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"With all due respect Headmaster, you're wrong." The old wizard frowned, ready to refute Harry's claim. "I will think ill of me." And he stepped through the ward and into the circle. He smiled softly as he walked the five feet to the goblet. It was with a silent determination that Harry lifted his hand and placed his name into the goblet. The parchment light up for a second, orange embers lighting up on it before it disappeared into the flames.
"How did you do that?" A seventh year student Harry had never seen before asked, looking between the green eyed wizard and the Headmaster in confusion.
"Well," Harry stated, a ready smile on his lips now that he had finally taken that final step, "you know the saying; dura lex, sed lex."
"The law may be hard but it's the law." Dumbledore repeated in English. "If you're certain, Harry." The moment green eyes turned on blue, Harry could see the grandfatherly smile on the Headmaster's face and at that moment he knew -he simply knew- that Albus was certain that, even if he had managed to compete, there was no chance the goblet would pick him. We'll just have to wait and see, Harry thought, his eyes searching for his father and brother. The day would be taxing as it was. He would rather wait for the selection with his family.
"You did great, Harry." Severus said as his son approached him. "No matter what, I'm very proud of you." The potions master smiled widely and sincerely; there was a slight chance this Tournament would cause him a coronary by the end of the year. Still, he would be proud of his son to the very last moment.
"Thank you." Harry stated simply. "So, what do you say? Shall we find something useful to do with my day before I drive myself up the wall?" At that both Neville and Severus laughed, complying with his request nonetheless. They did their best to keep his mind of things for as long as possible. The Tournament wasn't even mentioned in passing and the Potter's weren't discussed. They would be dealt with when the time was nigh but not a moment sooner.
Instead they spoke of Quidditch and the Firebolt, of classes and the second animagus transformation Harry was finally feeling he was close to accomplishing; Severus had asked for lunch to be brought to his office and there they ate as the potions master talked to them of Haggrid's efforts to woo Madame Maxime. Harry wasn't certain if the image of Haggrid in his best -and only- suit was what made him laugh or his father's liberal use of the word 'woo'. Finally, night came, and with it the Halloween feast.
"Everything seems to happen on Halloween, doesn't it?" Severus asked, his eyes trailing over the assorted faces of the students around them as they walked into the Great Hall. Whispers followed Harry as the rumour of him placing his name in the goblet had spread during the day. He ignored everyone and everything, Adrian's glares included, and simply sat silently, nibbling through his dinner without true appetite.
"I just can't believe you did it." Hermione mumbled for the fifth time. Harry rolled his eyes and turned to her, intent of making her stop.
"Yet he did, Hermione." Ginny said, sounding bored and annoyed. "Now can we eat, please? Let it go." The older girl shot Ginny a dirty look that she ignored while Harry planned to get her the best Christmas present ever. If things kept going this way -the majority of the students around him treated him with a version of silent awe- he might just make it through the selection without hexing anybody. The next few minutes felt excruciatingly long; Harry reasonably knew it couldn't have been more than a quarter of an hour later but it had felt like forever to him. When the food from the golden plates was gone and Harry's heart felt like it was about to jump from his chest, Dumbledore rose from his seat and started speaking.
"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" he indicated the door behind the staff table "where they will be receiving their first instructions."
"Crossing my fingers." Neville muttered, bumping Harry with his shoulder. The goblet's flames rose higher, burnt brighter as Harry's breath hitched. Any moment now. It was finally happening. Dumbledore extinguished all the candles with a swipe of his wand and the Great Hall remained illuminated only by the flames of the goblet that were fluctuating between blue and red.
The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it as 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."
"No surprises there!" yelled Ron as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Harry 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.
"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"
HI GUYS IF YOU WANT READ 400 + CHAPTERS THEN VISIT
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