chapter six
The Great Hall was buzzing with energy. Students from all houses gathered around the Goblet of Fire, whispering excitedly as they watched their peers step forward, parchment in hand, and place their names into the enchanted flame. The golden light from the goblet flickered across the room, casting shadows that danced along the high ceilings and stone walls. It was a rare moment where the entire school felt united by the same anticipation, the same shared excitement and curiosity.
Elizabeth Greye sat with her siblings on a bench, leaning forward as she watched another brave student step up to the goblet, their expression a mix of determination and nerves. Carter, always the more animated of the three, bounced slightly in his seat, his eyes darting from the goblet to the faces around them.
"Do you think any of them stand a chance?" Carter asked, his voice tinged with both skepticism and awe. "I mean, it's the Triwizard Tournament. It's supposed to be nearly impossible."
Madelynn, sitting on Elizabeth's other side, crossed her arms and watched the scene unfold with a calm, assessing gaze. "It's not just about standing a chance, Carter," she said. "It's about wanting to prove something. That's why they do it."
Elizabeth nodded absently, her attention focused on the goblet as it flared briefly, accepting another name. She could feel the energy in the room thrumming under her skin, the weight of the competition settling over them all. The tournament was all anyone could talk about, and the excitement was infectious, even for those who had no intention of putting their names forward.
Suddenly, the grand doors of the Great Hall creaked open, and a gust of cold, damp air swept in, making several students shiver. Elizabeth's eyes darted toward the entrance, and her breath caught when she saw him—Cedric Diggory. His usually neat hair was wet and tousled, droplets of rain sliding down his cheeks and soaking into his robes. He looked like he'd just come in from the storm, but the determined look in his eyes told her exactly why he was there.
Cedric paused at the entrance, his gaze scanning the room before landing on Elizabeth. For a moment, time seemed to slow. The noise of the Great Hall faded into the background, and all she could see was him—his intense gaze, the way his chest rose and fell with steady breaths, the water glistening on his skin. There was something unspoken in the way he looked at her, a silent acknowledgment that made her heart thud harder in her chest.
He gave her a small, almost imperceptible nod before turning and striding toward the goblet. Elizabeth felt a rush of warmth spread through her, mingling with the anxiety and excitement that had already been simmering. She watched as Cedric approached the goblet, the golden light catching on the rain that clung to him, making him seem almost otherworldly.
"He's doing it," Carter whispered, nudging Elizabeth with his elbow, his tone laced with a mix of admiration and disbelief. "Cedric's actually going for it."
Elizabeth didn't respond, too focused on Cedric as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a folded piece of parchment. He stood before the Goblet of Fire, the light of the flames dancing in his eyes, and with a steady hand, he placed his name inside. The goblet flared, a brilliant surge of blue and gold flame, before settling back down.
Cedric turned away from the goblet and made his way back through the hall, his eyes lingering on Elizabeth for just a moment longer before he was swallowed by the crowd.
Suddenly, a familiar, mischievous energy filled the room as the Weasley twins burst through the crowd.
In their hands were twin vials of a gooey green potion that seemed to shimmer ominously in the light. The group of onlookers parted slightly as Fred and George made their way toward the Goblet, their exaggerated swagger drawing the attention of everyone nearby.
Fred held up his vial triumphantly. "Ladies and gentlemen," he announced with mock seriousness, "today, you witness history. The Weasley twins—undeniable legends of Hogwarts—will now become Hogwarts' youngest Triwizard Champions!"
George held up his own vial, smirking. "And how, you ask? With this—our very own Ageing Potion."
A wave of murmurs and laughter rippled through the crowd, but one voice rang out, cutting through the noise.
"It's not going to work."
Everyone turned to see Madelynn Greye standing a few paces away, her arms crossed, a single eyebrow raised in skepticism. She looked every bit the composed Slytherin prefect, her expression a mix of amusement and annoyance.
George turned toward her, smirk still firmly in place. "Yeah? And why's that, Maddie?"
Madelynn's lips twitched in a faint smile, but her tone was sharp and confident. "Because a genius like Dumbledore couldn't possibly be fooled by a dodge as pathetically dim-witted as an Ageing Potion."
Fred's grin widened as he waved his vial. "That's what makes it so brilliant! It's pathetically dim-witted."
Madelynn shrugged, her eyes gleaming with challenge. "Go on, then."
The twins exchanged a glance, their smiles growing as they turned back to the crowd. George held his vial up, nodding to his brother. "Ready, Fred?"
Fred mirrored the action. "Ready, George."
With matching flourishes, they tilted the vials back and swallowed the green liquid in unison, grimacing slightly at the taste. Then, with great drama, they linked arms and stepped toward the Goblet, crossing the golden line that encircled it.
For a moment, everything seemed still. The twins reached the goblet, their grins triumphant as they dramatically dropped their folded pieces of parchment into the flames. The crowd held its breath, waiting to see what would happen.
Fred and George turned back to the onlookers, raising their arms in victory. "See? Easy as—"
Before Fred could finish his sentence, the goblet's flames flared violently, and the twins were ejected high into the air, as if an invisible force had launched them backward. They soared out of the circle and landed flat on their backs with loud thuds, groaning dramatically as the crowd erupted into laughter.
"Blimey, George," Fred muttered, rubbing the back of his head as he sat up. "What went wrong?"
George groaned, sitting up beside him. "I don't know, Fred. You're the one who brewed it."
As the crowd continued to laugh, gasping for breath, something strange began to happen. Little white beards began to sprout on both Fred and George's chins, growing rapidly until their faces were nearly covered.
Fred stared at his brother, wide-eyed. "George, mate. You've... you've gone gray!"
George pointed at him in disbelief. "So have you!"
The crowd howled even louder as the twins scrambled to their feet, inspecting their new beards with exaggerated horror. Madelynn smirked from the sidelines, her arms still crossed. "I told you it wouldn't work," she said, her tone dry but laced with amusement.
Fred pointed an accusing finger at her. "Alright, Maddie, no need to rub it in. It was a valiant attempt!"
"Valiant, but utterly ridiculous," she replied, shaking her head as the twins began bickering over whose fault it was.
"You brewed it!" George exclaimed, pointing at Fred.
"Well, you said it was a foolproof plan!" Fred shot back.
The twins bickered their way out of the circle, still scratching at their newly sprouted beards, while the rest of the students continued to laugh. The energy in the hall was infectious, and for a moment, everything was lighthearted chaos.
But then, just as the laughter was beginning to settle, the mood shifted.
The sound of footsteps echoed through the Great Hall, and the crowd turned as one. The laughter stopped abruptly, replaced by a hushed silence as Viktor Krum strode in. His imposing figure cut through the crowd like a knife, his expression serious and focused. He held a folded piece of parchment in his hand, his movements deliberate as he approached the Goblet of Fire.
All eyes were on him as he crossed the golden line with ease. The goblet flared briefly as he dropped his name inside, and the room seemed to hold its collective breath. Viktor turned, his dark eyes scanning the crowd, and for a brief moment, his gaze met Hermione's.
She froze, her book forgotten in her hands, as his intense gaze lingered on her for just a moment longer than necessary. Then, with the same quiet intensity, he lowered his head and slouched away, disappearing into the crowd.
The hall remained silent, the weight of the moment hanging heavy in the air. Hermione blinked, her cheeks slightly flushed, and turned back to her book, though it was clear her mind was far from the words on the page.
Madelynn watched the scene unfold, her sharp eyes flicking between Viktor and Hermione. She smirked slightly, leaning closer to Elizabeth, who had joined the growing crowd of onlookers. "Well," Madelynn murmured, "this year is shaping up to be... interesting."
The quiet of the library was a welcome contrast to the lively energy of the Great Hall. Shelves towered around the tables, filled with dusty tomes and ancient potions books, and the soft glow of the lanterns cast a warm light over the room. Madelynn sat at a table near the back, her potions textbook open in front of her, her quill poised over her parchment as she worked through the intricacies of a particularly complicated brewing technique.
George Weasley sat across from her, his own potions book spread out, though he seemed to be more absorbed in scratching his head and muttering about the homework than actually writing anything down. His hair, which still held faint streaks of silver from his earlier failed attempt at the age line, caught Madelynn's attention, and she couldn't help the smirk that tugged at her lips.
"I still see a bit of gray there, George," she said, barely containing her laughter as she pointed at the streaks. "Looks like Dumbledore's age line did more of a number on you than you thought."
George gave her an exaggeratedly offended look, crossing his arms. "Oh, please, Maddie. I think it makes me look distinguished. Adds a certain... gravitas, don't you think?"
She chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Yes, very dignified. Though you might want to be careful, or someone might mistake you for a professor."
George laughed softly, scratching the silver-streaked locks with a shrug. "Fred would have a field day with that one, if he ever decides to actually show up. Thought he was supposed to join us for this lovely study session."
Madelynn glanced around the library, raising an eyebrow. "He probably got distracted by some other scheme or snack from the kitchen. You know how he is."
"Too well," George replied, shaking his head with a grin. "Can't ever keep that one on task." He glanced down at his parchment, sighing dramatically as he stared at his unfinished notes. "Anyway, back to this... disaster of an assignment. I swear, Snape's making these harder every week."
Madelynn nodded, her focus returning to her own parchment as she worked through the next step in the potions sequence. They fell into a comfortable silence, the only sounds being the scratch of quills on parchment and the occasional rustle of a page being turned. The quiet between them wasn't strained or awkward; it was the kind of silence that spoke to a mutual understanding. George's presence was like that—a steady, familiar warmth that didn't demand anything, just allowed them both to be themselves.
Madelynn glanced up occasionally, catching George's concentrated expression as he scribbled down notes, his brow furrowed in thought. It was amusing, seeing this usually carefree troublemaker so focused on something as mundane as potions homework. The faint silver streaks in his hair added to the effect, making him look a little older, a little more serious than he usually did.
"Got it!" George said suddenly, his voice a low whisper but laced with triumph as he jotted down a final note. He looked up at her with a grin, holding up his parchment like a trophy. "Finally finished that ridiculous part about the properties of crushed beetle eyes."
Madelynn smiled, giving him a small clap of approval. "Well done. You might actually survive Snape's class this week."
He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head with a dramatic sigh of relief. "Barely, thanks to you. I think I'd still be lost somewhere in step three without your notes."
She shrugged, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Glad to be of service. Can't have you failing out of Potions. Who would I study with then?"
George looked at her, his eyes twinkling with that familiar spark of mischief. "Oh, I'd still find a way to drag you down here. Maybe I'd just have to tutor you in something else. Charm-breaking, maybe? Or how to slip past Filch?"
Madelynn chuckled, leaning forward on her elbows. "Oh, I think I'd manage just fine without you in that department, Weasley."
"Doubtful," he said with a grin, but his tone was light, and there was a warmth behind his words that she couldn't ignore. He reached up to rub the back of his neck, glancing down at his notes, almost as if he were avoiding her gaze.
They returned to their work, each lost in their own thoughts as they finished up the last of their assignments.
The Great Hall was bathed in a soft, golden glow from the torches lining its walls, though the atmosphere was heavy with anticipation. Every student sat at the edge of their seats, eyes fixed on the Goblet of Fire that stood in its place of honor at the front of the hall. The blue-white flames flickered serenely, as if unaware of the tension crackling through the air.
At the Hufflepuff table, Elizabeth Greye leaned forward, her heart pounding. Cedric sat a few seats down from her, his usual calm demeanor unshaken, though Elizabeth couldn't help but notice the slight way he tapped his fingers against the edge of the table. She hoped with everything in her that his name would be called.
At the Slytherin table, Madelynn Greye sat with her housemates and the Durmstrang students, her posture perfectly composed as she observed the Goblet with quiet curiosity. Viktor Krum was just a few seats away, his stoic face betraying nothing, though she could see the sharp focus in his dark eyes.
Carter, seated with the Gryffindors, fidgeted restlessly beside Ron Weasley. His youthful excitement was hard to contain, and he whispered animatedly with his tablemates as the hall grew quieter.
Dumbledore rose from his seat at the High Table, his presence commanding the room's attention. With a sweeping motion of his wand, the torches lining the hall flickered, guttered, and died, plunging the hall into near darkness. The only light came from the Goblet of Fire, its blue-white flames casting eerie shadows across the eager faces of the students. A hush fell over the hall, the kind of silence that seemed to hold its breath.
The flames crackled, shifting suddenly to a bright red. A collective intake of breath swept through the room as a charred bit of parchment fluttered out of the goblet. Dumbledore plucked it from the air with graceful precision, holding it up as he read the name written on it.
"The champion for Durmstrang is..." Dumbledore's voice rang out, clear and steady. "...Viktor Krum."
The Slytherin table erupted into applause, joined by the Durmstrang students who rose to their feet, cheering enthusiastically. Viktor stood, his expression unchanged, though there was a faint flicker of pride in his eyes as he strode confidently toward the front of the hall and disappeared into the adjoining chamber.
At the Slytherin table, Madelynn clapped politely, a small smile playing at her lips. She admired Viktor's composure and knew he was the kind of champion Durmstrang could be proud of. Still, her sharp eyes flicked back to the goblet, eager to see who would be called next.
The hall quieted again, the air thick with expectation. The flames turned red once more, and another piece of parchment floated out. Dumbledore caught it, his eyes scanning the name.
"The champion for Beauxbatons is... Fleur Delacour."
A soft murmur rippled through the hall as Fleur rose gracefully from the Ravenclaw table, her movements almost otherworldly. The Beauxbatons students clapped enthusiastically, their pride evident as Fleur made her way to the front of the hall, her head held high.
Elizabeth, watching from the Hufflepuff table, leaned over to whisper to one of her friends. "She looks like she belongs on a stage, not in a tournament."
Her friend nodded, wide-eyed. "She's incredible."
Madelynn, at the Slytherin table, observed Fleur with a calculating gaze. "She'll draw attention, no doubt," she murmured to Draco, who sat beside her. "But the question is, can she back it up?"
Draco smirked. "She doesn't look like the type to break a nail, let alone survive a dragon."
Madelynn gave him a pointed look. "Don't underestimate anyone, Draco. It's the quickest way to lose."
The flames of the goblet turned red again, and the chatter in the hall ceased instantly. Another parchment floated free, and Dumbledore caught it.
"And lastly, the Hogwarts champion..." Dumbledore's voice paused for effect. "...Cedric Diggory."
The Hufflepuff table erupted in cheers and applause, their pride palpable as Cedric stood, his face breaking into a smile. He looked momentarily toward his table, and Elizabeth felt her breath catch as his eyes met hers for the briefest of moments. She clapped harder than anyone else, her heart swelling with pride and excitement for her housemate and friend.
Carter cheered loudly from the Gryffindor table, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Go on, Cedric!"
Madelynn clapped as well, a rare smile on her lips as she watched Cedric walk to the front of the hall. She'd always respected Cedric for his integrity and talent, even if he wasn't in Slytherin.
Dumbledore's voice boomed again. "Excellent! We now have our three champions. I'm sure I can count upon all of you to give your full support to each and every—"
A sudden gasp cut through the hall, silencing Dumbledore mid-sentence. All eyes turned back to the goblet, which had begun to crackle and burn brighter than before. The flames turned red again, and a fourth shred of parchment floated upward.
A hush descended as Dumbledore's eyes followed the parchment, his expression turning cautious, suspicious. For a moment, he simply let it float in the air, his face unreadable. Then, with deliberate care, he plucked it out of the air and unfolded it.
He paused for a fraction of a second, then spoke the name aloud, his voice sharp and precise.
"Harry Potter."
The silence was deafening, the air charged with disbelief. Slowly, as if compelled by some unseen force, every head in the Great Hall turned toward the Gryffindor table. Toward Harry.
Carter's jaw dropped, his wide eyes darting to Harry, who sat frozen, his face pale and confused. Elizabeth turned in her seat, her heart racing as she tried to process what she'd just heard. Madelynn's sharp gaze locked onto Harry from across the hall, her brow furrowing as she leaned slightly forward.
Harry looked around, bewildered, as if hoping someone would tell him it was a mistake. The hall remained silent, the weight of the moment pressing down on everyone.
And then, slowly, Harry stood, the scrape of his chair against the stone floor echoing loudly in the stillness. He made his way toward the front of the hall, his steps hesitant, his face a mix of confusion and fear.
Elizabeth's hand gripped the edge of the table, her thoughts racing. What's going on? How is this possible?
Madelynn's gaze followed Harry as he disappeared into the adjoining chamber, her mind already working to piece together the implications of what had just happened.
The hall remained in stunned silence, the reality of the situation sinking in. The Triwizard Tournament, already dangerous and unpredictable, had just taken an even darker, more mysterious turn.