Whirlwind (A Viktor Krum Fanfiction)

Chapter IV

Friday, October 30th (Cont.)

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore now took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames.

Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools at the stroke of midnight. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," said Dumbledore, "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

Charlotte was even more glad that she hadn't eaten more than a few bites of bread pudding as her stomach flooded with dread. Viktor planned on entering the Tournament? What if he was actually chosen? What if he ended up just another name on the long list of deaths afforded to the Tournaments? She couldn't lose someone else, not so soon after Grandfather Atticus.

There was a commotion at the Gryffindor table behind her, but Charlotte paid it no mind. She made to leave the Great Hall, sliding through the crowd without having to think, but her footing was nearly lost when a group of boys brushed past her. Charlotte stumbled back, and, thankfully, someone caught her elbow before she could fall.

"Ostrowski," said a deep voice, "you should apologize."

Charlotte looked up into the face of the person that had caught her, and blushed when her green eyes met dark brown ones. Viktor Krum nodded to her gently, then focused on the other Durmstrang boy.

"I did not push her," the other boy said.