The presence of the Goblet of Fire in the Entrance Hall transformed the atmosphere of the castle. It sat on a stool in the center of the hall, a simple, age-blackened wooden cup, filled with dancing blue-white flames. A thin, golden line had been traced on the floor around it—Dumbledore's Age Line, a barrier to prevent any underage student from succumbing to the temptation of eternal glory.
The next two days were a spectacle of ambition and bravado. Students from all three schools, all seventeen or older, approached the Goblet with a mixture of swagger and nervous reverence. Cedric Diggory, handsome and popular, was the first from Hogwarts to cross the line, dropping his name into the flames to a great roar of approval from the Hufflepuffs. Angelina Johnson and a few other older Gryffindors followed suit. The Durmstrang students marched up with grim determination, each one placing their name in the Goblet under Karkaroff's watchful eye. The Beauxbatons students were more elegant, approaching with a graceful poise.
The younger students watched with a mixture of envy and excitement.
"I'd do it if I could," Ron said wistfully, watching a brawny Durmstrang champion add his name.
"Imagine it! Eternal glory!"
"It's incredibly dangerous, Ronald," Hermione chided, though her eyes were also fixed on the dancing flames with fascination.
They both looked at Ariana, who was observing the proceedings with a detached, analytical calm.
"What about you, Ari?" Harry asked. "If you were old enough, would you enter?"
The question seemed to catch the attention of several nearby students, who leaned in to hear her answer. The idea of the powerful, brilliant Ariana Dumbledore competing was a thrilling one.
She turned her gaze from the Goblet to Harry, her expression perfectly placid. "No," she said simply.
"Why not?" Ron asked, baffled. "You'd probably win! You'd figure out all the tasks in about five minutes!"
"The premise of the tournament is illogical," Ariana explained, as if stating a simple, self-evident fact. "It pits champions against deliberately engineered, high-risk scenarios for the purpose of public entertainment. The potential rewards—a thousand Galleons and 'eternal glory'—are intangible and fleeting. The potential cost is severe injury or death. A cost-benefit analysis renders participation an inefficient and unnecessary risk."
Her cold, logical dismissal of the entire event left her friends speechless. For her, the Triwizard Tournament wasn't an adventure or a challenge; it was just a bad equation.
Her own focus was on a far more elegant piece of magical engineering. Later that day, in the privacy of the Room of Requirement, she unveiled the fruits of their recent labour. She laid two objects on a velvet cloth on the workbench.
They were two identical bracelets. Each was a simple, elegant band of enchanted silver, polished to a mirror shine. Set in the center of each band was a perfectly cut, round Sunstone. The stones seemed to glow with a soft, internal warmth, their shimmering, golden-orange depths catching the light.
"They're beautiful," Daphne breathed, her eye for fine jewelry immediately appreciating the craftsmanship.
"The aesthetics are secondary to the function," Ariana said, though she was pleased with the result. She picked one up for them to inspect. "The silver is etched on the interior with Hermione's containment runes. The Sunstone itself has two arrays carved into its crystalline matrix, one on top of the other."
She projected a magnified, magical image of the stone's interior. "The base layer is the Sowilo-Laguz-Algiz matrix, the dispersal array, which will constantly release a low-level field of pure solar magic. But the second layer is the key to making it self-sustaining." She pointed to a second, more complex set of runes shimmering above the first. "This is a passive energy-siphoning array. It is designed to draw ambient magical energy from the surrounding environment—the magic in the air, in the stones of Hogwarts, even the latent magic from other people—and slowly, continuously, use that energy to recharge the Lumos Solem enchantment sealed within the stone."
Hermione gasped, her mind racing through the implications. "It's a perpetual motion machine," she whispered in awe. "A self-recharging magical battery."
"In essence," Ariana confirmed. "The energy draw is minimal, so it's undetectable and won't drain the environment. But it is constant. In theory, once activated, these bracelets will never lose their charge. They will provide a constant, low-level suppressive field against the lycanthropy virus."
She looked at the two bracelets, her expression one of quiet satisfaction. "The final test, of course, will have to wait until the next full moon. We will need to observe Professor Lupin's reaction while wearing one. But the theoretical model is sound."
The night of Halloween arrived, the night the champions would be chosen. The Great Hall was filled with a palpable, electric tension. After the feast, Dumbledore stood and, with a wave of his wand, dimmed the lights. All eyes were on the Goblet of Fire.
The blue flames suddenly turned red. A tongue of fire shot into the air, spitting out a single, charred piece of parchment. Dumbledore caught it.
"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, his voice booming through the silent hall, "is Viktor Krum!" A great roar went up from the Slytherin table.
The Goblet flared again. "The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!" The beautiful, partVeela girl from the Ravenclaw table stood and glided gracefully towards the front.
And again. "The Hogwarts champion," Dumbledore announced, a proud smile on his face, "is Cedric Diggory!" The Hufflepuff table exploded in a pandemonium of cheers and applause, Cedric looking both thrilled and overwhelmed.
"Excellent!" Dumbledore beamed. "We now have our three champions! But in the end, only one will go down in history…"
He was cut off. The Goblet of Fire, which should have been extinguished, suddenly flared to life again, its flames a violent, angry red. With a powerful surge, it spat out a fourth piece of parchment.
A stunned silence fell over the entire hall. Dumbledore seized the parchment, his face a mask of disbelief and dawning horror. He stared at the name written on it for a long, terrible moment.
Then, he read it aloud, his voice a strained whisper that nonetheless carried to every corner of the room.
"Harry Potter."
A thousand pairs of eyes turned to stare at Harry, who sat frozen in his seat, a look of pure, sickly shock on his face.
Ariana felt no surprise. Only a quiet, cold confirmation. She had known this was coming. The imposter may have been removed, but the plan he had set in motion was not his own. It was Voldemort's. And the magic used to fool the Goblet of Fire, a powerful, ancient artifact, had been cast long before Barty Crouch Jr. had ever stepped foot in the castle. It was an automatic, magical contingency.
As the hall erupted into a chaotic storm of accusations, whispers, and booing, Ariana simply watched. The Triwizard Tournament, as she had known all along, was never meant to be a competition of three. It was a trap. And the bait had just been taken. The game had been forced, and Harry was now its unwilling, central player. Her job, she knew, had just become infinitely more complicated.