FINITE | Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire [4]

𝘅𝘅𝘃𝗶𝗶 | 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗹 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀

'The goblet is almost ready to make its decision,' said Dumbledore into the thick, tense silence. 'I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them to please 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 waved it; all the candles extinguished, save those that were inside the pumpkins, plunging them into an almost eerie state of semidarkness. The anticipation was thick, practicably tangible in the air, as every single face in the Hall turned to the Goblet of Fire. It now glowed, its own beacon of flickering blue light.

  Everyone watched... waiting... A few people kept checking their watches, including Gwen.

  'Any second,' Lee Jordan whispered in the seat next to George.

  The flames inside the goblet turned scarlet suddenly. Sparks began to fly from it, and a jet of flames shot into the air; a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it, and the whole room gasped.

  Dubledore's lithe hand reached up and caught the paper; he held it in front of him at arms' length by the light of the flames, which had returned blue once more.

  'The champion for Durmstrang,' he read, in a clear voice that bounced off the walls, 'will be Viktor Krum!'

  'Of course it is,' Gwen said to Hermione over the storm of cheering and clapping that now filled the Hall. She grinned at Ron who was now roaring with ecstasy.

  She watched as Viktor Krum rose from his place at the Slytherin table and walked, heavy footed, to Dumbledore. They shook hands and Krum turned, walked the length of the staff table and disappeared into the chamber behind it.

  'Bravo, Viktor!' Karkaroff roared, his voice so loud that everyone heard him, even over the applause.

  Once the clapping and chatting died down, everyone's attention was back on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned scarlet; a second piece of parchment shot from it, and Dumbledore caught it once more.

  'The champion for Beauxbatons,' he told them, 'is Fleur Delacour!'

  To another round of applause, the veela girl got gracefully to her feet. She smiled around, shook her long silvery hair back, and glided up the Hall between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.

  'Oh, no,' Hermione whispered to Gwen, 'look, they're all disappointed.'

  Gwen followed her gaze to the Ravenclaw table and spotted the Beauxbatons students.

  'Devastated, is more like it,' she whispered. And it was true; two of the girls had burst into tears and now had their heads in their arms. One boy was shaking his head, and, although they were all clapping, most of them looked on the verge of tears themselves.

  When Fleur Delacour had disappeared into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time, the excitement and tension was so thick, Gwen felt she could quite literally feel it enclosing around her. The Hogwarts champion next...

  She watched, awed, as the Goblet of Fire turned scarlet; sparks showered out of it; a tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from it burst the final scrap of parchment.

  Gwen turned to look at Felix again, who appeared hypnotised as Dumbledore held out the paper to read.

  'The Hogwarts champion,' Dumbledore announced, 'is Cedric Diggory!'

  Gwen couldn't help the disappointment. She was more overcome by the sudden uproar from the Hufflepuff table; it was the loudest celebration yet; every single Hufflepuff was on their feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly, and he, too, headed for the side chamber.

  The applause for Cedric went on for so long, that it was some time before Dumbledore was able to speak and be heard again.

  'Excellent!' he beamed as the celebration finally died down. 'We now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give you champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real--'

  Dumbledore stopped short. It was apparent to everyone in the room as to why, for the Goblet of Fire had turned red again. Sparks flew into the air, and upon the tendril of scarlet flames was borne a fourth piece of parchment.

  Dumbledore caught it and held it out, staring at the name upon it.

  There was a long pause; everyone in the room held their breath... this wasn't supposed to happen, was it?

  Then, Dumbledore cleared his throat, and read in that same, clear voice:

  'Harry Potter.'