/ - / - / - /
Harry could feel the multitude of eyes that were focused solely on him, every last of them either staring at him in bewilderment, sympathy or anger. He tried to move when Bagman motioned for the champions to follow him out of the Great Hall, but his legs felt like they were in a body-bind. They moved with the speed of lead weights as he slowly drudged forward, trying desperately not to feel the stares as they bored a hole through the back of his head.
The walk out of the Great Hall was one that permeated with silence. Harry hung his head slightly, while Viktor glared at him from behind. Cedric had a worried look on his face while Fleur looked at Harry with a mixture of anger and wonder. The four champions remained silent as they were led to a room a few doors down from the rear entrances to the Great Hall, a sort of staff lounge that Harry had never been in before. Bagman and Crouch each paced back and forth, trying to think to themselves how this might have happened. It didn't take long before the door to the room swung wide open.
"Zis iz an outrage!" Madam Maxime screamed as she stormed into the room. "Zis is not in ze rules. You have rigged zis competition Monsieur Bagman!"
"I assure Madame," Ludo said quietly, "That I have done nothing of the sort. I have no earthly idea how this happened."
"Of course you don't," came a brutish voice from the entryway. Ludo closed his eyes and turned on his heel, staring straight at Igor Karkaroff, whose eyes were blazing with an angry inferno. "Isn't it convenient ve vould meet, so many years later after…our little disagreement? And then it vould be you once more in the center of controversy!"
"That's enough Karkaroff!" Igor snarled and turned to face Alastor Moody, who hobbled into the room, taking a swig from a hip flask as he did so. "Bagman had nothing to do with what happened here. He wouldn't be capable of such a thing." Behind Moody came a rather perplexed Albus Dumbledore, a seemingly disinterested Severus Snape, and a rather frantic Minerva McGonagall, who shut the door behind them.
"Vell if Bagman had nothing to do with this," Karkaroff alleged, turning his anger towards Harry, "Then he must be the one who did! It vas his name the Goblet called out…he must have bewitched it!"
"I didn't!" Harry exclaimed in his defense, standing up a little straighter. "You think I want to be in this stupid tournament!?" Karkaroff shirked back, but quickly moved a bit closer to Harry.
"It vould be just like you…to want the spotlight to alvays shine on you…." Much to Harry's surprise, Cedric moved between him and Karkaroff, staring at the Durmstrang Headmaster with utter contempt.
"If Harry says he had nothing to do with it," Cedric said flatly, "Then he had nothing to do with it."
Viktor violently spun Cedric around, and the two of them stared straight into each other's eyes. "Nobody asked for your opinion," Viktor said coldly, and Cedric answered him right back.
"Nor yours," he stated, keeping his hand firmly nestled next to his wand. Harry felt the tension rise in the room, and moved his arm in front of Cedric to hold him back from any possible confrontation.
"Thanks for defending me," he whispered to the older Hufflepuff as Viktor too backed down. Harry looked away and then towards Albus Dumbledore, who looked down at the floor. "Sir, you have to believe me." Harry pleaded, "I have no idea what happened in there."
"I believe you Harry," Dumbledore said quietly, before looking up, staring straight at him through his half-moon spectacles. "But I must ask you one time…for my own peace of mind…Did you place your name…or did you have one of the older students place your name in that Goblet?"
"No sir," Harry said, still a bit shocked as to the whole ordeal. Dumbledore nodded his head, and turned towards Bagman.
"Vell of courze you would believe him," Olympe shouted again, causing Dumbledore to sadly look at her. "He iz your prized student!"
"If Professor Dumbledore says that Potter had nothing to do with it," Snape said calmly, causing everyone to look at him in surprise, especially Harry, as he echoed Cedric's words from before, "Then he had nothing to do with it."
"And ve should believe you?" Karkaroff yelled in question. "Are you not also the boy's teacher?"
"I assure you Igor," Snape said with utter contempt, "That any perceived bias you think I have for Mr. Potter is gravely overestimated." Harry internally breathed a tiny sigh of relief at that news. Things were going way to weird on that front to even contemplate at the given moment.
"It's simple why Potter couldn't have done it," Moody chimed in.
"Oh really," Karkaroff asked sarcastically, moving towards the retired Auror. "And why exactly would you know how to accomplish a feat such as this?"
"I'm paid to know these things Karkaroff," Moody spat out, a tiny bit of spittle landing on the headmaster's robes, "Lest you forget what happened fifteen years ago." Igor's face suddenly blanked and he shrank back from confrontation. Moody then turned to Bagman. "Remind us again how the Goblet works."
"It's charmed to pick only three students," Bagman said firmly. "That's what so confusing about this. It should be mathematically impossible for such a thing to happen. It will only pick one student for each…." he suddenly stopped, realization dawning on him.
"For each school." Moody finished, looking towards Harry. "Someone must have used a powerful confundus charm to trick the cup into thinking that there were four schools instead of three. A charm like that would be well beyond the abilities of a fourth year, even one as talented as Mr. Potter. Subsequently, that same person must have cast Potter's name into the Goblet as a member of that fourth school."
"Thus ensuring that he would be selected," Dumbledore said in understanding.
"It's all a moot point really," Professor McGonagall said flatly, "Mr. Potter is not of age and was erroneously entered. It's obvious he was entered against his will, so he should not compete."
"I'm afraid it's not that simple Minerva." Everyone turned towards Crouch, who had been surprisingly quiet during the whole affair. He turned back towards the group, his face a ghostly white as he delivered the news. "The rules are quite clear on this matter, once the Goblet has chosen a participant, they must compete or they will forfeit their life."
"But I didn't put my name in the Goblet," Harry said once more, his mind sinking into a deeper despair. "Surely you can't force someone who didn't put their name into the Goblet to participate!"
"Normally you would be correct, Mr. Potter," Crouch explained. "Normally the Goblet would not select someone who did not willingly enter. But these are special circumstances. Since the Goblet was hexed into thinking that there were four schools, and you were the only entrant for the fourth school, it had no choice but to pick you as a champion…regardless of your intent."
"But he's only a boy!" McGonagall feverishly exclaimed. "You cannot possibly expect him to compete!"
"It's out of our hands…unless Mr. Potter wishes to forfeit his life. Whether by his will or not…as of tonight…Harry Potter is a Triwizard champion."
/ - / - / - /
Harry slowly walked back to Gryffindor tower, not looking at anyone who might've passed him in the hallways. His mind was overwhelmed with a combination of muddled thoughts and waking nightmares.
The year had been going so well too.
He quietly made his way towards the Fat Lady and muttered the password under his breath. Much to his chagrin as he walked through the portrait hole, the various people in the common room all stopped their mingling and turned straight towards him. The majority of them simply glared straight at him, not sparing him a second glance and heading towards their respective dorm rooms. Harry half-expected this kind of reaction, having dealt with the whole Heir of Slytherin business. Still, the rejection hit a nerve deep within. With a sullen look on his face he walked over to the couch, oblivious to everyone else in the room.
Hermione looked at him out of the small corner where she was frantically searching for any information concerning the Triwizard tournament from her trusty copy of Hogwarts: A History. She bit her bottom lip in worry and slowly sat her book down. She walked over and sat next to him, offering what support she could. Her mind told her that there was no way that Professor Dumbledore could allow the tournament to go on with Harry competing in it. The look on Harry's face crushed her grandest hopes and revived her deepest fears. She was about to say something, when she heard a scoff in the background. She turned her head, and much to her surprise saw Ron grinning at them.
"Ron this is serious," she said harshly, and Ron clasped his hands together as he walked forward, rounding the couch and leaning against the fireplace, his rage held only in check by his sarcastic demeanor.
"Of course it is Hermione," he replied with mock sincerity, before turning towards Harry, his anger showing itself full bore. "You know if you were going to hoodwink the entire school like that, the least you could have done was let me in on it." Harry looked at him, his own temper flaring up at the accusation.
"I didn't put my name into the Goblet Ron!" he shouted, standing up to confront his friend. "I didn't think I'd have to explain that to you of all people!"
"Of course you shouldn't have to," Ron shot back. "I'm just poor old Ron Weasley, Harry Potter's tag-along friend."
"No one is saying that," Hermione said firmly, standing up next to Harry.
"Taking his side again eh? Typical. The way you two have been getting on."
"What are you talking about Ron?" Harry asked, still close to a boiling point.
"As if you don't know. But that's only one issue out of many isn't it." He stopped and chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he continued. "It's never enough for you is it? It's not enough that you have all the money in the world…it's not enough that every witch and wizard in this whole stinkin country knows your name. You have to have everything you can get your grubby mits on. And me? Your best mate? What do I get…whatever scraps you throw me."
Harry clenched his fist and took two steps forward, glaring a hole straight into Ron. "Look, I don't know what happened tonight, and I certainly don't know what the hell has gotten into you, but it's time you grew up." His fist started shaking as tears leaked out of his eyes in a mixture of sadness, frustration, and anger. "You have no idea how lucky you are to have had a family your whole life Ron. I would give every last knut to my name just to spend five minutes with my mum and dad!"
Ron never flinched, staring right back at Harry and leaning forward as he did so. "Yeah, I bet you would." He moved his face inches away from Harry's glare. "Your parents would be ashamed of you Potter."
"RON!" Hermione shouted, and she quickly moved to try and hold back Harry from unleashing a series shot to his friend's head. Ron simply snickered and turned to walk away.
"Piss off, the both of you…" he said callously, before he exited the common room.
Harry stood their, his fist clenched and beads of sweat pouring off of his brow. "Ignore him Harry," Hermione said softly, rubbing his back in a calming motion. "He's just being a bloody git." Harry took a deep breath and nodded, sitting himself back down and trying to calm down from the fight.
"He has no idea…" Harry quietly repeated, and Hermione shushed him, simply allowing him to vent slightly as the adrenaline slowly ebbed out of his body. Harry then turned towards Hermione, offering a bit of a smile.
"I believe you Harry," Hermione assured him.
"I know," Harry said appreciatively, "You don't have to tell me. I just know." Hermione smiled, and Harry could feel his heartbeat once again increase in intensity. "I'd better get some sleep," he said as strongly as he could, "Early class tomorrow." He looked up the stairs with an anxious glance. "I suppose no one up there believes me."
"It doesn't matter Harry," she replied in a soothing voice. "Together…you and I…I know we can make it through this. With…or without Ron."
"Yeah," Harry replied, somewhat unconvinced. He turned back to Hermione, gazing deep into her eyes, and nearly got lost in their richness. Before he left the couch, he felt an incredible urge that he couldn't explain, coming from the base of his gut and overwhelming his very senses. Slowly he embraced Hermione in a loving hug, feeling her warmth against his body. Hermione was initially surprised by this; Harry rarely showed this much affection. But she quickly found herself returning the hug with equal sincerity. Harry then pulled away, staring at her and patting her on the back of her head, before he quietly kissed her on the forehead. Before Hermione's mind could register what had just happened, Harry was up the stairs and headed towards bed. Hermione merely sat on the couch, nearly overcome with emotion and excitement, and she cautiously touched the spot on her forehead where Harry's lips had made contact.
/ - / - / - /
The sun beat down on Harry as he stood near the lakeside, documenting some of the plants that grew there for herbology class. To be quiet honest however, plants were certainly the furthest thing from his mind.
He wasn't quite sure what had come over him the night before with Hermione. The lingering moments after he had kissed her in a friendly way was a feeling that couldn't be described simply in words. It was joy, it was caring, it was love…every positive emotion he could come up with would be a semi-accurate description of the feelings he had in that one encapsulated moment. It both elated him, and frightened him at the same time.
Hermione had been relatively quiet the next morning, leading Harry to worry that maybe he had gone too far. Maybe any lingering feelings they had for one another was just friendship, a sort of brotherly and sisterly affection that had been etched into stone. It was a line that, perhaps, he had unknowingly crossed the night previous.
"Harry?" Harry shook himself out of his stupor and looked over at Neville, who was looking up at him with something akin to wonder. "You alright there?"
"Yeah," Harry replied, "Just thinking that's all."
"I'm sure you have a lot on your mind," Neville said, almost half-jokingly. He paused for a moment before turning back to Harry, "You know…I believe you…for whatever its worth." Harry's eyes went wide and he smiled appreciatively at his more timid friend. "I mean…you'd have to be barmy to put your name in the Goblet of Fire."
"Thanks Neville," Harry whispered, smiling down at his friend. "That really does mean a lot." Harry turned back to the plants, and his mind began to wander again. For some reason it wandered back to the Prophecy that Dumbledore had talked about at the beginning of term, and how it might have affected Neville as well. "Neville," Harry asked cautiously, "I know you live with your Gran but…what happened to your parents…if you don't mind me asking?"
Neville stopped fishing around in the water and sat there for a long time. "I'm sorry," Harry quickly said, apologizing profusely. "I didn't mean to hurt you or anything…I was just…curious."
"It's alright Harry," Neville quietly said, going back to his work. "I'll tell you some other time, when we have more time to talk it through." Harry nodded and knelt down next to Neville, noting some of the plants along with his partner. He heard a solemn hoot from overhead however, and instantly recognized Hedwig flying in from the south. Harry stood up and held out his arm for the bird, smiling at her after not having seen her for a while. Hedwig nipped at him playfully before holding out her leg, which had a letter taped to it. Harry took the letter and Hedwig flew off towards the owlry, eager to get her dinner and some much needed rest. Harry looked at the front of the letter, and almost instantly recognized the sprawling handwriting of his godfather.
"Who sent you the letter Harry?" Neville asked, not looking up from his plants. Harry quickly pocketed the letter and moved back to the water's edge.
"No one," he said firmly, "Just a friend I know from home."
A/N: I hope that little taste of things to come as far as H/Hr goes makes the long wait worth it. Uggh I have been real bad about updating this fic. I can't promise I'll do better, just that I'll endeavor to do so.