A Desperate Prophecy (When Magic Interferes)

Anger Lights Fires (and Oaths Quench Suspicion)

"Hadrian Potter!"

Hadrian heard gasps all around him and felt the stares piercing his figure. He was completely stunned. Never in his wildest dreams did he think someone would play such a cruel trick on him, but it seems someone – most likely Dumbledore or one of his sycophants – had no boundaries or self-respect to speak of.

Hadrian took a deep breath to abate his mounting anger and rose calmly from his seat at Slytherins' table. He walked calmly to the middle of the Great Hall – in front of the Teachers' table – and turned to his fellow students, raising his wand in the air as he did so.

"I, Hadrian James Pendragon-Potter, Prince of Camelot and Heir to the Honourable and Most Ancient House of Potter, the Most Ancient House of Peverell and the Royal and Most Olde House of Pendragon, do solemnly swear on my blood, my honour as the Heir of King Arthur Pendragon and the magic I was given by our Mother Magic that I did not put my name in the Goblet of Fire, I did not ask anyone to put my name in, or even coerced anyone to put my name in. So have I sworn, so mote it be."

He glowed a bright gold after he was finished, binding himself to the oath he'd just made. As the glow faded, people watched to see if he'd truly lost his magic, and just to prove his point, Hadrian closed his emerald eyes and raised his hand. With a flash, Excalibur elegantly appeared in his hand. He heard gasps of amazement ring from both students and teachers as he activated his full powers.

His black Hogwarts robes changed into a navy suit and white shirt with purple underneath and a dark purple cape draped over his shoulders. On his head was a golden crown inlaid with purple and red jewels. By his side was the beautiful long sword he'd just conjured.

He looked the epitome of the prince people forget he is, and power came out of him in waves. It was a slightly overbearing aura, to the point where people had the overwhelming urge to bow to him in respect.

"I hope this is proof enough that I did not break the rules and put my name into the goblet even though I am a minor. And to whoever did put my name in, I hope you take this as your one and only warning, I will find out who you are, and when I do, the consequences of this action against me and my family will be severe."

Some people shuddered at the tone of his voice and the purple glow around his eyes. Dumbledore looked on in horror, it seems his plans had completely backfired.

He walked elegantly towards the door behind the Head Table and joined the other champions. His hand was on his sword as a warning to anyone who thought it a good idea to attack or confront him. Hadrian went through the door out of the Great Hall and found himself in a smaller room, lined with paintings of witches and wizards. A bright fire was roaring in the fireplace opposite him. The faces in the portraits turned to look at him as he entered. He saw a wizened witch flit out of the frame of her picture and into the one next to it, which contained a wizard with a walrus mustache. The wizened witch started whispering in his ear, then all the portraits bowed respectfully to him, acknowledging his position and status.

Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory, and Fleur Delacour were grouped around the fire. They looked strangely impressive, silhouetted against the flames. Krum, hunched-up and brooding, was leaning against the mantelpiece, slightly apart from the other two. Cedric was standing with his hands behind his back, staring into the fire. Fleur Delacour looked around when Hadrian had walked in and threw back her sheet of long, silvery hair. Before she could speak (and probably disrespect him in some way), Cedric noticed his presence and what he was wearing, and immediately bowed in greeting.

"Your highness, what happened?"

"It seems someone has decided to target me for no reason."

"Your highness? What kind of royalty are you?" The French girl asked in confusion, her voice just barely hiding her scepticism.