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(Y/n)'s POV

Todays classes had finally come to an end, and a wave of students flooded into the great hall more hectic than usual, shoving past each other while others tripped on feet. While this was normal since dinner usually followed after the final lessons, today was different; it was time for the names to be drawn from the Goblet.

During the commotion, a Hufflepuff bumped into my shoulder, the impact sharp enough to make me wince. He turned with concern on his face. "I'm so sorry," he said, his eyes reflecting genuine remorse before being swept away by his friends who pushed him to keep moving.

"Cedric Diggory, the most handsome Hufflepuff to ever roam these halls," Pansy commented from beside me, her gaze lingering on the departing Hufflepuff, "He's seriously so gorgeous."

I shot her a sideways glance, still wrestling with my emotions over the situation with Draco. I had promised myself not to hold any grudges against her, but it was proving to be more difficult than I expected. "Don't you have a Slytherin to occupy your thoughts?" I asked, trying to conceal the bitterness inside of my tone. It all happened just this morning, so I can hardly be held responsible for not being in the best mood. I honestly couldn't care less about the Goblet, this tournament, or the names chosen—I just wanted to be alone.

She smiled, brushing off my tone as if it were nothing. "It's just window shopping; no harm in that."

I decided to ignore Pansy for the rest of our walk, and soon we entered the hall, taking our places at the long table. As expected, Pansy rudely shoved a younger girl aside to take the seat next to Draco, her eyes glimmering with a possessive sort of triumph. Draco merely side-glanced her and scooted to bring a little distance between them. His expression was anything but enthusiastic, while the girl  that was shoved stumbled slightly, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment, but Pansy didn't spare her a second glance.

I had no interest in sitting next to any of them, so I settled at the far end of the table, a little further down, next to a girl named Lyla. Although we weren't close or anything, we did room together and she always treated me with kindness. She offered me a warm smile as she shifted to make room for me. Her dark hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, and her eyes sparkled with a gentleness to them. She seemed like the kind of girl that wouldn't dare hurt a fly.

As we exchanged a few hello's, the hall was filled with chatter and laughter amongst the other students, the sound echoing off the ceiling that mirrored the night sky outside. Dumbledore stood patiently at the front, his silver hair glinting in the dim light as a few last-minute students rushed to add their names to the list. I could see the nervousness coming from them, their faces a mix of excitement and also anxiety.

Finally, Dumbledore broke the silence, his voice echoing through the hall. "Now, the moment you have all been waiting for," he declared, raising his hand in a grand gesture that swept across the room. The torches lining the walls suddenly extinguished, leaving only the blue glow of the Goblet to illuminate the space.

Dumbledore stepped forward, his fingers brushing lightly against the surface of the Goblet. He then retreated, a look of anticipation settling on his face. Suddenly, the blue flames flickered and transformed into a vibrant pink, and from within the fire, something shot up. A charred, piece of parchment spiraled through the air, floating down towards Dumbledore. He snatched in a swift motion, his eyes scanning the name inscribed on it.

"The champion for Durmstrang is Viktor Krum!" he declared.

The room broke out into a roar of applause, more so coming from the Durmstrang boys. Viktor stood with a smile on his voice and received a few pats on the back from his classmates before he approached Dumbledore and shook his hand. Dumbledore then gestured for him to stand aside before facing the Goblet once more to retrieve the next name.

With a flick of his wrist, Dumbledore gestured towards the Goblet. The fire danced, a mesmerizing display before settling into a deep pink again. As the flames roared higher, another piece of parchment flew out. It soared through the air, twisting and turning before Dumbledore caught it, his expression serious now.

He unfolded the parchment carefully, his brow furrowing slightly as he read the name. The hall held its breath. Finally, Dumbledore looked up, his voice steady and clear as he announced, "The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!"

Fleur stood, her golden hair shimmering like sunlight as she held a confident smile brightening her face as she acknowledged the cheers surrounding her. I stood up, clapping for the girl who had been a part of my life for as long as I could remember. She responded with a nod and a smile, taking a moment to share a personal glance with me before turning her attention to Dumbledore, extending her hand for him to take.

Dumbledore, after signaling for her to join Viktor, raised his voice above the noise, "And now, we await the final champion representing Hogwarts."

He turned back to the Goblet, where the flames danced as before, then releasing the last slip of parchment. It floated down, and he caught it, his expression changing as he read the name, taking longer than usual to announce it.

His brows knitted in concentration as he scanned the crowd, finally locking eyes with me, "Your Hogwarts champion is—(Y/n) Maxime."

The Slytherin table erupted in a chorus of cheers, and I felt an abundance amount of pats on my back from those around me, their excitement strong. Yet, a wave of nausea washed over me; I hadn't entered my name into the Goblet—there had to be some mistake. "(Y/n), go, they're waiting for you!" Lyla urged, practically pushing me toward the front.

With each step I took, the clapping and cheers seemed to fade into a distant echo, as if I were moving through a dream. I thought for a moment there I would faint, or throw up—thankfully neither happened.

Before long, I stood before Dumbledore, who extended his hand toward me. Our eyes met, and he offered his congratulations. "Professor," I whispered, "I didn't put my name in the Goblet." The words came out before I had a moment to think about them, it was as if it was fueled by shock or maybe I held hope that my name could somehow be withdrawn.

He surveyed the crowd, his voice low, "Well, someone did. We'll talk more later." With that, he gestured for me to join the other two champions.

I found myself standing next to Fleur, who must have sensed my unease. She took my hand, her grip both gentle and reassuring, and offered a comforting squeeze. "It is an honor, do not be afraid," she whispered low.

While her kindness soothed my hectic nerves, it did little to calm the rising wave of panic threatening to overwhelm me. I dared not to look at my mother, fearing the disappointment that might be on her face, and I should have also averted my gaze from Draco. Yet, my eyes betrayed me, drawn to the crowd of students who continued to cheer my name.

In that moment, it was impossible to ignore the one figure who remained motionless during the celebration.

Draco sat there, a statue, while everyone around him erupted in applause. His gaze was fixed on mine, and the anger coming from him was so strong I could feel it from where I stood. Despite what happened between him and I today, we still made a promise—one I had hoped he would still keep, just as I had kept my own. Only to him, it looks like I hadn't out of spite.

"Excellent! We have our three champions at last," Dumbledore proclaimed, his voice echoing through the hall and commanding immediate silence. It was in that moment I finally managed to tear my gaze away from Draco's intense stare. "Yet, in the end, only one will go down in history. Only one will lift this chalice of champions." From the shadows, a figure cloaked in heavy fabric stepped forward, holding something. With a careful motion, he set it upon a pedestal. "Behold this symbol of triumph—the Triwizard Cup!" He gestured dramatically towards the concealed object, and as the cloak fell away, the gleaming trophy was revealed for us all to see.

Gasps filled the air, quickly followed by a wave of applause and cheers that echoed through the room. Yet, amidst the excitement, my gaze was drawn elsewhere—the flames of the Goblet began to flicker and sway, as if another name was about to be drawn.

In an instant, the room's energy shifted, all eyes now on the Goblet as the applause faded into an uneasy silence.

Then, just as before, the flames transformed into a vibrant pink. A new piece of parchment shot up, and Dumbledore, his expression full of confusion, caught the parchment. He leaned in, his brow furrowing as he mumbled the name, "Harry Potter." His voice was so soft that I doubted many in the room heard it; I could barely make it out myself. But then, he turned sharply to the students, his voice rising, "Harry Potter?" When only silence followed and no sign of Harry, he called out, "Harry Potter!"

In that moment, Harry was pulled to his feet—more by Hermione than his own will. I could see the confusion on his face, a mixture of terror and disbelief swirling in his wide eyes. He eventually slowly walked towards Dumbledore, his gaze looking around the room nervously.

Without uttering a single word, the headmaster extended the parchment to Harry, who took it with a hesitant hand, his fingers trembling slightly as he grasped the evidence of this unexpected turn of events.

I was under the impression that there could only be three, so how is this possible?

As Harry approached me and the other champions, a chorus of voices erupted from the students surrounding us, each one more angry than the last.

"He's a cheat!" one voice cried out.

"We have a champion!" 

"Why does Hogwarts get two? That's not fair!" 

"He must have bewitched it!"

"Always has to have the attention on himself, doesn't he?" That voice I knew, Draco.

As Harry drew near, his worried eyes met mine. "I swear, I didn't put my name in," he said, his voice filled with urgency, as if pleading for me to believe him, likely knowing not many are going to.

"Don't worry Harry, I believe you," I responded, gripping his hand tightly to keep him close. I sensed the heavy glares aimed at him from different parts of the room. Leaning in, I whispered in his ear, "Something is seriously wrong here, because I didn't put my name in either."

He turned slightly, his eyes meeting mine, his expression mirroring my own confusion. "What is going on?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.

I shook my head slowly, uncertainty in my response. "I don't know. Maybe Dumbledore can help us figure this out."

Two champions of Hogwarts, yet neither of us wanted to be here.

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Thoughts? I'm so excited for this year and the tournament! I had to let Cedric sit on the side-lines for this but on the bright side this likely means he won't die so yayyy. But I did have to introduce him a little bit because I plan to use him for something later in the year hehe