Tragedy avoided

Harri went back into the main room after her talk with Cedric, cherry red. She was sure her blush could be seen from a mile away. They had talked for a while after the kisses they had shared. Harri couldn’t give him an answer and she knew that had hurt him but she was glad he had agreed to staying friends despite what may or may not happen. He had admitted he still would like time to think about everything, and she was more than willing to give it to him. She had her own worries to think about now too and the space would help her. She was going to have to figure out how she felt about him, and if more was something she even wanted. She still couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact he fancied her in the first place. 

Guilt raced through Harri as she caught Fred’s eye on her way to her seat between Hermione and Ron. She had completely forgotten about Fred and his own feelings for her after she had kissed Cedric. Was she supposed to tell Fred? Was this going to hurt him? Had she messed up? What did she do here? She had never been in a situation like this one. 

Harri was thankful Hannah Abbot began to read when she reached her seat. She now had an excuse to deal with this all later.

I don't believe it!" Ron said, in a stunned voice, as the Hogwarts students filed back up the steps behind the party from Durmstrang. "Krum, Harry! Viktor Krum!"

Ron flushed and sank in his seat. He wondered if they could get Hermione to turn red too, so they’d all match. He could only guess what Diggory and Harri must have talked about to have her still red faced. He dared to take a glance over at Fred to see how he was handling it. Much to his surprise Fred seemed unbothered. Harri had returned with Diggory blushing like a virgin. Ron personally felt as if this would bother him if it was a girl he fancied. He wouldn’t want his crush anywhere near Diggory for that matter. Diggory had already gotten Hermione on his side in this book with his pretty face and she was the most rational girl he knew. 

"For heaven's sake, Ron, he's only a Quidditch player," said Hermione.

“Just a Quidditch player,” Oliver gasped, as if Hermione had just spoken blasphemy. 

“Well he is,” Hermione huffed back. “There’s no need to fawn all over the boy because he’s famous. Harri’s famous too and you don’t see Ron fawning over her.”

Viktor’s lips twitched as his opinion of Hermione Granger rose. While there were many things he still didn’t enjoy about the brash girl, he did like being treated as if he was just another person.

"Only a Quidditch player?" Ron said, looking at her as though he couldn't believe his ears. "Hermione - he's one of the best Seekers in the world! I had no idea he was still at school!"

While Viktor was pleased to hear he was considered one of the best Seekers in the world he could do without all the fanfare. Being famous made making friends rather difficult. He was sure Harri understood this well. From the sounds of it she stuck with just two. Though it seemed as if she was branching out since being brought to this room. He wondered how trustworthy everyone really was. Fleur seemed alright as far as he was concerned, and Harri was friendly enough but what of the rest?

As they recrossed the entrance hall with the rest of the Hogwarts students heading for the Great Hall, Harri saw Lee Jordan jumping up and down on the soles of his feet to get a better look at the back of Krum's head. Several sixth-year girls were frantically searching their pockets as they walked -

Viktor grimaced. He was sure his classmates would not have appreciated him stealing the lime light.They were also there to try their hand at competing. While Viktor was sure he would be chosen, he still thought they all should have been given the same welcome. His classmates were used to him, which was nice. He didn’t have to deal with them asking for autographs or following him around. He was allowed peace at school. It didn’t sound as if he would be given it at Hogwarts.

The students from Beauxbatons had chosen seats at the Ravenclaw table. They were looking around the Great Hall with glum expressions on their faces. Three of them were still clutching scarves and shawls around their heads.

"It's not that cold," said Hermione defensively. "Why didn't they bring cloaks?"

“Don’t you think that’s a little harsh?” Mrs. Granger frowned at her daughter. “You know that Hogwarts is hidden. How would they know to pack a coat?”

“Sorry,” Hermione mumbled, feeling a little guilty to have her counterpart be so judgmental.

Viktor Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students had settled themselves at the Slytherin table. Harri could see Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle looking very smug about this. As she watched, Malfoy bent forward to speak to Krum.

Viktor scribbled a note to remember to pick a different house to sit with. He wanted no part of Draco Malfoy. Maybe the Gryffindors? He could at the very least speak with Harri there. If he had to suffer he was more than willing to drag her down with him. His classmates would be just as curious about her as hers were about him.

"Yeah, that's right, smarm up to him, Malfoy," said Ron scathingly. "I bet Krum can see right through him, though...bet he gets people fawning over him all the time....Where d'you reckon they're going to sleep? I could offer him a space in my dormitory, Harri ...I wouldn't mind giving him my bed, I could kip on a camp bed."

“Why don’t you just offer him your room at the Burrow while you are at it?” George snickered.

“You can even throw in one of your kidneys,” Fred tacked on.

“Oh, sod off. I haven’t said any of that yet and again I’m allowed to be excited about the prospect of meeting one of my favorite players. I don’t act like that here,” Ron snapped, glaring at the twins as he threw a knut at them. 

Harri snorted next to him. The only reason he hadn’t gone full fanboy here was because she had practically begged him not too.

Up at the staff table, Filch, the caretaker, was adding chairs. He was wearing his moldy old tailcoat in honor of the occasion. Harri was surprised to see that he added four chairs, two on either side of Dumbledore's.

“Four chairs?”

“Why are there four chairs?”

“There’s only two extra people so far. Who else is going to show up?”

When their headmistress appeared, the pupils from Beauxbatons leapt to their feet. A few of the Hogwarts students laughed. The Beauxbatons party appeared quite unembarrassed, however, and did not resume their seats until Madame Maxime had sat down on Dumbledore's left-hand side. 

“It’s only proper to wait until your Headmistress or Master has sat to take your own seats. If they are standing, you should be as well. It’s a sign of respect. What is so amusing about that?” Fleur sniffed, sending a dirty look at the Hogwarts students. “It is not our fault you lack basic respect.”

One of the Beauxbatons girls still clutching a muffler around her head gave what was unmistakably a derisive laugh.

"No one's making you stay!" Hermione whispered, bristling at her.

“This is a big transition for them. You could be nicer,” Mr. Granger scolded gently. “You also have to remember it’s human nature to compare things. You would probably be just as judgemental if you went to another school that did not follow the customs you were used to. You would think Hogwarts was better, no? Take how you speak about Divination because you do not agree with it.”

Hermione sank in her seat, the last of her friends to turn bright red. She hoped that would be the last time her counterpart was so judgemental in this book. She had spent enough of the last book with her parents less than thrilled with her, she really hoped this book would be different.

The plates in front of them filled with food as usual. The house-elves in the kitchen seemed to have pulled out all the stops; there was a greater variety of dishes in front of them than Harri had ever seen, including several that were definitely foreign.

Harri couldn’t wait for the new foods she would get to try. It wasn’t often she got to try new foods. What would foreign desserts be like? If it wasn’t for Hogwarts the list of foods she had eaten would be very short.

"What's that?" said Ron, pointing at a large dish of some sort of shellfish stew that stood beside a large steak-and-kidney pudding.

"Bouillabaisse," said Hermione.

"Bless you," said Ron.

“It’s a fish stew,” Fleur informed the room after she was done giggling. 

“It’s French,” Hermione added, more than glad to see Ron had returned to the same shade of red she currently was after earning her parent’s ire. “It’s lovely, you should try it.”

"Skrewts doing all right, Hagrid?" Harri called.

"Thrivin'," Hagrid called back happily.

"Yeah, I'll just bet they are," said Ron quietly. "Looks like they've finally found a food they like, doesn't it? Hagrid's fingers."

Draco sent Harri a smug look. He knew those beast weren’t safe. 

Harri glared back at Draco unwilling to admit Hagrid might have put them all in danger. She really didn’t like the idea the Skrewts ate flesh but she wasn’t about to admit Draco was right.

Remus rubbed his temples. Unknown creatures that enjoyed flesh and could actually hurt Hagrid. What was the man thinking by allowing the children near them? He would have made a comment, but felt the more he harped on the topic, the harder Harri would dig her heels in. If he really didn’t want to have her near the creatures it was best he kept his mouth shut. He could see Harri agreeing to walk the beast just to spite him. 

It was the girl from Beauxbatons who had laughed during Dumbledore's speech. She had finally removed her muffler. A long sheet of silvery-blonde hair fell almost to her waist. She had large, deep blue eyes, and very white, even teeth.

“There's your obsession with teeth again,” Fred teased from his seat, grinning widely.

“I’m not obsessed with teeth,” Harri grumbled back, crossing her arms. “I just notice things about people and when teeth are too white it bothers me.”

The girl picked up the dish and carried it carefully off to the Ravenclaw table. Ron was still goggling at the girl as though he had never seen one before. Harri started to laugh. The sound seemed to jog Ron back to his senses.

"She's a veela!" he said hoarsely to Harri.

That had to be her, Fleur thought to herself. She was the only  part-Veela old enough to compete. But could Ron just be exaggerating this person's beauty? She certainly wasn’t the only blonde at school.

"I'm telling you, that's not a normal girl!" said Ron, leaning sideways so he could keep a clear view of her. "They don't make them like that at Hogwarts!"

“Hey!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Wanna say that again?”

I haven’t said it at all yet!”

"They make them okay at Hogwarts," said Harri without thinking. Cho happened to be sitting only a few places away from the girl with the silvery hair. Cho was the prettiest girl at Hogwarts by far. It wasn’t just her opinion either, if you were to ask any of the other girls they would tell you the same. Harri had overheard several conversations over others being envious of the Ravenclaw Seeker.

“Thanks,” Cho smiled. It was definitely an ego boost to hear.

“Welcome,” Harri flushed, looking away. She would honestly fight her counterpart if they added to her plate by adding Cho to people she may fancy. She had enough on her plate with just Fred and Cedric.

When the second course arrived they noticed a number of unfamiliar desserts too. Ron examined an odd sort of pale blancmange closely, then moved it carefully a few inches to his right, so that it would be clearly visible from the Ravenclaw table. The girl who looked like a veela appeared to have eaten enough, however, and did not come over to get it.

If that really was her and Ron was trying to impress her, he was the wrong redhead for the job. She had no romantic interest in children. Curse breakers on the other hand…

Fleur might have been inclined to even mention this as a fact if it weren’t for the way Bill snickered next to her. If this was her, then there was nothing wrong with someone trying to gain her attention. They should. 

There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps because of his fame as a Beater, or simply because he looked so much more likable. He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand. Bartemius Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced. Remembering him in his neat suit at the Quidditch World Cup, Harri thought he looked strange in wizard's robes. His toothbrush mustache and severe parting looked very odd next to Dumbledore's long white hair and beard.

Percy had to wonder if that’s how he looked next to the rest of his siblings. Strange. The odd one out. Was he just as stiff and uninviting as Crouch was? Did his siblings see him the same way Harri was seeing Crouch?

At the mention of the word "champions," the attentiveness of the listening students seemed to sharpen. Perhaps Dumbledore had noticed their sudden stillness, for he smiled as he said, "The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."

The students leaned forward eager to know what was in the casket. It was exciting getting to know all this before it even happened. They would be the first to know an entire year’s worth of events.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," said Dumbledore as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways.. their magical prowess - their daring - their powers of deduction - and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."

You could feel the excitement in the room to hear about the task. It sounded as if this event would be talked about for the next several years. They were all going to get to be a part of this, even if they weren’t competing. They would get to say they watched a Tri Wizard Tournament, or were housemates with the Champion.

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."

Hope swelled in Fleur’s chest. The impartial selector would not be a person. It would not be able to see her beauty.

Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.

Fleur wanted to be named champion more than ever now. If she was chosen it would mean it was on her talent alone. She would not have to second guess it being because the judge was charmed by her looks. No one could say she did not earn her place in the tournament.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

Several of the students looked at each other nervously. Dumbledore was getting serious in this chapter. Whoever competed couldn’t back out even if they didn’t want to do a challenge? Though it had been mentioned that past Champions had died, Dumbledore had all but promised the champions safety this time. If anyone could keep everyone alive it would be Dumbledore right? If the risk of dying was  almost non-existent how hard could the task be? But if the chance of death were higher than Dumbledore was willing to admit, this warning would make more sense. Which one was it? Why make competitors compete in the first place? Why take their choice of backing out of a task? Couldn’t that champion just take the loss for that task? Why magically bind them instead of taking a hit to the school's pride?

Harri frowned at the book. She didn’t like the sound of that. If her name was pulled from the Goblet she wouldn’t have a say in competing or not. It all sounded too fishy to her. She couldn’t get the awful feeling she was going to be forced to compete to go away. She knew Dumbledore had made an age line, and the books didn’t show her putting her name in or even plotting with the twins to get around the age line. There should be no reason for her name to ever make it into the Goblet but deep down she knew it would and she knew her name would be called whether she liked it or not.

"An Age Line!" Fred Weasley said, his eyes glinting, as they all made their way across the Hall to the doors into the entrance hall. "Well, that should be fooled by an Aging Potion, shouldn't it? And once your name's in that goblet, you're laughing - it can't tell whether you're seventeen or not!"

“You think so?,” Dumbledore asked amused a twinkle in his old blue eyes. “I look forward to seeing you attempt to get past me.”

“Just remember you said that when we do it.”

"But I don't think anyone under seventeen will stand a chance," said Hermione, "we just haven't learned enough..."

“An excellent point,” Madam Bones praised Hermione’s reasoning before adding, “and exactly why we have changed the rules.” 

“Did people under seventeen really get called that often?” Harri asked, the dread in her stomach growing.

“Do you not think your name would be called above all others if you were allowed to enter?” Madam Bones answered with her own question.

“No,” Harri shook her head thinking the idea was preposterous. “If everything was fair and I was allowed to enter I don’t think my name would be called. I’m well, just me.”

“And you, my young witch, have shown to be selfless,brave, caring, and above all else kind,” Madam Bones pointed out gingerly. “Do you not think those traits would make a good champion? In addition to all the feats you had accomplished?”

“But I didn’t do any of it alone.”

“You were alone when you cast a Patronus at thirteen, and alone again when you threw off an Imperius curse were you not?”

“But anyone can do those things if I could!”

“I assure you, Miss Potter, what you accomplished are massive feats.”

"Speak for yourself," said George shortly. "You'll try and get in, won't you, Harri ?"

“You’re almost 17 you don’t count,” Hermione sniffed, even if she didn’t think the twins could do it but not wanting their attention on her if she said so. 

“Don’t encourage her,” Molly cried, wondering why her children were so ready to throw themselves in harm's way and drag others along with them.

Harri thought briefly of Dumbledore's insistence that nobody under seventeen should submit their name, but then the wonderful picture of herself winning the Triwizard Tournament filled her mind again.... She wondered how angry Dumbledore would be if someone younger than seventeen did find a way to get over the Age Line.

“You seem far more confident in the book about your name being called then you do now,” Viktor voiced, wondering why Harri seemed to put herself down at every chance she got. Where was this confidence now?

“I'm sure it was fun to think about, but I don’t think I know enough to compete against people three years older than I am. If anyone was chosen  in my grade it'd be Hermione,” Harri shrugged in return. She didn’t think her counterpart wanted to actually compete. She certainly didn’t; even if the idea of winning was fun to think about.

"Back to the ship, then," he was saying. "Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?"

Harri saw Krum shake his head as he pulled his furs back on. "Professor, Ivood like some vine," said one of the other Durmstrang boys hopefully.

"I wasn't offering it to you, Poliakoff," snapped Karkaroff, his warmly paternal air vanishing in an instant. "I notice you have dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting boy -"

Viktor wished his Headmaster would treat him like any other student instead of some prized pony. He didn’t want or enjoy the special treatment he was granted for being a Quidditch star. He was perfectly capable of living by the same standards and rules as his classmates.

And then Karkaroff froze. He turned his head back to Harri and stared at her as though he couldn't believe his eyes. Behind their headmaster, the students from Durmstrang came to a halt too. Karkaroff's eyes moved slowly up Harri’s face and fixed upon her scar. The Durmstrang students were staring curiously at Harri too. Out of the corner of her eye, Harri saw comprehension dawn on a few of their faces. The boy with food all down his front nudged the girl next to him and pointed openly at Harri’s forehead.

“Lovely,” Harri said sarcastically. “I can’t wait for that. Truly, it’d be the best part of my year.”

Why did everyone have to point and stare? She was sure they’d whisper about her too. What ridiculous notations about her would they have?

The color drained from Karkaroff's face as Harri’s watched. A terrible look of mingled fury and fear came over him.

"You!" he said, staring at Moody as though unsure he was really seeing him.

"Me," said Moody grimly. "And unless you've got anything to say to Potter, Karkaroff, you might want to move. You're blocking the doorway."

Sirius relaxed next to Remus. At least Moody would keep Karkaroff far from Harri. It would be one less thing he would have to worry about. He could only pray Dumbledore’s age line did its job.

Without another word, Professor Karkaroff swept his students away with him. Moody watched him until he was out of sight, his magical eye fixed upon his back, a look of intense dislike upon his mutilated face.

Moody wondered what Karkaroff hoped to gain from coming back to Britain. He was sure his counterpart would be keeping a close eye on that one. His major concern was that Karkaroff had no reason to want to return to Voldemort. The man had sold out his fellow Death Eaters. There wasn’t anything but death waiting for him should Voldemort return. So what was he playing at?

"All the Durmstrang lot," she replied. "But I haven't seen anyone from Hogwarts yet."

“Of course, why bother to bring us all if we all weren’t going to enter?” Viktor speculated. “Would it not be a waste of time and space otherwise?”

"Bet some of them put it in last night after we'd all gone to bed," said Harri . "I would've if it had been me...wouldn't have wanted everyone watching. What if the goblet just gobbed you right back out again?"

“What a pleasant thought,” Cedric shuddered as a new fear crept its way into his mind. What if the Goblet  knew the only person whose name should come out of the Goblet wasn’t allowed to compete because of their age. Would it reject all of Hogwarts students?

"Done it," Fred said in a triumphant whisper to Harri, Ron, and Hermione. "Just taken it."

"What?" said Ron.

"The Aging Potion, dung brains," said Fred.

Fred and George practically bounced in their seats waiting to hear how they had managed against Dumbledore.

"We're going to split the thousand Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins," said Lee, grinning broadly.

"I'm not sure this is going to work, you know," said Hermione warningly. "I'm sure Dumbledore will have thought of this."

“Joy kill,” George grunted, wondering why Harri stuck around someone who sucked the fun out of everything. She was almost as bad as Percy.

For a split second Harri thought it had worked - George certainly thought so, for he let out a yell of triumph and leapt after Fred - but 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.

The screen rolled down showing Fred and George with their beards, causing the room to laugh.

Fred and George stood from their seats to bow gracefully to Dumbledore. They knew when they had been had. They could appreciate Dumbledore’s prank on those trying to get around his rules.

"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."

“Of course ours were better,” George laughed as he scratched the aging potion off their list of things to get around the age line.

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

Harri, who had played Quidditch against Warrington, shook her head in disgust.

"We can't have a Slytherin champion!"

“And why not?” Blaise asked, eyebrows raised.

“Can you really say you want Warrington representing your entire House,” Harri shot back.

“I’ll give you that, but we do have sixth and seventh years who would be a good choice for champion.”

“None we’ve ever met.”

"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."

“Tell me how you really feel,” Cedric commented drily. 

“Sorry,” Seamus winced. “Nothing personal, just House pride I’m sure.”

Harri scowled at Seamus. Cedric was so much more than his looks. Besides she was sure a scar or two wouldn’t diminish how attractive Cedric was.

Cedric’s mouth twitched up. Hearing Harri thought he was attractive just felt different now, as if it meant more than before. 

"Well, I'm glad someone from Gryffindor's entering," said Hermione. "I really hope you get it, Angelina!"

"Thanks, Hermione," said Angelina, smiling at her.

“Biased much,” Daphne sniffed.

“Oh come off it,” Seamus snapped. “Everyone is biased. We all want our House to be the one a Champion comes from.”

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

“Is that really what you guys call me?” Cedric inquired, thinking it was pretty unoriginal. 

“I don’t,” Harri denied elbowing Ron before he could say anything. “And I won’t let anyone else say it around me.”

“Well you are rather pretty for a boy,” Seamus tried to defend. “And again I’m sure I didn’t mean it. Not that I've said it yet mind you.”

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

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

“Prat,” Ron grumbled as he elbowed a laughing Harri.

“You made it so easy though,” Harri grinned, swatting away the elbows he threw at her.

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

“It would be cruel to send the other students back if they were not chosen. The champions deserve a support system too,” Dumbledore explained. “The tournament will be challenging enough no reason to make them endure a school year alone.”

"Oh good, hurry up," said Ron, and he jumped down the stone steps, keeping his eyes on the back of the veela-girl, who was now halfway across the lawn with Madame Maxime.

“I have a name,” Fleur pointed out, crossing her arms.

“It’s you,” Ron asked, his cheeks turning red.

“I am the only part veela girl who goes to Beauxbatons that would be old enough.”

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. 

Hagrid looked at the book puzzled. Why was he getting dressed up? Did it really look that bad? 

"Oh no, really?" said Hermione, shooting a repressive look at Ron, who, staring at Hagrid's odd hairstyle, had just opened his mouth to say something about it.

“Could have said something,” Hagrid commented looking over at the trio. There seemed to be a lot they didn’t say around him because they were afraid of hurting his feelings. If he was really trying to impress someone he would have liked to know he did not look good.

“Sorry,” Harri winced before offering. “Maybe next time we can help you get ready?”

"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. Hagrid missed the sarcasm.

Hagrid wondered how he was going to teach next year. If the children hated the Skrewts so much he would have to find a different lesson plan. He wanted to be a teacher the children liked.

"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."

“You should just tell us, we can’t enter,” Ron complained, he missed knowing everything before everyone else.

"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!"

The trio shot betrayed looks over at Hagrid. They could keep a secret!

They ended up having lunch with Hagrid, though they didn't eat much - Hagrid had made what he said was a beef casserole, but after Hermione unearthed a large talon in hers, she, Harri , and Ron rather lost their appetites. 

Hagrid winced as his food was described again. He would really have to take Molly Weasley up on the offer to teach him. He wanted the children to be able to eat at his home.

However, 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.

“Been better if you guys kept them,” Harri snickered, before her eyes went wide at the mischievous grins Fred and George sent her.

“Think so?” Fred mused as he shared a look with George and they both rose.

“Wait,” Harri cried, holding her hands up. “Mercy.”

“No can do,” they both crackled as they wrestled her from her seat.

After several moments of all three of them scuffling the twins reteated laughing. Harri was left with a beard of her own.

“Perfect,” Geroge grinned as he and Fred donned their own.

Cedric watched as Harri tackled one of the twins to the ground and dragged the other down too. He couldn’t stop the jealousy that rose at how easy it was for Fred to tease Harri. To be able to be her friend despite his feelings for her. How did Fred separate the two? Did Fred just get used to having his feelings unreturned through the years? Did it get easier to distinguish if you were doing something out of friendship instead of your feelings for the person? If Fred could do it, was there hope he would get there too?

"It'd be doin' 'em an unkindness, Hermione," he said gravely, threading a massive bone needle with thick yellow yarn. "It's in their nature ter look after humans, that's what they like, see? Yeh'd be makin' 'em unhappy ter take away their work, an' insutin' 'em if yeh tried ter pay 'em."

“How could you of all people not want better for the elves?” Hermione cried in outrage. “You love magical creatures.”

“I do,” Hagrid agreed, sending her a stern look, “and I stand by that. I respect all magical creatures and I’m not going to force them into misery because you think you know what they want.”

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?"

Hagrid winced, sure he had been trying to smell good. Hoping the children would tell him it was horrible.

Fleur wondered why Hagrid was trying so hard now when the books had never mentioned the man caring about such things. Could it be the arrival of her headmistress? Was Madam Maxime the first person as large as him he had ever met?

"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, Harri , 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 Harri had only ever seen him wear once before - when he had been looking at the baby dragon, Norbert.

“Nosy brats,”Hagrid said fondly with a shake of his head. 

“Sorry,” the trio grinned. He should have known they’d snoop by now though.

Fleur eyed Hagrid cautiously. Madam Maxime deserved the best the world had to offer her, and Fleur wasn’t sure Hagrid could offer her that. She was willing to keep an open mind though and if these books showed Madam Maxime happy to have Hagrid’s interested Fleur may be willing to help the Grounds Keeper with the lofty goal of impressing the woman.

"He's going up to the castle with her!" said Hermione indignantly. "I thought he was waiting for us!"

“Can’t really blame me can you?” Hagrid grinned sheepishly. He did feel a little bad about ditching the children but when would he ever meet a woman his size again?

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."

Hagrid stammered as children were brought up. He had never allowed himself to hope for children of his own.

"Hope it's Angelina," said Fred as Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down.

"So do I!" said Hermione breathlessly. "Well, we'll soon know!"

Harri did not want to start an argument so she rooted for Cedric in her head.  She’d find no allies within her House in this endeavor.

Cedric understood Harri’s reluctance to root for him surrounded by her House mates but it still stung. It made him wonder why she had been so vocal over Ron insulting him but had kept quiet over Seamus doing it. Or why she couldn’t be that outspoken with her support of him. He wasn’t sure how he felt about any of it.

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.

“This would be better if we didn’t already have a good idea on who was going to be picked,” Colin complained.

“We don’t know who Hogwarts Champion will be yet,” Ernine insisted heartily. 

“Yes, we do,” Blaise cut in, tired of this argument. “It’s going to be Harri, just accept that.”

“I never put my name in though,” Harri pointed out weakly, more inclined to believe Blaise.

“Yet it’s still going to be you because you’re Harriet Potter and there's just no way some weird bullshit doesn’t happen and your name is called despite you never entering. Why else have us read about the tournament? All the other books follow you doing ridiculous, bordering on impossible things.”

“Probably,” Harri sighed as she sank in her seat. “But a girl can hope.”

"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."

Harri and several other people clapped as this was read.

"No surprises there!" yelled Ron as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Harri saw Viktor Krum rise 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.

Harri wondered if Viktor really did hate all the attention as much as she did. It didn’t sound as if he was excited to have everyone’s attention on him. Did he resent that it was just expected his name would be called? Did he even want to be in the tournament or had he been pushed to do it for being Viktor Krum?

"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"

“If we really are the champions then it would make sense if Harri’s name was called too,” Fleur commented as pride filled her knowing she had what it took to have her name called. “Why else would we be brought here?”

"Oh look, they're all disappointed," Hermione said over the noise, nodding toward the remainder of the Beauxbatons party. "Disappointed" was a bit of an understatement, Harri thought. Two of the girls who had not been selected had dissolved into tears and were sobbing with their heads on their arms.

Fleur was sure her classmates were devastated not to be picked. She would have been too. The thought of disappointing Madam Maxime was horrifying. But crying so opening was undignified. They weren’t honoring the image of their school. Madam Maxime would be ashamed.

"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Cedric Diggory!"

Harri whistled loudly as her friend's name was called out and it was still drowned out by the Hufflepuffs as they celebrated.

“That’s my boy,” Amos beamed as he clapped with the rest of the Hufflepuffs. He knew Ced would get picked. Knew he would surpass Potter.

Sirius and Remus sagged in relief. Harri wouldn’t be in the tournament. They wouldn’t have to hear about her risking her life over such a silly thing.

“Do we get to know Harri through Diggory then?” Fleur questioned not understanding why Diggory was called instead of Harri. Harri’s name being called would have made the most sense.

Shock flooded Cedric as his name was read. He had really been picked. He was sure Harri would have been chosen instead. She was far more deserving of the title of champion

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.

“The three champions have already been chosen!”

“What’s happening?”

“Merlin please don’t be my name.”

" Harriet Potter."

“The spot light was nice while it lasted,” Cedric joked weakly.

“I’m so sorry,” Harri cried in alarm. “I wouldn’t have wanted to take the spotlight from you.”

“I know,” Cedric assured her, “I’m not mad. It’s silly to think I’d be upset over it even in the books. I know you aren’t that kind of person.”

“Thanks,” Harri sighed in relief.

Amos simmered next to his wife.  While Cedric might be willing to let it go, he wasn’t. Potter being called would make the tournament all about her. Cedric would be pushed to the side. She was already famous. Amos didn’t care if she hadn’t put her name in the Cup. She was still stealing this from his son.

Sirius let Remus cling to him in horror. No. This couldn’t be happening. Three champions had already been called. Harri was supposed to be safe. Dumbledore was supposed to keep her out of the tournament. 

Blaise sent the Hufflepuffs a smug look. He knew Potter would compete.