The Second Day
Though it was Saturday, traditionally a day when Hogwarts students indulged in the rare opportunity to sleep past dawn, every dormitory in the castle became active with unusual energy well before the sun had fully crested the Scottish Highlands.
The cause of this unprecedented early rising was undoubtedly the Goblet of Fire, which had been the focus of every conversation, dream, and waking thought since the previous evening's ceremony.
Students who normally had to be dragged from their beds by concerned roommates were now leaping awake with the eager anticipation typically reserved for Christmas morning or the start of summer holidays.
The Goblet of Fire had been relocated overnight from the Great Hall to the very center of the entrance hall, on the same three-legged wooden stool that usually supported the Sorting Hat during the opening feast each September.
The choice of location was both practical and symbolic. The entrance hall served as the crossroads of Hogwarts life, where all four houses inevitably intersected multiple times throughout each day.
Surrounding the cup were four perfectly straight golden lines, each precisely positioned to create concentric circles that enclosed the Goblet at their center.
This was the magical barrier Dumbledore had promised—the Age Line that would separate the hopeful from the eligible, and those dreamers from the participants.
When Adrian made his leisurely way down the staircase toward the Great Hall for breakfast, moving with the unhurried pace of someone who had already earned his place in the adult world, he found the entrance hall packed beyond capacity with curious students.
Everyone was wondering who would drop slips of parchment bearing their names into the Goblet of Fire.
Adrian, however, found his attention drawn not to the crowd or their excited chatter, but to the four golden lines themselves. While other students saw them as merely decorative barriers, his eye could discern the magical ruins in their seemingly simple appearance.
"Truly worthy of Dumbledore's reputation..." Adrian murmured to himself in genuine admiration, his voice lost in the surrounding buzz of conversation.
This wasn't simply a crude age-detection charm that could be fooled by cosmetic changes or basic transformation magic. The barrier appeared to integrate deep-level magical analysis that would examine not just physical appearance but magical signature, chronological resonance, and probably several other factors that Adrian could only guess at.
Ordinary magic simply couldn't break through such a sophisticated creation. Of course, forcing a breakthrough wasn't entirely impossible—a properly powerfully cast Finite Incantatem could 'theoretically' disrupt the enchantments, but unfortunately for the younger students, that particular counter-charm required both advanced magical knowledge and considerable power that few ordinary students could muster.
Even attempting it would likely trigger alarms and draw unwanted attention from the faculty, making it a poor choice for anyone hoping to circumvent the restrictions quietly.
Just as Adrian was finishing his assessment of Dumbledore's handiwork, sounds of commotion erupted from the direction of Hogwarts' main entrance. The excited chatter of the students began to fade as attention shifted toward this new development.
He turned to see the crowd automatically parting to create a clear passage. Through this human corridor marched the Durmstrang students, their heavy fur cloaks rustling with each step. They moved in perfect formation, their discipline and coordination immediately distinguishing them.
Their appearance was somewhat intimidating.
Leading this impressive march was Igor Karkaroff. He wore a silver-gray fur cloak. His hair and beard had both been trimmed and groomed to create an image of distinguished authority.
But it was his eyes that drew the most attention—small, sharp, and constantly moving as they swept over the crowd with what could only be described as calculating assessment.
Adrian frowned slightly, noticing that Karkaroff's gaze lingered on him for several seconds—as if sizing him up or evaluating him.
This was hardly a kind gesture.
Karkaroff smiled faintly at Adrian, then quickly looked away, leading his group directly to the Goblet of Fire where they stopped. He circled the goblet twice, then announced to his school's students.
"Go ahead, sign up."
The Durmstrang students immediately sprang into action, forming a queue and moving forward one by one, dropping their prepared slips into the Goblet of Fire.
Each time a slip was consumed by the blue flames, the fire in the goblet would shoot up dramatically, showering dazzling sparks that drew gasps of amazement from the watching students.
Viktor Krum walked last, his movements was clean and efficient just like those he made during Quidditch matches.
After completing this ritual, Karkaroff led his students toward the Great Hall with heads held high and expressions of quiet satisfaction. Their entire performance had been carefully choreographed to demonstrate Durmstrang's discipline, confidence, and readiness for whatever challenges lay ahead.
This imposing display left the watching Hogwarts and Beauxbatons students with a mixture of admiration and concern. Many found themselves wondering if their own schools' representatives would be able to match the apparent preparation and determination of the northern visitors.
"The Durmstrang champion is definitely going to be Krum," came a familiar voice from somewhere nearby in the crowd.
Adrian turned his head to locate the speaker and found Harry, Ron, and Hermione had somehow managed to slip through the packed entrance hall and settle themselves close to the action. It was Ron who had spoken, his face was showing an expression of admiration.
At that moment, Harry and his friends noticed Adrian standing nearby, observing the spectacle. The trio immediately began making their way through the crowd toward him.
"Are you here to submit your name as well?" Adrian asked casually as the three students reached his position.
"We're not old enough yet," Harry said regretfully, shaking his head.
Ron began counting on his fingers, his brow furrowed with concentration. "I'm still two years and four months away from seventeen, Hermione's even younger than that."
He pursed his lips, clearly feeling somewhat unwilling to accept this.
"Don't worry too much about the age restriction," Adrian said with a slight chuckle. "Age limits like this are really just intellectual puzzles disguised as absolute barriers. If you ask me, Dumbledore designed this particular obstacle precisely so that determined students could find creative ways to overcome it—otherwise, he could have implemented far more absolute and unbreachable magical protections."
"Really?" Hermione seemed startled by this suggestion.
Adrian hadn't deliberately lowered his voice, so everyone around could hear him clearly.
Immediately, discussions broke out among the crowd.
Just as the excited speculation was reaching a crescendo—
"I never said any such thing, Professor Westeros."
Dumbledore's unhurried voice came from nearby.
Everyone immediately fell silent. All eyes turned toward the entrance to the Great Hall, where Dumbledore was emerging with the relaxed pace of someone who had nowhere urgent to be. He wore robes of purple color decorated with a floral pattern.
"Perhaps I misunderstood your intentions," Adrian replied smoothly, his expression remaining unchanged despite being caught. "There's no harm in encouraging creative thinking, is there?"
"Ah, certainly not," Dumbledore agreed with his typical gentle smile. Then, with a subtle wink directed at the students, he continued,
"By all means, children, feel free to attempt whatever solutions your ingenuity might devise. But I feel obligated to mention that Miss Fawcett of Ravenclaw and Mr. Summers of Hufflepuff are currently receiving medical attention from Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing. They apparently attempted to age themselves using magical means, but clearly both efforts ended in failure rather than success."
This revelation drew appreciative laughter from the crowd, mixed with a few winces of sympathetic embarrassment. Several students exchanged knowing glances, clearly recognizing that they had been considering similar approaches to the age restriction problem.
At the same time, Adrian keenly noticed that Fred and George were hiding behind a pillar, furtively studying something—clearly, they had heard Dumbledore's words.
"Do you think Fawcett and Summers used Aging Potion?" Fred whispered worriedly to his brother.
"Don't know," George replied, swallowing hard before continuing with grim determination. "But there's no helping it now—we've already consumed the potion. We can't turn back at this point, even if we wanted to."
"Let's go!" Fred said with the air of a man facing execution. Both brothers took deep breaths simultaneously, straightened their backs, and emerged from behind the pillar.
"Make way, make way," the twins called out with false boldness as they began pushing through the crowd toward the golden lines.
As the two approached Dumbledore's magical barrier, the entire entrance hall fell into expectant silence.
Not far away, Ron noticed his older brothers' movement toward the Goblet and muttered quietly to Harry and Hermione, "This should be interesting. Their birthday isn't until April—they should still be several months short of the age requirement."
Adrian crossed his arms with interest.
'These two fellows wouldn't give up even with Dumbledore's warning, would they?'
"Three, two, one!" Fred counted down in a low voice.
Both brothers lifted their legs in perfect synchronization and stepped boldly across the nearest golden line.
Instantly, a brilliant golden light flashed, accompanied by a sharp "crack" like a whip snapping.
Fred and George were violently flung back by an invisible force, sailing high through the air.
Dumbledore seemed to have anticipated this and calmly waved his hand, sending a gentle light to cushion the twins and let them land smoothly.
However, when they landed, their appearance had completely changed—thick white beards hung from their chins to their chests, and their hair had also turned snow-white.
The hall erupted in roaring laughter. The twins looked at each other and immediately understood what had happened.
"Well," George said philosophically, reaching up to stroke his newly lengthened beard with apparent fascination, "I certainly didn't expect this particular outcome."
Fred, never one to let embarrassment dampen his spirits for long, called out cheerfully to the crowd, "Hey, does anyone have a mirror? I'd quite like to see what I look like as a distinguished elderly gentleman!"
"You both look exactly the same," someone replied from the crowd, which prompted another wave of laughter.
"I did attempt to warn you, gentlemen," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling with amusement at the spectacle in front of him.
"Please report to Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing—she's become quite experienced with this particular type of magical mishap over the past day or so. We did anticipate that such attempts might be made, and she has the appropriate treatments readily available."
Fred and George began making their way toward the hospital wing, supporting each other with exaggerated care as they navigated through the crowd of amused onlookers.
Their shuffling gait like of an old man's and flowing beards created a comical picture that would be talked about for weeks to come.
"Does anyone else care to try their luck?" Dumbledore inquired, his gaze slowly sweeping across the faces of the gathered students with obvious curiosity about who might be bold enough to attempt their own solution.
The entrance hall fell into dead silence once again, but this time the quiet carried a different quality.
Where before there had been eager anticipation, now there was cautious consideration as students weighed their own preparations against the spectacular failure they had just witnessed.
Everyone seemed to be instinctively shrinking back from the headmaster's attention, as if direct eye contact might somehow volunteer them for the next demonstration of the Age Line's effectiveness.
"Caution is indeed a valuable quality," Dumbledore observed with another gentle wink at the crowd. "But don't let today's events discourage you completely. You still have plenty of time to refine your approaches and make your attempts. After all, where would magical progress be without a little creative rule-bending?"
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