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"Harry … mate, she's a Veela!" Ron exclaimed excitedly, his gaze still fixated on Fleur's departure, not bothering to turn his head to address his friends.
Hermione shot Ron a disapproving look, and her reply came out as an indignant huff. "I highly doubt that, and even if that is true, it should not matter. She is a witch after all," she sated firmly before directing her attention toward Harry. "You have been learning French? When did that start? That is … actually very considerate."
But Ron, ever persistent, could not resist the urge to interject once more. "I know she's a witch, Hermione, but I'm telling you she's not your run-of-the-mill girl. They don't make them like that that around here." He added with a chuckle, his tone clearly filled with admiration over Fleur's beauty.
Harry shook his head in concern as he observed his friends' reactions. He watched Hermione whipped her head around to fix Ron with a firm glare, a clear manifestation of her disapproval.
"Ron," Harry whispered firmly, his tone carrying an undertone of admonishment, finally drawing his friend's attention from the object of his desire. "Grow up a little bit. She is a person, not a piece of meat. I am sure she gets attitude like that quite frequently. I'd wager she would appreciate being treated like a person … and for what it is worth, I think they make them plenty fine here at Hogwarts."
Ron's gaze drifted down to his plate, and he appeared to choose the wiser course of silence, acknowledging that he might be in the minority on this particular issue. As Harry turned his attention towards Hermione, her head immediately dropped to her plate as well. For just a fleeting moment, he could swear he saw the hint of a blush beginning to grace her cheeks, a reaction that didn't go unnoticed.
As yet another delicious meal came to an end, and all the empty plates magically disappeared, Harry's nerves were like a swarm of startled owls in his chest. His uneasy gaze shifted up toward the head table, and more specifically, it fixed on Professor Dumbledore. He knew what was about to unfold, and the anticipation was almost suffocating … although he knew as bad as today was it would pale in comparison to the following night.
Professor Dumbledore, rose from his chair with the grace and authority that always commanded attention, even from the foreign students. As he began to expound upon the rules and expectations for the upcoming Triwizard Tournament, Harry was certain he could have heard a transfigured Quaffle drop to the ground, so profound was the silence in the Great Hall. Even the mischievous antics of the Weasley twins were conspicuously absent. The students' silence was only momentarily broken by the faint, polite applause that followed as Professor Dumbledore introduced his esteemed fellow judges: Mr. Bagman, Mr. Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, and the imposing Madame Maxime.
The atmosphere was charged with tension, as the entire hall had been fixed on Professor Dumbledore and what he had been saying up until this point. However, that focus quickly shifted dramatically as when the doors to the Entrance Hall opened and a majestic casket, that Harry knew contained the Goblet of Fire, made its grand entrance.
This was the moment the Hogwarts students had been waiting for, and the unnatural silence that had managed to grip the Great Hall was finally broken. Excitement and curiosity ran through the crowd as the casket made its procession towards the teachers' table, casting an aura of mystery and anticipation that seemed to infect everyone present. The students couldn't help themselves, as hushed whispers and speculations filled the air as they all sought to unravel the secret that lay within the casket.
In a way that seemed to be almost choreographed, Dumbledore finished his speech at the very moment that Filch, the ever-grumpy caretake, dropped the casket heavily on the floor in front of the teachers' table. The loud, hollow sound reverberated through the Great Hall, making everyone jump and cease whispering as they craned their necks for a better look.
Professor Dumbledore, seized the opportunity to capitalize on the sudden attention. With an air of palpable excitement, he announced, "And now without further ado, the moment you have been waiting for! Allow me to present the impartial selector responsible for assessing the merit of the applicants and choosing the champions who will bear the honor and privledge of representing their respective school … I present you, the GOBLET OF FIRE!" Dumbledore exclaimed enthusiastically, tapping the top of the casket three times.
The low hum of conversation which had started to swell as the Goblet's casket had made its way down the center of the room, was instantly quelled. All eyes were fixed on Dumbledore reached into the casket retrieving … a seemingly unremarkable goblet, causing a sense of collective disappointment to sweep through most of the students present.
This disappointment was short-lived, as when Professor Dumbledore theatrically placed the Goblet of Fire on its casket, the room was treated to a captivating display. Blue flames burst forth from the goblet's rim and danced with an ethereal grace, eliciting gasps of awe from the audience. Dumbledore's stare, warm and reassuring, acknowledged the anticipation that had gripped the students. They once again huddled in excited murmurs, unable to take their eyes off the enchanted goblet.
The headmaster once again regained the students attention with a polite clearing of his voice before he continued his speech, "From this moment forth, you have a span of twenty-four hours in which to enter yourself in the tournament. Those among you who aspire to become champions and meet the age criteria for the tournament, your identities will be revealed to those gathered after tomorrow's Halloween Feast, in a most dramatic fashion. In order to prevent temptation for the underage students … I personally will be drawing the Age Line around the Goblet of Fire. If anyone here wishes to seize the opportunity to represent your school, the Goblet of Fire will be moved to the center of the Entrance Hall, just outside the doors at the back of the room, where it shall await your entries."
Professor Dumbledore's smile radiated warmth as he gazed upon the students who, once more, had burst into excited whispers. He allowed the buzz of conversation to ripple through the Great Hall for a brief moment, indulging their anticipation before raising his hands and gracefully motioning for silence.
Then, in his trademark wise and measured tone, he continued on. "Most importantly," he began, "I implore any of you considering entry into the tournament to take a moment to reflect on your choice. This tournament is fraught with risks, and although we have taken precautions, the tasks that await the champions will challenge you in ways you may not fully comprehend yet. They will demand not only physical strength but also emotional and mental resilience. And, my dear students, you will face these trials alone, forced to draw upon every ounce of your creativity and magical prowess to surmount seemingly impossible challenges. This is not a competition for the faint of heart, for once you are selected, you willingly enter into a magically binding contract — an enchantment forgotten to time … even to me!" His playful laugh resonated throughout the hall, drawing a chorus of laughter from the Hogwarts students.
Dumbledore paused, his gaze sweeping over the rapt audience assembled before him, seeming to establish eye contact with each student. Then, he resumed, "I truly implore any of you with thoughts of competing to delve deep within yourselves before submitting your names ..."
But suddenly smiling, Dumbledore swiftly pivoted from this somber note. "Now, on that that serious note, I believe that's enough of that. This tournament, beyond the challenges, presents an incredible opportunity for fame and glory. And, of course, I'm sure the allure of the prize galleons is motivation enough for some." His eyes twinkled with amusement.
With a kind and encouraging smile, he concluded, "I wish you all a delightful evening and extend my best wishes to those aspiring champions in this room. I am definitely looking forward to tomorrow evening. Goodnight, everyone!" With a graceful turn, he led the teachers and guest judges out of the room, leaving the students to excitedly converse amongst themselves, most of their eyes trained on the mysterious Goblet of Fire as they did so.
Amid the lingering buzz of whispers and anticipation in the Great Hall, Fred Weasley couldn't help but chortle after the teachers finished their exit. His laughter rang out, "An Age Line!" he exclaimed with a grin, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Well now, that can't be too difficult to outsmart now, can it? What do you think, George?" He inquired, directing his mischievous gaze across the table towards his identical twin.
George, mirrord his brother's grin, a conspiratorial spark in his eyes. "I believe, dear Fred, we might just have the perfect thing up our sleeves to outwit that Age Line," he replied, sharing a look of understanding with his twin.
Harry swiveled his head towards Fred, and then to George. "So are you …" he started to ask, his voice trailing off momentarily as he shifted his attention between the twins. "Are you both considering entering the tournament?"
The twins paused for just a fraction of a second, their eyes locking onto one another in a silent exchange that only they could decipher. It was as if they communicated with a mere glance, sharing their intentions without uttering a word. Then, at the same time, they responded in perfect unison, "No, we are not."
This unexpected response sent ripples of astonishment through the crowd, particularly those in the immediate vicinity who had all but expected the Weasley twins to perceive the age line's restrictions as an irresistible challenge. However, it was Harry who was most taken aback, his memory vividly replaying the image of the twins sporting impressive beards, a result of their previous attempt to breach the age line. His eyebrows shot up in surprise.
Fred met Harry's gaze, a playful smirk tugging at his lips, as he playfully shook his head in mock indignation. "What's with that judgmental expression, Harry! You wound us," he quipped, feigning hurt. "After all, it's a well-known Hogwarts fact that George and I have a deep and abiding respect for the rules."
George, the other half of this entertaining double act, chimed in with a theatrical nod of agreement, a twinkle in his eye that was impossible to ignore. He deftly ignored Hermione's skeptical huff in response to his twin's statement. "Indeed, my dear brother. We hold the rules of this esteemed institution in the highest regard," George declared with exaggerated solemnity. "That being said," he added with a sly grin, "we may have, theoretically, already devised a few strategies to overcome whatever clever safeguards that might have been employed to protect against underage students. And we've got just the idea that will outsmart this one."
Fred's nod of agreement was accompanied by an appreciative slap on Harry's back. "Indeed, it's all thanks to you, Harry, that we've decided not to participate," he revealed with a grateful smile.
Harry, ever curious and intrigued by this sudden turn of events, looked at Fred and then George with an air of surprise. "Me? How do you figure that?"
Fred's grin broadened as he began to explain. "Well," he began, "thanks to your advice during the summer, it actually paid off in spades for us. We're no longer stuck in a situation where we're in need of money. So, why take unnecessary risks, especially when you consider what Dumbledore said? Why put our lives on the line … when we could be dedicating our time and effort to other ventures, potentially more promising ones."
George acknowledged his brother's words with an approving nod, offering a hearty pat on Fred's back. "Spot on, Fred, spot on," he chimed in. As the last of the teachers made their way out of the Great Hall, he swiftly scanned the room to ensure they were unobserved. Satisfied that it was safe to proceed, George sprang onto a nearby bench, turning to face the students who were still scattered about, heading for the exit.
With enthusiasm, he raised his voice for all to hear. "Did you catch that, everyone?" George called out, his words carrying over the hubbub of the departing students. "For those of you who interested in representing your school as a champion but find themselves unfairly thwarted by a pesky little Age Line, fear not! Seek out Fred or myself, and for a reasonable fee, we can offer you the solution to your current dilemma."
He paused for a moment, allowing a group of Slytherins from a younger year to pass by. Then, with a playful smirk, George couldn't resist adding, "Well, a reasonable price for nearly everyone!"
Fred joined his twin on the bench, the two of them standing side by side, matching grins lighting up their faces. In their usual spirited manner, he called out to the crowd, "That's right, folks! If you've got the ambition, we've got the solution!"
Pausing to look around he began to chant, "Not of age? Do not fear! Come engage! Your answer's here!"
The twins grabbed each others' shoulders and gracefully leaped from the bench, landing on the floor in perfect synchrony. They then proceeded to skip down the aisle, past everyone who had remained in the Great Hall, chanting that refrain, their voices harmonizing horribly as they headed toward the exit.
Harry observed their spirited exit, unable to prevent his laughter from escaping when he noticed that the twins' departure was swiftly emulated by several students who Harry was confident would be barred from crossing the Age Line, including their friend Seamus.
Shifting his gaze back to Ron and Hermione, Harry couldn't help but notice his best friend's wistful expression as he watched his brothers vanish out of the room. Ron's thoughts appeared to be deep in contemplation, likely at the offer the twins had just extended.
Harry's laughter echoed softly in the air as he focussed his attention to Ron, teasing curiosity in his voice. "Are you considering taking the twins up on their offer?" he asked.
Ron's eyes widened in astonishment at the tone of Harry's response. "You aren't?" he exclaimed, genuinely surprised. "Even if they've found a way to outsmart that Age Line?"
Harry regarded his friend with a serious and unwavering expression, gently shaking his head to emphasize his point. "No, Ron," he replied firmly, his voice carrying the weight of conviction. "There's honestly nothing they could offer me that would make me even consider trying to become a champion. You heard what Professor Dumbledore said about the risks involved. What amount of money or fame could ever be worth risking my life for? I mean, sure, I've got a few spells I am good at, but we're talking about sixth and seventh-year students competing. If it's supposed to be exceptionally challenging for them ... Honestly, who among our class possesses the knowledge and skill to compete at that level?"
He paused briefly, nodding in the direction of their friend Hermione, who had remained quiet during the conversation. "Well, except maybe for Hermione, of course."
Harry couldn't help but chuckle as he observed the rapid transformation of emotions on Hermione's face. First, there was the unmistakable pride at the compliment, quickly followed by a look of sheer horror at the mere suggestion that she might entertain such a foolhardy notion after having been so clearly warned about the grave dangers involved.
Harry turned back to Ron, his expression a mix of contemplation and sincerity. "The fame?" he posed as a rhetorical question, his voice carrying a tinge of exasperation. "I've pretty much had my fill of fame. It didn't do me any favors during my second year when, except for you two," he nodded toward Ron and Hermione, "it seemed like the entire school turned against me because of a rumor."
A solemn shake of his head followed as Harry regarded his friends. "No, thank you, Ron," he continued, his words brimming with conviction. "If I had my choice, I'd gladly bid farewell to all the fame and settle into a life of anonymity, surrounded by the people that I love."
A smile graced Harry's face as he observed the varied reactions of his two closest companions. Hermione, her admiration for his reasoning evident, struggled to hide a smile as she nodded in agreement. Meanwhile, Ron appeared deep in thought, his expression suggesting that he was thinking over Harry's words but had not yet reached a definitive conclusion.
Harry's voice remained firm as he continued, "For what it's worth, I promise you right here and now, there is absolutely no way I'd ever willingly enter that ridiculous tournament ..." He paused briefly, his disgust evident in the way he spat out his next words. "... although, with my luck, I'll probably end up being entered into it anyway … It would fit the pattern, wouldn't it?"
Ron and Hermione exchanged slightly puzzled glances before looking back to Harry.
Harry, wearing a small, knowing smile, began to recount the events of his previous years at Hogwarts. "Come on, you two," he urged, "honestly, it's like danger goes out of its way to find me. If I didn't know any better … I'd say Death has a personal vendetta against me."
His friends slowly nodded. "First year," he continued, "I was practically set up to run into Quirrel with Voldemort ..." He paused, noting the shudder that ran through his friends at the mere mention of the name. Harry knew he was one of the few who didn't shy away from using Voldemort's name, and he believed that it was about time for his friends to began confronting their fear head-on, as it was the best way to dismantle the fear it inspired.
He starred at Hermione directly, as he began speaking, his voice gentle but firm. "Honestly, you two, there's no reason to be afraid of the name, especially you, Hermione. It's just a name. You didn't grow up in the wizarding world, and sure, Riddle was an evil person, but even non-magical history is riddled with evil people. I refuse to elevate the man who killed my parents to some mythical pedestal and allow his name to have power over me."
Hermione, understanding the reasoning behind his words, nodded in agreement. Then, Harry turned to Ron, who, though more reluctantly, offered a nod of acknowledgment.
Harry continued with his recollection. "But yeah, in first year, I found myself facing Quirrel's attempt to kill me for Voldemort," he stated, taking note of his friends' shudders at the use of the name. Although as their reaction was not as intense as it had been before, he decided to let it pass without an additional comment. "Second year," Harry went on, "after the entire school turned their backs on me ..." He caught the pained expression on Hermione's face and quickly amended, "... after most of the school turned their backs on me, I had to confront Tom Riddle alone, which ended up preventing his return and saving Ginny."
This time, it was Ron's hurt expression that gave Harry pause. He turned to his friend, empathy in his eyes. "I know, Ron," Harry said softly. "I know you were ready to stand by me the whole way. But that's my point. Even when others are willing to help, it always seems like I'm the one who ends up facing the danger alone."
Harry's frustration was palpable as he shook his head, his voice tinged with exasperation. "And then, last year," he recounted, "I spent the entire year being tormented by Dementors. Before I had to fight off those soul-sucking creatures to prevent both myself and Sirius from facing the Dementor's Kiss."
Harry's voice held a tinge of resignation as he finished his thoughts. "So you see, it's basically turned into a twisted annual tradition for me, and why should I expect this year to be any different?" He paused, locking eyes with his friends. "This is why, despite my complete lack of interest in participating in the competition, I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if I end up in that stupid tournament."
His frustration was evident as he shook his head and aimlessly kicked at the ground. Tomorrow held an event he was dreading — the Triwizard Tournament's Champion drawing ceremony. Every bone in his body wanted him to storm into Dumbledore's office and accuse Barty Crouch Jr. of impersonating Mad-Eye Moody and plotting to put his name into the Goblet of Fire. But deep down, he knew he needed to at least allow Barty Crounch Jr. from believing he had the upper hand.
Deep down he knew that it was the wisest course of action as it would allow him time to prepare, to figure out how to prevent Voldemort's. He knew that if he tipped his hand it would be that much more difficult to thwart Voldemort's return and deep down that was the only thing Harry was focused on.
Harry's gaze shifted to Hermione, his surprise evident when he discovered her looking at him with a slightly pitying expression.
Hermione took a deep breath and locked eyes with Harry, her voice calm and reassuring. "Don't worry, Harry," she began, "Dumbledore mentioned that the cup is well-protected and enchanted with ancient magic. It's highly unlikely that just anyone could get your name in there."
Harry looked at Hermione, attempting to maintain a neutral expression even though his skepticism was brewing beneath the surface. He managed a meager nod in response.
Seeing his nod, Hermione continued with an encouraging smile. "And even if your bad luck were to persist," she stated, "we ..." She paused briefly, turning to face Ron for a moment before pivoting back to Harry. "... we will be there to help you, just as we always are."
Harry's smile grew as he directed his gratitude toward Hermione. "Thanks, Hermione. I really appreciate the sentiment," he replied warmly. "But let's hope it doesn't come to that. I'd much prefer to just sit back and watch the other competitors risking their lives against the dragons.
At Harry's mention of dragons, Ron's complexion lost some of its color, his eyes widening in shock. Hermione, meanwhile, arched an inquisitive eyebrow. "Dragons?" she asked.
Harry's eyes widened and he responded quickly, "Well … Dragons or Sphinxes or Manticores or Giants or whatever impossible tasks they've got in store for the champions."
He silently chastised himself for letting slip a hint of the tournament's challenges. The pressure of the upcoming event had caused him to momentarily lapse in his discretion. However, it seemed that both Ron and Hermione bought his explanation, and they nodded in understanding.
Harry, looking for a change of topic, shifted his attention to Ron with an earnest expression. "And I want to thank you too, Ron," he began. "For what it's worth, if you really want to try to get your name into the competition, I'm here to help in any way I can."
Ron's pallor quickly transformed into a broad grin, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm, a large smile on his face. "Thanks, mate!" he responded with genuine excitement and appreciation. "I'll let you know … maybe we should pop by the twins and see what they have been working on … it wouldn't hurt to look."
Hermione shook her head, her exasperation evident, and turned to lead her friends out of the now-empty Great Hall. Harry couldn't help but smile as he overheard her muttering under her breath about how immature they were.
Same as Smithback - Thanks so much, I am really glad to hear that
Guest - This is a Harry/Hermione/Fleur story but relationships are developed slowly
LoonyRebekahJane - I am glad you found the story and are enjoying it, I like the Harry and HErmione stories, especially cause deep down her ending up with Ron guts me. Thanks for the heads up. Ah ya that had been pointed out and as I have been editting future chapters I have been trying to go back and edit previous ones
Bakeku67 - Ah ya he is, but he is developing
EP - Thanks so much, you are welcome!
fortinpatric - You are most welcome!
hunzbookwyrm - I am glad you are enjoying it! Hope this chapter was as enjoyable!
alix33 - Well Krum had been told something ...
jkarr - Harry is slowly developing a backbone, and while I do think Ron wasn't necessarily a bad person I do think there were moments he needed to be called out on stuff
zega606 - I am glad you saw that and are enjoying the story!
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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.