"Do you think the Ageing Potion can deceive the age line set by Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione asked me, pursing her lips as she watched the excited Weasley twins and Lee Jordan discussing. "Professor Dumbledore must have considered this situation, right? I don't think they can fool him. To be honest, this is irresponsible to themselves. Those three tasks must be extremely dangerous — ouch!"

She was pushed several times by a large group of girls squeezing to get Krum's autograph. Fortunately, there were so many people around that she didn't fall to the ground directly. She let go of the clothes of a Durmstrang student that she had grabbed in a hurry just now. "Sorry, I didn't mean to —"

Then she stared wide - eyed at Viktor Krum, who had politely supported her arm, swallowed her apology and turned around to leave.

"Why should I apologize to the one who caused all this?" she said, frowning tightly as she pulled me along (I was still looking around, trying to spot my mother in some corner). "I don't understand. Isn't the fame of a Quidditch superstar enough for him? If he becomes the champion of Durmstrang, will those girls go crazy..."

"Do you dislike him because Ron Weasley likes him so much?" I tilted my head at her.

Actually, I said it casually. I didn't even know why I suddenly came to this conclusion.But Hermione stopped as if she had run head - on into a Impediment Jinx. Her mouth hung open for a while, then she said, "No one likes it when someone keeps saying a name in their ear all day, right?"

Even though there were less than twenty extra people in Hogwarts, it seemed that even passing through the Entrance Hall smoothly had become a difficult task. We couldn't see anything. Black and Potter stood on tiptoe to look ahead and told us that the headmaster of Durmstrang seemed to be talking to Longbottom. Then Professor Moody pushed through the crowd and said a few more words to them, and the people in front began to disperse slowly.

"This is normal. There are even many books in Asia that mention Neville," Hermione said impatiently as she saw all of us looking at her. "Of course I read the English translation! But if the runes I've already chosen weren't a bit difficult, I really would like to take another language outside the Latin language family — what's so surprising about that?"

The existence of the Goblet of Fire made no one want to sleep in this Saturday. Everyone gathered around the Entrance Hall, craning their necks, eager to know who had put their names in. It was rather embarrassing. I had to agree with what Potter said in the common room last night. If he wanted to put his name in, he would never do it in full view of everyone — those of us who knew he had an Invisibility Cloak all laughed.

The Weasley twins clearly didn't think so. They might as well have walked around the Great Hall before putting their names into the Goblet of Fire. Hermione, who had failed to persuade Hagrid to join with a box of badges in her arms, shook her head. "Dumbledore must have considered this kind of thing."

"Dear Hermione," Fred Weasley (I could tell them apart at last as I saw the note in his hand) said, "A lot of people think that to deceive the greatest wizard of our time, one must use the most profound magic. However, in fact, the more accomplished a person is, the more likely they are to overlook simple loopholes — they think it beneath them, you see?"

Hermione clearly wasn't convinced by this reasoning. She folded her arms.

"A thousand Galleons! If one of us wins, we'll split it," George Weasley's eyes sparkled. ("I don't understand, Ron. They just won a huge sum of money at the Quidditch World Cup!" "You can never have too much money, Hermione.")

For a moment, we all thought they had succeeded because they actually stepped across the age line and reached the bottom of the Goblet of Fire. But it was only for a moment. With a huge explosion sound, they were literally thrown out and had an intimate encounter with the cold ground. When the smoke cleared, we all burst out laughing because white, bushy beards, exactly like those of Professor Dumbledore himself, had sprouted from the chins of the Weasley twins.

"A very nice theory that makes me reflect, Mr. Weasley," Professor Dumbledore emerged from the Great Hall, his voice deep, looking amused. "I think that's why your beards are much more beautiful than those of others who tried to deceive the age line. Go to Madam Pomfrey. She has enough potions ready there to restore you."

Throughout the day, everyone was vigorously discussing which students from which houses had put their slips of paper into the Goblet of Fire. The senior students who signed up for their houses were greeted with enthusiastic applause. When Angelina Johnson put her name into the Goblet of Fire, the Gryffindors heaved a sigh of relief. They would rather have Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff as a champion than Warrington from Slytherin. Of course, more people were still imagining that they were old enough, and some had already started daydreaming about the scene of themselves winning the trophy in the next Triwizard Tournament.

"We'll graduate by the next tournament," Potter said regretfully, tossing and catching the Golden Snitch model in his hand. "Talus, do you think... can that age line tell an Animagus?"

"Aren't we a bit slow? Otherwise, we could have given it a try," Black said, flipping through the homework in his hand. "At worst, we'd just grow some beards. I don't care."

After hearing their conversation, I silently shrank back in my chair and continued reading the Occlumency notes in my hand. It seemed that breaking school rules could no longer satisfy Potter and the others. Why am I not surprised at all?

I've read this notebook from beginning to end roughly, and I have to admit dejectedly that it's not much different from not having read it at all. So far, I only have a superficial understanding of Legilimency and Occlumency, similar to the knowledge I'd get from reading library books. Just reading is useless. Even if I empty my mind as guided in the notes, it's just my subjective belief that I've done it. No one can use Legilimency to test my results. I almost immediately thought of Draco, but then shook my head and gave up the idea — let him use Legilimency to see the strange things I dream about at night? He'd laugh at me for at least a year.

This was probably the most absent - minded Halloween feast everyone had ever had. People didn't really care what they were putting into their mouths. Any slight fluctuation of the Goblet of Fire's pale blue flames would cause a commotion in the Great Hall, as if they were worried that a slip of paper would pop out of it in advance.

Finally, all the voices in the Great Hall died away as Dumbledore stood up. Unlike Dumbledore, who looked smiling and quite at ease, the headmasters of the other two schools seemed as nervous as their students. But I noticed that Mr. Crouch seemed absent - minded. He was looking down at his hands, his two thumbs almost mechanically rotating against each other, as if everything happening around him had nothing to do with him. I remembered what my mother had said about meeting him at St. Mungo's. It seemed that he hadn't recovered yet, but still had to take on such heavy responsibilities.

All the candles in the hall, except for the jack - o' - lanterns, went out, and I came back to my senses. Now the Goblet of Fire became the brightest source of light here. Everyone's breathing seemed to rise and fall with its gracefully curling tongues of fire in the air, and the slightest fluctuation would draw an exclamation.

"Here it comes!" someone shouted — though it was completely unnecessary, as everyone's eyes reflected the suddenly reddening firelight and a charred piece of parchment floating down from the air. Everyone held their breath as Dumbledore leaned closer to the fire and clearly pronounced, "The champion of Durmstrang is Viktor Krum."

Their headmaster, Igor Karkaroff, seemed very satisfied with the Goblet of Fire's decision. His voice praising Krum could be heard throughout the Great Hall.

"But he doesn't seem very happy about it?" Hermione's voice was really hard to hear clearly amidst the flood of applause and cheers. "Look at him. He's listless and doesn't look happy at all."

"What do you know! This kind of scene is just routine for him. He's just used to it!" Ron Weasley jumped up and down, excited as if he himself had become the champion.

Hermione turned to me, pursed her lips, and made a gesture of covering her ears.

"The champion of Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour," Dumbledore announced, taking another piece of parchment thrown out by the Goblet of Fire.

This time, the cheers were much quieter. On one hand, people didn't know who Miss Delacour was. On the other hand, when she gracefully tossed her long, silver - bright hair and walked through the Great Hall, many boys who stared at her were so entranced that they forgot to make a sound.

"See, I told you she's a Veela," Ron Weasley whispered.

The hall soon quieted down again — but almost everyone could hear the sound of their own heartbeat. Next, the Goblet of Fire was about to choose the champion representing Hogwarts. Everyone stared at the Goblet of Fire as intently as a goblin craving treasure, for fear of missing the slightest detail.

Finally, the flames of the Goblet of Fire turned red again (some girls were already screaming in tension). The time it took for Dumbledore to take the note and unfold it seemed incredibly long to us. At last, he cleared his throat and said, "The champion of Hogwarts is Cedric Diggory!"

For quite a while, all we could hear were the chaotic screams and applause. Many Hufflepuff students were even crying. A lot of people wanted to shake hands with Cedric, watching him walk towards the small room behind the staff table with a bright smile for everyone.

The noise seemed as if it would never stop. Dumbledore said cheerfully and loudly to us, "The champions representing the three schools have all been chosen by the Goblet of Fire. I believe you will all fully support your champions! Even if you can't strive for this honor yourself, your cheering and support for them will be a great contribution to this event —"

His voice stopped abruptly, and at the same time, the conversations of everyone in the Great Hall also ceased. Everyone watched as the flames of the Goblet of Fire turned blood - red again. The curling tongues of fire slowly threw a charred piece of parchment into the air, and Dumbledore's long fingers instinctively caught it. He stared at the note for about five seconds, and everyone in the Great Hall stared at him. They saw the smile gradually fade from his face. When he finally looked up, the blue eyes behind his half - moon glasses were so sharp that they seemed ready to see through someone's mind at any moment — just like when he came out of the Longbottoms' ward at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries and saw me.

Finally, he read out the name on the note: "Harry Potter."

Almost immediately, we turned our heads to look at Potter. His eyes were wide open, as if he didn't react to what had happened at all. When the noise around gradually grew louder, he shook his head as if trying to shake off non - existent water droplets, and said blankly to us, "I didn't put my name in."

This statement of his wasn't very convincing. Everyone in Hogwarts knew that his group of three and the Weasley twins were the only two strong contending teams in the annual rule - breaking tournament. People were more looking at him curiously, wondering how he had managed to do it — after all, everyone had seen that those senior students who used various methods to increase their age were thrown out by the age line. How did a fourth - year student deceive that age line? Not to mention why the Goblet of Fire gave out the name of a fourth person.

Professor McGonagall's brows were knitted tightly. I saw my father exchange a glance with her, then she quickly walked up to Dumbledore and whispered something to him.

"You know I didn't put my name in," Potter murmured, repeating himself, his tone sounding rather helpless. He looked terrified, his face pale and his hair messy (although messy hair was his usual state). "I really didn't..."

"Go over there first," Hermione whispered to Potter. "Dumbledore is calling you."

"Go on," Black pushed him. He didn't look much better than Potter, and the easy - going smile that was always on his face had disappeared. "We'll wait for you here."

Potter almost tripped when he stood up. We watched him walk towards the staff table. Hermione anxiously twisted her fingers, trying desperately to hear what Dumbledore was saying to Potter. But the voices of the discussions were getting louder and louder. All we could see was Dumbledore expressionlessly patting Potter on the shoulder, motioning for him to also go into the small room inside.

"They won't let Harry compete, will they?" Hermione asked me. "He's not old enough. This doesn't comply with the rules, does it? Iris, your mother works in the Department of Magical Games and Sports now. Do you know the relevant regulations?"

"My mother hasn't told me about these things," I said, feeling a bit uncomfortable as I noticed that the Gryffindors who had heard Hermione were all eagerly waiting for my answer. I lowered my head. "I don't know either."

"They can't make Harry withdraw! The Goblet of Fire has recognized his qualification!" the Weasley twins said excitedly. "We have our own champion too!"

"This isn't funny at all! And there's nothing to be excited about!" Hermione said, her voice trembling. "Harry is only in his fourth year. Almost every Triwizard Tournament has had a champion lose their life — what are you so happy about! Is the honor of Gryffindor having a champion more important than Harry's life!"

Suddenly, I heard a soft scoff. I instinctively looked towards the Slytherin side, but then I found that the person who made the sound was actually Ron Weasley. With a strange expression on his face, he said, "What are you worrying about him for? Hermione, he should have thought of this when he signed up."

"Did he sign up himself?" The classmates around became even more excited, and the voices suddenly grew noisy.

"Ron, did you see him sign up?"

"I knew it. His expression just now was such a good act —"

"Harry didn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire." Black said loudly to the people who had gathered around to ask Ron and were listening intently. He looked at Ron angrily. "We're with him all the time. How can you say that..."

"We thought we were with him all the time." Ron Weasley's face turned red, making the freckles on his face more prominent. "Seems like your relationship with him isn't that much closer either."

Black opened his mouth, as if seeing the person in front of him for the first time. Disgust showed on his face. "You actually doubt the loyalty of your friend, Ron Weasley."

"Will they punish Harry?" Longbottom looked a bit scared, his chubby face straining to look at the small room where the teachers had already filed in.

"They must have a way to find out if it was Harry who did it, right?" Hermione looked at me. "That... Legilimency? Dumbledore can do it for sure, right? He'll be able to tell and clear Harry's name."

"I don't think that's the problem." I tried to recall Dumbledore's speech about the Goblet of Fire yesterday and looked into Hermione's eyes. "Do you remember what Dumbledore said? Putting your name in the Goblet of Fire means signing a contract to compete..."

"Once started, it can't be stopped." Hermione took over my words smoothly, her face turning pale. "But, but there's a prerequisite. You have to be seventeen years old..."

"I don't think so. If the Goblet of Fire could tell the age of the contestants, there wouldn't be an age line. The age limit is an extra measure for safety in this Triwizard Tournament and is not part of the Goblet of Fire's contract." The prefects began to organize the still-talking students to leave the Great Hall and return to the common room. I turned around and took a look at the still-closed small door. "I think whether he signed up or not, he has to participate."

"Mrs. Potter will be devastated." There were already tears in Hermione's eyes. "She's always been so worried about Harry and Neville's safety. Every time she sees me at the train station, she'll ask me to keep an eye on him and not let him get close to danger. But now..."

"Dumbledore won't let casualties happen right in front of him, and Mr. Potter won't allow his only son to die for a competition either." I patted Hermione's hand to comfort her. "What I just said was just a guess. Maybe they'll just scold Potter and deduct a hundred points from Gryffindor and then let him come back. Uh."

A group of Gryffindors glared at me angrily.

"Yes, yes, and Mr. Potter is there too." Hermione patted her head. "I'm so stupid. Mr. Potter must have a way to intervene. I was just thinking, Iris, who would put Harry's name in the Goblet of Fire? And why would they do that?"

After the initial shock, most of the Gryffindors quickly accepted the fact that their house had a second champion from Hogwarts and became excited and wanted to hold a celebration. The Weasley brothers patted their chests and said it was on them. They slipped out of the common room and came back a while later with a whole bunch of food.

Hermione looked distracted and had no interest in participating. Right now, the girls' dormitory was empty, which was perfect for our conversation. We sat on our beds, looking at the curtain above our heads, and continued the topic we hadn't finished discussing.

"Are you sure Potter didn't put his name in?" I asked her. "I think it's something he could do. He's always had trouble distinguishing between danger and excitement, right? Think about when he followed Longbottom into the Chamber of Secrets in second year, and in first year, it was you guys who ran out of the dungeon to inform Dumbledore about the Sorcerer's Stone..."

"This is different, Iris. If it were him, he wouldn't have had that kind of expression." Hermione flatly rejected my guess and seemed a bit angry because of my suspicion. "I believe what he said. He looked terrified!"

"Don't be angry. I was just thinking, maybe he just wanted to sign up for fun at first, but didn't expect to be chosen. I said don't be angry. This isn't the important part. Later I thought, the point isn't that Potter was chosen, but that the Goblet of Fire actually chose four people." I used my wand to draw a glowing "4" in the air. "This isn't in line with its rules. It's clearly got a problem. Do you think it's more likely that it malfunctioned on its own or that someone made it malfunction?"

"Do you mean that someone deliberately made Harry get chosen? Why would they do that - is it because they want Harry to have an accident and die?" Hermione sat up, her hair looking like a bird's nest from all the tugging.

"I don't know," I watched as the number in the air gradually disappeared, shattering into twinkling silver lights that drifted around, illuminating the small painting that Greengrass had given me by the bedside. In the painting, I was sleeping with my eyes closed among the iris flowers. "Children of Aurors... there are some people who, unable to take revenge on the Aurors, go after their families, right?"

"The Daily Prophet - when they reported on Peter Pettigrew, they reported on you and Harry. You don't mean to say..." Fear filled Hermione's eyes. "Tomorrow I'll go remind Harry to write to Mr. Potter. This is terrifying! If that's the case, Iris, then you might also be -"

"It's just my guess." Her words made me start to feel a bit panicked too. "I don't think the logic is completely sound. Such a thing would be too conspicuous. Who would be so arrogant as to go to such great lengths to take revenge on someone in such a blatant way?"

We must have thought of the same person's name at the same time. The Dark Mark from the night of the Quidditch final seemed to reappear in the darkness, starting to glow with an eerie green light again.

"No." Hermione shook her head. "No, why wouldn't the Dark Lord put Neville's name into the Goblet of Fire directly? And he's dead. There's no way to bring the dead back to life. There's no known magic that can do that."

"Harry's back." We heard the enthusiastic cheers coming from the common room outside. Hermione sighed. "He's had enough for today. I'll talk to him tomorrow morning - I hope Ron will be back to normal by then."

"So boys can quarrel too." I curled up on the bed and started reading my father's notes. "I thought they wouldn't. Crabbe and Goyle have never questioned Draco."

"They're not friends. They're servants and lackeys." Hermione patiently explained to me. "I don't think Malfoy has ever regarded them as equals either. He just enjoys the feeling of being surrounded. Actually, there might be more conflicts between people who are close. It doesn't mean their relationship is bad. On the contrary, it's because they care too much about each other."

"Really?" I thought of some of the arguments between my father and mother. "I don't understand... I didn't have friends before."

"You're so cute." Hermione reached over and ruffled my face. "You have friends now, Iris. You have so, so many friends."