Rita Skeeter didn't mention me directly in that article. However, between the lines (not too subtly, it's obvious enough for any child over three to understand) she implied that Potter had experienced a heart - wrenching romantic upheaval. She wrote in the report: Perhaps it was this romantic setback and the overly dazzling glory of his father that made him decide to take extreme risks, such as signing up for the Triwizard Tournament in such an extreme way to prove himself. Fortunately, now he has a stunningly beautiful top - student girlfriend like Hermione Granger, and so on. "She's made you out to be a... rebellious teenager. What did you say to her?" Hermione folded up the Daily Prophet, seemingly not caring about the nonsense written about her in it. "You surely didn't say something like 'My father is so obsessed with work that he has no time for my growth', did you?"

"Believe it or not, all I said to her was that my name is Harry Potter, I study at Hogwarts, and I'm in my fourth year." Potter said gloomily as he tore the newspaper in his hand into several pieces, startling a young girl nearby who was drinking cereal. "There's dark magic on her quill. For every word I said, it wrote three pages on its own."

"It's hard to imagine she devoted so much space to you." Hermione continued to read the report intently, lost in thought. "I thought she'd definitely be more interested in Cedric."

This report undoubtedly made Potter's situation even worse. To begin with, few people believed what he said. Now, those who have read this report truly believe that he is a rebellious brat trying to seek attention through such things. And Hermione has also started to be ridiculed by the Slytherins.

"Stunningly beautiful, her?" Parkinson said in a sarcastic tone loud enough for us to hear. "Compared to a chipmunk?"

"Don't pay attention to her," Hermione said, grabbing Harry Potter with one hand and Black with the other. They were both eager to teach Parkinson, with her poodle - like face, a lesson. She held her head high. "Just ignore them. We don't have time to waste on this! We need to ensure you survive the first task!"

Hermione was undoubtedly the most exhausted person during this period. On one hand, she had to deal with the Slytherins who used Rita Skeeter's report to mock her. On the other hand, she had to constantly worry about whether Potter and Black would get into conflicts with others (like a mother worrying about her two rebellious and hot - tempered teenage sons). At the same time, she was trying to mediate between Ron Weasley and Potter to improve their relationship, and also searching through various books in the library for ways to help Potter.

It's really not easy for someone to do so many things at the same time and still complete her homework with high quality. So it's quite understandable that her temper has become worse.

"I really don't understand why he comes to the library!" Hermione dragged me to another seat to get away from those girls who were whispering behind the bookshelves. She glared at Viktor Krum almost through gritted teeth. "He's not even good - looking. They like him just because he's a Quidditch star and they like that sneaky trick of his!"

Potter's condition was even worse. When my dad usually made sarcastic remarks about his poor potions in Potions class, for a moment I suspected he wanted to pour the contents of the cauldron right into my dad's face. He was absent - minded and performed terribly in all kinds of classes. Professor McGonagall, who was always strict, didn't scold him. She also seemed rather worried.

"Yes, that's right! I'm a rebellious kid who only wants to show off. Now I'm going to cry my eyes out in the broom cupboard because my dad doesn't care enough about me!" I called out to him from behind one day, and he turned around, yelling at me furiously, which startled me.

"No, it's Vivian." I took out a letter that Vivian had brought me at noon. "This is from Mrs. Potter. Have you stopped asking Hedwig to deliver her letters for you?"

His mouth opened slightly, then he lowered his head and took the letter from my hand, stuffing it into his pocket without opening it.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

"Don't make those who worry about you sad, okay?" It took me a long time to come up with this sentence. I originally wanted to comfort him, but when it came out, it sounded like a reproach, so I quickly changed my words. "No, I mean, there are so many people cheering for you. The Gryffindors all hope you can bring more glory—"

This sentence seemed to be forcing him to prepare well for the competition. I felt that the more I said, the worse it got, so I might as well stop. But he seemed to be in a slightly better mood and gave me a tired smile. "Wish me good luck, Iris?"

"Of course." I felt a bit sad. Maybe it was because although he was standing right here, he looked more embarrassed than when he had just finished a Quidditch match in the pouring rain and climbed into the Gryffindor common room, dripping wet. "We all wish you good luck on Tuesday, Pot—Harry."

Vivian also brought me a letter from my mom at the same time. The letter said that she would come to Hogwarts to help with the preparations on the Saturday before the first task started. So without thinking, I decided not to go to Hogsmeade that day, even though Mom said it might be quite late when she finished her work.

"I really want to talk to Moody about Bertha, but his temper seems to have gotten even worse, and I don't want to push him to be more extreme," I finally saw my parents from a distance by the lake. I crouched down in the grass, trying to hear if they were arguing again, but I heard Mom say worriedly, "Severus, the matter of the Goblet of Fire is definitely not an accident."

They didn't seem to be having an argument, and I let out a sigh of relief.

"The first task—even for a child his age, we were all in a mess this afternoon." I pricked up my ears, hoping to get more clues.

"There's always a clever way to solve anything, but I don't think Potter's son has the ability to figure it out. Dumbledore has his reasons for allowing that boy to participate. It's none of my business to worry about Potter's child," I heard Dad say.

"So, how's our Lizzie doing recently?" Suddenly, Mom's voice came from above my head. It was strange. Just now they seemed to be by the lakeshore. I saw her looking at me with a smile. There was a scorched mark on her sleeve. "Mom and Dad thought you'd gone to Hogsmeade for fun."

It was a rare time of peace and leisure for our family. Most of the students above the third grade had gone to Hogsmeade, so Hogwarts was quieter than usual. Every now and then, an owl or two flew by in the sky, and in the distance, one could hear the loud hoof - beats of the big horses from Beauxbatons and Hagrid's shouts. Dad was frowning as he watched the lower - grade students playing and laughing on the other side of the lake. I held Mom's arm, listening to her recall her school days, occasionally chiming in to tell her which portraits had changed and which statues had been so damaged by Peeves that they could never be repaired. Then, in a slightly coquettish whisper, I told her about my recent progress. I couldn't let Dad hear this, or he would think I was too easily satisfied - actually, those words spoken in a breathy voice were like the girls' mysterious whispers. If one wanted to listen, every word could be heard clearly. At that moment, I thought how happy it would be if time could stretch forward gently and slowly like this, even if the price was a lack of change.

Mom didn't reveal even a tiny bit of information about the first task to me in the end. She just pinched my nose and said they had taken complete protective measures. I originally wanted to tell Hermione and the others this news, so that they wouldn't have to worry so much about Potter's safety. However, in the following few days, I could hardly see Hermione except in class. She sat with Potter and Black, and as soon as the class bell rang, they left in a hurry. At night, she wouldn't enter the girls' dormitory until the last moment, and almost always fell asleep as soon as she collapsed onto the bed.

When I went to the library to do my homework alone, I met Viktor Krum. He was walking through the girls' either reserved or bold gazes with a thick book in his hand. Surprisingly, he came to my table, remained silent for a while, and then said, "That girl, not with you?"

It took me a while to realize he was referring to Hermione. I replied politely, "She's a bit busy recently."

Hermione was right. Viktor Krum was most charming when he was as light as a swallow on his broomstick. Even though I'm not a Quidditch fan, I thought the move of him catching the Golden Snitch at the end of the Quidditch World Cup was really thrilling. But off the broomstick, with a gloomy face, he seemed rather difficult to get along with.

"Oh, I thought she was ill again." He listlessly tucked the thick book under his arm and walked out of the library. I thought it was strange. Usually, when Hermione was around, he would read in the library, which made Hermione quite annoyed. Could it be that he knew Hermione was helping Potter and wanted to cause trouble for her? I worriedly guessed this possibility and made up my mind that next time, even if I risked getting points deducted by Professor McGonagall for talking in class, I would remind Hermione to be careful.

"Cause trouble for me?" Hermione looked both tired and surprised. Her hair was sticking out in all directions, making the guinea fowl in front of her think it was being threatened by a fellow of its kind, so it fluffed up all its feathers. Impatiently, she waved her wand and murmured a spell, turning the guinea fowl in front of her into a balloon - like puffer pig. Her tone was a bit irritable. "Fine. After Harry gets through - after his first task is over, I'll wait and see how that Krum tries to cause trouble for me. Does he think the students at Hogwarts are just a bunch of swooning girls who giggle behind his back and ask for his autograph?"

The Gryffindors finally realized the huge pressure Harry Potter was facing, and that their enthusiastic cheering and eager anticipation had also contributed significantly to that pressure. So they finally stopped surrounding Potter and shouting about winning the Triwizard Cup whenever they got the chance. As the first task drew near, everyone truly realized that compared with the other three champions, Potter lacked far too many necessary trainings and courses. Even Ron Weasley seemed very uneasy. His eyes would always follow the backs of Potter and the others as they left in a hurry, but he just didn't seem to have the courage to step forward and say a word.

Neville Longbottom had been extremely anxious ever since Potter's name had sprung out of the Goblet of Fire. He even thought there might have been some mistake, that the person who was "trying to frame Potter for some reason" might originally have intended to put his name into the Goblet. His reason was that he was the one who constantly got into trouble, from the Philosopher's Stone incident to the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. What made him feel very guilty was that Potter had helped him a great deal in those matters, but now he seemed unable to do anything to help, and even cheering for Potter had been explicitly prohibited by the Gryffindor girls.

Draco had also lost interest in causing trouble for Potter by wearing those badges. He found that Potter and the others simply didn't care about his deliberately drawling and sarcastic remarks now. Whether it was betting on whether Potter could survive on the field for five minutes or praising Cedric Diggory as the real champion of Hogwarts, he couldn't see Potter or Black getting angry and jumping up as he hoped. So he resentfully put away those tricks. After all, in his mind, Diggory from Hufflepuff was by no means a remarkable person.

Now, the guessing game about the content of the first task had become the hottest entertainment at Hogwarts. The Weasley twins walked around the school with a big box, collecting everyone's guesses. By the time the competition started, the most popular guess was that the champions would have to challenge eating twenty Blast - ended Skrewts raised by Hagrid raw without any seasonings.

It's hard to say who was more anxious, Professor McGonagall or Hermione. When she led Potter away, it seemed as if she was about to dig her fingers into his shoulder. Hermione let out an uncontrolled sob as she watched Potter's back.

"He'll be fine. He'll win," Black said firmly, as if he had already seen the outcome of the entire competition. "We all believe in him - Hey, buddy! We'll be here waiting for you to come back!" He jumped up and shouted loudly to Potter, who had already reached the entrance hall. The November sunlight, which no longer carried much warmth, shone through his long, curly hair. Many people turned to look at him, but he waved his hand indifferently, as if shouting one more time would bring Potter more luck.

"Yeah, it'll be okay," Ron Weasley finally spoke up to comfort Hermione. "Don't worry. I wrote to Dad, and he said the Ministry of Magic sent people to make a lot of preparations."

Under the guidance, we took our seats in the stands according to our houses. Many people craned their necks, trying to see what was in the arena, but it seemed empty except for some rocks and a few shrubs. It was not until Ludo Bagman introduced it to everyone in a cheerful tone that they realized the first task for the champions was to retrieve a golden egg from under a dragon.

"It's hard to say which is worse, this or eating Blast - ended Skrewts, isn't it?" Ron Weasley tried to tell a joke to lighten the mood, but Hermione clearly wasn't in the mood to pay attention to him.

Whether it was the noisy voices from the stands that disturbed the dragons or the dragons were naturally so fierce and ferocious, many timid girls covered their eyes and dared not watch the competition. Fortunately, Ludo Bagman was constantly commenting on the champions' attempts and results with the same enthusiasm as he did during the Quidditch World Cup. Diggory, Delacour, and Krum all managed to get the golden eggs after some dangers and setbacks. When Potter summoned his Firebolt from the castle using the Summoning Charm, the atmosphere in the whole place reached its peak. Even Bagman exclaimed, "My goodness! He can fly! Mr. Krum, did you see that?"

Hermione's face was deathly pale. Her hands alternately covered her face and pinched Ron Weasley's arm. The Gryffindors watched, almost holding their breath, as their house champion circled around the huge body of the Hungarian Horntail like a tiny bird. Several times, everyone thought the sharp spines of the Hungarian Horntail were going to sweep Potter off his broom, and indeed, he was hit once (Parvati Patil had started crying), but he still stubbornly stayed on the broom and continued to confront the Horntail.

"He has a way," Black said hoarsely. "Just watch - I knew it!"

Potter, who had slowly lured the Hungarian Horntail into the air, suddenly dived down at an extremely fast speed. It was hard to say which dive was more thrilling, this one or Krum's during the World Cup, considering Potter's opponent was a fire - breathing dragon. Everyone in the stadium held their breath, not knowing if his attempt had been successful. And when they saw the dazzling golden light reflected from under Potter's arm as he soared into the air, for a moment, I thought I'd gone deaf. The Gryffindor boys were shouting, the girls were screaming and hugging each other, wiping the tears from their faces. Ron Weasley and Black almost tumbled out of the stands. They seemed to have forgotten that they hadn't spoken to each other for at least two weeks.

It was hard not to feel excited in such a situation. Before the scores were announced, Hermione grabbed my hand and dragged me all the way to the champions' tent. Black and Ron followed us. I noticed that Hermione's face was marked with the imprints of her own fingernails.

She didn't even ask if we could enter the tent or care who was inside. She just charged in with us. There were several small compartments on the other side of the tent. Diggory, who seemed to have just been burned, was still resting inside. Potter was about to come out. I saw Krum sitting on the other side, who also stood up when we entered.

"Harry!" Hermione said in a much shriller voice than usual. "You did it! The Summoning Charm! You're amazing! Absolutely amazing!"

Ron Weasley coughed. He seemed to have just realized that his current situation was a bit awkward because Potter was looking at him. Hermione nervously grabbed my hand (as if she was afraid I'd run away if she let go), looking from one to the other. Black had already returned to his usual self. He leaned against the tent pole and even gave a lazy smile in response to Fleur Delacour's gaze as she came out of the small compartment in a different dress.

"Harry," Ron Weasley said seriously. "Whoever put your name in the Goblet of Fire - I - I think they wanted you dead!"

"You finally figured it out?" Potter replied coldly. "Took you long enough."

I sadly took Hermione's hand, thinking they were about to quarrel again. But it turned out that I knew nothing about the friendship between boys. They seemed as stiff as ice just a second ago, yet suddenly Potter told Weasley to forget about it — without even an apology needed, and they made up.

"You two are so silly!" Hermione suddenly burst into tears. She rushed over and hugged them. "You're the most boring fools I've ever seen!"

I felt a bit awkward. Hermione wailed and then ran off, leaving me standing there alone. Potter was still looking at me. He was in a terrible mess. A piece of his shoulder - sleeve was torn, and the smudges of smoke on his face hadn't been wiped clean. Madam Pomfrey hadn't treated his minor scratches. But he was in much better spirits than the day I stopped him in the corridor. His eyes behind the glasses were shining.

"That was amazing," I said. It would have been even weirder to say nothing, so I sincerely expressed my admiration. "All of us were stunned. No matter what the person who put your name in the Goblet of Fire intended, we all think you're the legitimate champion of Hogwarts now."

He smiled. With one hand injured and the other holding the golden egg, he had no hand free to tidy his messy hair. "Thanks for the good luck you all gave me."

"Well, I won't take up your time," I said, pointing at Black and Weasley. "You must have a lot to talk about. I'm going to find Hermione."