Y/n sat there, aware that every head in the Great Hall had turned to look at both him and Harry. This couldn't be right...both their names had been pulled out of the goblet? How had this happened? Why were their names in the goblet to begin with?
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 Y/n and Harry as both boys sat, frozen, in their seats.
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 and Y/n, open mouthed.
"I didn't put my name in." Harry said blankly. "You know I didn't. "
Both of them stared just as blankly back.
At the top table, Professor Dumbledore had straightened up, nodding to Professor McGonagall.
"Harry Potter and Y/n Grindelwald!" he called again. "Harry! Y/n! Up here, if you please!"
"Go on." Hermione whispered to them both, giving Y/n a slight push onto his feet.
Harry got to his feet as well now but trod on the hem of his robes, and stumbled slightly.
Y/n and Harry looked at each other both as confused as the other before they set off up the gap between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. It felt like an immensely long walk, the top table didn't seem to be getting any nearer at all.
Y/n could feel hundreds and hundreds of eyes upon him and Harry, as though each were a searchlight. The buzzing grew louder and louder. After what seemed like an hour, they were right in front of Dumbledore, feeling the stares of all the teachers.
"Well... through the door." said Dumbledore. He wasn't smiling.
Y/n and Harry moved off along the teachers' table. Hagrid was seated right at the end. He did not wink or wave, or give any of his usual signs of greeting. He looked completely astonished and stared at Harry and Y/n as they passed like everyone else.
Y/n went through the door out of the Great Hall first and found himself in a smaller room, lined with paintings of witches and wizards. A handsome fire was roaring in the fireplace opposite him.
"Harry..." Y/n spoke for the first time since their names had been drawn. "Did you enter your name?"
"No." Harry quickly shook his head. "You?"
"I already told you I wanted no part in this..." Y/n said still shocked but slightly angry now. "So why the hell are our names in that Goblet!?"
The faces in the portraits turned to look at them as they entered the room properly now. Y/n saw a wizened witch flit out of the frame of her picture and into the one next to it, which contained a wizard with a walrus mustache. The wizened witch started whispering in his ear.
Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory, and Fleur Delacour were grouped around the fire. They looked strangely impressive, silhouetted against the flames. Krum, hunched-up and brooding, was leaning against the mantelpiece, slightly apart from the other two. Cedric was standing with his hands behind his back, staring into the fire. Fleur Delacour looked around when Y/n and Harry walked in and threw back her sheet of long, silvery hair.
"What is it?" she said. "Do zey want us back in ze Hall?" She thought they had come to deliver a message.
Harry didn't know how to explain what had just happened. He just stood there, looking at the three champions. It struck him how very tall all of them were.
Y/n opened his mouth to speak but there was a sound of scurrying feet behind him that stopped him, Ludo Bagman had entered the room. He took Harry and Y/n by their arms and led them forward.
"Extraordinary!" he muttered, squeezing each one's arm. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen...lady." he added, approaching the fireside and addressing the other three. "May I introduce...incredible though it may seem...the Fourth and Fifth Triwizard champion?"
Viktor Krum straightened up. His surly face darkened as he surveyed Y/n properly now.
Cedric looked nonplussed. He looked from Bagman to Harry and back again as though sure he must have misheard what Bagman had said.
Fleur Delacour however, tossed her hair smiling and said. "Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman."
"Joke?" Bagman repeated, bewildered. "No, no, not at all! Y/n and Harry's names just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"
Krum's thick eyebrows contracted slightly.
Cedric was still looking politely bewildered.
Fleur frowned. "But evidently zair 'as been a mistake." she said contemptuously to Bagman. "'Zey cannot compete. 'Zey is too young."
"Well... it is amazing." said Bagman, rubbing his smooth chin and smiling down at Y/n and Harry. "But, as you know, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as their names come out of the goblet...I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage...It's down in the rules, you're obliged... Harry and Y/n will just have to do the best they..."
The door behind them opened again, and a large group of people came in. Professor Dumbledore, followed closely by Mr. Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape. Y/n heard the buzzing of the hundreds of students on the other side of the wall, before Professor McGonagall closed the door.
"Madame Maxime!" said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. "Zey are saying zat zee's little boys are to compete also!"
While Y/n knew he was younger than Fleur he did not appreciate being called a little boy.
Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full, and considerable, height. The top of her handsome head brushed the candle-filled chandelier, and her gigantic black-satin bosom swelled.
"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" she said imperiously.
"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore." said Professor Karkaroff. He was wearing a steely smile, and his blue eyes were like chips of ice. "Three Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed three champions... or have I not read the rules carefully enough?" He gave a short and nasty laugh.
"C'est impossible." said Madame Maxime, whose enormous hand with its many superb opals was resting upon Fleur's shoulder. "'Ogwarts cannot 'ave three champions. It is most injust."
"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore." said Karkaroff, his steely smile still in place, though his eyes were colder than ever. "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."
"It's no one's fault but Potter and Grindelwald's, Karkaroff." said Snape softly. His black eyes were alight with malice. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for their determination to break rules. Potter in particular has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here..."
"Thank you, Severus." said Dumbledore firmly, and Snape went quiet, though his eyes still glinted malevolently through his curtain of greasy black hair.
Professor Dumbledore was now looking down at Harry and Y/n.
Y/n looked right back at him, trying to discern the expression of the eyes behind the half-moon spectacles.
"Harry, Y/n. Did you put your names into the Goblet of Fire?" he asked calmly.
"No." said Harry. He was very aware of everybody watching him closely.
"I did not sir." Y/n answered.
Snape made a soft noise of impatient disbelief in the shadows.
"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" said Professor Dumbledore, ignoring Snape.
"No." said Harry vehemently.
"And you Y/n?" Dumbledore asked.
"No sir." Y/n said.
"Ah, but of course 'zey are lying!" cried Madame Maxime. Snape was now shaking his head, his lip curling.
"They both could not have crossed the Age Line." said Professor McGonagall sharply. "I am sure we are all agreed on that..."
"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line," said Madame Maxime, shrugging.
"It is possible, of course." said Dumbledore politely.
"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" said Professor McGonagall angrily. "Really, what nonsense! Neither Harry or Y/n could not have crossed the line, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that they did not persuade an older student to do it for them, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!"
She shot a very angry look at Professor Snape.
"Mr. Crouch...Mr. Bagman." said Karkaroff, his voice unctuous once more. "You are our...er... objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?"
Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief and looked at Mr. Crouch, who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half hidden in shadow. He looked slightly eerie, the half darkness making him look much older, giving him an almost skull-like appearance. When he spoke, however, it was in his usual curt voice.
"We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."
"And what if we say no?" Y/n spoke up now as everyone in the room turned their heads to look at him. "What happens, if we refuse to take part in the tournament?"
Mr Crouch stared at Y/n now. "Then you will die." He said straightforwardly. "The magical contract cannot be broken until the tournament is ended. Every name drawn from the Goblet must compete."
This did not please Y/n to hear. He had been hoping for a loophole that would free him and Harry could be found.
"Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front." said Bagman, beaming and turning back to Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, as though the matter was now closed.
"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students." said Karkaroff. He had dropped his unctuous tone and his smile now. His face wore a very ugly look indeed. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has three champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore."
"But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that." said Bagman. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out..it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament..."
"...In which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" exploded Karkaroff. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"
"Empty threat, Karkaroff." growled a voice from near the door. "You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"
Moody had just entered the room. He limped toward the fire, and with every right step he took, there was a loud clunk.
"Convenient?" said Karkaroff. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody."
Y/n could tell he was trying to sound disdainful, as though what Moody was saying was barely worth his notice, but his hands gave him away for they had balled themselves into fists.
"Don't you?" said Moody quietly. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Grindelwald and Potter's names in that goblet knowing they'd have to compete if they came out."
"Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give 'Ogwarts three bites at ze apple!" said Madame Maxime.
"I quite agree, Madame Maxime." said Karkaroff, bowing to her. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards..."
"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Grindelwald and Potter." growled Moody, "but...funny thing...I don't hear them saying a word..."
"Why should 'zey complain?" burst out Fleur Delacour, stamping her foot. "'Zey 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'zey? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money, zis is a chance many would die for!"
"Maybe someone's hoping they are going to die for it." said Moody, with the merest trace of a growl.
An extremely tense silence followed these words.
Ludo Bagman, who was looking very anxious indeed, bounced nervously up and down on his feet and said. "Moody, old man...what a thing to say!"
"We all know Professor Moody considers the morning wasted if he hasn't discovered six plots to murder him before lunchtime." said Karkaroff loudly. "Apparently he is now teaching his students to fear assassination too. An odd quality in a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Dumbledore, but no doubt you had your reasons."
"Imagining things, am I?" growled Moody. "Seeing things, eh? It was a skilled witch or wizard who put the boys names in that goblet..."
"Ah, what evidence is zere of zat?" said Madame Maxime, throwing up her huge hands.
"Because they hoodwinked a very powerful magical object!" said Moody. "It would have needed an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to bamboozle that goblet into forgetting that only three schools compete in the tournament...I'm guessing they submitted Potter's name under a fourth school and Grindelwald's under a fifth, to make sure they were the only one in their category..."
"You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Moody." said Karkaroff coldly. "And a very ingenious theory it is... though of course, I heard you recently got it into your head that one of your birthday presents contained a cunningly disguised basilisk egg, and smashed it to pieces before realizing it was a carriage clock. So you'll understand if we don't take you entirely seriously..."
"There are those who'll turn innocent occasions to their advantage." Moody retorted in a menacing voice. "It's my job to think the way Dark wizards do, Karkaroff, as you ought to remember..."
"Alastor!" said Dumbledore warningly.
Y/n wondered for a moment whom he was speaking to, but then realized "Mad-Eye" could hardly be Moody's real first name. Moody fell silent, though still surveying Karkaroff with satisfaction, Karkaroff's face was burning.
"How this situation arose, we do not know." said Dumbledore, speaking to everyone gathered in the room. "It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Y/n and Harry have been chosen to compete in the Tournament. This, therefore, they will do..."
"Ah, but Dumbly-dorr..."
"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, I would be delighted to hear it." Dumbledore waited, but Madame Maxime did not speak, she merely glared. She wasn't the only one either. Snape looked furious, Karkaroff livid.
Bagman, however, looked rather excited. "Well, shall we crack on, then?" he said, rubbing his hands together and smiling around the room. "Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honors?"
Mr. Crouch seemed to come out of a deep reverie. "Yes." he said. "Instructions. Yes...the first task..."
He moved forward into the firelight. Close up, Y/n noticed there were dark shadows beneath his eyes and a thin, papery look about his wrinkled skin that had not been there at the Quidditch World Cup.
"The first task is designed to test your daring." he told Harry, Y/n, Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor. "So we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard...very important...The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges."
"The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests."
Mr. Crouch turned to look at Dumbledore.
"I think that's all, is it, Albus?"
"I think so." said Dumbledore, who was looking at Mr. Crouch with mild concern. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty?"
"No, Dumbledore, I must get back to the Ministry." said Mr. Crouch. "It is a very busy, very difficult time at the moment...I've left young Weatherby in charge...Very enthusiastic...a little overenthusiastic, if truth be told..."
"You'll come and have a drink before you go, at least?" said Dumbledore.
"Come on, Barty, I'm staying!" said Bagman brightly. "It's all happening at Hogwarts now, you know, much more exciting here than at the office!"
"I think not, Ludo." said Crouch with a touch of his old impatience.
"Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime. A nightcap?" said Dumbledore.
But Madame Maxime had already put her arm around Fleur's shoulders and was leading her swiftly out of the room. Y/n and Harry could hear them both talking very fast in French as they went off into the Great Hall. Karkaroff beckoned to Krum, and they, too, exited, though in silence.
"Harry, Y/n, Cedric, I suggest you go up to bed." said Dumbledore, smiling at the three of them. "I am sure Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise."
Harry glanced at Y/n, who nodded, and the three left together.
The Great Hall was deserted now, the candles had burned low, giving the jagged smiles of the pumpkins an eerie, flickering quality.
"So." said Cedric, with a slight smile. "We're all playing against each other again!"
"I s'pose," said Harry quietly.
"Unfortunately..." Y/n said to be polite. But secretly he was still angry and concerned. Angry that he was being forced to go through the tournament. Concerned however by Moody's words and the possibility of them being true. Did someone really intend for him to die during this tournament and if so, Who were they and why did they want him dead?
"So..." Cedric began taking Y/n out of his thoughts as they reached the entrance hall, which was now lit only by torches in the absence of the Goblet of Fire. "How did you both get your name in?"
"We didn't." said Harry, staring up at him. "Neither of us put it in. Y/n and I were telling the truth."
"Ah... okay." said Cedric. But Y/n could tell Cedric didn't believe them. "Well...see you, then. "
Instead of going up the marble staircase, Cedric headed for a door to its right. Harry and Y/n stood listening to him going down the stone steps beyond it, then, slowly, they started to climb the marble ones.
"Do you think anyone is going to believe us?" Harry asked Y/n.
"I do not know Harry..." Y/n said truthfully.
The more Y/n thought, the more bleak the situation became. He was facing competitors who'd had three years' more magical education than he had. Yes he was learning more advanced magic than others his age but would that be enough? To make matters worse the tasks were to be performed in front of hundreds of people limiting his options. His Animagus form couldn't be used for it would be revealed openly then.
The two soon found themselves facing the Fat Lady already. It was a surprise however to see that she was not alone in her frame. The wizened witch who had flitted into her neighbor's painting when he had joined the champions downstairs was now sitting smugly beside the Fat Lady. She must have dashed through every picture lining seven staircases to reach here before them. Both she and the Fat Lady were looking down at Y/n and Harry with the keenest interest.
"Well, well, well." said the Fat Lady, "Violet's just told me everything. Who's just been chosen as school champions, 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 Harry and Y/n into the common room.
The blast of noise that met Y/n and Harry's ears when the portrait opened almost knocked the two backward. Next thing they knew, both were being wrenched inside the common room by about a dozen pairs of hands, and both were now stood 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 with the pair.
"How did you do it without getting a beard? Brilliant!" roared George.
"We didn't." Harry said. "I don't know how..."
But Angelina had now swooped down upon him and Y/n put her arms around their shoulders. "Oh if it couldn't be me, at least it's a Gryffindor! Two in fact!"
"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, Y/n and Harry, come and have some..."
"I apologize but I am not hungry..." Y/n said as he turned his head in an attempt to find both Hermione and Ron but neither of them seemed to be in the common room.
"Yeah... had enough at the feast..." Harry said feeling the same way.
But nobody wanted to hear that they weren't hungry, nobody wanted to hear that they hadn't put their names in the goblet, not one single person seemed to have noticed that neither Harry or Y/n was at all in the mood to celebrate... Lee Jordan had unearthed a Gryffindor banner from somewhere, and he insisted on draping it around the pair like a cloak. Both Y/n and Harry made several attempts to get away but whenever one tried to sidle over to the staircase up to the dormitories, the crowd around them closed ranks, forcing another butterbeer on them, stuffing crisps and peanuts into their hands... Everyone wanted to know how they had done it, how they had tricked Dumbledore's Age Line and managed to get their names into the goblet...
"We did not..." Y/n said, over and over again.
"We don't know how it happened." Harry told them.
But for all the notice anyone took, they might just as well not have answered at all.
After half an hour of insisting that they needed to sleep, and almost flattening the little Creevey brothers as they attempted to waylay Harry at the foot of the stairs, Y/n and Harry managed to shake everyone off and climb up to the dormitory as fast as they could.
"They are like a pack of hungry wolves...all desperate for an answer we do not have." Y/n said running a frustrated hand through his hair.
"No Ron and Hermione though." Harry pointed out. To his great relief though, they found Ron was lying on his bed in the otherwise empty dormitory, still fully dressed. He looked up when Harry slammed the door behind them.
"Where've you been?" Harry said.
"Oh hello." said Ron.
He was grinning, but it was a very odd, strained sort of grin.
Y/n and Harry crossed the room now.
"So." Ron said, when Y/n and Harry had finally reached their beds. "Congratulations."
"What d'you mean, congratulations?" said Harry, staring at Ron.
There was definitely something wrong with the way Ron was smiling, It was more like a grimace.
"Well... no one else got across the Age Line." said Ron. "Not even Fred and George. What did you two use, the Invisibility Cloak?"
"The Invisibility Cloak would not have gotten us over that line." said Y/n his brow furrowing.
"Oh right." said Ron. "I thought you might've told me if it was the cloak...because it would've covered the three of us, wouldn't it? But you found another way, did you?"
"Listen to me Ronald Weasley." Y/n addressed him getting fed up now. "Both I and Harry did not put our names in that goblet..."
"Someone else must've done it." Harry added
Ron raised his eyebrows. "What would they do that for?"
"I dunno." said Harry. He felt it would sound very melodramatic to say. 'To kill us.'
Ron's eyebrows rose so high that they were in danger of disappearing into his hair. "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 both 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 both enter. A thousand Galleons prize money, eh? And you don't have to do end-of-year tests either... "
"We didn't put our names in that goblet!" said Harry, starting to feel angry himself now.
"Yeah, okay." said Ron, in exactly the same sceptical tone as Cedric. "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.
"Yeah?" said Ron, and there was no trace of a grin, forced or otherwise, on his face now. "You two want to get to bed. I expect you'll need to be up early tomorrow for a photo-call or something." He wrenched the hangings shut around his four-poster, leaving Y/n and Harry standing there by the door, staring at the dark red velvet curtains, now hiding one of the few people they had been sure would believe them.