When Myth Meets Magic: The Godly Champion-DISCONT.

Chapter 8: Everyone's Either Angry or Confused

Hazel POV

   To say that Harry being picked to be the fourth Triwizard champion caused panic, confusion, anger, and shock would be an understatement. All those emotions were accurate, but imagine 50 people having a normal amount of those emotions at the same time. Now pack all those 50 people's emotions into one seventh year student who was really hoping to get picked. Or into one of those students brought in from other schools, away from their homes. Or the headmasters of those schools, after working so hard to put the many restrictions on the tournament, only for a boy three years too young for it being chosen as the fourth champion. Can you imagine the outrage now?

   Dumbledore, Maxine, and Karkaroff all burst into the room soon after a pale Harry came in quietly, while Fleur and Viktor were confused the whole time, even after Harry told them.

   "Madame Maxine!" Fleur called to her headmistress in her French accent. "Is it true? Did zis boy really get picked?"

   That started off the headmasters', McGonagall's, Moody's, and Barty Crouch's fighting. Some were accusing Harry of putting his name in, some were asking if he would actually compete, and Ludo Bagman was just saying this was a good thing. How? Now, Harry's life was in danger and  I was probably the one who had to save him without as much help as I would like. His life was in my hands. And I was scared.

   After what seemed like 20 years of letting that sink in, Dumbledore was able to calm everyone down enough for him to speak with Harry.

"Harry, did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?" Dumbledore asked calmly.

"No sir!"

"Did you get an older student to enter your name for you?"

"No sir."

   And just then, Maxine accused him of lying and the fighting was almost started up again before Crouch, with bags under his eyes, spoke.

"The magical contract is binding. Potter must compete."

"But he is too young!" McGonagoll argued.

   I took this time of the adults arguing to look at Harry. He was paler than Nico and his breathing was shallow. He was watching the adults argue like a tennis match, his eyes darting around the room. I felt bad for him. It's not like he did anything to deserve this, right? He was just thrown in here, like some weird prophecy that's not really a prophecy.

   Finally, they came to an agreement, very begrudgingly. Harry would compete just like the rest of us.

~~~

  "So," I said to Harry as we were walking to our dorms. "How do you think your name ended up in the cup?"

   Harry looked at me in shock. "Y-you believe me?"

"Of course I do. Why would you want to put your name in there after being in dangerous situations three years in a row?" I said. Honestly, I couldn't believe that everyone else thought he put his name in. I mean, I couldn't understand why anyone would actually want to sign up for a death tournament, but seriously. Him? Out of every other student? No way.

   He shrugged. "I dunno how my name got in there. I never wanted to compete." Knew it.

   "Well, don't worry. You have people to help you." I gave him a warm smile before going down to the basement of Hogwarts, down to the Hufflepuff dorms. After all that, I was pretty exhausted, but, judging from the screams and cheers when I walked in, my house wasn't.

   Before I could even react, two sixth years lifted me onto their shoulders and carried me to the common room. Everyone crowed around me and congratulated me by screaming in my ears. Someone got a hold of a firecracker and used it. It was chaos. Thankfully, while everyone else was celebrating, Will pulled me into a dark corner.

"Well, Hazel, congrats," he started.

   I groaned and rubbed my eyes. "Remind me why we even had to sign up for this thing in the first place?"

"Because Hecate told us something was going to happe- hey, don't rub your eyes!"

   I giggled lightly. "I'm glad you're with my brother," I said, turning him redder than a beetroot.

"I'm gonna go try and get some sleep before my dorm mates bust in. 'Night," I said, patting his shoulder.

"Um, goodnight," he said before rushing off to his own dorm. I chuckled as I climbed the steps to the girls' dorm and flopped down on my bed.

   About ten minutes later, my roommates came in and talked my ears off about the tasks, the prizes, and, for some reason, boys, all the way until one AM.