The Goblet of Fire | Hermione Granger x Male Reader (Book Four)

13. The Hogwarts Champions

Y/N's POV

That whole night all I could hear was everyone talking about how much they wanted to be in the Triwizard Tournament. I silently thought to myself, what would happen if I was the champion for Hogwarts? Would people notice me? Would I finally stand out as more than just Harry Potter's friend? All these thoughts swarmed my mind but finally disappeared once I drifted to sleep.

The next morning, when we went down into the entrance hall, we saw about twenty people milling around it, some of them eating toast, all examining the goblet. It had been placed in the centre of the hall on the stool that normally bore the Sorting Hat. A thin golden line had been traced on the floor, forming a circle ten feet around it in every direction.

"Anyone put their name in yet?" Ron asked a third year girl eagerly.

"All the Durmstrang lot," she replied, "but I haven't seen anyone from Hogwarts yet."

"Bet some of them put it in last night after we'd all gone to bed," said Harry, "I would've if it had been me...wouldn't have wanted everyone watching. What if the goblet just gobbed you right back out again?"

Someone laughed behind us. Turning, we saw Fred, George, Issac and Lee Jordan hurrying down the staircase, all four of them looking extremely excited.

"No way is Issac entering." I muttered, I turned to look at my older brother, giving him a disapproving look that also had a hint of admiration. He was of age, he was the oldest of the group and could enter without the age potion.

"Done it," Fred said in a triumphant whisper to us, "just taken it."

"What?" said Ron.

"The Aging Potion, dung brains," said Fred.

"One drop each," said George, rubbing his hands together with glee, "we only need to be a few months older."

"We're going to split the thousand Galleons between the four of us if one of us wins," said Issac, grinning broadly.

"Issac?" Hermione said surprised. "You're not really going to drink it are you?"

Issac looked at Hermione. "Nah, I'm old enough actually, I don't need it."

I looked at my older brother with some concern. "Do mum and dad know?"

Issac shrugged. "I'll tell them if I'm picked"

"Ready?" Fred said to Lee and Geroge, quivering with excitement. "I'll go first."

I watched, fascinated, as Fred pulled a slip of parchment out of his pocket bearing the words Fred Weasley - Hogwarts. Fred walked right up to the edge of the line and stood there, rocking on his toes like a diver preparing for a fifty-foot drop. Then, with the eyes of every person in the entrance hall upon him, he took a great breath and stepped over the line.

For a split second I thought it had worked - George certainly thought so, for he let out a yell of triumph and leapt after Fred - but next moment, there was a loud sizzling sound, and both twins were hurled out of the golden circle as though they had been thrown by an invisible shot-putter. They landed painfully, ten feet away on the cold stone floor, and to add insult to injury, there was a loud popping noise, and both of them sprouted identical long white beards.

The entrance hall rang with laughter. Even Fred and George joined in, once they had gotten to their feet and taken a good look at each other's beards.

"I did warn you," said a deep, amused voice, and everyone turned to see Professor Dumbledore coming out of the Great Hall. He surveyed Fred and George, his eyes twinkling, "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours."

Fred and George set off for the hospital wing, accompanied by Lee. Issac laughed at his two best friends before quickly walking to the goblet and dropping his own name in almost carelessly.

Later, just before the selection of the champions, we were all discussing the Hogwarts students who had potentially entered. So far I had heard the names, Issac, Angelina, Cedric and Warrington (the Slytherin Quidditch captain)

The Halloween feast seemed to take much longer than usual. Like everyone else in the Hall, judging by the constantly craning necks, the impatient expressions on every face, the fidgeting, and the standing up to see whether Dumbledore had finished eating yet, I simply wanted the plates to clear, and to hear who had been selected as champions.

At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state; there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall, which died away almost instantly as Dumbledore got to his feet. On either side of him, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Ludo Bagman was beaming and winking at various students. Mr Crouch, however, looked quite uninterested, almost bored.

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore, "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber." he indicated the door behind the staff table, "where they will be receiving their first instructions."

He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting...a few people kept checking their watches.

The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it - the whole room gasped.

Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."

"No surprises there!" yelled Ron as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. I saw Viktor Krum rise from the Slytherin table and slouch up toward Dumbledore.

The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused again on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"

"It's her, Ron!" Harry shouted as the girl who so resembled a veela got gracefully to her feet, shook back her sheet of silvery blonde hair, and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.

When Fleur Delacour too had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement you could almost taste it. The Hogwarts champion next...

And the goblet turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.

"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Y/N L/N!"

I clapped eagerly, thinking that Issac's name had been called but it seemed like I was the only one clapping.

Hermione had a grave expression on her face and both Ron and Harry looked shocked.

I didn't get up and move because another piece of parchment shot out the goblet. Dumbledore grabbed it, obviously confused.

"Harry Potter."