vii. i'll go with you

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Matilda sat there, watching as every head in the Great Hall turns to look at Harry. He looked stunned. He didn't move an inch. Harry's eyes widened but he refused to turn his head and address his peers.

There was no applause. A buzzing, as though of angry bees, was starting to fill the Hall; some students were standing up to get a better look at Harry as he sat, frozen, in his seat.

Up at the top table, Professor McGonagall had got to her feet and swept past Ludo Bagman and Professor Karkaroff to whisper urgently to Professor Dumbledore, who bent his ear towards her, frowning slightly.

Matilda, tired of the whispering and cluelessness decided to get answers for herself. So, she left the sides of Padma and Luna to go and take a seat beside Harry, who had the entire attention of the long Gryffindor table, all watching open-mouthed.

"I didn't put my name in," Harry said blankly. "You know I didn't."

"Of course, I know you didn't," Matilda rolled her eyes. "How could you, of all people, have come up with a spell or potion to get past the age line?"

But Hermione and Ron didn't seem as convinced as Matilda as they both just stared back at him from across the table blankly.

"Harry Potter!" he called again. "Harry! Up here, if you please!"

"I'll go with you," Matilda whispered, giving Harry a slight push then standing up behind him.

Together they got to their feet, trod on the hem of Harry's robes, making him stumble slightly. He set off up the gap between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. It was an incredibly dramatic moment that if Matilda was the center of attention, she would revel in. Every gaze in the room was on Harry and the buzzing grew louder and louder as they neared the front of the room. Finally, Harry stopped, Matilda, coming up beside him to face Dumbledore.

"Miss Winters," Dumbledore greeted. "I asked for Harry. I'm certain you can find your place back at the tables."

"Sorry, Headmaster, I cannot," said Matilda, shaking her head. "I think Harry deserves someone on his side and I've elected myself."

Dumbledore nodded, knowing that there was no way he was going to be able to get Matilda to go back to her seat, and so his attention shifted back to Harry.

"Well ... through the door, you two," said Dumbledore. He wasn't smiling.

Harry and Matilda moved off along the teachers' table. Hagrid was sat right at the end. He did not wink at Harry, or wave, or give any of his usual signs of greeting. He looked completely astonished, and stared at Harry as he passed, like everyone else. Harry and Matilda went through the door out of the Great Hall, and found themselves in a smaller room, lined with paintings of witches and wizards. A handsome fire was roaring in the fireplace opposite him.

The faces in the portraits turned to look at him as he entered. He saw a wizened witch flit out of the frame of her picture and into the one next to it, which contained a wizard with a walrus mustache. The wizened witch started whispering in his ear.

Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory, and Fleur Delacour were grouped around the fire. They looked strangely impressive, silhouetted against the flames. Krum, hunched up and brooding, was leaning against the mantelpiece, slightly apart from the other two. Cedric was standing with his hands behind his back, staring into the fire. Fleur Delacour looked around when Harry and Matilda walked in and threw back her sheet of long, silvery hair.

"What is it?" she said. "Do zey want us back in ze Hall?"

She thought they had come to deliver a message. Matilda waited for Harry to answer, telling them that he had somehow been chosen as a Champion himself, but he couldn't speak, he only stood there, staring at the other three champions.

"Harry's actually—"

Matilda started to explain to Fleur but was cut off by the sound of scurrying feet behind them. Ludo Bagman came up and took Harry by the arm, leading him forward.

"Extraordinary!" He muttered, squeezing Harry's arm. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen ... lady," he added, approaching the fireside and addressing the other three. "May I introduce – incredible though it may seem – the fourth Triwizard champion?"

Viktor Krum straightened up. His surly face darkened as he surveyed Harry. Cedric looked nonplussed. He looked from Bagman to Harry and back again as though sure he must have misheard what Bagman had said. Fleur Delacour, however, tossed her hair, smiling, and said, "Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman."

"A joke?" Matilda questioned. "Tell me, where's the humor?"

"Joke?" Bagman repeated, bewildered. "No, no, not at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"

Krum's thick eyebrows contracted slightly. Cedric was still looking politely bewildered.

Fleur frowned. "But evidently zair 'as been a mistake," she said contemptuously to Bagman. "'E cannot compete. 'E is too young."

"Well... it is amazing," said Bagman, rubbing his smooth chin and smiling down at Harry. "But, as you know, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as his name's come out of the Goblet... I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage... it's down in the rules, you're obliged... Harry will just have to do the best he –"

"Wait!" Matilda said, interrupting Bagman. "You're actually going to have him compete?"

Matilda was completely bewildered, having expected them to pull Harry from the competition because of his young age. But she wasn't given the change to argue with Bagman any further as the door behind them opened again, and a large group of people came in: Professor Dumbledore followed closely by Mr. Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape. Matilda heard the buzzing of the hundreds of students on the other side of the wall before Professor McGonagall closed the door.

"Madame Maxime!" said Fleur at once, striding over to her Headmistress. "Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!"

Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full, and considerable, height. The top of her handsome head brushed the candle-filled chandelier, and her gigantic black satin bosom swelled.

"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" She said imperiously.

"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," said Professor Karkaroff. He was wearing a steely smile, and his blue eyes were like chips of ice. "Two Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions – or have I not read the rules carefully enough?"

He gave a short and nasty laugh.

"C'est impossible," said Madame Maxime, whose enormous hand with its many superb opals was resting upon Fleur's shoulder. "'Ogwarts cannot 'ave two champions. It is most unjust."

"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, his steely smile still in place, though his eyes were colder than ever. "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."

"It's no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff," said Snape softly. His black eyes were alight with malice. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here –"

"So, you admit it then?" Matilda asked, not allowing Severus to finish bashing Harry. "Harry has enough talent to cross the Age Line?"

"What are you doing here?" Snape sneered, his lip curling up as he glared down at Matilda. "Always following Potter into trouble, sounds familiar."

"Thank you, Severus," said Dumbledore firmly, and Snape went quiet, though his eyes still glinted malevolently through his curtain of greasy black hair.

Professor Dumbledore was now looking down at Harry, who looked right back at him, trying to discern the expression of the eyes behind the half-moon spectacles.

"Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" Dumbledore asked calmly.

"No," said Harry. Snape made a soft noise of impatient disbelief in the shadows.

"Did you ask for help from an older student... or Matilda?' said Professor Dumbledore, ignoring Snape.

"Slightly offended, but flattered nonetheless," said Matilda with a small grin.

"No," said Harry vehemently.

"Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" cried Madame Maxime. Snape was now shaking his head, his lip curling.

"He could not have crossed the Age Line,' said Professor McGonagall sharply. 'I am sure we are all agreed on that –"

"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line," said Madame Maxime, shrugging.

Matilda's eyes widened as she felt a pit of anger begin to grow inside her. She turned her gaze up toward the large Madame Maxime and glared.

"The only mistake here is your and your stupid assumptions!" Matilda yelled.

Madam Maxime gasped as did her student Fleur, but Matilda was not going to apologize to someone who so easily insulted the man she admired and looked up to most in the world.

"There, there, Matilda," said Dumbledore politely. "It is possible a mistake was made."

"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" said Professor McGonagall angrily. "Really, what nonsense! Harry could not have crossed the line himself, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that he did not persuade an older student to do it for him, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!"

She shot a very angry look at Professor Snape.

"Mr. Crouch... Mr. Bagman," said Karkaroff, his voice unctuous once more, "you are our – er – objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?"

Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief, and looked at Mr. Crouch, who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half-hidden in shadow. He looked slightly eerie, the half-darkness making him look much older, giving him an almost skull-like appearance. When he spoke, however, it was in his usual curt voice. "We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the Tournament."

"Well, Barty knows the rulebook back to front," said Bagman, beaming and turning back to Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, as though the matter was now closed.

"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," said Karkaroff. He had dropped his unctuous tone and his smile now. His face wore a very ugly look indeed. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore."

"But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that," said Bagman. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out – it won't re-ignite until the start of the next Tournament –"

"– in which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" exploded Karkaroff. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"

"Empty threat, Karkaroff," growled a voice from near the door. "You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore, said. Convenient, eh?"

Moody had just entered the room. He limped towards the fire, and with every right step he took, there was a loud clunk.

"Convenient?" said Karkaroff. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody."

Matilda could tell he was trying to sound disdainful, as though what Moody was saying was barely worth his notice, but his hands gave him away; they had balled themselves into fists.

"Don't you?" said Moody quietly. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's name in that Goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out."

"Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give 'Ogwarts two bites at ze apple!" said Madame Maxime.

"I quite agree, Madame Maxime," said Karkaroff, bowing to her. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards –"

"If anyone's got a reason to complain, it's Potter," growled Moody, "but... funny thing... I don't hear him saying a word..."

"Why should 'e complain?" burst out Fleur Delacour, stamping her foot. "'E 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money – zis is a chance many would die for!"

"I would complain too if I was him, no offense Harry, but he isn't exactly the type to come out of these types of tournaments alive," said Matilda, rolling her eyes.

"Exactly. Maybe someone's hoping Potter is going to die for it," said Moody, with the merest trace of a growl.

An extremely tense silence followed these words.

Ludo Bagman, who was looking very anxious indeed, bounced nervously up and down on his feet and said, "Moody, old man... what a thing to say!"

"We all know Professor Moody considers the morning wasted if he hasn't discovered six plots to murder him before lunchtime," said Karkaroff loudly. "Apparently, he is now teaching his students to fear assassination, too. An odd quality in a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Dumbledore, but no doubt you had your reasons."

"Imagining things, am I?" growled Moody. "Seeing things, eh? It was a skilled witch or wizard who put the boy's name in that Goblet..."

"Ah, what evidence is zere of zat?" said Madame Maxime, throwing up her huge hands.

"Because they hoodwinked a very powerful magical object!" said Moody. "It would have needed an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to bamboozle that Goblet into forgetting that only three schools compete in the Tournament... I'm guessing they submitted Potter's name under a fourth school, to make sure he was the only one in his category..."

"You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Moody," said Karkaroff coldly, "and a very ingenious theory it is – though, of course, I heard you recently got it into your head that one of your birthday presents contained a cunningly disguised basilisk egg, and smashed it to pieces before realizing it was a carriage clock. So, you'll understand if we don't take you entirely seriously."

"There are those who'll turn innocent occasions to their advantage," Moody retorted in a menacing voice. "It's my job to think the way Dark wizards do, Karkaroff – as you ought to remember."

"Alastor!" said Dumbledore warningly. Moody fell silent, though still surveying Karkaroff with satisfaction – Karkaroff's face was burning.

"How this situation arose, we do not know," said Dumbledore, speaking to everyone gathered in the room. "It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Cedric and Harry have been chosen to compete in the Tournament. This, therefore, they will do."

"Ah, but Dumbly-dorr –"

"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, I would be delighted to hear it."

Dumbledore waited, but Madame Maxime did not speak, she merely glared. She wasn't the only one, either. Snape looked furious; Karkaroff livid. Bagman, however, looked rather excited.

"Well, shall we crack on, then?" he said, rubbing his hands together and smiling around the room. "Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honors?"

Mr. Crouch seemed to come out of a deep reverie.

"Yes," he said, "instructions. Yes... the first task..."

He moved forwards into the firelight. Close to, Harry thought he looked ill. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and a thin, papery look about his wrinkled skin that had not been there at the Quidditch World Cup.

"The first task is designed to test your daring," he told Harry, Cedric, Fleur, and Krum, "so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard... very important."

"The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges –

"– The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the Tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the Tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests."

Mr. Crouch turned to look at Dumbledore. "I think that's all, is it, Albus?"

"I think so," said Dumbledore, who was looking at Mr. Crouch with mild concern. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty?"

"No, Dumbledore, I must get back to the Ministry," said Mr. Crouch. "It is a very busy, very difficult time at the moment... I've left young Weatherby in charge... very enthusiastic... a little over-enthusiastic, if truth be told"

"You'll come and have a drink before you go, at least?" said Dumbledore.

"Come on, Barty, I'm staying!" said Bagman brightly. "It's all happening at Hogwarts now, you know, much more exciting here than at the office!"

"I think not, Ludo," said Crouch, with a touch of his old impatience.

"Professor Karkaroff – Madame Maxime – a nightcap?" said Dumbledore.

But Madame Maxime had already put her arm around Fleur's shoulders and was leading her swiftly out of the room. Matilda could hear them both talking very fast in French as they went off into the Great Hall. Karkaroff beckoned to Krum, and they, too, exited, though in silence.

"Harry, Cedric, Matilda, I suggest you go up to bed," said Dumbledore, smiling at all of them. "I am sure Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are waiting to celebrate, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise."

They all nodded to Dumbledore and left together.

The Great Hall was deserted now; the candles had burnt low, giving the jagged smiles of the pumpkins an eerie, flickering quality.

"So," said Cedric, with a slight smile. "We're playing against each other again!"

"I s'pose," said Harry.

"So, tell me..." said Cedric, as they reached the Entrance Hall, which was now lit only by torches in the absence of the Goblet of Fire. "How did you get your name in?"

"Are you hard of hearing or just plain stupid?" Matilda insulted Cedric. "Harry's done told everyone that he did not put his name in the Goblet."

"Ah, ok," said Cedric. Matilda could tell Cedric didn't believe them. 'Well, see you, then.'

Instead of going up the marble staircase, Cedric headed for a door to its right. Harry and Matilda stood listening to him going down the stone steps beyond it, then, slowly, started to climb the marble ones.

"So, are you really going to do it?" Matilda asked, glancing over to Harry as they climbed the moving staircases. "Compete in the Tournament?"

Harry shrugged. He seemed lost in his thought. Worrying himself over everything but the most important thing. How was he going to survive this?

"I don't see what else I'm supposed to do," said Harry.

"Forfeit?" Matilda offered.

"Do you want me to forfeit?" Harry asked, stopping suddenly to look over at Matilda.

Matilda stopped a step above him, she hesitated to answer. Of course, she wanted him to drop out. The games were barbaric, and, in her opinion, they did not test any strength or intelligence of a wizard. She didn't see them as something worth dying for, which she feared Harry was going to do.

"You could die, Harry," sighed Matilda.

"I know that," Harry nodded. "But I don't think I will. Not with you helping me."

"And who said I was going to help you?" Matilda laughed.

"Well, do you want me to die?" Harry asked.

There was a moment of silence as Matilda pondered the thought and Harry's eyes widened at the amount of time Matilda was taking to answer his questions.

"Fine, I'll help you," said Matilda. "Having you alive isn't the worst thing in the world."

And though most people would find Matilda's complement offensive or questionable, Harry took it, relieved to have her on his side.

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Matilda and Harry parted when at the top of the staircase. He had invited her to the Gryffindor Tower, but she could see that he was tired and was in no mood to be hanging out with anyone. Instead, Matilda bid Harry a goodnight, promising to meet with him tomorrow, before going to her own tower, the Ravenclaw Tower to get some sleep. But as soon as she stepped foot into the common room she had been bombarded with questions about what happened behind the closed door.

"Did Potter cheat?"

"Did you give Potter a potion to get him past the line?"

"What's the first task?"

There were so many people circling her that she felt like exploding. And these people yelling, and demanding answers were never people who Matilda talked to normally, and now they're expecting her to tell her all her secrets.

Matilda didn't answer a single question, she avoided each and everyone as she pushed past the crowd, wishing to hex a few people in her way, and quickly made her way into the dorm, where she hurriedly shut and locked the door behind her, scared others might try to come in just to get answers.

"Is everything alright?"

Luna had set up from her bed. She had been using her wand to create a string of sparkly lights overtop of her head.

"Is Harry going to be okay?" Padma wondered.

Matilda nodded. "Yes, and yes. Everything will be fine."

"So, he's really competing?" Cho asked curiously.

"I suppose he is," said Matilda.

And when she went to bed that night the same feeling that she wished would go away returned but ten times stronger than before.

And when Matilda lay in her bed to go to sleep, having answered all her roommates burning questions, the feeling in her stomach grew ten times the size, and that's when Matilda knew, the feeling was not a good one. 

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AN:// A short chapter. But an update nonetheless.

xoxo