to the bottom of it. But in the meantime, Mr Potter is and will remain a champion of the Triwizard Tournament."
Despite the door being kept open for a future solution, Harry felt as if he was sinking in quicksand. No one seemed happy about the outcome of this evening. Except Bagman who spoke next, all smile.
"Well, shall we crack on, then?"
Harry barely registered what Mr Crouch was saying. He vaguely understood that the first task would take place at the end of November, but nothing was said except that they would face it only with their wands. In the meantime, Harry felt that his world was just turned upside down, and that his fourth year at Hogwarts just turned into hell. A hell he, like always, never asked for.
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