Chapter 231: "The Four Champions"

The Great Hall buzzed with excitement as students filed in for the Halloween feast. For the first time in years, Harry Potter found himself among them. He had always avoided the Halloween celebrations, choosing instead to honor the memory of his grandparents who had sacrificed their lives to protect him and Charles from Voldemort on this very night, years ago. But tonight was different; the selection of the Triwizard champions demanded his presence.

As the golden plates filled with an array of dishes, Harry ate silently. His housemates, knowing the reason for his silence, decided not to disturb him.

Finally, as the last of the desserts vanished, Dumbledore rose to his feet. The hall fell silent, tension palpable in the air.

"The Goblet of Fire is almost ready to make its decision," Dumbledore announced. "When the champions' names are called, I would ask them to please come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber, where they will be receiving their first instructions."

With a wave of his wand, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging the Hall into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes.

Suddenly, the flames inside the goblet turned red. Sparks began to fly from it. The next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it — the whole room gasped.

Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white.

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

A storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Viktor Krum rose from the Slytherin table and slouched up toward Dumbledore; he turned right, walked along the staff table, and disappeared through the door into the next chamber.

"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"

The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused again on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.

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

Fleur rose gracefully to her feet, shook back her sheet of silvery blonde hair, and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.

When Fleur Delacour too had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement you could almost taste it. The Hogwarts champion next...

And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip, Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.

"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Hadrian Potter!"

The uproar that followed was deafening. Every single Hogwarts student had jumped to their feet, screaming and stamping, as Harry made his way past them. He strode towards the staff table and followed Krum and Fleur into the side chamber.

After Harry left for the antechamber, the excitement in the Great Hall began to die down. Dumbledore was smiling, about to congratulate the three schools on their champions when suddenly, the Goblet of Fire turned red once more. Sparks flew out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.

Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. Finally, Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out —

"Charles Potter."

The Great Hall fell into stunned silence. Every head turned to where Charles sat, his face a mixture of shock and confusion. At the staff table, Professor McGonagall and Professor Potter had gotten to their feet and swept past Ludo Bagman and Professor Karkaroff to whisper urgently to Professor Dumbledore, who bent his ear toward them, frowning slightly.

Charles sat frozen in his seat, unable to move. Hermione and Ron were staring at him, open-mouthed.

Up at the top table, Professor Dumbledore had straightened up, nodding to Professor McGonagall.

"Charles Potter!" he called again. "Charles! Up here, if you please!"

"I didn't put my name in," Charles said blankly to Ron and Hermione. "You know I didn't."

But his friends just stared at him, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief.

Professor Dumbledore called once more, "Charles Potter!"

With a gentle push from Hermione, Charles got to his feet, trod on the hem of his robes, and stumbled slightly. He set off up the gap between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. The buzzing grew louder and louder as he neared the top table. After what seemed like an hour, he was right in front of Dumbledore, feeling the stares of all the teachers upon him.

"Well... through the door, Charles," said Dumbledore. He wasn't smiling.

As Charles moved off along the teachers' table, whispers broke out like little hissing fires all over the Hall. Some students stood up to get a better look at Charles as he left the Hall.

In his wake, chaos erupted. Students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were shouting in outrage. Hogwarts students were divided - some cheering for having two champions, others protesting the unfairness.

Karkaroff and Madame Maxime were on their feet, demanding explanations from Dumbledore. Professor McGonagall was trying to restore order, while Snape's face had twisted into a sneer of disgust.

Amidst the uproar, Dumbledore called for silence, his voice magically amplified. "SILENCE!"

The Hall gradually quieted, all eyes on the Headmaster.

"We have an unexpected situation," Dumbledore said gravely. "Rest assured, we will investigate this thoroughly. For now, I ask you all to return to your dormitories in an orderly fashion. Prefects, please lead your houses. Heads of Houses, please join me in the antechamber."

---

The scene goes back to when Harry entered the chamber after getting selected as the Hogwarts Champion. The small room was lined with paintings of witches and wizards. A handsome fire was roaring in the fireplace opposite him.

Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour were grouped around the fire. Krum, hunched-up and brooding, was leaning against the mantelpiece, slightly apart from Fleur. Fleur Delacour looked around when Harry walked in and threw back her sheet of long, silvery hair. She had expected her rival to be selected and decided to ignore him for now.

An awkward silence fell over the room. Harry, deciding to break the ice, turned to Krum. "I must say, your Quidditch skills are impressive. The way you play Seeker is unlike anything I've seen before - it's truly exciting to watch."

Krum's usually surly expression softened slightly. "Thank you," he said in his thick accent. "I have heard of your dueling prowess as well. It is most impressive."

Fleur scoffed at this.

Harry raised an eyebrow at her. "Is there a problem, Miss Delacour? Or have you learned nothing beyond using your allure to win duels?"

Fleur's eyes flashed dangerously. "I 'ave trained 'ard to defeat you, Potter. I will be at ze next Dueling tournament, and I will emerge victorious."

Harry smirked. "Keep dreaming, Delacour."

Before Fleur could retort, they heard an uproar from the Great Hall. Krum and Fleur turned to Harry, confusion was evident on their faces.

Harry shrugged. "Something unexpected must have happened. Bad things tend to occur at Hogwarts on Halloween, so this isn't entirely surprising."

Before they could question him further, the door opened and Charles Potter stumbled in, looking pale and confused.

Harry frowned. "Charles, you shouldn't have come in here."

Charles looked at his brother, bewildered. "It's not my fault! My name somehow came out of the goblet as the fourth champion. Dumbledore asked me to join you. I didn't want to."

Harry's expression darkened. "You've made a mistake in coming here, Charles. By entering this chamber, you've accepted the contract and agreed to participate in the tournament. You should have stayed outside and disagreed with everything. That way, the contract couldn't have formed."

Charles's face drained of color. "Then... did Grandpa Dumbledore not know this? Why did he force me to participate?"

Before Harry could respond, Ludo Bagman burst into the room, beaming. "Extraordinary!" he muttered, squeezing Charles'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 Triwizard champion?"

Viktor Krum straightened up. His surly face darkened as he surveyed Charles. Fleur Delacour tossed her hair, smiling, and said, "Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman."

"Joke?" Bagman repeated, bewildered. "No, no, not at all! Charles's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"

"But evidently zair 'as been a mistake," she said contemptuously to Bagman. " 'E cannot compete. 'E is too young."

Harry kept silent while Charles watched everything in a low mood.

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, Professor Snape, and to Harry's surprise, Lily Potter, who immediately rushed to Charles's side.

"Madame Maxime!" said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. "They are saying that this little boy is to compete also!"

"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" Madam Maxime 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. "Two Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two 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 two champions. It is most injust."

"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff

"It's no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff," said Snape softly. His black eyes were alight with malice. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He 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.

Dumbledore was now looking down at Charles, who looked right back at him, confusion and a hint of betrayal in his eyes.

"Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Charles?" Dumbledore asked calmly.

"No," said Charles. His eyes then narrowed. "Professor, did you know that by coming in here, I was accepting the contract? Harry says if I had disagreed in the hall, I could have escaped this."

Dumbledore's eyes widened in shock. He turned to Crouch. "Barty, is this true?"

Crouch nodded solemnly. "I'm afraid so, Albus. Mr. Potter is now bound by the magical contract. He is, indeed, the fourth champion. According to the rules, he could have withdrawn from the tournament had he not walked into this chamber to join the other champions."

Harry had to give it to Junior. He was acting exactly like Crouch Sr. he had seen many times. His acting was worthy of an Oscar, and if Harry hadn't known it was Junior under Polyjuice, he too would have been fooled. Maybe Dumbledore knew too, but no one could ever be sure what went on in that old man's mind.

Realizing he had failed Charles, Dumbledore decided to change the subject and rounded on Harry. "This is your doing, isn't it? Your leaking of the loopholes must have led to someone entering Charles."

Harry stood his ground. "With all due respect, Headmaster, my leaking was a calculated move. I was certain that only I or one of my friends would be chosen as the Hogwarts champion. The others simply don't have the skill or worthiness for such a role, and the cup would not choose them."

Madame Maxime interjected, "But now Hogwarts has another champion!"

"That's not my fault," Harry retorted. "The cup should have chosen only three champions. It appears someone tampered with it to make it a quad-tournament and entered Charles as the only student of that school. If someone else, like one of my friends, had been entered along with Charles, he wouldn't have been selected."

Harry then turned back to Dumbledore. "This is your fault, Headmaster, for not checking for tampering before deciding on the judge, and for enforcing Charles's participation."

Dumbledore, realizing his mistake, quickly changed the subject again. He turned to Crouch. "Barty, is the contract truly binding?"

Crouch examined the slip of parchment bearing Charles's name. "Mr. Potter, is this your handwriting?"

Charles nodded miserably. "Yes, it's from one of the autographs I gave to a fan at the beginning of this year."

Crouch sighed. "Then I'm afraid it is valid."

As the room erupted into protests, Harry's thoughts turned inward. He wasn't completely sure if the contract with Charles was truly binding. His belief was that no contract should have formed between Charles and the cup with the autographed parchment since Charles didn't have the intent to enter. Magic always worked on intent, so the contract should not have formed.

But Harry wasn't entirely certain, and since Dumbledore wasn't doing anything to challenge it, he decided not to intervene. Besides, he wanted everything to proceed as it had in the canon timeline so that he could use it to his advantage.

Karkaroff and Madame Maxime continued their vehement protests, while Moody began throwing out accusations of dark magic. Amidst the chaos, Bagman attempted to brief the champions on the first task, scheduled for November 24th.

As the meeting concluded and the champions were dismissed, Harry made his way back to Ravenclaw Tower, where he knew a celebration awaited him. Despite the events, Harry's mind was calm. Everything had happened according to his expectations. He was still in control.