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╰┈➤ ❝ [𝐹𝐼𝐹𝑇𝐸𝐸𝑁] ❞ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
⁺⤾·˚.⃗.  [ᴍʀ. ᴄᴀsᴀɴᴏᴠᴀ] 𑁍ࠜೄ ･ﾟˊˎ
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Great Hall
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
- Scottish Highlands
( October 5th, 1994. )

               𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐁𝐔𝐙𝐙 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐘, with students from Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang gathered around long tables, all eyes fixed on the flickering blue flames of the Goblet of Fire at the front of the hall. Above them, enchanted candles floated, casting a warm glow over the sea of eager faces. At the head table, Professor Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling with a mix of anticipation and pride, stood and raised his hands to quiet the hall.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, his voice carrying throughout the massive space, "the time has come for the Goblet to reveal our champions. Each name that emerges from the flames has been chosen to represent the courage, resilience, and character of their school. Please, join me in silence as we witness this remarkable moment."

A hush fell over the hall as the Goblet of Fire's blue flames flickered, then burst into bright red and gold. Sparks flew, and a slip of parchment shot out of the flames. Dumbledore caught it deftly, lifting it to read.

"Our first champion," he announced, his voice warm yet commanding, "representing Durmstrang Institute... Viktor Krum!"

The students from Durmstrang let out a roar of excitement, clapping and cheering as Viktor Krum, the famed Seeker, stood up. He moved toward the front of the hall with an air of calm confidence, his dark eyes focused and intense, like a predator about to strike. Viktor had a strong, imposing frame, and his features were rough yet striking, with a heavy brow that cast shadows over his steely gaze. He looked at Dumbledore, gave a single respectful nod, then turned to face the room.

A group of Hogwarts students whispered amongst themselves.

"That's Viktor Krum, the Seeker!" a Gryffindor murmured, sounding awestruck.

"He's already a legend," added another student, their tone tinged with reverence.

Dumbledore waited for the applause to settle before continuing. The Goblet's flames leapt up once more, another slip of parchment emerging. He reached out, plucking it from the air.

"Our second champion," he declared with a smile, "representing Beauxbatons Academy of Magic... Fleur Delacour!"

There was a moment of hushed awe as Fleur rose gracefully from her seat. She seemed to glide toward the front of the hall, her movements smooth and elegant, capturing the attention of every student in the room. Fleur's long, silvery-blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders, framing her flawless face. Her piercing blue eyes shone with a fierce determination, though she wore a delicate, almost ethereal smile. She was the picture of elegance, wrapped in the soft blue robes of Beauxbatons, a stark contrast to the rugged Viktor.

As Fleur took her place beside Krum, whispers broke out once more.

"Is she part Veela?" Elvira asked, her voice tinged with awe. "I've never seen anyone so beautiful."

"Perhaps. I've heard they're quite popular in France." Olympia answered, her eyes scanning over her muggle studies homework - despite the excitement around her.

Elvira rolled her eyes at Olympia's far off nature, beginning to grow more and more annoyed every day with how much of a bore she was becoming.

Dumbledore's voice cut through the murmurs again as the Goblet flared for a third time, and a new slip of parchment flew up into the air. Catching it with practiced ease, he looked down and smiled fondly.

"Our third champion," he announced, "representing Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry... Cedric Diggory!"

A wave of cheers erupted from the Hufflepuff table as Cedric stood up, his friends thumping him on the back and clapping loudly. Cedric Diggory walked forward with a friendly, confident stride, his warm smile beaming as he took in the support from his housemates. He was tall and athletic, with sandy brown hair and a face that seemed both kind and noble. There was a natural strength and steadiness in his demeanor that instantly commanded respect.

Cedric paused near Dumbledore, who gave him an encouraging nod, his eyes glinting with pride.

"Go, Cedric!" someone yelled from the Hufflepuff table.

"Give it your all!" another voice added, and Cedric responded with a grin, clearly humbled by the enthusiastic support from his friends.

Once the applause died down, Dumbledore addressed the champions. "Viktor, Fleur, Cedric," he said, his voice carrying a warm, gentle authority, "I congratulate you on being chosen as champions. You each bear the honor and responsibility of representing not only your school but also the values of unity and friendship that we hold dear. May your courage and resilience guide you through the trials ahead."

As the cheers and applause died down, Olympia, seated at the Ravenclaw table, found herself unable to shake a growing sense of dread. Her eyes were fixed on Cedric, who stood next to Dumbledore, and her usually steady hands fidgeted with the hem of her robes.

Cedric was brave, skilled, and certainly worthy of being chosen as Hogwarts' champion-but that didn't stop her from worrying. She knew the Triwizard Tournament was fraught with danger, and while Cedric exuded calm confidence, she could feel the weight of the risks pressing down on her. Her mind raced, imagining all the treacherous tasks he might face.

Her stomach twisted as Dumbledore's words about courage and resilience echoed in her mind, sounding both inspiring and ominous. The dangerous nature of the tournament, once an abstract concept, now felt all too real. Cedric wasn't just a Hogwarts champion-he was her friend. The thought of anything happening to him made her chest feel tight.

Olympia swallowed, trying to calm herself. He'll be okay, she thought, attempting to convince herself. He's strong, talented, and he has the support of everyone here. Yet, the nervous energy refused to fade.

As Olympia sat in silence, her unease didn't go unnoticed by her friends. Seraphina, seated beside her, leaned in with a concerned expression. "Olympia, are you alright?" she asked softly. "You've been awfully quiet since Cedric's name was called."

"I'm always quiet, as you all so often like to point out." Olympia shot back coldly. They all exchanged slightly hurt looks but brushed it off.

On her other side, Cho gave Olympia a gentle nudge. "Come on Ols be honest with us. You seem a bit... worried. Are you nervous about Cedric competing?"

Elvira, sitting across from her, gave a small nod, her brow furrowed with concern. "It's understandable if you are. The Triwizard Tournament isn't exactly a walk in the park."

Olympia glanced around at her friends, grateful for their support but finding it difficult to put her emotions into words. She took a deep breath, her gaze drifting back to the spot where Cedric had stood. "Yeah," she admitted softly, her voice tinged with worry. "I am nervous. The Triwizard Tournament is... well, it's a dangerous competition. People have-" She paused, swallowing. "People have gotten hurt before. Even worse."

Seraphina placed a comforting hand on Olympia's arm. "I get it. Cedric's your friend. You've been studying the gene nonstop."

Olympia nodded, her fingers still fidgeting with the hem of her robes. "He's smart and capable, and I know he can handle himself... but that doesn't make it any less scary. It's just... knowing what he'll be up against, you know?"

Cho gave her a reassuring smile. "He's got all of us rooting for him, and I'm sure he'll do his best to stay safe. He's not the type to take unnecessary risks."

Elvira chimed in, her voice soft but confident. "He'll be alright, Olympia. He has a good head on his shoulders."

Olympia offered her friends a grateful, if tentative, smile. "Thanks, everyone," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It helps to know I'm not the only one who's worried."

The three girls exchanged warm smiles with her, and Olympia felt a little of the tension in her chest ease. Though her worries lingered, she knew she wasn't alone-and that made all the difference.

At the Gryffindor table, Fred and George sat side by side, still buzzing from the excitement of the Triwizard selection. While Fred was grinning, already chatting with other Gryffindors about the upcoming challenges, George's attention kept drifting to a spot farther down the table.

Marianna Oakes was seated there, glancing his way with a faint smile that seemed just a bit more than friendly. Every time George looked up, her gaze lingered, her expression playful and intrigued. George felt his cheeks warm slightly, unsure of how to react. He raised his eyebrows in mild confusion, then quickly looked away, only to catch her eye again a moment later.

Fred, noticing his twin's distraction, smirked and leaned in. "Oi, George," he whispered, nudging him with an elbow. "What d'you think of Miss Oakes over there making eyes at you, eh?"

George blinked, trying to play it cool despite the slight fluster. He scratched the back of his neck, looking at Fred with a lopsided grin. "I'm... not sure, really. She's, uh..." He hesitated, then let out a chuckle. "Well, she sure isn't bad to look at, if you know what I mean."

Fred burst into a quiet laugh, giving George a teasing grin. "Oh, I know what you mean, alright." He waggled his eyebrows exaggeratedly. "Seems like she's taken a bit of a liking to you, mate. Better not let her down."

George shot Fred a playful glare. "Oh, shove off," he muttered, though he couldn't help the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he glanced Marianna's way again.

Fred just chuckled, throwing an arm around George's shoulder in mock sympathy. "Don't worry, Georgie. I'll give you pointers if you need them," he teased.

George smirked at Fred, rolling his eyes. "Pointers? Please," he scoffed, crossing his arms. "I don't need pointers, mate. Considering I've already shoved my bloody tongue down her throat once, I'd say I know what I'm doing."

Fred's eyes widened in surprise, and then he let out a loud, bark of laughter, earning a few curious glances from the surrounding Gryffindors. "Oh-ho! Well, excuse me, Mr. Casanova!" Fred clapped George on the back. "And here I thought you were all blushes and stammers over her."

George chuckled, his grin turning a bit mischievous. "If I wanted to, I could easily do it again," he said with a shrug, glancing down the table toward Marianna, who was still stealing glances his way.

Fred raised an eyebrow, a mischievous gleam sparking in his eyes. "Alright, then, if you're so confident, go on and prove it," he challenged, smirking as he leaned back with his arms crossed. "Let's see you go over there and plant one on her right here, right now. Show us all this so-called 'confidence' of yours."

George narrowed his eyes at Fred, but his grin didn't falter. "Oh, you think I won't?"

Fred snorted. "I know you won't. Come on, Georgie. You talk big, but you're all bark and no bite when it comes down to it."

George tilted his head, pretending to consider it. "Maybe I don't need to go over there just to prove a point to you, Fred."

Fred just shrugged, his smirk widening. "Aww, backing out already? And here I thought you had this irresistible charm." He chuckled, leaning in to taunt him. "Face it, you're all talk."

George looked at him for a moment, then let out a long-suffering sigh. "Alright, alright. Fine, just watch me." With a quick, self-assured glance down the table at Marianna, George squared his shoulders, preparing to follow through-if only to wipe that smug grin off Fred's face.

Before George could make any move toward proving his point, a sudden, loud whooshing sound interrupted the chatter of the hall. The Goblet of Fire, which had been dim and silent for most of the evening, flared to life once more. The flames inside swirled wildly, throwing bright, shifting colors across the room. The students and staff fell silent, their eyes wide as the magical energy seemed to intensify.

With an almost explosive force, a slip of parchment shot out of the flames and hovered momentarily in midair. It shook slightly, the paper twisting with a faint, eerie sound. Everyone's attention snapped to it, but before anyone could react, the slip of parchment fell into Dumbledore's outstretched hand.

The headmaster's face paled as he read the name aloud, his voice shaky and filled with disbelief.

"Harry Potter," Dumbledore said, his voice carrying through the hall, but with a tone of surprise that made it sound almost like a question.

The students around the hall stared in stunned silence. Gasps echoed from every direction. Fred, George, and the rest of the Gryffindor table exchanged incredulous looks. Harry's name-Harry Potter-had just been selected as a Triwizard Tournament champion.

George's teasing smile dropped, and he leaned back in his seat, now fully focused on the unfolding chaos. Fred, meanwhile, blinked in surprise, his jaw slightly slack.

The entire hall was frozen in stunned shock, but the silence only lasted a moment before the whispers and murmurs began to spread like wildfire.

"Harry Potter?" someone from the Ravenclaw table said in disbelief. "But he's not old enough-he didn't put his name in!"

"Someone must've tricked the Goblet," a Hufflepuff muttered nervously.

Harry, sitting not far from his friends, looked as shocked as everyone else. He stared at the headmaster, clearly confused, his face pale, and his mouth slightly open. He hadn't entered his name-he hadn't even thought about entering-but there it was. His name had been chosen.

Dumbledore looked over at Harry, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "Harry..." he began slowly, his voice quieter now. "Come forward, please."

The room remained eerily still as Harry slowly stood, his heart pounding in his chest. He had no idea what was going on, but he couldn't deny the overwhelming feeling of unease building within him. The whispers grew louder, and he could feel every pair of eyes in the room on him as he made his way to the front, his mind racing.

This was not how the Triwizard Tournament was supposed to work.