chapter 56

For reasons only Merlin could comprehend, Harry found himself almost oversleeping that morning, arriving at the Great Hall just minutes before the owl post. Alongside his usual copy of the 'Daily Prophet', he noticed a letter sealed with the Malfoy crest—an unexpected yet intriguing addition. As he quickly skimmed through the newspaper articles over breakfast, finding nothing of personal relevance, his curiosity shifted to the letter. Inside was an ornate message from Lucius Malfoy, begrudgingly indicating that he had agreed to the terms of the contract Harry had proposed, along with the lord's rather desperate wish to see his daughter married off as soon as possible.

Harry snorted; Lucius was in for a surprise when he learned who this so-called 'noble pure-blood lord' truly was. Now aware that he had effectively won Draconica Malfoy's hand, Harry felt compelled to share the news with her. Though it might have been wiser to speak to her privately later, he opted to approach her immediately and made his way to the Slytherin table.

"Lady Malfoy?" he said smoothly as he approached the stunning witch. "May I have a moment of your time?" Draconica, still engrossed in her breakfast, nodded for him to continue. Harry exhaled; how on earth do you tell someone you've just bought them as a bride? Lacking a graceful way to express the situation, he simply handed her the letter. "I think you might find this interesting, milady."

She took the letter from him, her eyes scanning its contents.

The loud slap that followed drew every eye to the Slytherin table. Harry blinked in shock, his left cheek already marked with a red handprint as he stared at Draconica.

"You could have warned me," she said in a deceptively calm tone, thrusting the letter back into his chest. She rose from the table and stormed out of the Great Hall, leaving Harry to gape at the empty seat she vacated. As if things couldn't get worse, Professor Snape decided to add to his woes.

"Potter, you insufferable brat!" he seethed, his voice dripping with disdain. "A month of detentions and one hundred points from Gryffindor for harassing other students! Get back to your table at once, or I'll have you scrubbing cauldrons until you graduate!" Still reeling from the disastrous encounter with Draconica, Harry vacantly complied, returning to the Gryffindor table without fully processing the unfairness of Snape's punishment or the silence of the other professors.

Meanwhile, Draconica raced back to the Slytherin dormitories, her initial fury at the news of her marriage contract quickly turning into self-directed anger for her rash reaction. Regret flooded her as she realized how she may have jeopardized her relationship with Harry. She fought the urge to cry; Slytherins did not display weakness in public. Yet once safely ensconced in her room, she allowed herself the release.

As the day progressed, classes blurred together for Harry, his mind racing over his conversation with Draconica, desperately trying to pinpoint where it had all gone wrong. She didn't show up for Defense Against the Dark Arts, and during lunch, he caught sight of her again—she couldn't meet his gaze, and it was evident she had been crying. Daphne and Tracey flanked her, shooting him glances filled with disdain, which certainly didn't make things easier for him.

If his situation with Draconica were his only concern, Harry could manage it. But it was also Halloween, a day his gut warned would bring mischief or worse. Despite his feelings, he had no choice but to attend the mandatory feast.

The Halloween feast felt interminable, perhaps due to his preoccupations; perhaps because of his instinctual anxiety; possibly it was simply overwhelming to have two high-stakes feasts in consecutive days.

Finally, the students finished their meals and resumed their chatter, speculating wildly about the upcoming champion selections. When Dumbledore stood, the hall fell into a hush, eager for answers.

"Well, the Goblet is nearly ready to make its decision," said the headmaster. "I estimate it needs just one more minute. Once the champions' names are called, I'd ask them to come to the front of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and proceed into the next chamber," he motioned towards the door behind the staff table, "where they will receive their first instructions." With a flourish of his wand, he extinguished most of the lights in the hall, leaving only the flickering candles and the now-brilliant Goblet of Fire which illuminated the room with bluish flames.

The Goblet blazed more fiercely than anything else, casting an almost blinding light across the Hall as everyone waited with bated breath. A few impatient students checked their watches, while others whispered excitedly. Suddenly, the flames morphed to red, followed by sparks swirling above. The goblet expelled a charred slip of parchment, igniting gasps throughout the crowd. Dumbledore retrieved the parchment, reading aloud:

"The Hogwarts champion is Mr. Cedric Diggory!" Instantly, a banner emblazoned with Cedric's name unfurled beneath the school's crest, while a number '0' appeared beside it, glinting in gold.

There was uproar at the Hufflepuff table as they cheered for their champion, while the students from other houses simmered with discontent over the selection. After a brief period, Dumbledore's voice soared above the clamor, urging silence. In that moment, Cedric discreetly entered the chamber designated for the champions.

Not long after, the Goblet produced another parchment. Rather than reading it aloud, Dumbledore handed it to Madame Maxime. With a courteous nod, the Beauxbatons headmistress proclaimed: "The Beauxbatons champion is Fleur Delacour." As with Cedric's announcement, her name adorned the Beauxbatons banner, and her score appeared in glittering gold.

Fleur, possessing unmistakable veela charm, stood up gracefully to join the other champions, while murmurs of distress rippled through her schoolmates—some fighting tears over not being selected.

The Goblet's flames danced again, and this time revealed the champion for Durmstrang. "The champion for the Durmstrang Institute of Magic is Victor Krum!" As before, the Durmstrang banner fluttered into place with Krum's name displayed.

A fraught silence swept over the hall after Krum joined Cedric and Fleur in the side room. Dumbledore restored the lights and addressed the students, emphasizing their role in supporting the champions.

Unbeknownst to Harry, the fate had other designs for him. Just as Mr. Crouch prepared to enter the side room, the flames of the Goblet flared a fourth time, ejecting yet another slip of parchment. The unexpected announcement left the hall in shocked silence for several seconds before Dumbledore retrieved the paper and read it aloud: "Harry Potter."

An immediate uproar broke out, the hall drowning in disbelief and outrage aimed at the bewildered green-eyed teenager. "Silence!" Dumbledore boomed, casting a charm to amplify his voice and regain control of the room.

"What is the meaning of this, Mr. Potter?" the headmaster demanded, his expression stern.

"The brat wants more attention for himself, what else?" Snape spat, his sneer on full display. "Couldn't bear to step back and let someone else have their moment, Potter?"

Harry sighed, realizing that without extraordinary evidence to clear his name, only Hermione and Neville would believe his innocuous stance. Perhaps his Slytherin friends might, but so far, he felt unable to confirm this with a glance.

"Sonorus!" An uncomfortable wave accompanied the charm, but Harry needed to be heard. "I, Harry James Potter…" he carefully pronounced, not needing to recreate himself as Lord Slytherin publicly at this moment. "…Do swear upon my magic and my life that I did not place my name in the Goblet of Fire. I did not levitate, banish, throw, or deliver my name to the Goblet without crossing the age line." A few students thumped their heads on the tables in realization. "I did not ask, bribe, blackmail, or coerce anyone else to put my name into the Goblet." More heads hit tables. "So mote it be!" A flash of magic confirmed the oath as valid, cementing his innocence.

But he wasn't finished. "Expecto Patronum!" he called out, drawing on a cherished memory despite the tumult of the day. Silver tendrils streamed from his wand, materializing into his Patronus—an impressive creature defying description, part dragon, part serpent, towering before his audience.

Gasps echoed throughout the hall. Rarely had anyone seen a fourteen-year-old cast such a formidable Patronus, and his presence commanded attention.

As students clustered in murmur, Harry quietly dispelled the conjured spirit and sank into a seat, waiting for the dust to settle.

After a few moments of chaos, it became clear that Harry's presence was officially recognized. Tournament officials drew together, culminating in doubts directed towards Dumbledore.

"Mr. Potter, regardless of how you came to be entered, the Goblet has chosen you. You are bound to compete. You've wasted enough of our time; join the other champions." Crouch Sr.'s irritation was evident as he gestured towards the door.

Harry felt a surge of frustration but acknowledged that resisting would do little more than waste time. If all went as expected, Violet would soon be there, and he trusted she would help him navigate the unexpected challenge. With a resigned nod, he stepped toward the side room where the other champions waited.

Entering the room first, he found Krum, Cedric, and Fleur clustered around the fire, their figures silhouetted against the flames. Krum leaned against the mantel, maintaining an aloof demeanor, while Cedric stared contemplatively into the fire. Fleur, her silver hair cascading elegantly, sat gracefully in an armchair.

Before she could inquire about his presence, the officials filed into the room, led by Ludo Bagman.

"Gentlemen… Lady," he began, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, only to have it shrugged off with resentment. Crossing his arms defiantly, Harry cast an unyielding glare, ready for whatever explanation came next.

"As surprising as this may be, allow me to present the fourth Triwizard champion!" Fleur's laughter escaped, but the gravity of the situation silenced her quickly as she turned toward Madame Maxime.

"Madame Maxime!" Fleur exclaimed in disbelief. "Zey are saying zis little boy is to compete too!"

Unfazed, the Beauxbatons headmistress turned towards Dumbledore, asserting, "Even if the boy insists he didn't enter himself, Hogwarts having two champions remains unfair. What is the meaning of this?"

Dumstrang's Karkarov voiced his agreement, his frigid smile betraying no warmth. "Two from Hogwarts? I don't recall reading the rules that allow for such an anomaly."

Before tensions escalated, Harry interjected, raising his voice with authority. "Maybe you should all stop bickering like children and find a way to get me out of this tournament?" Magical energy pulsed from him, accentuating his frustration. "None of us believe I belong here!"

Crouch Sr. remained unyielding. "Mr. Potter, your name is bound by the Goblet. You will compete."

"Such decisions should not be made hastily!" a smooth voice entered the dialogue, drawing every eye to the newcomer. A distinguished gentleman dressed in a deep-red suit appeared, carrying a thick folder that caught Harry's attention as it was from Violet's office.

"Lord Potter, I apologize for my delay," he said smoothly, arching an eyebrow. "My name is Howard L. Bridget, and I will represent you tonight."

As the conversations unfolded, the complexities of fate entwined around Harry like vines, leading him deeper into challenges unforeseen.