0508 Announcement

Ron's face lit up with renewed hope at Fred and George's determined declarations. He leaned forward eagerly across the ancient wooden table, his freckled face looking earnest in the warm candlelight of the Great Hall.

"Could you also ask him about that night?" Ron's voice carried a mixture of hope and desperation. "You know, whether he made a mistake and paid us with leprechaun gold instead of real Galleons?"

"Handle your own affairs, silly brother—" George's refusal, though kindly meant, was firm and decisive and he turned his attention back to the spectacular display of dishes before them.

Ron's face darkened with anger, his mouth opening to release what would undoubtedly have been a tirade at his brothers, when an unexpected voice cut through the tension.

"Excuse me, are you finished with zis bouillabaisse?"

The voice, melodious yet husky, with an unmistakable French accent, startled Harry from his observations. He turned, surprised to find that the Beauxbatons girl had somehow approached their table without making a sound.

To describe this girl as merely "pretty" would be like calling a diamond merely "shiny". The reactions of the boys nearby told the real story - Seamus had frozen with his fork halfway to his mouth, Neville had knocked over his pumpkin juice without noticing, Dean was staring blatantly, and Ron... Ron looked as though he'd been hit by a Confundus Charm.

Fleur Delacour stood there like a vision from a dream. She leaned forward slightly, causing her silvery-blonde hair to cascade over one shoulder like liquid moonlight, revealing a graceful collarbone that seemed sculpted from the finest marble.

Her skin possessed an almost luminous quality, seeming to glow like moonlight on fresh snow. Every feature of her face seemed precisely crafted by nature itself - from her high, elegant cheekbones to her perfectly curved lips and striking blue eyes that sparkled with intelligence and something else... something almost otherworldly.

She appeared more mature than the sixth and seventh-year Hogwarts students, both in appearance and physique. She was like a magnificent flower in full bloom, making everything around her seem somehow duller in comparison.

The reaction from the female students was equally telling, though obviously different. Hermione, Ginny, and other girls watched her with expressions ranging from wariness to outright hostility, like cats encountering an unfamiliar presence in their territory. Their discomfort was tangible, creating an almost visible tension in the air.

Harry wrinkled his nose slightly as her presence had brought with it a wave of perfume scent that he found overwhelming.

"Sure," He managed to say, pushing the dish towards her. "You can take it."

"You 'ave finished?" She inquired again.

"Yes!" Ron practically leaped to his feet, nearly knocking over several goblets in his haste. He grabbed the dish with slightly trembling hands, lifting it toward her as if presenting a precious offering. "We're done. It was excellent, really excellent."

The girl took the dish with elegance. She seemed to look straight through Ron as if he were made of glass, but after taking a few slow steps, she paused and turned back, her gaze settling on Harry with thoughtful curiosity.

"Which 'ouse are you in?" She asked, her voice carrying genuine interest. "I 'ave 'eard zat 'Ogwarts 'as four 'ouses."

"Gryffindor," Harry replied, gesturing toward the magnificent banner suspended from the enchanted ceiling, where a majestic golden lion stood against a field of deep crimson.

"Oh," Fleur's said with slight disappointment, her silvery voice maintaining its husky quality as she continued with her distinctive accent, "I 'ave 'eard zat Bryan Watson is from Slytherin 'Ouse?"

"What about it?" Hermione's voice came, her eyebrows drawing together in a deep furrow.

"Is Slytherin ze best 'ouse at 'Ogwarts?" Fleur's question came with an enthusiasm, her blue eyes sparkling with barely concealed interest.

This was truly an absurd question. Harry knew with absolute certainty that if this inquiry had come from anyone else - anyone who wasn't both a distinguished guest and possessing such otherworldly beauty - the reaction from the Gryffindor table would have been instant and potentially explosive. The Question or Suggestion that Slytherin might be superior to Gryffindor was practically blasphemous in this corner of the Great Hall.

"The best house at Hogwarts is Gryffindor!" Hermione's retort came with an uncharacteristic sharpness.

Hearing this response, Fleur looked at Hermione with slight surprise. She hadn't noticed this bushy-haired girl with slightly oversized front teeth before. But there was a flash of recognition in her eyes - not of Hermione personally, but of the hostility she detected there. It was a reaction she had encountered many times before.

A small, indifferent smile appeared across her perfect lips as she continued to ask curiously,

"So, what does Mr. Watson teach at 'Ogwarts? And... if I may ask, where might one find 'is office?"

Harry answered truthfully, despite the weird signals he was beginning to receive from his female classmates.

"Professor Watson used to teach us Defense Against the Dark Arts. Now he's teaching a... well, a Physical Education class." He paused, gathering his thoughts before continuing with precise directions. "His office is on the third floor. From the entrance hall, you take the main staircase up three flights, turn left at the landing, follow the corridor until you reach two turns, take both, walk a few more steps, and you'll see a door marked 'Student Safety Office.'"

"Physical Education," Fleur repeated the words, her interest visibly piqued as she turned and walked back toward the Ravenclaw table.

"Whew," Ron expelled a long breath, as if he'd been holding it the entire time. His face was flushed, and his eyes remained slightly blank. "If she's not a Veela, I'll eat Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts raw - every last one of them!"

"Shut up, Weasley!" The simultaneous snap from both Ginny and Hermione carried enough venom to poison a basilisk. Their faces had darkened considerably, and Hermione whirled on Harry with the intensity of a charging hippogriff. "Why did you tell her all that, Harry!"

Harry's expression was a perfect picture of bewildered innocence, like a first-year caught in the wrong corridor. "She's a guest... isn't she?" His voice grew increasingly uncertain as he spoke. "Besides, what I told her wasn't exactly a secret. Anyone could have answered..."

His words trailed off as he became aware of the growing number of disapproving females faces turned in his direction. Not just Hermione and Ginny, but Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, and the entire female population of the Gryffindor Quidditch team - Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, and Katie Bell - along with several seventh-year girls were all fixing him with looks that could have curdled milk.

"Did I say something wrong?" Harry's anxiety was beginning to rise as he found himself the target of this unexpected female group displeasure.

"You betrayed Professor Watson!" Parvati's accusation burst forth with the force of a hex, her dark eyes flashing with indignation. "That girl has ill intentions towards Professor Watson!"

The statement sent an uncomfortable tingle across Harry's scalp, but as his mind processed the accusation, confusion overtook his initial alarm. After all, Fleur was just a student, wasn't she? The idea that she could pose any real threat to Professor Watson seemed almost laughable.

The tension was broken by the sudden disappearance of the golden plates, leaving the tables gleaming as if they had never been used. Dumbledore and Professor Watson rose in perfect synchronization, their movements drawing all eyes in the Great Hall.

Bryan separated from the staff table, striding towards a shadowy corner of the Great hall where, as many now noticed for the first time, Filch had been lurking like a particularly suspicious gargoyle. His hands clutched a massive wooden chest that sparkled with jeweled inlays in the candlelight.

Dumbledore began the explanation everyone had been anticipating for the past two months: the champion selection process for the Triwizard Tournament and a general overview of what those chosen few might face as tasks. This portion clearly belonged to the Headmaster, while Professor Watson positioned himself to present the legendary artifact Dumbledore had referenced - the instrument of choosing champions.

The Goblet of Fire emerged from its container, its appearance breathtaking. The goblet itself was roughly hewn from ancient wood, showing the marks of countless years of service. What made it extraordinary was not its crude craftsmanship but the dancing blue-white flames that filled it. The flames moved with an almost hypnotic rhythm, as if performing an ancient and mysterious dance.

Every eye in the Great Hall was fixed on the magical artifact, its flames reflecting in hundreds of wide eyes and creating an almost dreamlike atmosphere throughout the vast space.

"For the next twenty-four hours, until the conclusion of tomorrow's Halloween feast, this goblet will take on the sacred task of selecting the three students it deems most worthy to represent their respective schools,"

Bryan's deep, resonant voice filled the hall. "Tonight, we will place the Goblet of Fire in the entrance hall, where any eligible student wishing to participate may submit their name. However, there are two crucial matters that require clarification—"

His voice took on an even more serious tone as he continued, "What sets this Triwizard Tournament apart from its historical predecessors is the unprecedented scope of its audience. We have implemented revolutionary magical technology that will allow the champions' trials to be witnessed in real-time across multiple locations. This means that while you compete here at Hogwarts, witches and wizards in Diagon Alley, magical communities throughout France, Germany, Switzerland, Italy, and numerous other locations will observe your achievements as they unfold. I trust you understand the implications - selection as a champion will result in instant, international recognition—"

CRASH!

The Great Hall erupted into barely controlled chaos. The announcement hit the assembled students like a tsunami, sending waves of excitement rippling through the crowd. Not only the Hogwarts students but also the visiting delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang (with the notable exception of Viktor Krum, who maintained his stoic demeanor) wore expressions of stunned disbelief mixed with burning ambition.

"Is zis true, Dumbledore?" Madame Maxime's tall frame seemed to grow even larger as she turned to the Hogwarts headmaster in surprise. "Why was I not informed of zis development beforehand?"

"Oh, I suppose—" Karkaroff's smooth voice carried an undertone of wariness, his dark eyes calculating as he spoke, "Perhaps Hogwarts, as our gracious host, didn't deem it necessary to trouble us with such a minor detail."

"Bryan believed it essential to demonstrate our significant advances in magical communication and cooperation," Dumbledore explained, his eyes twinkling. "However, this particular project has faced numerous challenges. We weren't entirely certain of its successful completion until quite recently, but now, it seems, Bryan's confidence has been justified."

"SILENCE!" Bryan's commanding voice cut through the growing tumult. "Following from what I've just revealed, the champions will receive recognition proportionate with this expanded audience. This means rewards beyond mere honor. Not only the ultimate victor but each student selected as a champion by the Goblet of Fire will receive a substantial monetary prize upon the tournament's conclusion."

"How much are we talking about, Professor Watson?" George's voice carried clearly across the hall, voicing the question on everyone's mind.

"The exact amount remains to be determined—" Bryan's smile held a hint of mischief, "But we're looking at several hundred Galleons, at minimum."

BANG!

At least dozens of students leaped onto their benches, sending cups and plates clattering as they cheered with unrestrained enthusiasm. The prospect of both fame and fortune had ignited a fire of ambition in many young hearts.

"AND FINALLY, THIS MUST BE SAID!" Bryan's voice rose above the noise, his usual calm demeanor gradually drawing the excited young wizards back to order. "Do not let the allure of honor and wealth cloud your judgment. Consider your choice with the utmost care and seriousness. Once the Goblet of Fire selects you as champion, you enter into a binding magical contract of the most serious nature. You will be constantly monitored, and you will have no choice but to participate until the tournament's conclusion!"

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