Seventh Time's the Charm

Chapter 3 - War and Peace

The Great Hall was filled with an eerie, shocked silence.

"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore repeated, louder this time.

Hermione gave Harry a slight nudge as she released his hand, flashing him a sympathetic look. With a deep sigh, he rose from his seat. His footsteps echoed throughout the room as he made a beeline for the door at the rear of the Great Hall. As Harry walked straight past him, Dumbledore's face was expressionless, and the twinkle in his eye glimmered solemnly.

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"So," Cedric said, smiling slightly as he and Harry walked back from the champions room. "I guess we're gonna be playing against each other this year too."

Harry exhaled loudly. He certainly wasn't in the mood for this, especially not after the rather draining conversation in the champions' meeting room following his selection. At least Dumbledore was still calm and understanding this time around.

"I didn't put my name in the Goblet Cedric," Harry said to the older boy beside him.

Cedric looked at him skeptically.

"But your name came- " he started before Harry cut him off.

"I almost die every year and I'm already too famous for my liking," Harry explained. "Why would I willingly enter myself in the tournament?"

Cedric seemed to consider this as the two reached the entrance hall. After a while, he nodded.

"I suppose that makes sense," he mused, rubbing his chin. "You'd better be careful though. If whoever entered you wants you dead..." Cedric's voice trailed off.

"I'm rather used to it at this point," Harry muttered.

They reached the marble staircase where their paths diverged.

"Well... I guess I'll see you then," Cedric said, making for the door to the side.

"See you later Cedric," Harry said.

The Fat Lady's portrait swung open to let Harry into the Gryffindor common room. He was instantly met with an explosion of noise as the entire Gryffindor house faced him, screaming and applauding wildly.

Fred and George appeared next to him, almost shaking with excitement.

"How'd you do it, Harry?" Fred asked.

"You made it past the age line too," George exclaimed. "Without growing a beard!"

"Granger wouldn't tell us," Fred whined. "Did she help?"

"No, and I don't know who entered my name," Harry said, shaking his head. The common room was in full party mode, thanks to the Weasley twins. Streamers hung haphazardly from the ceiling and there was an abundance of butterbeer and food, undoubtedly stolen from the kitchens after the feast. But Harry wasn't in the mood for a party, how could he be? He looked around desperately for Hermione as the crowd descended around him, still cheering his name.

Everyone wanted to know how he did it. How he got past the age line to put his name in the goblet. He pushed aside offers of food and ignored the shouted congratulations as Lee Jordan draped a Gryffindor banner over his shoulders like a victorious knight's cloak. Nobody seemed to notice how Harry wanted to be anywhere else but there at that moment.

"I'm just trying to get to my room," he said tiredly.

A hand found him, and Harry felt himself being pulled through the crowd. He saw a mess of chestnut hair leading him towards the dormitory steps.