On Friday afternoon, Ben couldn't hold back his excitement for the bell to ring ealier, and it seemed to be the same thing everyone was feeling. Nobody was very attentive in lessons, being much more interested in the arrival of the foreign students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang.

When the potions class was finally over, Harry, Ron, Ben, and Hermione hurried up to Gryffindor Tower, left their bags and books there, as they had been told, pulled on their cloaks, and rushed back downstairs into the entrance hall.

The Heads of Houses were ordering their students into lines.

"Weasley, straighten your hat," Professor McGonagall snapped at Ron. "Miss Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair."

Parvati scowled and removed a large ornamental butterfly from the end of her plait.

"Follow me, please," instructed Professor McGonagall. "First years in front... No pushing- No pushing!"

They filed down the steps and lined up in front of the castle. It was a cold, clear evening; dusk was falling and a faint, ethereal moon was already casting its glow upon the Forbidden Forest. The crowd of students was speaking loudly, wondering how they would arrive at the castle.

And then Dumbledore called out from the back row where he stood with the other teachers. "Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

"Where?" asked many students eagerly, all looking in different directions.

"There!" yelled a sixth year, pointing over the forest.

Something enormous was hurtling across the deep blue sky toward the castle, growing larger all the time. A first year girl shrieked 'It's a dragon!" with such genuine excitement and astonishment that it made Ben burst out laughing.

As the gigantic black shape skimmed over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest and the lights shining from the castle windows hit it, they saw a gigantic, powderblue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring toward them, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant.

The front three rows of students drew backward as the carriage hurtled ever lower, coming in to land at a tremendous speed. Then, with an almighty crash that made Neville jump backward onto a Slytherin fifth year's foot, the horses' hooves hit the ground. A second later, the carriage landed too, bouncing upon its vast wheels, while the golden horses tossed their enormous heads and rolled large, fiery red eyes.

Before Ben had the chance to distinguish what the simble on the door was, it opened.

A boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage, bent forward, fumbled for a moment with something on the carriage floor, and unfolded a set of golden steps. He sprang back respectfully. And then, out of the carriage, came the biggest woman Ben had ever seen in his entire life. He was reminded of the first time he had seen Hagrid, and of his surprise at his size. However, it almost seemed as though this woman was even bigger than Hagrid.

As she stepped into the light flooding from the entrance hall, she was revealed to have a handsome, olive-skinned face; large, black, liquid-looking eyes; and a rather beaky nose. Her hair was drawn back in a shining knob at the base of her neck. She was dressed from head to foot in black satin, and many magnificent opals gleamed at her throat and on her thick fingers.

Dumbledore started to clap; the students, following his lead, broke into applause too, many of them standing on tiptoe, the better to look at this woman. Her face relaxed into a gracious smile and she walked forward toward Dumbledore, extending a glittering hand for the man to kiss it.

"My dear Madame Maxime, welcome to Hogwarts."

"Oh," Ben whispered to Harry, Ron and Hermione. "So this is the woman those french girls were searching for in the World Cup!"

"Dumbly-dorr," said Madame Maxime in a deep voice and a thick french accent. "I 'ope I find you well?"

"In excellent form, I thank you."

"My pupils," Madame Maxime waved one of her huge hands carelessly at the group of boys and girls behind her. All of them looked like they were freezing, due to their thin robes, which seemed to be made of fine silk. "'As Karkaroff arrived yet?"

"He should be here any moment," the man answered. "Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"

As both headmasters continued talking, Harry turned to his friends and, in a whisper, he asked; "Karkaroff is Durmstrang's headmaster, isn't he?"

Ben nodded. "That's right. Did you know that the Malfoys were thinking about taking him there?"

"We did," replied Ron. "He told us, though I don't even remember why. Why did they change their minds on it?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, "but I'm pretty sure my parents convinced them of bringing him here. They wanted us to make up and be friends, after all."

"The lake!" yelled Lee Jordan, all of a sudden, pointing down at it. "Look at the lake!"

There was a loud and considerably eerie noise approaching them from the darkness. It sounded similar to a muffled rumbling and sucking. As Lee Jordan had said, it was coming from the lake, whose dark, normally smooth surface was no longer smooth in the slightest. A kind of turbulence was making it tremble from the depths of it, until a big whirlpool appeared in the middle of the lake.

"It's a mast!" Harry told his friends, referring to something that resembled a long and black pole which was coming out of said whirlpool.

Slowly and splendidly, a ship lifted out of the water, shining under the moonlight. It had a strange, skeletal appearance which made it look like it was a wreck which had been brought back to life. Finally, producing a sloshing noise, the ship fully surfaced, floating on the turbulent water, and began gliding toward the shore. The splash of an anchor being thrown down into the shallows, and the thud of a plank being lowered onto the shore, were followed by the sounds of people disembarking. As they walked up the lawns, and were illuminated from the light coming from the Great Hall, it became clear that the Durmstrang students had been smarter than the Beauxbatons ones, at least regarding clothes. They were wearing cloaks of some kind of shaggy, matted fur. But the man who was leading them up to the castle was wearing furs of a different sort: sleek and silver, like his hair.

"Dumbledore!" he called heartily as he walked up the slope. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff."

Karkaroff had a fruity, unctuous voice; when he stepped into the light pouring from the front doors of the castle they saw that he was thin and tall, like Dumbledore, but his white hair was short, and his goatee finished in a quite funny small curl. As soon as he reached the Hogwarts headmaster, he shook hands with both of his own.

"Dear old Hogwarts," he said, looking up at the castle and smiling; showing the rather yellowish colour of his teeth. "How good it is to be here, how good. Viktor, come along, into the warmth... you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold."

Karkaroff beckoned forward one of his students. Before Ben could even catch a glimpse of the boy, Ron let out a muffled yet incredibly high-pitched scream. "It's Krum!"

———————————————

"I can't believe it," Ron kept saying on and on, in a stunned voice, as the Hogwarts students filed back up the steps behind the party from Durmstrang. "Krum, Harry! Viktor Krum!"

"For heaven's sake, Ron, he's only a Quidditch player," complained Hermione, rolling her eyes.

"Only a Quidditch player?" repeated Ron, his light blue eyes so open it seemed they were about to fall out. "Hermione- Hermione, he's one of the best Seekers in the world! I had no idea he was still at school!"

"It's very impressive to know he made it that far in professional Quidditch while still being at school," agreed Ben.

"I didn't know you were a Krum fanboy, too," said Harry, grinning at Ben in a way that made him forget he had the capability to speak.

"I-I-I... I'm not," he stammered like an idiot. Ron suddenly began giggling to himself, covering his mouth with his hands, and earning a glare from Harry. "Thomas is, thought."

"Oh, yes, I know!" said Ron. "We talked about him that night!"

As they recrossed the entrance hall with the rest of the Hogwarts students heading for the Great Hall, Lee Jordan was jumping up and down on the soles of his feet to get a better look at the back of Krum's head. Several sixth-year girls were frantically searching their pockets as they walked.

"Oh I don't believe it, I haven't got a single quill on me-"

"D'you think he'd sign my hat in lipstick?"

"Really," Hermione said loftily as they passed the girls, now squabbling over the lipstick.

"I'm getting his autograph if I can," announced Ron. "You haven't got a quill, have you, Harry? Ben?"

"Nope, they're upstairs, in my bag."

"Mine are upstairs, too."

They walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat down. Ron took care to sit on the side facing the doorway, because Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students were still gathered around it, apparently unsure about where they should sit. The students from Beauxbatons had chosen seats at the Ravenclaw table. They were looking around the Great Hall with glum expressions on their faces. Three of them were still clutching scarves and shawls around their heads.

"It's not that cold," said Hermione defensively. "Why didn't they bring cloaks?"

"Over here! Come and sit over here!" hissered Ron. "Over here! Hermione, budge up, make a space-"

"What?"

"Too late," said Ron bitterly.

Viktor Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students had settled themselves at the Slytherin table. Harry could see Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle looking very smug about this. As he watched, Malfoy bent forward to speak to Krum.

"Lucky Thomas," commented Ron, and turned to Ben. "Do you think he can get me an autograph if they end up being friends?"

"Perhaps."

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and, most particularly, guests," said Dumbledore, beaming around at the foreign students. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable. The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast. I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

He sat down, and the plates in front of them filled with food as usual. The house elves in the kitchen seemed to have pulled out all the stops; there was a greater variety of dishes in front of them than they had ever seen, including several that were definitely foreign.

"What's that?" asked Ron, pointing at a large dish of some sort of shellfish stew that stood beside a large steak-and-kidney pudding.

"Bouillabaisse."

"Bless you."

"It's French," Hermione rolled her eyes again. "I had it on holiday two summers ago. It's very nice."

"Do French people eat that everyday?"

"Of course not," replied Ben. "My father's French, and we never eat that at home. I'm pretty sure I've never even tried it."

"Well, you really should, it's delicious," commented Hermione.

———————————————

The next morning, when Harry, Ben, Ron and Hermione went down into the entrance hall before having breakfast, they weren't surprised in the slightest at the sight of around twenty people observing the Goblet of Fire from behind a thin golden line that had been traced on the floor, forming a circle ten feet around it in every direction.

"Has anyone put their name in yet?" Ron asked a younger girl eagerly.

"All the Durmstrang lot," she replied. "But I haven't seen anyone from Hogwarts yet."

"Bet some of them put it in last night after we'd all gone to bed," said Harry. "I would've if it had been me... wouldn't have wanted everyone watching. What if the goblet just gobbed you right back out again?"

Someone laughed behind Harry. Turning, they saw Fred, George, and Lee Jordan hurrying down the staircase, all three of them looking extremely excited.

"Done it," Fred whispered, triumphantly to Harry, Ron, Ben, and Hermione. "Just taken it."

"Taken what?"

"The Aging Potion, dung brains," he explained.

"One drop each," George rubbed his hands together with glee. "We only need to be a few months older."

"We're going to split the thousand Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins," said Lee, grinning broadly.

"I'm not sure this is going to work, you know," warned Hermione. "I'm sure Dumbledore will have thought of this."

Lee, George and Fred blatantly ignored her.

Fred pulled out of his pocket a small piece of parchment with the words Fred Weasley -Hogwars, before walking up to the edge of the line and standing there for a while. He took a deep breath and, with the eyes of every single person in the entrance hall upon him, he stepped over the line.

For an instant, it seemed to have worked. Some younger students began clapping as Lee let out a yell of triumph and George ran to join his brother. But, a second later, there was an incredibly loud sizzling sound, and both twins were jeeted out of the golden circle. They landed forcefully against the cold stone floor. And, to put the cherry on top, there was a popping noise, and both of them sprouted identical long white beards.

The entire hall burst into roaring laughter, with even Fred and George eventually joining in when they got to their feet and got a clearer vision of their appearances.

"I did warn you," said a deep, amused voice, and everyone turned to see Professor Dumbledore coming out of the Great Hall. He surveyed Fred and George, his eyes twinkling. "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours."

———————————————

The Halloween feast seemed to take much longer than usual. Although the plates in front of them were full of delicious-looking food, most people simply wanted them to finally clear, and to find out who had been selected as champions. Even though Ben was still worried about the fact that Cedric could be risking his life by joining, he honestly wished he became the Hogwarts champion. He knew his friend was really excited about the idea, and he would do an awesome job.

However, if he wasn't picked, Ben would've been glad if it was Angelina Johnson, instead. She was a girl from Fred and George's grade, who played Chaser in the Gryffindor team.

At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state; there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall, which died away almost instantly as Dumbledore got to his feet. On either side of him, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Ludo Bagman was beaming and winking at various students. Mr. Crouch, who had joined them for the celebration, looked quite uninterested, almost bored.

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them to please come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber," he indicated the door behind the staff table, "where they will be receiving their first instructions."

He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting...

The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it. The whole room gasped as Dumbledore caught it, and lifted it up so he could read it by the light of the flames.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."

"No surprises there!" yelled Ron as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Viktor Krum emotionlessly stood up from the Slytherin table, and walked up towards Dumbledore. He turned right, walked past the staff table, and disappeared through the door into the next chamber, as the headmaster had just instructed.

The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused again on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames. "The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"

"It's her, Ron!" Harry whispered to Ron.

Ben wondered who he meant by her, until a young woman with such stunning beauty that it was almost impossible to look away from her got gracefully to her feet, smiling from ear to ear. She shook back her silvery blond hair, which moved silkily with each of her movements.

When Fleur Delacour too had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement you could almost taste it. The Hogwarts champion was next.

And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.

"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Cedric Diggory!"

"YES!" roared Ben, clapping along with pretty much the whole school.

"NO!" shouted Ron, earning a kick from Ben.

Every single Hufflepuff, and some students from other houses (including Ben and Mei-Xing), had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly, and headed off toward the chamber behind the teachers' table. Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real-"

But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him.

The fire in the goblet was no longer white, or blue. It had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.

Dumbledore's bushy, white eyebrows furrowed as he reached out to seize the fourth piece of parchment. He read it once. And then twice. The man stared at it, blankly, and without uttering a word. Until he cleared his throat, and read it out loud.

"Harry Potter."

Every single head in the Great Hall had turned to look at Harry, who was sitting there, next to Ben, looking aghast. He slowly turned to his friends, and shook his head. "I didn't put my name in," he whispered. "I didn't."

Hermione and Ron simply stared blankly at him, so Harry's gaze shifted to Ben. And, any sort of doubt of his innocence cleared in his mind at the sight of how full of fear his eyes were.

"I know," he whispered back. "I know you didn't."

Harry visibly relaxed for an instant.

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

"Go on," said Hermione, giving Harry a slight push. "Come on, Harry!"

Harry got up to his feet, full of hesitation, and stumbled slightly before looking at him again. Ben wished he could do something to help him now. He really would've done anything, but his brain didn't seem to be working anymore, and there was nothing on his mind apart from how much he cared about him.

"Come on, Harry," he mumbled as softly as he could. "It's okay, you'll be okay."

Slowly, he walked up to Dumbledore, whose sparkly blue eyes were fixed on him. "Well... Through the door, Harry," he said, his voice as serious and joyless as ever.

———————————————

Ron didn't say a single word the whole way back to the Gryffindor tower, and Ben could tell it was a bad sign. Hermione didn't, either. And, to be honest, not many people did. Once they reached their common room, the girl turned to both of them, and stared in silence before asking.

"Did either of you know?"

"No," they both replied at once.

Hermione slowly nodded in understanding. "Good night."

Neville, Ron, Dean, Seamus and Ben walked upstairs to their dorm in a silence they only broke as soon as they closed the door behind them.

"I can't believe he's done this," Seamus was the first to speak.

"Me neither," Dean quickly joined in.

"How can someone be this desperate for attention?" wondered Seamus, before turning to Ron and Ben. "Did he tell you how he was planning on doing it?"

"No," was Ron's only response. He didn't seem up to chat about it, and he was already changing into his pyjamas.

"What about you?" asked Dean, referring to Ben. "Has he told you how he put his name in there?"

"Of course he hasn't," he stated, unbuttoning his shirt. "Because he didn't do it."

"What did you say?"

"What you heard me say."

Ron turned to him. "Ben, look, I get that he's supposed to be our friend, but you can't be that stupid."

"You're calling me stupid because I trust my best friend?"

"It's not about trust," Dean tried to reason. "It's about the fact that his name came out of that goblet."

"You can't deny that, for his name to come out of it, it means it had to be inside," explained Seamus. "And that also means it had to be put inside."

"I'm not saying it randomly appeared there, out of nowhere," retorted Ben, beginning to get mad. He didn't like in the slightest the way they were talking about his friend. "I know that someone put his name in there. But it wasn't Harry!"

"Oh, please, Ben," exclaimed Ron. "You know perfectly well that the only reason you're defending him is that you are-"

Ron didn't finish his sentence. But it wasn't because someone had interrupted him. He simply had decided not to continue speaking. A terrible sensation crept onto Ben's chest.

"Because I'm what?"

"Nevermind that."

"No, Ron," he insisted. "Tell me what you were about to say, come on!"

"No, forget it!"

"No!"

"You really don't want me to say it!"

"Why not?"

The dorm door opened again, and everyone's heads turned to Harry, who had just stepped in, and was looking terrible. He looked at all of them, frozen, probably waiting for someone to say something.

"Hi, Harry," greeted Ben, as kindly and casually as possible, pretending he hadn't just been arguing with someone.

"Hey."

Ben's greeting seemed to have acted as an invitation for Harry to walk in. Everyone went back to acting normal, or as normal as it was possible. Ben was taking his shirt off and putting his pyjamas on as quickly as he could, Dean and Thomas were already inside their beds, Neville was about to, and Harry was folding some of his clothes when Ron finally spoke to him.

"So," he said. "Congratulations."

"What'd you mean, congratulations?" he asked, frowning.

"Well, no one else got across the Age Line. Not even Fred and George," he lowered his volume to whisper something only for him to hear.

"That wouldn't have got me over the line," explained Harry, very slowly.

"Oh, right," said Ron. "I thought you might've told me if it was the cloak... because it would've covered both of us, wouldn't it? I wonder if you took Ben with you, so he could also put his name into the goblet and become even richer than he is now."

"Don't bring him into this," he hissed.

Ben felt something very strange in his stomach.

"Listen, I didn't put my name into the goblet," he explained, after taking a deep breath to calm down. "Someone else must've done it."

"What would they do that for?"

"I dunno," shrugged Harry. "To kill me."

"It's okay, you know, you can tell me the truth," he said. "If you don't want everyone else to know, fine, but I don't know why you're bothering to lie, you didn't get into trouble for it, did you? That friend of the Fat Lady's, that Violet, she's already told us all Dumbledore's letting you enter. A thousand Galleons prize money, eh? And you don't have to do end-of-year tests either..."

"I didn't put my name in that goblet!" repeated Harry, starting to feel angry.

"Yeah, okay," hummed Ron, in a skeptical tone. "Only you said this morning you'd have done it last night, and no one would've seen you... I'm not stupid, you know."

"You're doing a really good impression of it," Harry snapped.

Neville gasped.

"Yeah?" he said, clenching his jaw. "I guess that's all I'm good for, isn't that right? Being nothing more than Harry Potter's stupid friend."

And, with that, he wrenched the hangings shut around his bed, leaving a crestfallen Harry staring at the curtains separating him from his best friend.

The sound of Dean and Seamus drawing their curtains too came from the other side of the room, which became completely silent, except for Neville's breathing, becoming deeper and deeper, hinting that he was falling asleep.

Harry didn't move. He simply stood there, his eyes still fixed on Ron's curtains.

"Harry," called Ben in a whisper, sitting on his bed. The boy slowly turned to face him. "Are you okay?"

He mumbled something Ben didn't understand. Harry cleared his throat, and began walking towards his bed. "I thought he would believe me."

Ben nodded, getting to his feet, and walking up to him. "So did I."

"Has Hermione told you anything about this? Do you know what she thinks?"

He shook his head. "She only asked us if we knew. I don't know if she believes you or not, but I don't think she's mad. I guess we'll find out tomorrow."

"Right," he said, and sat down on his bed. He was silent for a while. He took a deep breath, and ran his hands over his face, looking desperate. Ben sat beside him. "What's going to happen tomorrow, Ben?"

Ben breathed in. "I don't know for sure. Though I think it's safe to say it won't be easy for you," he said. Harry clenched his jaw, suddenly making it look incredibly sharp. Ben blinked very quickly.

Harry looked up from his hands to Ben's eyes. He swallowed nervously, realising how close to his friend he had sat. He hadn't noticed how incredibly small the space between them was. Harry seemed to have just now realised, too. His eyes were sparkling beautifully in the darkness, illuminated only by the lights coming from his bedside lamp.

A desperate longing rose within him, compelling him to lessen the distance between them. He didn't even know what he was thinking of. His mind was empty, aside from that uncanny sensation, that strange need. He desired to get closer to him, but he didn't trust himself, so he forced himself to get to his feet.

It was suddenly very cold, now that he was away from him.

Harry cleared his throat awkwardly. "I know most people won't believe me. I knew it from the moment I heard Dumbledore call my name. But I thought it was safe for me to think you three would be on my side..."

"I can't decide what they do," said Ben. "But I can make sure you won't ever be completely alone. I won't let that happen. I will always be by your side, no matter what happens."

Harry's lips drew a weak smile. "Thank you."

A/N: It's getting nearer guys...

hope you enjoyed!