 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. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read
out - "Harry Potter."
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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - THE FOUR CHAMPIONS
Harry sat there, aware that every head in the Great Hall had turned to look at him.
He was stunned. He felt numb. He was surely dreaming. He had not heard
correctly.
There was no applause. A buzzing, as though of angry bees, was starting to fill the
Hall; some students were standing up to get a better look at Harry as he sat, frozen,
in his seat.
Up at the top table, Professor McGonagall had got to her feet and swept past Ludo
Bagman and Professor Karkaroff to whisper urgently to Professor Dumbledore,
who bent his ear toward her, frowning slightly.
Harry turned to Ron and Hermione; beyond them, he saw the long Gryffindor
table all watching him, openmouthed.
"I didn't put my name in," Harry said blankly. "You know I didn't."
Both of them stared just as blankly back.
At the top table, Professor Dumbledore had straightened up, nodding to Professor
McGonagall.
"Harry Potter!" he called again. "Harry! Up here, if you please!"
"Go on," Hermione whispered, giving Harry a slight push.
Harry 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. It felt like an
immensely long walk; the top table didn't seem to be getting any nearer at all, and
he could feel hundreds and hundreds of eyes upon him, as though each were a
searchlight. The buzzing grew louder and louder. 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, Harry," said Dumbledore. He wasn't smiling.
Harry moved off along the teachers' table. Hagrid was seated right at the end. He
did not wink at Harry, or wave, or give any of his usual signs of greeting. He
looked completely astonished and stared at Harry as he passed like everyone else.
Harry went through the door out of the Great Hall and found himself in a smaller
room, lined with paintings of witches and wizards. A handsome fire was roaring in
the fireplace opposite him.
The faces in the portraits turned to look at him as he entered. He saw a wizened
witch flit out of the frame of her picture and into the one next to it, which
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contained a wizard with a walrus mustache. The wizened witch started whispering
in his ear.
Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory, and Fleur Delacour were grouped around the fire.
They looked strangely impressive, silhouetted against the flames. Krum, hunchedup
and brooding, was leaning against the mantelpiece, slightly apart from the other
two. Cedric was standing with his hands behind his back, staring into the fire.
Fleur Delacour looked around when Harry walked in and threw back her sheet of
long, silvery hair.
"What is it?" she said. "Do zey want us back in ze Hall?"
She thought he had come to deliver a message. Harry didn't know how to explain
what had just happened. He just stood there, looking at the three champions. It
struck him how very tall all of them were.
There was a sound of scurrying feet behind him, and Ludo Bagman entered the
room. He took Harry by the arm and led him forward.
"Extraordinary!" he muttered, squeezing Harry'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 Harry.
Cedric looked nonplussed. He looked from Bagman to Harry and back again as
though sure he must have misheard what Bagman had said. Fleur Delacour,
however, tossed her hair, smiling, and said, "Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester
Bagman."
"Joke?" Bagman repeated, bewildered. "No, no, not at all! Harry's name just came
out of the Goblet of Fire!"
Krum's thick eyebrows contracted slightly. Cedric was still looking politely
bewildered. Fleur frowned.
"But evidently zair 'as been a mistake," she said contemptuously to Bagman. "E
cannot compete. 'E is too young."
"Well. . . it is amazing," said Bagman, rubbing his smooth chin and smiling down
at Harry. "But, as you know, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an
extra safety measure. And as his name's come out of the goblet.. . I mean, I don't
think there can be any ducking out at this stage. . . . It's down in the rules, you're
obliged. . . Harry will just have to do the best he --"
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, and Professor Snape. Harry heard the
buzzing of the hundreds of students on the other side of the wall, before Professor
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McGonagall closed the door.
"Madame Maxime!" said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. "Zey are
saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!"
Somewhere under Harry's numb disbelief he felt a ripple of anger. Little boy?
Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full, and considerable, height. The
top of her handsome head brushed the candle-filled chandelier, and her gigantic
black-satin bosom swelled.
"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" she 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, his steely smile still in place, though his
eyes were colder than ever. "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a
wider selection of candidates from our own schools."
"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.
Professor Dumbledore was now looking down at Harry, who looked right back at
him, trying to discern the expression of the eyes behind the half-moon spectacles.
"Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" he asked calmly.
"No," said Harry. He was very aware of everybody watching him closely. Snape
made a soft noise of impatient disbelief in the shadows.
"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" said
Professor Dumbledore, ignoring Snape.
"No," said Harry vehemently.
"Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" cried Madame Maxime. Snape was now shaking
his head, his lip curling.
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"He could not have crossed the Age Line," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "I
am sure we are all agreed on that -"
"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line," said Madame Maxime,
shrugging.
"It is possible, of course," said Dumbledore politely.
"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" said
Professor McGonagall angrily. "Really, what nonsense! Harry could not have
crossed the line himself, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that he did not
persuade an older student to do it for him, I'm sure that should be good enough for
everybody else!"
She shot a very angry look at Professor Snape.
"Mr. Crouch.. . Mr. Bagman," said Karkaroff, his voice unctuous once more, "you
are our - er - objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?"
Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief and looked at Mr.
Crouch, who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half hidden in
shadow. He looked slightly eerie, the half darkness making him look much older,
giving him an almost skull-like appearance. When he spoke, however, it was in his
usual curt voice.
"We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose
names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."
"Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front," said Bagman, beaming and
turning back to Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, as though the matter was now
closed.
"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," said Karkaroff.
He had dropped his unctuous tone and his smile now. His face wore a very ugly
look indeed. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue
adding names until each school has two champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore."
"But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that," said Bagman. "The Goblet of Fire's just
gone out - it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament -"
"- in which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" exploded
Karkaroff. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little
expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"
"Empty threat, Karkaroff," growled a voice from near the door. "You can't leave
your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding
magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"
Moody had just entered the room. He limped toward the fire, and with every right
step he took, there was a loud clunk.
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"Convenient?" said Karkarof