Catching Eyes

Betrayal

Harry stood in the dimly lit chamber adjacent to the Great Hall, surrounded by the other champions. The walls were adorned with ancient tapestries and the flickering light of torches cast long shadows across the stone floor. Cedric, Viktor, and Fleur stood a few feet away, their expressions a mix of pride and determination. But Harry... Harry felt out of place, as if he had wandered into a room where he didn't belong.

His mind was spinning, his thoughts a tangled mess of confusion and fear. How could this have happened? He hadn't put his name in the Goblet. He knew that. But now, here he was, standing alongside the best and brightest of their respective schools, his heart pounding so loudly that he could barely hear anything else.

Cedric glanced over at Harry, his brow furrowed in concern. "Harry... what's going on? Did you...?"

"No," Harry said quickly, shaking his head. "I didn't put my name in. I swear."

Before Cedric could respond, the heavy oak door at the far end of the chamber burst open, and Professor Dumbledore strode in, his normally calm demeanor replaced by something darker, more intense. Behind him were Professors McGonagall and Snape, followed closely by Madame Maxime and Professor Karkaroff. The air in the room grew thick with tension as they entered, their faces a mixture of anger and disbelief.

"Harry!" Dumbledore's voice was sharp as he closed the distance between them. "Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?"

"No!" Harry insisted, his voice cracking slightly under the pressure. "I didn't! I don't know how it happened!"

Dumbledore's eyes bore into Harry's, searching for any sign of deceit, but he found none. There was only fear and confusion. Still, the doubt hung in the air, almost tangible, as the other teachers exchanged uneasy glances.

"It's impossible," Professor McGonagall said, her tone firm but laced with worry. "The Goblet is a powerful magical object, protected by ancient spells. No student under the age of seventeen could have put their name in."

"Unless," Snape drawled, stepping forward, his black eyes narrowing on Harry, "someone helped him."

The implication in Snape's words sent a chill down Harry's spine. "I didn't ask anyone to help me," he said, his voice rising with desperation. "I don't even want to be in the tournament!"

"Then how do you explain this, Potter?" Snape's voice was cold, a sharp contrast to the warmth of the firelight. "Your name coming out of that Goblet defies the rules set in place. Someone had to have done it."

Harry looked around at the faces of the adults surrounding him, their expressions a mix of suspicion and concern. He had faced dangerous situations before, but this felt different. This was a different kind of danger, one that involved not just his life, but his honor, his integrity. He couldn't stand the idea that they thought he might have cheated, that he had somehow manipulated the system.

"I don't know how it happened," Harry repeated, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. "But I didn't put my name in. You have to believe me."

Before anyone could respond, Professor Karkaroff stepped forward, his face twisted with anger. "This is an outrage! A student from Hogwarts getting two chances in this tournament? It's blatant favoritism! I demand that this boy be removed from the competition immediately!"

Madame Maxime nodded in agreement, her large frame towering over everyone else. "This is not fair to the other champions. 'Ow can zis be allowed?"

Dumbledore held up a hand to silence them, his eyes never leaving Harry's. "The Goblet of Fire constitutes a binding magical contract," he said slowly, almost reluctantly. "Once a name has been chosen, that individual is obligated to compete. There is no way around it."