Neville Longbottom actually fainted in Moody's class—just from hearing the screams of a poisoned spider.
Only after casting the Killing Curse to silence the spider's cries did Moody finally send Neville to the infirmary.
From that day on, the students at Hogwarts understood two important truths.
First, when Professor Moody turns his back on you, his magical eye can still see everything. The student who spent an entire class hanging upside down was living proof.
Second, in Moody's class, you absolutely must not cross him. Otherwise, he will give you a deep, unforgettable lesson in what it means to be hit with an Unforgivable Curse.
A week later, the moment everyone had been waiting for finally arrived. The Great Hall was packed; every teacher and student was present.
"Everyone, please take your seats. The moment we've all been waiting for has come—the champion selection begins."
With a wave of Dumbledore's hand, the flames in the hall dimmed, making it easier for everyone to focus on the Goblet of Fire.
As Dumbledore activated the Goblet, the purple flames turned red. A piece of parchment flew out, burning along its edges before reforming.
"The champion of Durmstrang Institute of Magic is... Viktor Krum!"
A wave of cheers erupted—not only from the Durmstrang students, but also from Beauxbatons and Hogwarts. It was as though they themselves had been chosen to participate in the Tournament.
Soon after, another piece of parchment flew out. Dumbledore immediately recognized it as coming from France, as the parchment had been cut into a petal-like shape.
"The next champion is... from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, Fleur Delacour."
Dumbledore turned toward the crowd of floral robes. The most stunning girl among them rose gracefully to her feet.
Fleur Delacour courteously shook hands with Dumbledore, then proceeded to the waiting room in the back.
Almost immediately, a third piece of parchment flew out. Unless something went wrong, this would be the final champion of the evening.
"The Hogwarts champion is... Cedric Diggory."
When it came to looks, Cedric Diggory of Hufflepuff was undeniably the most handsome student at Hogwarts. What no one expected, however, was that his magical abilities were strong enough to earn the Goblet's approval.
"Excellent! We have our three champions. But in the end, only one will be remembered in history—the one who will lift the symbol of victory, the Triwizard Cup!"
Dumbledore's stirring speech was meant to inspire enthusiasm among the students—it was, after all, his responsibility as headmaster.
At the staff table, Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, brought out the trophy and lifted its cover.
The Cup sparkled brilliantly, dazzling everyone who looked at it. But just as the hall's attention was fixed on the trophy, a few people noticed something odd.
The Goblet of Fire's flame suddenly flared up again. It turned red from purple, and another piece of parchment flew out.
"Harry Potter! Harry Potter?"
Dumbledore looked flustered. A fourth champion? Someone must have tampered with the age line—and he hadn't even noticed.
Harry was pushed forward by his classmates, since Dumbledore was clearly calling for him.
Harry and Dumbledore exchanged bewildered glances. This wasn't supposed to happen.
But the parchment had already emerged. That meant Harry was now officially one of the champions. Holding the parchment—clearly not written in his own handwriting—Harry felt like a thousand alpacas were trampling through his mind.
As he walked toward the waiting room in the back, everyone else looked at him with cold indifference. Only Professor McGonagall patted his shoulder in silent comfort.
And Moody—what was with that encouraging look? That "I believe in you" expression?
When Harry entered the waiting room, the other three champions stared at him as if they'd seen a ghost.
Suddenly, the Goblet flared up again. Purple turned to red, and yet another piece of parchment shot out.
Dumbledore was stunned. Everyone was stunned. Could the Goblet be broken? This was the fifth name already!
"Beauxbatons Academy of Magic... Gabrielle Delacour."
Dumbledore recognized the girl. She was one of the two most adored students at Beauxbatons, and Fleur's younger sister. In other words, yet another champion under seventeen.
"Dumbledore! What is going on?"
The towering half-giant headmistress stood up. If Harry Potter being chosen had seemed like Hogwarts cheating, then the selection of another of her students made the whole situation downright bizarre.
"Go on to the back, child."
Dumbledore didn't know what else to say. Clearly, this year's Triwizard Tournament had become a colossal joke—and the host of that joke was Hogwarts. This would go down in history.
Yes, just as Dumbledore said earlier—Hogwarts would go down in history, but as a joke.
"Don't tell me there'll be another champion from Durmstrang?"
Some students around began murmuring. Since both Hogwarts and Beauxbatons had two champions selected, it seemed reasonable to expect that another slip of parchment from Durmstrang might appear as well.
Hearing this, Igor Karkaroff shoved aside the professors and students in front of him and rushed straight to the Goblet of Fire. But before he could do anything, the flames surged again, turning from purple to red. A slip of parchment floated down mockingly—right onto his face.
"Durmstrang Institute of Magic, Stanislav Ivaneski."
Igor Karkaroff trembled with rage. One of his students had been selected too—this situation was becoming impossible to explain.
That could only mean one thing: the Goblet of Fire was broken—while under the Ministry's custody.
The Goblet had already ejected a sixth slip of parchment, and now, it seemed to be showing signs of flaring up again.
"Freeze it exactly as it is!"
A spell struck the Goblet directly. Everything came to a halt. The flames froze in midair like a solid, stretching out like the branches of a tree.
"Regulus! Attacking the Goblet like that may trigger one of the ancient curses."
Dumbledore watched as Regulus Black lowered his wand. Even he hadn't been able to stop the Goblet—but Regulus had managed it.
"This spell only stops the flow of time. It won't interfere with the Goblet's function. But if we can't find out what's going on, then that will be the real problem."
Regulus Black's words were somewhat cryptic, but Dumbledore understood. No one knew how many more slips the Goblet might still produce. It all depended on how many had been placed inside in the first place.
"Can we find out how many students from each school submitted their names?"
Regulus turned to the other two headmasters.
"What are you implying?"
Madame Maxime frowned. Clearly, she hadn't grasped the issue yet.
"If we assume the Goblet is still fair, and also assume that it might throw out the entire list from one school, then the smallest number of names submitted by any of the schools would represent one-third of the total number of champions we could eventually see."
Hogwarts students had definitely submitted the most names. So now it was up to the other two schools to determine which of them had submitted the fewest.
The matter was simple, and the two headmasters immediately began checking.
"Let's have the students return to their dormitories for now."
Regulus Black addressed Dumbledore. The students had been waiting anxiously for the outcome—but Regulus wanted them cleared out. Still, no one could override Dumbledore's orders.
All of the Hogwarts students returned to their dorms. The other schools' students likewise went back to their lodgings. The two headmasters would soon finish their investigations.
"Mr. Barty Crouch, could you please inform the Ministry and have the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes handle this?"
Regulus Black had fulfilled his duties and now seemed ready to wash his hands of the matter.
"Regulus! I know about your situation. I know you must have a way to fix this. We should only involve the Department of Accidents and Catastrophes if we truly can't resolve it ourselves."
Barty Crouch looked at Regulus pleadingly. His weary, old face made others uncomfortable just looking at him.
Indeed—his political career was more important than anything else. An incident like this couldn't be smoothed over just by cutting ties with a Death Eater son and accepting a reassignment. If things got out of hand, the Ministry might not have any place left for Barty Crouch at all.
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