Chapter 12: The Goblet of Fire

Harry felt strangely distant from everyone around him, whether they wished him luck or muttered as they walked past him, «We'll have the packet of tissues ready, Potter. » He was in such a state that he didn't even care much about the test.

Time passed more strangely than ever, as if in leaps, so he was sitting in his first class, History of Magic, and the next moment he was going to eat... and immediately (where had the morning gone, the last few hours without Ginny's consoling presence?) Professor McGonagall entered the Great Hall and hurried to him. Many were watching them.

"The champions have to go down to the school grounds... You have to prepare for the first test. "

"OK! "Harry said, rising to his feet.

"Good luck, Harry," Hermione whispered. "Everything will be fine! "

"Yes," he answered, his voice not sounding like his own. He left the Great Hall with Professor McGonagall. He didn't seem the same either; in fact, he was almost as nervous as Hermione.

As he descended the stone steps and stepped out into the cold November afternoon, she put a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't panic," she advised, "Keep your head calm. There will be magicians ready to intervene if the situation gets out of hand... The main thing is that you do the best you can, and you won't look bad in front of people. Are you all right? "

"Yes," Harry heard himself say. "Yes, I'm fine. "

Harry saw a tent.

"You must go in with the other champions," Professor McGonagall said in a trembling voice, "and wait your turn, Potter. Mr. Bagman is inside. He will explain what you have to do... Good luck. "

"Thank you," Harry said in a distant, muffled voice. She left him at the door of the shop, and Harry went in. Fleur Delacour was sitting in a corner on a small wooden stool. It didn't seem nearly as safe as usual; On the contrary, she looked pale and sweaty. Viktor Krum's appearance was even more sullen than usual, and Harry guessed that this was his nervousness. Cedric paced back and forth. When Harry entered, he gave him a slight smile, which he reciprocated, although the muscles in his face struggled considerably, as if they had forgotten how to smile.

"Harry! Great! " Bagman said happily, looking at him. "Come, come, make yourself comfortable! Standing amid the pale champions, Well, now we're all here... It's time to catch up! " Bagman said happily. "When the spectators have arrived, I will offer this bag to each one of you so that you can take out the miniature of what you are going to have to deal with. And I have to tell you something else... Oh yes... your goal is to take the golden egg! "

Harry looked around. Cedric nodded to indicate that he understood Bagman's words and walked back into the store. His face was slightly green. Fleur Delacour and Krum didn't react at all. Maybe they thought they'd throw up if they opened their mouths; if anything, Harry didn't care. He was still too numb from the situation with Ginny.

And immediately he could hear around the store the footsteps of hundreds and hundreds of people talking excitedly, laughing, joking... Harry felt separated from the crowd as if he belonged to a different space. And then (it seemed to Harry that only a second had passed) Bagman opened the red silk bag.

"The ladies first," he said, handing it to Fleur Delacour. She reached a trembling hand into the bag and pulled out a perfect miniature of a dragon: Common Welsh Green. Around his neck was the number -two-.

And Harry was sure, from the fact that Fleur Delacour showed no surprise but complete resignation, that he had not been mistaken: Madame Maxime had told him what awaited her. The same is in the case of Krum, who brought out the Chinese fireball. Around his neck was the number –three–. Krum didn't even blink; He just stared at the floor. Cedric reached into the bag and pulled out the Swedish Short-Snout with the number –one– tied around its neck. Knowing what he had left, Harry reached into the silk bag and pulled out the Hungarian Horntail with the number –four– on it.

"Diggory, you're the first. You'll have to go out to the fence when you hear a whistle, okay? "

The whistle blew and Cedric went out, a few seconds later they heard the roar of the crowd, a sign that Cedric had just entered the enclosure and was already in front of the real version of his miniature. Sitting there and listening was worse than Harry could have imagined. The crowd screamed, stifled moans as one, as Cedric did anything to outwit the Swedish Short-Snout. Krum was still staring at the ground. Fleur had now taken Cedric's place, pacing up and down the store. And Bagman's comments made everything much worse...

Horrible images formed in Harry's mind as he heard: "Ah, how little has been missing, how little...! He's taking a risk, I think so...! That was very cunning, yes sir, too bad it didn't do you any good!" And then, after about fifteen minutes, Harry heard a deafening bellow that could only mean one thing: that Cedric had managed to outwit the dragon and take the golden egg.

"Very, very good!" Bagman shouted. "And now for the judges' score!"

But he didn't say the scores. Harry surmised that the judges were lifting them in the air to show them to the crowd.

"One that's already there, and there are three left!" Bagman shouted when the whistle blew again. "Mademoiselle Delacour, if you please us! "

Fleur trembled up and down. As she walked out of the tent with her head held high and gripping the wand firmly, Harry felt a kind of affection for her that he hadn't felt before.

He and Krum were left alone, on opposite sides of the tent, avoiding looking at each other. The same process was repeated.

"Oh, I'm not sure that was a good idea!" They heard Bagman shout, always enthusiastically. "¡Ah... almost! Be careful now... Oh my God, I thought I was going to take it! "

Ten minutes later, Harry heard the crowd clapping loudly again. Fleur, too, must have succeeded. A pause was made as Fleur's scores were displayed. There was more applause, and then, for the third time, the whistle blew.

"And here comes Mr. Krum!" Bagman announced as Krum came out with his lanky air, leaving Harry all alone.

He felt much more aware of his body than usual: he could feel the speed of his heart's pumping, the tingling of fear in his fingers. At the same time, it seemed to him that he was out of it: he saw the walls of the tent and heard the crowd as if they were far away.

"Very daring!" Bagman shouted, and Harry heard the Chinese fireball utter a frightful bellow, while the crowd held their breath as if they were one. "The truth is, he's showing courage and, yes, sirs, he's just taken the egg!"

The applause cracked the winter air like a fine crystal goblet. Krum was done, and it would be Harry's turn. He stood up, barely noticing that his legs looked like meringue. He waited. And then he heard the whistle. He walked out of the tent, feeling panic quickly take over his entire body. He saw it all before his eyes as if it were a dream of very vivid colors.

The crowd was screaming a lot, but Harry didn't know or care if it was shouts of support or not. It was time to do what he had to do: concentrate entirely and absolutely on what was his only possibility. He raised his wand.

"Accio Firebolt!" Cried. He waited, trusting and praying with all his being. If it didn't work, if the broomstick didn't come... while he waited, he placed on his clothes and head the anti-fire charm he learned from Charlie and Ginny... And then he heard it piercing through the air behind him.

He turned and saw the Firebolt fly over the edge of the forest, descend to the fence, and stop in mid-air beside him, waiting for him to mount it. The crowd was even more excited... Bagman was yelling something... but Harry's ears didn't work well anymore, because hearing wasn't important... He ran one leg over the broomstick and kicked the ground to pull himself up.

A second later something miraculous happened. As he rose and felt the lash of the air on his face, as the faces of the spectators turned into flesh-colored pinpoints, and as his horn tail shrank to the size of a dog, he realized that down there he had left not only the earth, but also the bewilderment: he was finally in his element.

That was just another Quidditch match... Nothing more, and the Horntail was simply the enemy team... He looked at the clutch and saw the golden egg shining amid the other cement-colored eggs, well protected between the dragon's front legs.

"Well," Harry said to himself, "diversionary tactics. Go ahead."

It plummeted. The horntail nodded behind him. He knew what the dragon was going to do, and just in time he slowed his descent and soared into the air. A stream of fire came right at the place where he would have been if he hadn't turned at the last moment. but Harry wasn't worried: it was the same as dodging a bludger.

"Good heavens, what a way to fly!" Bagman shouted, amid the shouts of the crowd. Have you seen that, Mr. Krum?"

Harry soared in circles. The horntail always followed its path, turning its head on its long neck. If he continued like this, he would get dizzy, but it was better not to abuse it or he would go back on fire.

Harry dove down just as the dragon was throwing its tail, but this time he was less lucky. He dodged the beast's tail, and as he veered to the left, he was hit by the flames, fortunately, it was a short contact and his enchantment made him only feel a tingle, and nothing burned. The crowd was screaming, but they calmed down when they saw that he had not been hurt. He flew over the horntail's back and a possibility occurred to him... The dragon did not seem willing to move from the spot: he was too anxious to protect the eggs, it was evident that he was afraid of straying too far from his young.

So, he had to persuade it to do so, or else he would never be able to get hold of the golden egg. The trick was to do it carefully, little by little. He began to fly, first on one side, then on the other, not too close to keep him from spewing fire from his mouth but risking everything necessary to make sure the beast didn't take its eyes off him. The dragon's head swung to and fro, looking at him through those vertical pupils, baring its fangs...

He took flight a bit. The dragon's head rose with him, elongating its neck as long as possible and still swinging like a snake before the enchanter. Harry rose a couple of feet higher, and the dragon let out a roar of exasperation. Harry was like a fly to him, a fly he longed to crush. He whipped his tail again, but Harry was too high to catch up. Opening his jaws, he took a breath of fire... that he managed to dodge.

"Let's go! Harry challenged him mockingly, turning on the dragon to provoke him. Come on, come get me...! Get up, let's go..."

The huge beast finally rose, and Harry swooped down. Before the dragon could understand what Harry was doing or what he had gotten himself into, he was hurtling to the ground, toward the eggs that were finally unprotected.

He let go of the Firebolt's hands... And he took the golden egg. And he escaped with full throttle, soaring over the stands, with the heavy egg safely under his unharmed arm. Suddenly it was as if someone had turned up the volume again: for the first time he became aware of the noise of the crowd, which clapped and shouted as loudly as the Irish fans at the World Cups.

"Look at that!" Bagman shouted. "Look! Our youngest paladin was the fastest to pick up the egg! Well, this increases our friend Potter's chances!" Harry saw the dragons' keepers rushing to cut down the horntail; and Professor McGonagall, Professor Moody, and Hagrid, who were hurrying to meet him from the gate of the enclosure, beckoning him to come nearer. Even from a distance, he could see their smiles. He flew over the stands, the noise of the crowd rumbling through his eardrums, and landed softly, with a bliss he hadn't felt since his beating. He had passed the first test, he was alive...

"Excellent, Potter! Professor McGonagall said loudly as he stepped down from the Firebolt. "You've got to go see Mrs. Pomfrey before the judges show the score... Out there, she's already finishing up with Diggory."

"You did it, Harry!" Hagrid said hoarsely.

"Thank you, Hagrid," Harry said.

Professor Moody also seemed delighted. The magic eye kept spinning.

"The best, simple, and good, Potter," he said.

"Very well, Potter. Go to the first-aid tent, please," Professor McGonagall told him.

Harry came out of the enclosure, still panting, and saw Mrs. Pomfrey at the entrance to the second shop, who looked worried.

"Dragons!" She exclaimed indignantly, pulling Harry inwards. The store was divided into cubicles.

Mrs. Pomfrey examined Harry, grumbling all the while. "Last year dementors, this year dragons... What will you bring to school next year? You've been very lucky: you haven't hurt yourself. Who hit you, Potter? Despite the potion you drank, I can see the bruises on your face."

"It was an accident," Harry muttered, not wanting to talk about it.

"Well, now sit still for a minute. Seated! Then you can go and see your score." She hurried out of the cubicle.

Harry couldn't sit still: he was still too adrenaline-fueled. He stood up to peek into the door, but before she could reach it two people rushed in: Hermione and, immediately behind her, Ron.

"Harry, you've been great!" Hermione said in a squeaky voice. "She had nail marks on her face, where she had squeezed in fear. Amazing! Really!"

But Harry looked at Ron, who was very white, and looked at Harry as if he were a ghost.

"Harry," Ron said gravely, "whoever put your name on the Goblet of Fire, I think he wanted to kill you."

It was as if the last few weeks hadn't existed, as if Harry had seen Ron for the first time after being voted champion.

"You got it, huh?" Harry replied coldly. "It's been hard work."

Hermione stood between them, nervous, looking from one to the other. Ron opened his mouth hesitantly. Harry realized that he wanted to apologize and understood that he didn't need to hear the excuses.

"All right," he said before Ron could speak. Never mind.

Ron was still blaming himself when Ginny came in and ran to Harry, threw herself into his arms, and showered kisses on his face as she told him how happy she was that he hadn't been hurt, while still asking for forgiveness.

Harry hugged her tightly, feeling like he could breathe again after several hours, he had missed her so much. They began kissing until they were out of breath but their friends interrupted them.

"Come on, Harry, they're about to give you the score."

Taking the Golden Egg and the Firebolt, more elated than he would have thought possible, Harry walked out of the tent.

"You've been the best, no comparison. Cedric did a rather strange thing: he transformed a rock into a Labrador retriever so that the dragon would attack the dog and forget about it. The transformation was pretty good, and in the end, it worked, because he managed to catch the egg, but he also got a good burn because the dragon suddenly changed his mind and decided that he was more interested in Diggory than the Labrador. He narrowly escaped. And Fleur tried a kind of incantation... I think I wanted to put him in a trance, or something. The fact is that it worked, he fell asleep, but suddenly he snored and put out a good stream of fire. Her skirt caught on. He put it out by pouring water from his wand. And as for Krum... You won't believe it, but he didn't think of the possibility of flying. However, I think that after you he is the one who has done it best. He used some kind of spell that he threw into his eyes. The problem was that the dragon began to stagger and crushed half of the real eggs. He's been deducted points for that because he wasn't supposed to cause any harm.

"Each one gives a score out of ten," Ron explained.

Squinting, Harry saw Madame Maxime, the first of the court, raise her wand, from which came what looked like a long silver ribbon twisting into a figure-eight.

"That's unfair!" Hermione said as the crowd applauded. "You didn't make any mistakes."

Then it was Mr. Crouch's turn, and he projected a ten into the air.

"Very nice!" Ron shouted, tapping Harry on the back. Then it was Dumbledore's turn. He, too, projected a ten, and the crowd cheered louder than before. Ludo Bagman: a ten.

And then Karkarov raised his wand. He paused for a moment, then projected another number into the air: a 6.

"What?" Ron squealed angrily. "A six? Partisan and lousy pig, you gave Krum a ten!"

But Harry didn't care. He wouldn't have minded, even if Karkarov had given him a zero.

"You're tied for first place, Harry! You and Krum!" Charlie Weasley said, rushing to meet her on their way back to school. "I'm running away. I had to get there to send an owl to Mom; I promised him that I would tell him what had happened. But it's been incredible!"

o-o-o-o

The days that followed were the best. Harry enjoyed the attention in a new way, he felt uninhibited, happy, and enthusiastic about the future. It felt like a dream all the time.

When Professor McGonagall's irritated voice cracked like a whip in Thursday's Transits class, both Harry and Ron were startled. The class was winding down. They had finished the job: the guinea fowl they had been transforming into guinea pigs were kept in a large cage placed on Professor McGonagall's table

The bell was going to ring at any moment. When Harry and Ron, who had been wrestling with two of Fred and George's sticking wands as swords, looked up, Ron was holding a tin parrot, and Harry was holding a rubber hake.

"Now that Potter and Weasley will be kind enough to behave according to their age," Professor McGonagall said, giving them both an angry look as the head of Harry's hake fell to the ground (suddenly cut off by the beak of Ron's tin parrot), "I have something to tell you.

"The Christmas ball is approaching: it is a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and is at the same time a good opportunity to interact with our foreign guests. Only students from fourth grade onwards will go to the dance, although if they wish they can invite a younger student...

Lavender Brown let out a shrill chuckle. Parvati Patil elbowed him in the ribs, trying hard not to laugh too, and the two looked at Harry.

Professor McGonagall ignored them, which seemed unfair to Harry since he and Ron had been scolded.

"The gala robe will be compulsory," Professor McGonagall went on. "The ball will take place in the Great Hall, beginning at eight o'clock on Christmas Day and ending at midnight." Professor McGonagall scanned the room very slowly with her eyes. "The Christmas ball is, of course, an opportunity for all of us to enjoy," she said, disapprovingly.

Lavender laughed louder, putting his hand over his mouth to drown out the sound. Harry understood where the fun was this time: Professor McGonagall, who wore her hair in a tight bun, didn't seem to be enjoying herself in any way.

"But that doesn't mean," Professor McGonagall continued, "that we're going to demand less of the behavior we expect from Hogwarts students. I shall be very seriously upset if any pupil of Gryffindor leaves the school in a bad light."

The bell rang, and the usual commotion ensued as they gathered their things and slung their backpacks over their shoulders.

Professor McGonagall called out over the commotion, "Potter, please, I want to talk to you. " Assuming it had something to do with his headless toothfish, Harry walked over to the teacher's table with a grim expression.

Professor McGonagall waited until the rest of the class had left, then said, "Potter, surely Ginevra must have told you."

"Ginevra? Harry asked, suddenly lost by the name."

Professor McGonagall looked at him suspiciously, as if she thought he was trying to tease her. "Miss Weasley, Potter," she said coldly. "Surely, she already told you that you need a dance partner."

Harry felt his gut clench. "Dance partner?" He felt it turn red. "I don't dance," he hastened to say.

"Yes, of course, you dance," replied Professor McGonagall, somewhat irritably. "That's what I wanted to tell you. It is tradition for the champions and their partners to open the dance."

Harry suddenly imagined himself in ridiculous attire, stepping on Ginny's feet.

"I don't dance," he insisted.

"It's tradition," Professor McGonagall said firmly. "You are a Hogwarts champion, and you will do what is expected of you as a representative of the school. Plus, you don't want to disappoint Ginevra."

Harry didn't dare say anything to the last sentence. He didn't want to disappoint her. Over the next few days, very strange things happened.

A curly-haired Hufflepuff girl who was in third grade and whom Harry had never spoken to asked him to come to the dance with her. Harry was so surprised that he said no before he knew what was going on. The girl left quite hurt, and Harry had to endure the whole History of Magic class being teased by Dean, Seamus, and Ron about her. The next day he was asked for two more, one in the second and (to Harry's horror) another in the fifth that looked like she might hit him if he refused.

"Don't that girls know you have a girlfriend?" Hermione still wasn't on good terms with Ginny, but she couldn't help but defend her position. "They haven´t shamed to dare to ask you."

Harry agreed with her, his relationship was well known, and quite public after Rita Skeeter published a lurid article about how Ginny was an evil fortune teller who had caught an innocent orphan in her nets knowing that he would have a successful future.

"Dude, it's fortunate Ginny didn't find out," Ron said as he rubbed his head, remembering the blows his sister had given him to make him come to his senses when he distanced himself from Harry. "She's crazy, and she'd be able to pull their hair out."

"You should tell her," Hermione said, and when both boys began to protest the idea, she cut them off. "It will be worse if she finds out from the rumors, you know her, Ron is right, she is capable of many things. By the way, have you asked her to be your partner yet?

"She's my girlfriend, Hermione," Harry said mockingly as if she had asked a silly question. "It's obvious she's going with me."

"Harry, you don't understand anything! You have to ask her, any girl would expect it, it doesn't matter if she's your girlfriend." She said, angry at his stubbornness.

Luckily for him, he followed both of Hermione's advice, and Ginny was delighted when he formally invited her to the dance. And he was glad he told her about the invitations he received because he could barely contain her when he pounced on the third-grader, even the twins had to intervene to restrain her as they died of laughter.

"Why are you so angry, Ginny" She only invited him to the dance, so did many others," Ron said.

"Turn your nose away, Ron, if you don't want me to let her go," Fred warned, shaking his head at his sister, as he continued to forcibly hug her. "Well, does everyone have a partner for the dance yet?"

"No," Ron said.

"Well, you'd better hurry, or they'll beat all the pretty ones," said Fred.

"Who are you going with?" Ron wanted to know.

"With Angelina," Fred replied quickly, without a hint of embarrassment.

"What?" Ron exclaimed, surprised. "Have you asked her yet?"

"That's a good question," Fred said. He turned his head and shouted, "Hey, Angelina!"

Angelina, who was chatting with Alicia Spinnet near the fire, turned to him.

"What?" Asked.

"Do you want to go with me to the ball?"

Angelina gave Fred an appreciative look. "Well, yes," she agreed and turned to continue talking to Alice, with a faint smile on his face.

"You see," Fred told Harry and his younger siblings, "a piece of cake. Have you calmed down enough, Ginny?"

Ginny was still locked between her twin brothers, still furious, but already calm, so she just nodded and her brothers let her go. Finally leaving the Gryffindor room.

As soon as they left, Ron looked over to Harry, who grabbed Ginny's hand and refused to let go. "We'd have to do something, you know. Ask someone. Fred is right: I can take down a troll."

Hermione let out a snort of indignation. "A what, excuse me?"

"Well, you know," Ron said, shrugging. "I'd rather go alone than with... with Eloise Midgen, for example."

"Her acne is doing a lot better lately. And she's very nice!"

"She's got a crooked nose," Ron objected.

"I see," Hermione exclaimed angrily. "So, basically, you're going to try to go with the prettiest girl you can, even if she's a scary person."

"Ey... well, yes, that sounds pretty good," Ron said.

"I'm going to bed," Hermione snapped, and without another word, she went out to the stairs that led to the girls' bedroom.

Ginny just laughed and snuggled up against her boyfriend smiling, forgetting her anger. Harry looked at her not understanding what was funny to her, but she just smiled at him and shook her head without bothering to explain. Hermione was too obtuse about feelings, she didn't understand that she had to explain things to her brother with sticks and balls, otherwise, she would never understand her.

As for the egg's clue... it was surprising to Harry that Ginny started really and actively helping him. She told him what he needed to do to decipher the egg and helped him interpret the message. If anything could make his life easier, she would do it.

From that moment on, she no longer cared about rules, morals, or honor.

:d