Crimson_Lore
patreon
HP Chapter 82: The Four Champions
🕑 Added 2025-09-12 14:28:53 +0000 UTCSaturday evening.
The Halloween feast.
Everyone in the castle was heading excitedly toward the Great Hall, not just for the feast, but more importantly, for the announcement of the school champions. Every house had students who entered, and speculation buzzed as students wondered if someone from their own house would be chosen.
Anne and Fanny had just taken their seats when they spotted Hagrid walking in with Madame Maxime, the headmistress of Beauxbatons. The two were nearly the same height and seemed to be deep in cheerful conversation.
Anne noticed Hagrid was wearing his shaggy brown suit, complete with a yellow and orange plaid tie. It was the same outfit he had worn to Buckbeak’s hearing, the best set of clothes he owned.
"Hey! Anne, look at Hagrid!" Fanny said with amused interest.
"Ah-ha, I see them... They make quite the pair, don’t they?" Anne teased.
Fanny nodded in agreement. "No one could be more suited to each other..."
In the candlelit Great Hall, enchanted bats flitted through the bewitched ceiling, and hundreds of tiny pumpkin-carved figures were dancing and tumbling in every corner, Halloween spirit was thick in the air.
When the feast began, Anne dug in happily, lost in her world of delicious food. Most others, however, weren’t as calm or content.
Everyone kept glancing toward the staff table, anxious and on edge. They fidgeted, some standing to check whether Dumbledore had finished eating, eager to find out who would be chosen to represent their school in the Triwizard Tournament.
At last, the golden plates cleared themselves, returning to their spotless shine. The chatter in the hall rose to a crescendo.
Then Dumbledore stood up, and the room fell into immediate silence. On either side of him, Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked just as tense and expectant as the students. Ludo Bagman and Aaron were beaming, winking at students from each school. Mr. Crouch, on the other hand, looked disinterested, perhaps even slightly annoyed.
"Well then," said Dumbledore, "the Goblet of Fire is ready to make its decision. I believe it’ll be just another moment. Now listen, once your name is called, I want the champion to come forward, walk along the staff table to that adjoining chamber, " he pointed to the door behind the staff table, ", and await further instructions."
Anne recognized that room, it was where she’d chatted with Aaron before.
Dumbledore drew out his wand and gave it a sweeping wave. Instantly, all candles except those inside the pumpkin lanterns were extinguished, plunging the hall into a half-lit, mysterious glow. The Goblet of Fire now burned brilliantly, its blue-white flames the brightest thing in the hall, almost dazzling.
Everyone stared, waiting.
Suddenly, the flames turned red, sparks flew with a crackle. A tongue of fire shot high into the air, and from it flew a piece of scorched parchment. The entire hall held its breath.
Dumbledore caught the parchment and held it up to the firelight so he could read the name. The flames reverted to their usual blue-white.
"The Durmstrang champion–" Dumbledore said clearly, "is Viktor Krum."
Applause and cheers erupted instantly across the hall, with students shrieking and clapping. Viktor Krum rose from the Slytherin table and walked forward, turning right to follow the staff table toward the adjoining room.
"Excellent! Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff, his voice cutting through the cheers, "I knew you were destined to be champion!"
The applause and conversations died down. Once again, attention focused on the Goblet. Seconds later, the flames turned red a second time, and another piece of parchment shot into the air.
"The Beauxbatons champion—" Dumbledore announced, "is Fleur Delacour!"
"Oh, Anne, that’s the girl you said had Veela blood!" Fanny whispered as she clapped. Anne nodded in agreement.
Fleur stood gracefully, flipping her silver hair as she glided between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.
After Fleur entered the chamber, the room fell silent again, this time, the air was thick with an almost tangible excitement. It was Hogwarts’ turn...
Once more, the flames flared red, sparks flew, and a fire tongue rose into the air. Dumbledore reached up and retrieved the third piece of parchment.
"The Hogwarts champion—" he said loudly, "is Cedric Diggory!"
Fanny clapped harder than she had before, turning to Anne and shouting, "Cedric really is an excellent choice!"
With Hufflepuff roaring in thunderous cheers, Anne merely nodded firmly, choosing not to shout over the noise.
Cedric walked past his housemates with a bright, confident smile, heading toward the chamber behind the staff table. The cheering went on for a long while before Dumbledore raised his hand to quiet the room.
"Wonderful!" Dumbledore said happily once it settled. "Now that our three champions are chosen, I trust you all, students of Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and Hogwarts alike, will give your full support to your champions. Your encouragement will be vital to the success of the tournament, "
But Dumbledore suddenly stopped mid-sentence.
Everyone noticed it too.
The Goblet’s flames had turned red once more.
Sparks flew, a tongue of fire rose high, and out came another piece of parchment.
Almost automatically, Dumbledore reached out and caught it. He held it up, squinting at the name.
A long silence followed. Dumbledore stared at the parchment, and everyone stared at Dumbledore.
Finally, he cleared his throat and announced, loudly,
"Harry Potter."
For a moment, the hall was deathly silent. Almost every head turned toward Harry. Then came a low murmur, building quickly, as students whispered and questioned each other. Some stood just to get a better look.
Harry sat frozen, like a statue.
"What’s going on, Anne? Didn’t Dumbledore put an age restriction on the Goblet? Even Fred and George couldn’t get past it. How did Harry do it?" Fanny rattled off questions rapidly.
"Fanny," Anne said calmly, "if someone put their own name into the Goblet, what kind of reaction would they have?"
"They’d be ecstatic, of course! They pulled off something no one else could, that enchantment was cast by Dumbledore himself!" Fanny answered, then paused, suddenly catching on. "Anne... You’re saying someone else put Harry’s name in without telling him?"
Anne shrugged and glanced toward the staff table, where confusion reigned. "I didn’t say that, you’re the one making assumptions..."
But Fanny wasn’t deterred. "Then why? What reason would someone have to do that? Maybe to increase Hogwarts’ chances? But why choose Harry? He’s only in fourth year, they could’ve picked a seventh-year! And the Triwizard Tournament is dangerous! How could a fourth-year handle it?"
Anne shook her head, offering no further opinion.
Meanwhile, it seemed the staff had come to a decision. From the head table, Dumbledore straightened up and gave Professor McGonagall a small nod.
"Harry Potter!" he called again. "Harry! Come up here, please!"
Harry stood, walking slowly between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. Every eye was on him. Dumbledore bent to whisper in his ear, "Go through that door, Harry."
Harry walked through the door and disappeared from view.
The moment he was gone, the whispers exploded into full-blown commotion.
Cries of "cheater," "dishonest," and "how did he do it?" rang out. Hufflepuff was particularly angry, they had believed the honor would belong solely to their house. Meanwhile, over at the Gryffindor table, some students cheered. They were thrilled Harry had outwitted Dumbledore’s age line, Fred and George loudest of all.
"Enough!" Dumbledore’s voice rang out, the usual warmth gone from his face. "Students, return to your dormitories." With a wave of his wand, the doors to the Great Hall swung open.
The students filed out, still buzzing with speculation.
⚡︎━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ❖ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━⚡︎
Sunday afternoon.
"Four champions. I can’t believe there are four champions. I really thought they wouldn’t let Harry compete..." Fanny repeated to Anne for at least the second time before lunch.
"But that’s what the rules say," Anne said matter-of-factly, resting her chin on her hand and watching the clock count down the final two minutes to lunch. "If the Goblet selects your name, you must compete. The Goblet is an immensely powerful magical artifact, and the Triwizard Tournament isn’t just a competition, it’s bound by magical contract. Each school signed an agreement with the Goblet. So, from the Ministry’s and the magical world’s perspective, Harry has to compete."
"But how did Harry even get his name in?" Fanny asked.
Anne gave her a glance.
Fanny quickly added, "Or, how did someone else manage to do it? They’d have to trick the age line and fool the Goblet, which is supposed to only accept one champion per school!"
"Who knows..." Anne replied indifferently.
Just then, the empty golden plates on the table magically filled with food, and Anne happily reached out for the nearest platter.
