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┄┄ .•* 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟑 *•. ┄┄

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔

────── *•. ⚡︎ .•*──────

The next day, Saturday, Hermione was shaken awake by Lily. All of her other roommates had left the dorm since students were going down earlier to examine the Goblet of Fire. Hermione couldn't care less. She knew what would happen anyway, but still, she was shaken awake from her slumber—even if she had woken up earlier, to mutter the incantation for the Animagus project, only to pass out afterward.

"Mia, don't you want to see who'll enter?" Lily asked and Hermione groaned.

"Go away, flower!" said Hermione through her pillow, and Lily grinned at the familiar nickname.

"Come on Mia, aren't you curious? Don't you want to get out of bed?" Lily continued to shake her.

"I already know everything. . . ." Hermione mumbled.

"Aren't you hungry?"

"I—Well, now I am!" Hermione exclaimed and threw the covers off her as Lily laughed. 

Hermione rolled her eyes and told the older woman to vanish so she could change. She put on low rise straight jeans with a cropped Scarface t-shirt so her lower stomach was showing. She put on her converse and leather jacket and went down to the Entrance Hall.

When she got to the entrance hall, she saw about twenty people milling around it, some of them eating toast, all examining the Goblet of Fire. It had been placed in the center of the hall on the stool that normally bore the Sorting Hat. A thin golden line had been traced on the floor, forming a circle ten feet around it in every direction.

"Ready?" she heard Fred say to the other George and Lee, quivering with excitement, as she approached them grinning with her camera on hand.

"C'mon, then—I'll go first—"

Hermione watched, as Fred pulled a slip of parchment out of his pocket bearing the words Fred Weasley—Hogwarts. Fred walked right up to the edge of the line and stood there, rocking on his toes like a diver preparing for a fifty-foot drop. Then, with the eyes of every person in the entrance hall upon him, he took a great breath and stepped over the line.

George let out a yell of triumph and leapt after Fred—but the next moment, there was a loud sizzling sound, and both twins were hurled out of the golden circle as though they had been thrown by an invisible shot-putter. They landed painfully, ten feet away on the cold stone floor, and to add insult to injury, there was a loud popping noise, and both of them sprouted identical long white beards. Hermione had documented all of this as she laughed.

The entrance hall rang with laughter. Even Fred and George joined in, once they had gotten to their feet and taken a good look at each other's beards.

"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."

Fred and George, puffed out their chests and dramatically stroked their beards, before bowing dramatically and setting off for the hospital wing, accompanied by Lee, who was howling with laughter, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione, also chortling, went into breakfast.

The decorations in the Great Hall had changed this morning. As it was Halloween, a cloud of live bats was fluttering around the enchanted ceiling, while hundreds of carved pumpkins leered from every corner. Harry led the way over to Dean and Seamus, who were discussing those Hogwarts students of seventeen or over who might be entering.

"There's a rumor going around that Warrington got up early and put his name in," Dean told Harry. "That big bloke from Slytherin who looks like a sloth."

"We can't have a Slytherin champion!"

"And all the Hufflepuffs are talking about Diggory," said Seamus contemptuously. "But I wouldn't have thought he'd have wanted to risk his good looks."

"He'd look hot with scars. . . ." said Hermione bluntly and they gaped at her while she shrugged.

 "What? I can't find people attractive, now? I must tell you that I find all of you good-looking. Especially you, Dean, shame that you're taken. . . ." Hermione said and they looked at her wide eyes as Dean and Seamus went red in the face. They weren't able to reply, however, as there was noise coming from the entrance hall.

People were cheering out in the entrance hall. They all swiveled around in their seats and saw Angelina Johnson coming into the Hall, grinning in an embarrassed sort of way. "Well, I've done it! Just put my name in!"

Hermione squealed and hugged the girl, "You're awesome, Angie!"

"You're kidding!" said Ron, looking impressed.

"Are you seventeen, then?" asked Harry.

"'Course she is, can't see a beard, can you?" said Ron.

"I had my birthday last week," said Angelina throwing a knowing look at Hermione who started laughing—on Angie's birthday, she had been invited to the latter's dorm, and gotten drunk, ending up making out with Alicia Spinnet in the process (both of them laughed about it the next morning).

"I'm glad we have a lion in the run," said Hermione. "I really hope you get it, Angie!"

"Thanks, Mimi," said Angelina, smiling at her, as Hermione scowled at the name, making Dean howl with laughter.

"Yeah, better you than Pretty-Boy Diggory," said Seamus, causing several Hufflepuffs passing their table to scowl heavily at him.

"I get he's not your type Seamus but less hate, please," said Hermione with a knowing glance at Dean, making Seamus shut up.

"What're we going to do today, then?" Ron asked Harry and Hermione when they had finished breakfast and were leaving the Great Hall.

"We haven't been down to visit Hagrid yet," said Harry.

"Okay," said Ron, "just as long as he doesn't ask us to donate a few fingers to the skrewts."

Hermione grinned and jumped on Harry's back, making him smile up at her, as they continued walking, "Can we go to the pitch afterward?" she asked.

"Sure thing, Mione, " Harry smiled and Hermione grinned kissing his cheek, and leaving Ron to frown.

"Hey, Ron," said Harry suddenly. "It's your friend . . ."

The students from Beauxbatons were coming through the front doors from the grounds, among them, Fleur Delacour. Those gathered around the Goblet of Fire stood back to let them pass, watching eagerly.

Madame Maxime entered the hall behind her students and organized them into a line. One by one, the Beauxbatons students stepped across the Age Line and dropped their slips of parchment into the blue-white flames. As each name entered the fire, it turned briefly red and emitted sparks.

"What d'you reckon'll happen to the ones who aren't chosen?" Ron muttered to Harry as Fleur Delacour dropped her parchment into the Goblet of Fire. "Reckon they'll go back to school, or hang around to watch the tournament?"

"Dunno," said Harry. "Hang around, I suppose. . . . Madame Maxime's staying to judge, isn't she?"

When all the Beauxbatons students had submitted their names, Madame Maxime led them back out of the hall and out onto the grounds again.

"Where are they sleeping, then?" said Ron, moving toward the front doors and staring after them.

"Their carriage?" Hermione shrugged.

As they neared Hagrid's cabin on the edge of the Forbidden Forest—Hermione still on Harry's back—, the mystery of the Beauxbatons' sleeping quarters was solved. The gigantic powder-blue carriage in which they had arrived had been parked two hundred yards from Hagrid's front door, and the students were climbing back inside it. The elephantine flying horses that had pulled the carriage were now grazing in a makeshift paddock alongside it.

Harry knocked on Hagrid's door, and Fang's booming barks answered instantly "'Bout time!" said Hagrid, when he'd flung open the door. "Thought you lot'd forgotten where I live!"

Hermione gaped at his figure. She had read it in the book but in person. . . .Hagrid was wearing his best (and very horrible) hairy brown suit, plus a checked yellow-and-orange tie. This wasn't the worst of it, though; he had evidently tried to tame his hair, using large quantities of what appeared to be axle grease. It was now slicked down into two bunches—perhaps he had tried a ponytail like Bill's, but found he had too much hair. The look didn't really suit Hagrid at all.  

"Do you want some of my fashion magazines?" Hermione blurted out, making Harry and Ron snort, as Hagrid frowned.

"Where are the skrewts?" asked Harry, trying not to laugh at Hermione's blunt comment.

"Out by the pumpkin patch," said Hagrid happily. "They're gettin' massive, mus' be nearly three foot long now. On'y trouble is, they've started killin' each other."

"Shame" said Hermione sarcastically—not that Hagrid noticed—, trying not to make any comments on his appearance.

"Yeah," said Hagrid sadly. " 'S' okay, though, I've got 'em in separate boxes now. Still got abou' twenty."

"Well, that's lucky," said Ron. Again, Hagrid missed the sarcasm.

Hagrid's cabin comprised a single room, in one corner of which was a gigantic bed covered in a patchwork quilt. A similarly enormous wooden table and chairs stood in front of the fire beneath the quantity of cured hams and dead birds hanging from the ceiling. They sat down at the table while Hagrid started to make tea, and were soon immersed in yet more discussion of the Triwizard Tournament. Hagrid seemed quite as excited about it as they were.

"You wait," he said, grinning. "You jus' wait. Yer going ter see some stuff yeh've never seen before. Firs' task . . . ah, but I'm not supposed ter say."

"Go on, Hagrid!" Harry and Ron urged him, but he just shook his head, grinning along with Hermione.

"I don' want ter spoil it fer yeh," said Hagrid. "But it's gonna be spectacular, I'll tell yeh that. Them champions're going ter have their work cut out. Never thought I'd live ter see the Triwizard Tournament played again!"

They ended up having lunch with Hagrid, though they didn't eat much—Hagrid had made what he said was a beef casserole, however, Hermione told Hagrid they were on a hunger strike they didn't have to actually eat it.

Nevertheless, they enjoyed themselves trying to make Hagrid tell them what the tasks in the tournament were going to be, speculating which of the entrants were likely to be selected as champions, and wondering whether Fred and George were beardless yet.

A light rain had started to fall by midafternoon; it was very cozy sitting by the fire, listening to the gentle patter of the drops on the window.

By half-past five it was growing dark, and Ron, Harry, and Hermione decided it was time to get back up to the castle for the Halloween feast—and, more importantly, the announcement of the school champions; Hermione was actually nervous (not for her, for Harry. This was when shit started to go down).

"I'll come with yeh," said Hagrid, putting away his darning. "Jus' give us a sec."

Hagrid got up, went across to the chest of drawers beside his bed, and began searching for something inside it. They didn't pay too much attention until a truly horrible smell reached their nostrils. Coughing, Ron said, "Hagrid, what's that?"

"Eh?" said Hagrid, turning around with a large bottle in his hand. "Don' yeh like it?"

"Is that aftershave?" said Hermione in a slightly choked voice.

"Er—eau de cologne," Hagrid muttered. He was blushing. "Maybe it's a bit much," he said gruffly. "I'll go take it off, hang on . . ."

He stumped out of the cabin, and they saw him washing himself vigorously in the water barrel outside the window.

"Eau de cologne?" said Hermione in amazement. "Hagrid?"

"And what's with the hair and the suit?" said Harry in an undertone.

"Look!" said Ron suddenly, pointing out of the window.

Hagrid had just straightened up and turned 'round. If he had been blushing before, it was nothing to what he was doing now. Getting to their feet very cautiously, so that Hagrid wouldn't spot them, Harry, Ron, and Hermione peered through the window and saw that Madame Maxime and the Beauxbatons students had just emerged from their carriage, clearly about to set off for the feast too. They couldn't hear what Hagrid was saying, but he was talking to Madame Maxime with a rapt, misty-eyed expression.

"He ditched us!" said Hermione indignantly.

Without so much as a backward glance at his cabin, Hagrid was trudging off up the grounds with Madame Maxime, the Beauxbatons students following in their wake, jogging to keep up with their enormous strides.

"He fancies her!" said Ron incredulously. "Well, if they end up having children, they'll be setting a world record—bet any baby of theirs would weigh about a ton." 

Hermione cracked up at this, while jumped on Ron's back this time leaving Harry to frown.

They let themselves out of the cabin and shut the door behind them. It was surprisingly dark outside. Drawing their cloaks more closely around themselves, they set off up the sloping lawns.

"OI! DRUMSTRANG LOT!" Hermione shouted from Ron's back and most of them turned to her and grinned. 

The Durmstrang party was walking up toward the castle from the lake. Viktor Krum was walking side by side with Karkaroff, and the other Durmstrang students were straggling along behind them. 

"GOOD LUCK!" she said and while most nodded, some sent her thumbs up or whistles leaving Hermione to laugh.

When they entered the candlelit Great Hall it was almost full. The Goblet of Fire had been moved; it was now standing in front of Dumbledore's empty chair at the teachers' table. Fred and George—clean-shaven again—seemed to have taken their disappointment fairly well.

"Hope it's Angelina," said Fred as Harry, Ron, and Hermione reached them. Hermione hopped off Ron's back and sat down next to Fred, Harry by her side, Ron by his side.

"Same," said Hermione with a smile at Angie, missing how some of the blokes around her swoon. Hermione would do good to start noticing her surroundings.

The Halloween feast seemed to take much longer than usual. Perhaps because it was their second feast in two days.

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, however, 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 please to 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 al- most painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting. . . . A few people kept checking their watches. . . .

"Any second," Lee Jordan whispered, seated a couple of seats away from Hermione next to George.

The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. The next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it — the whole room gasped, except Hermione.

Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white.

"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 rose from the Slytherin table and slouch up toward Dumbledore; he turned right, walked along the staff table, and disappeared through the door into the next chamber.

"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"

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!"

"GO, FLOWER!" Hermione shouted as the girl in question got gracefully to her feet, shook back her sheet of silvery blonde hair, and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.

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 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!"

"No!" said Ron loudly, but nobody heard him except Hermione and Harry; the uproar from the next table was too great. 

Every single Hufflepuff 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 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.

Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment—Hermione grabbed Harry's hand from under the table; much to the boy's confusion. Dumbledore held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out —

"Harry Potter."

Hermione saw as every head in the hall turned towards Harry and the boy and question went numb.

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 toward her, frowning slightly.

Harry turned to Ron and Hermione; beyond them, he saw the long Gryffindor table all watching him, openmouthed.

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

"I know, Prongslet, but you have to go, " Hermione said lowly as she squeezed his hand in reassurance while Ron stared at him blankly.

At the top table, Professor Dumbledore had straightened up, nodding to Professor McGonagall.

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

"Go, Harry, and relax," Hermione whispered, giving Harry a slight push. Harry got to his feet, trod on the hem of his robes, and stumbled slightly. He set off up the gap between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. As soon as he left the Great Hall all burst into murmurs and loud protests.

"How in the bloody hell did he put his name in the Goblet?" Ron asked Hermione in outrage.

"He didn't, you bloody moron. Didn't you listen?"

"He could be lying," Ron rebutted and Hermione glared at him.

"Ronald Weasley, you listen to me," Hermione hissed dangerously, making Ron's eyes widen slightly as he gulped. "That's your best friend you're talking about and you know him well enough by now, to know he wouldn't lie, so you better get it together, 'cause I will tear off your head otherwise!"

They were quickly let off by the teachers that ordered them to go to bed. Hermione however waited down in the Entrance Hall for Harry—Ron along with her, after she pulled at his ear so he wouldn't move.

"So . . . tell me . . ." The two heard Cedric say 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?"

"I didn't," said Harry, staring up at him. "I didn't put it in. I was telling the truth."

"Ah . . . okay," said Cedric. But anyone could tell Cedric didn't believe him. "Well . . . see you, then."

Instead of going up the marble staircase, Cedric headed for a door to its right giving Hermione a slight smile which she returned with a thumbs up. Ron and she, then saw Harry turn and be startled by them.

"You don't believe me either do ya?" Harry asked them grimly.

"Of course we do. Don't be daft, Harold," Hermione snorted as she hugged him. She then sent a pointed look at Ron and the latter cleared his throat awkwardly.

"I, uh. I didn't. But then Hermione threatened to cut my head off and you know. . . .She's bloody scary. . . ." Ron said and Harry laughed, "You wouldn't lie, would you?"

"I swear I wouldn't!" Harry said immediately, and Ron cracked a grin.

"Well, whoever put your name in the Goblet must be trying to kill you. How can a fourteen-year-old lanky bloke survive the Tournament?" Ron said ad Hermione laughed as Harry grimaced.

"Thanks, Ron. Real supportive."

"You're welcome, mate." Ron laughed as they reached the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Well, well, well," said the Fat Lady, "Violet's just told me everything. Who's just been chosen as school champion, then?"

"Balderdash," said Harry dully.

"It most certainly isn't!" said the pale witch indignantly.

"No, no, Vi, it's the password," said the Fat Lady soothingly, and she swung forward on her hinges to let the three into the common room.

The blast of noise that met their ears when the portrait opened almost knocked them backward. Next thing they knew, they were being wrenched inside the common room by about a dozen pairs of hands—Harry was, Hermione and Ron had just the unfortunate luck of walking in with him—, and were facing the whole of Gryffindor House, all of whom were screaming, applauding, and whistling.

"You should've told us you'd entered!" bellowed Fred; he looked half annoyed, half deeply impressed.

"How did you do it without getting a beard? Brilliant!" roared George.

"I didn't," Harry said. "I don't know how—"

But Angelina had now swooped down upon him; "Oh if it couldn't be me, at least it's a Gryffindor—"

"You'll be able to pay back Diggory for that last Quidditch match, Harry!" shrieked Katie Bell, another of the Gryffindor Chasers.

"We've got food, Harry, come and have some—"

"I'm not hungry, I had enough at the feast—"

But nobody wanted to hear that he wasn't hungry; nobody wanted to hear that he hadn't put his name in the goblet; not one single person seemed to have noticed that he wasn't at all in the mood to celebrate. . . . Lee Jordan had unearthed a Gryffindor banner from somewhere, and he insisted on draping it around Harry like a cloak. Everyone wanted to know how he had done it, how he had tricked Dumbledore's Age Line and managed to get his name into the goblet. . . .

"I didn't," he said, over and over again, "I don't know how it happened."

But for all the notice anyone took, he might just as well not have answered at all. Hermione had enough of this. She stood up on a table and with the help of the Sonorus charm, she roared, "Calm the fuck down, you lot."

Immediately, the uproar in the room died down as they looked over at the curly-haired witch.

"If Harry says he didn't put the name in the Goblet, then he didn't. Whether you want to believe that or not it's whatever, but stop harassing him, like you just found your long-lost puppy after years of exile, or I will tear every limb in your body apart, and spread them through the forbidden forest for the animals to eat!" 

With that, the whole common room went even quieter and started stepping away from Harry.

"Now, that wasn't so hard was it?" she said with a sweet smile and hopped off the table in time to see Harry smiling at her as he went up the dorms.

"That was hot, Granger," she heard Fred say behind her, and she turned to him with a smirk. He realized what he said and went red, fortunately being saved by his brother.

"Remind me never to go against you again, Mione. Wouldn't want my leg eaten by a wolf," George said and she laughed.

"I'm going to bed. Good night, guys," she said, and then kissed both of them on the cheek before going upstairs.

"Are you aware that you have at least two guys pining over you?" she heard Lily's voice as she entered her empty dorm, finding the woman and her husband grinning at her.

"Yeah, right," Hermione scoffed.

"Fred Weasley," James said with a smirk.

"I think he likes Angie."

"And let's not mention Lynch," Lily said with a pointed look.

"Lynch I'll give to you." Hermione sighed, "Now aren't you gonna ask anything about the tournament?"

"Nah." James shrugged.

"You already told James everything, and subsequently he told me."

"We just need to find a way to save Pretty Boy Diggory," James said and Hermione nodded.

"Yeah. . . . Just that."

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