MISCHIEF MANAGED// FRED WEASLEY X READER

022. The Fourth Champion

Fred's disclaimer: No. 

"This is the moment you've all been waiting for," Dumbledore's voice reverberated around the Great Hall and he gave a grand sweep of his hands. "The competitors of the Triwizard Tournament are about to be announced."

Fred and George gave glum looks towards the podium, and Ron took another gulp of pumpkin juice.

"Sucks that we couldn't even have the chance," George muttered darkly, stirring his soup aimlessly. "I mean, what's so good about being 17?"

Ron nodded sadly. "A thousand galleons..."  The look of whist upon his face almost made me feel bad for him, and then I remembered the death toll.

"People have died, you know," Hermione pointed out, echoing my thoughts. "It's not just a big prize. There's a cost."

Dumbledore stood in front of the giant Goblet which had just begun to flame. Great orange, blue and red flames erupted, sending tiny sparks into the ceiling.

"Once the champions have been chosen, they will make their way to the chamber behind the Hall to await further instructions." Dumbledore smiled benignly, as the Goblet shone brighter than before.

A small slip of paper flew out of the fire and he caught it cleanly in his left hand.

"The Champion for Beauxbatons will be--Fleur Delacour!"

One of the girls from Beauxbatons, the one with particularly shimmery blonde hair smiled widely, standing from the table and walking through to the chamber.

Clapping erupted from the four tables, though I noticed a few of her fellow classmates looked slightly mutinous. One had promptly started crying.

"The Champion for Durmstrang is--Viktor Krum!" Dumbledore said, reading the next slip of paper.

"No surprise there," Ron said, pounding his hands together. Viktor Krum stood from his table, giving Hermione a quick nod as he walked by. "What was that for?"

Hermione shrugged.

"And the Champion for Hogwarts will be--" Everyone gasped as two names flew out of the Goblet at once. One of them, Dumbledore caught, and the other floated to the floor.

There were mutters from all sides of the room as Dumbledore picked up the stray piece of paper.

"Cedric Diggory," Dumbledore said, reading the first slip. "And--Y/N Potter."

No. Way.

Cedric, after being congratulated by his table members, looked shocked at hearing my name. He turned to look at me, confusion on his face.

I'm sure mine looked exactly the same.

I didn't put my name in.

"Y/N. No."

The voice came from across the table, and I was certain it was said inside his head. Fred's face was a mask of shock, and maybe...concern.

"Y/N Potter?" Dumbledore said, as whispers broke out amongst the crowd. "Will you two make your way up here?"

"I didn't put my name in," I said, mostly to myself. "I swear."

Harry and Ron wore identical expressions of surprise. 

Cedric tried to catch my attention as I grabbed the slip of paper from Dumbledore's hand. It wasn't even my writing.

Dumbledore said nothing to me as I followed Cedric into the room.

"Y/N?" uttered Cedric, as he turned to face me. "How did--what--?"

"I didn't put my name in," I said dully. "I didn't."

"Then how--"

"Extraordinary!" Ludo Bagman said as he stode into the room. He patted my arm, pulling Cedric and I towards the fire to join the other champions. "A fourth champion!"

Viktor Krum straightened up. His surly face darkened as he surveyed me, and slight recognition cam across his face. Cedric looked nonplussed. He looked from Bagman to me 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! Y/N'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. "She cannot compete. She is too young."

I almost wanted to roll my eyes, but I was in still too much shock. 

The door behind us 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. I could hear the buzzing of the hundreds of students on the other side of the wall, before Professor McGonagall closed the door.

"Madame Maxime!" said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. "Zey are saying zat zis little girl is to compete also!"

Excuse me, but I'm only two years younger than you. 

Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full, and considerable, height.

"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."

"This is hardly Y/N's fault," Snape said, much to my surprise. 

Since when does Snape stand up for me? 

Professor Dumbledore merely nodded, peering at me from behind his half-moon glasses. 

"Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire, Y/N?" He asked calmly. 

"No," I said, shaking my head. 

"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" said Professor Dumbledore. 

"No." 

"But she is obviously lying!" cried Madame Maxime. Snape was now shaking his head, his lip curling.

"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! Y/N could not have crossed the line herself, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that she did not persuade an older student to do it for her, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!"

"Can I go now?" I asked quietly. 

No one answered me.