On the horizon, a CASTLE appears. The train arrives as it later cuts to the hall. Then four flying horses flew through the air pulling a carriage coming in to land at Hogwarts. The crowds of students cheer.

Hagrid: Clear the runway!

Matthew: Hagrid, duck!

They did as said as Hagrid flew past them.

A large ship emerges from under the water and approaches too.

Matthew: Holy-.

The horn blades out what he was about to say next as the ship arrives at the dock. Inside the great hall, Dumbledore addresses his students.

Dumbledore: Now we're all settled in and sorted, I'd like to make an announcement. This castle will not only be your home this year but hike to some very special guests as well. You see Hogwarts has been chosen...

Filch runs up the aisle limping comically, he whispers something to Dumbledore and leaves in the same fashion.

Dumbledore: So... Hogwarts has been chosen to host a legendary event. The Tri-Wizard tournament. Now for those of you who do not know, the tri-wizard tournament brings together three schools for a series of magical contests. From each school, a single contestant is selected to compete.

Matthew: [quietly] Interesting.

Dumbledore: Now alone. And trust me when I say these contests are not for the faint-hearted, but more of that later.

The doors of the Great Hall open slowly.

Dumbledore: For now please join me in welcoming the lovely ladies of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and their headmistress Madam Maxine.

MUSIC BEGINS, light and fanciful, and Then, one by one, a procession of stunningly beautiful Beauxbatons girls enter the Great Hall gracefully synchronization.

Clad in silky GIRLS, skin-clinging enter in graceful robes, they synchronized, impressing Ron and the other boys. (Hermione is less persuaded.)

Matthew: [blushes] Wow. Bloody hell.

Ron: Ain't hard to forget that.

Then, they release butterflies into the air.

A ten-foot-tall woman walks in.

Seamus: [as the headmistress walks in behind them] Blimey, that's one big woman.

Matthew: No kidding.

Suddenly, one after another, they pitch themselves forward, and CARTWHEEL to the top of the courtyard where they alleyed in a circle, they wait for their last two members: FLEUR DELACOUR, a particularly luminous girl, and her eight-year-old sister Gabrielle, who is her double.

Vaulting side-by-side to the center of the circle, Fleur pulls out a SLICK SCARF, dangles it from her fingertips, and spins Gabrielle like a top. The students[mostly the boys] applauded. Hermione, Pansy, and Ginny not so much.

Dumbledore: And now our friends from the north, please greet the proud sons of Durmstrang and the high master Igor Karkaroff.

A series of older boys walk up the aisle brandishing bo staffs, twirling them around and periodically stabbing them into the ground with a spark effect. Then, they begin their introduction dance.

Then, all of a sudden, Viktor Krum is now here in Hogwarts.

Ron: Blimey, it's him, Viktor Krum!

The boys then breathe fire.

Igor: Albus.

Dumbledore: Igor.

The headmasters embrace each other with a hug. Out in the rain, a mysterious figure steps into a puddle.

Everyone feasts.

Madame Maxime: Professor Dumbly-dorr, my horses have traveled a long way. They will need to attend too.

Dumbledore: Not to worry Madame Maxine, our gamekeeper Hagrid's more than capable of seeing to them.

Madame Maxine: But you know Monsieur Hagrid, they drink only single malt whiskey.

Bewitched by Madame Maxime, Hagrid stares down at the Tall Table where she sits absently spears Professor Flitwick's hand with his fork.

Flintwick: You idiot!

Karkaroff eyes Crouch darkly, then turns and sees that Snape is watching him.

Smiling thinly, Karkaroff tips his goblet. Harry eyes the Ravenclaw table, where the Beauxbatons girls sit and Fleur converses with Cho. Ron stares at Krum, who sits with the Slytherin.

Dumbledore: [standing next to a pillar] Your attention, please! I'd like to say a few words. Eternal glory. That is what awaits the student who wins the tri-wizard tournament. But to do this that student must survive three tasks. Three extremely dangerous tasks.

Fred and George: Wicked.

Dumbledore: You see, the Triwizard Tournament has an unfortunate history of killing off its participants. For this reason. The Ministry has seen fit to impose a new rule. To explain, we have the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Mr. Bartemius Crouch.

Thunder roars overhead, rain begins to leak from the roof, and screams break out. A man stands in the doorway, he casts some magic upwards and seals the roof. Calming down.

As he limps forward all eyes shift to his metal leg while the electric blue eye imbedded in his skull scans the Great Hall warliy.

Ron: Bloody hell. That's Madeye Moody.

Matthew: Who?

Hermione: Alastor Moody? The Auror?

Dean: Auror?

Ron: Dark wizard catcher. Half the cells in Azkaban are filled thanks to him. Supposed to be Mad as a hatter these days though. Sees Death Eaters in his dustbins.

Matthew: Whoa.

Dumbledore: My dear old friend, thanks for coming.

Moody: [shaking hands with Dumbledore] This stupid ceiling.

He reaches for the cup and drinks.

Seamus: What's that he's drinking, do you suppose?

Harry: I don't know, but I don't think it's pumpkin juice.

Matthew: That's something mature people drink at the pub.

Dumbledore: Barty, as you were saying.

Barty Crouch blinks and turns back to the stunned students.

Barty Crouch Sr: After much deliberation, the ministry has concluded that for their safety, no student under the age of seventeen shall be allowed to put forth their name for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. This decision is final.

Fred: What?!

George: That's rubbish!

The students are unsettled.

Dumbledore: SILENCE!

The students went quiet.

Dumbledore: Balthazar, if you would do the honors.

Balthazar: [nodded]

Balthazar casts magic over a box which melds into a goblet containing a blue flame.

Dumbledore: The Goblet of Fire. Anyone wishing to submit themselves for the tournament merely write their name upon a piece of parchment and throw it in the flame before this hour on Thursday night.

Students: [awed]

It was night when the same mysterious person entered the room where the goblet was still burning, closing the door behind him.

The next morning, Moody is teaching Harry and his classmates.

Moody: Alastor Moody. Ex-Auror, Ministry malcontent, and your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I'm here because Dumbledore asked me, end of story, goodbye, the end.

Matthew: Wow. That's... great.

Moody: Any questions? When it comes to the dark arts, I believe in a practical approach. But first, which of you can tell me how many unforgivable curses there are?

The students trade uneasy glances.

Hermione: Three, sir.

Moody: And they are so named?

Hermione: Because they are unforgivable. The use of any one of them will.

Moody: Will earn you a one-way ticket to Azkaban. Correct. Now the ministry says you're too young to see what these curses do. I say different! You need to know, what you're up against! You need to be prepared!

Matthew: Whoa, that's something the Morganians would use.

Seamus quietly puts his gum underneath his desk.

Moody: You need to find somewhere else to put your chewing gum other than the underside of your desk, Mr. Finnigan!

Seamus blinks, caught in the act.

Seamus: Aw. No way. The old codger can see out the back of his head.

Moody throws the chalk at him in anger.

Moody: And hear across the classroom! So, which curse shall we see first? WEASLEY!

Ron: [nervously] Yes.

Moody: Stand. [Ron does so] Give us a curse.

Ron: Well... my dad did tell me about one...

Moody: Hm?

Ron: The imperious curse.

Moody: Oh, yeah, your father would know all about that. Gave the ministry quite a bit of grief a few years ago. Perhaps this will show you why.

He reaches and pulls out a jar with a spider in it, opening it.

Moody: Hello. What a little beauty. Engorgio. Imperio.

Moody enlarges the spider and then levitates it. He waves his wand as the magic is sent across the class.

Moody: Don't worry. Completely harmless. [The class became unsettled] But if she bites, she's lethal!

The spider leaps onto Parvati's shoulder as she SHRIEKS. Draco laughs at Parvati, catching Moody's attention.

Moody: What are you laughing at?

Draco quickly quieted up trying to get the spider off of him. The students laugh as the spider leaps on Matthew.

Matthew: Ahh! Get it off, get it off![trying to get the spider off]

Then, the spider leaps on Cho. She screams as she and her friends try to get the spider off of her. As the students laugh, the spider leaps onto Pansy's head.

Pansy: Eek! Get it off!

Pansy tried to get it off while Astoria was trying to help.

Pansy: Get this eight-legged freak off of me!

Everyone laughed and Matthew stuffed his laughter.

Moody: Talented isn't she? What shall I have her do next? Jump out the window?

The spider jumps off of Pansy and goes to Moody, allowing him to drop the bucket of water wriggling.

Moody: Drown herself?

One by one, the students' smiles dry up.

Moody: Scores of witches and wizards have claimed that they only do did you-know-whose bidding under the influence of the imperious curse.

He scans the forest of hands when his eye lands on Neville.

Moody: But here's the rub, how do we sort out the liars? Another... Another... Come on, come on. Longbottom, is it? Up.

Neville gets up.

Moody: Professor Sprout tells me you have an aptitude for herbology.

Neville: [nods] There's the um... The cruciatus curse.

Moody: Correct! Correct! Come come. Particularly nasty. The torture curse.

Moody steps forward, looming over Neville, and drops the spider onto his desk.

Moody: Crucio!

He uses his magic on the spider, as it squeals. The spider TWITCHES, legs TREMBLING VIOLENTLY. Μoudy stands utterly motionless, eyes fixed on Neville, who seems transfixed by the spider's misery.

Hermione's eyes drift from the spider to Neville's hands, which are CLENCHING the corners of his desk so hard his knuckles are turning white.

Hermione: Stop it! Can't you see it's bothering him?! Stop it!

Finally... Moody drops his wand. The room is silent

Moody: Perhaps you could give us the last Unforgivable Curse, Miss Granger.

Hermione glances at Neville and shakes her head.

Moody: Mr. Stutler?

Matthew looks at the others as if they are in a sign of pleading to not do it.

Matthew: [shook his head]

Moody: No. Alright. Avada Kedavra!

He fires a spell, hitting the spider as it disintegrates.

Moody: The killing curse. There is no blocking it. Only one person is known to have survived it. And he's sitting in this room.

As the others turn their eyes on him, Harry looks up and sees Moody studying him. Moody's tongue nervously probes the corner of his mouth as he takes out his flask and turns away. Harry's eyes drop to the spider. Motionless.

Harry, Ron, Matthew, and Hermione drift from class.

Ron: Brilliant, isn't he? Completely demented, of course, and terrifying to be in the same room with, but he's been there, y'know? He's looked evil in the eye.

Matthew: That guy is insane when it comes to spells like this.

Hermione: I think he's cruel. Did you see Neville? I thought he was going to...

They see Neville on the stairs, staring at the window.

Hermione: Neville?

Matthew: Hey man, what's wrong?

Moody limps past them and places a hand on Neville's shoulder.

Moody: It's alright, Sonny. You come with me. We'll have a cup of tea in my office.

As Moody leads Neville away, Harry and the others head off themselves. CAMERA PUSHES IN ON THE WINDOW where Neville had stood. Set within the pane is an ANCIENT WITCH fashioned out of BLUE GLASS, her "skin" running with RAIN. A TINY FISSURE mars the GLASS below one eye. She looks to be crying.

We start HIGH OVER the courtyard, where a BITTER WIND sweeps CRYSTALLINE SHEETS of RAIN from the roof below, Cedric Diggory comes INTO VIEW and dashes toward the Great Hall.

The GOBLET flickers eerily at the top of the hall. A group of underclassmen Harry, Matthew, and Ron stand by as their older classmates submit their names. Hermione clutches a copy of Triwizard Tragedies.

Ron: Eternal glory, be brilliant, wouldn't it? In three years from now, we'll be old enough to be chosen.

Matthew: I can see myself now.

Harry: Yeah well, rather you guys than me.

Harry grins and Ron and Matthew nod knowingly. Just then, Fred and George come striding forth, looking very pleased indeed.

George: Thank you, thank you, well lads, we've done it.

Fred: Cooked it up just this morning.

Hermione: [in & sing-song voice] It's not going to work...

Everyone turns. Hermione flips a page in her book.

Fred: Oh yeah?

George: And why's that Granger?

Hermione: [pointing at the line around the cup] You see this? This is an age line. Dumbledore drew it himself.

Matthew: Actually, Hermione, Balthazar drew the line himself.

Hermione: Right.

Fred: So?

Hermione: [scoffs] So a genius like Balthazar couldn't possibly be fooled by something pathetically dimwitted such as an age potion.

George: That's why it's so brilliant.

Fred: 'Cause it's so pathetically dimwitted.

Matthew: Fred. George. Don't do it.

Fred and George: Try us, Matt.

They pull out bottles.

George: [hooking his arm around his twin's] Ready Fred?

Fred: [doing the same] Ready George?

Fred and George: Bottoms up.

They drank it and jumped into the circle, and everyone cheered.

They put their names in the flame and do a high-five. Everyone cheers for them.

Matthew: Uh oh.

The fire suddenly zaps both of them, out of the circle.

Matthew: [to his classmates] I warned them.

When they get up they have full heads of grey hair and beards.

George: You said...

Fred: You said...

They start to fight each other.

Students: [chanting] Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!

The door opens as they stop chanting. They see Viktor Krum entered in. He drops his name, glances at her, briefly, then lowers his head and inches away.

Hermione watches. Briefly, then turns back to her bock. As Viktor walks, he looks at Matthew and notices the Dragon Ring on Matthew's finger. Matthew tilts his head in confusion at his stare.

Viktor: You there. You're him, are you? The Prime Merlinean.

Matthew: [looks at his ring] Well, I am wearing it, so yeah, I am the Prime Merlinean.

Viktor: I must say. It's an honor to meet you.[shakes Matthew's hand]

Matthew: Thanks.

Matthew shakes back as they are surprised to see them interact. Viktor left the Great Hall.

Ron: I can't believe he talked to you, and shake your hand.

Matthew: I can't believe it either.

Everyone was gathered in the room while the goblet was still there.

Dumbledore: Sit down, please. And now the moment you've all been waiting for, the champions' selection!

Dumbledore approaches the blue flame and it glows red. A name comes out. Everyone looks on anxiously.

Dumbledore: The Durmstrang champion is... Viktor Krum!

The Durmstrang crowd cheers; another name comes out.

Dumbledore: The champion from Beauxbatons... Fleur Delacour!

The Beauxbatons girls cheer as Fleur walks up. Another name comes out.

Dumbledore:The Hogwarts champion... Cedric Diggory.

Hogwarts pupils cheer as Cedric takes the stage.

Dumbledore: Excellent! We now have our three champions! But in the end, only one will go down in history. Only one will hoist this chalice of champions, this vessel of victory the Tri-Wizard Cup!

The covers were unveiled to show the said cup which was magnificent in appearance.

Suddenly, a collective GASP cuts Dumbledore short: the Flames in the Goblet of Fire have, once more, turned RED.

Moody's eye rotates. A fourth shred of PARCHMENT flutters forth. For a moment, Dumbledore simply lets it float in the air, regarding it suspiciously, then he takes it.

Dumbledore: "Harry Potter"?

Dumbledore was confused at first and then he announced the name.

Dumbledore: Harry Potter.

Hagrid: No... No.

Balthazar: That's not possible.

Dumbledore: Harry Potter!

Hermione Come on Harry. Harry, for goodness sake.

Harry rises stiffly and begins the slow walk past the house tables. As he comes level with the Tall Table, he catches sight of Dumbledore. He is not smiling.

He handed the paper to Harry, who looked in shock, walking back to the table. Suddenly... Another flame goes up, catching everyone by surprise to see another happening. The flame turned red and then... it turned green.

It later spawns another shred of parchment, slowly falling as Balthazar catches it.

Balthazar: Matthew Stutler.

Everyone was surprised to hear it, especially Matthew himself.

Seamus: Go on, Matt. Go on.

Matthew gets up as he heads up, Balthazar hands him the parchment. Harry and Matthew look at each other as they walk to the Trophy Room.

Male Student #1: They're cheats!

Male Student #2: They're not even seventeen yet!

Harry and Matthew are in the trophy room with the other champions. They hear their respective headmasters from the entrance.

Maxine: It's wrong, It's wrong, I tell you!

Igor: You French tart. Everything is a conspiracy theory to you!

Dumbledore: Quiet I can't think!

Igor: Everything is a conspiracy theory!

Dumbledore: Harry! Matthew!

Dumbledore runs over and grabs Harry by the neck of his shirt.

Maxine: I protest

Dumbledore: Harry! Did you and Matthew put your names in the Goblet of Fire?

Harry and Matthew: No sir.

Dumbledore: Did you ask one of the older students to do it for you?

Harry and Matthew: No sir.

Balthazar: Are you sure?

Matthew: Yes, this time I'm not lying.

Harry: We are sure.

Dumbledore: You two are absolutely sure?

Harry and Matthew: Yes sir.

Madame Maxine: Ah, but of course they're lying!

Moody: The hell he is. The Goblet of Fire is an exceptionally powerful magical object. Only an exceptionally powerful Confundus Charm could have hoodwinked it. Magic beyond the talents of any Fourth Year.

Igor: You seem to have given this a fair bit of thought, Mad-Eye.

Moody: It was once my job to think as dark wizards do Karkaroff perhaps you remember?

Dumbledore: That doesn't help Alastor. Leave this to you, Barty.

Crouch stands by the fire, staring into the flames blankly, face cast in eerie half-shadow. Moody's blue eye vibrates with strange intensity as he considers the older man.

Barty Crouch Sr: The rules are absolute. The Goblet of Fire constitutes a binding magical contract. Mr. Potter and Mr. Stutler had no choice. They are, as of tonight, Triwizard Champions.

That said, causes the two to look at each other with worry. The dark castle stands solemnly in the punishing rain. One light burns in an upper window. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Balthazar, and Moody meet. Dumbledore stands before an open CABINET, staring into a SHALLOW STONE BASIN which whirls with LIQUID LIGHT.

Professor McGonagall: This can't go on, Albus. First the Dark Mark, now this?

Dumbledore: What do you suggest, Minerva?

Professor McGonagall: Put an end to it. Don't let Potter and Stutler compete.

Balthazar: You heard Barty. The rules are clear...

Professor McGonagall: Well the devil with Barty and his rules. And since when did you accommodate them?

Snape: I must say, Headmaster, I too find it difficult to believe this mere coincidence. However, if we're to truly discover the meaning of these events, we may have to simply for the time being let them unfold.

Balthazar: Where are you going with this?

Professor McGonagall: Do nothing? Offer them up as bait? Potter and Stutler are boys, not two pieces of meat.

Dumbledore: I agree. With Severus. However... I'd like you and Balthazar to keep an eye on Harry and Matthew, Alastor.

Moody rotates his blue eye onto Dumbledore, and smiles wryly:

Balthazar: We shall, Dumbledore.

Dumbledore: But they mustn't know. I expect they're feeling anxious enough as it is, thinking of what lies ahead. Then again... I suppose we all are.

Gently, Dumbledore touches his wand to his temple, extracts a GLISTENING SILVER THREAD, and casts it into the basin. He closes the cabinet doors, PUTTING US IN TOTAL DARKNESS. Only the DRUMMING of the RAIN remains.

In the boys' dorm room.

Ron: How'd you two do it?

Harry and Matthew turn, eyes the back of Ron's head.

Ron: Never mind. Doesn't matter. Might've let me know, though.

Matthew: Let you know what?

Ron: You know bloody hell what.

Harry: We didn't ask for this to happen, Ron. Okay? You're being stupid.

Matthew: As always.

Ron: That's me. Ron Weasley. A stupid friend of Harry Potter and Matthew Stutler.

Harry: We didn't put our names in the Cup! We don't want eternal glory! We just want to be...

Harry stops and frowns.

Matthew: Look, we don't know what happened tonight. And we don't know why. It just... did. Okay?

The darkness CRACKLES with silence. Then...

Ron: Piss off.

Matthew and Harry were shocked to hear him say it but decided to leave him alone.

End of Chapter 32