The Goblet of Fire//Draco X Reader

8 - S.O.S.

Your cloak flows behind you as you stumble down the staircase, which slowly widens as you grow closer to the bottom. By the time you reach the final step, it can fit about five people shoulder to shoulder. Wrought iron gates open to allow you into the room, where your eyes sparkle.

The stone area is piled high with golden and jewels, ribbons and trophies, all kinds of honorable awards. Tables are stacked full of them, and pathways have been cleared to maneuver through. A fireplace is directly ahead, where the three champions, Viktor, Cedric, and Fleur all sit by the bright tangerine flames. When they hear your footsteps, they turn, clearing having been contemplating their arrival as a champion. You earn looks from each of them of curiousity, and a hint of concern from Ced.

"(Y/N) Black! (Y/N)!" You spin around, looking to the tan staircase behind you. All teachers from Hogwarts, as well as Bartimus Crouch, Madame Maxine, and Igor barrel down them, holding their robes up so that they can run quicker. As your name is shouted by every adult, they reach the bottom step.

Dumbeldore runs forward, and you take multiple steps in reverse. He grabs your shoulder, gripping it tightly. You are pushed backwards, eventually so far as to stumble against a treasure filled desk.

"(Y/N)! Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?" He asks, his calm demanor completely faded. His old, grey eyes are wide open behind his semi circle glasses as you answer him.

"No sir." You say, your answer immediate. He responds just as quickly as the other professors slow to a stop behind him.

"Did you ask one of the older students to do it for you?"

"No sir!"

"But of course she is lying!" Your head turns to the eight foot tall woman in the fur trimmed robe. Madame Maxines head brushes a latern on the ceiling as she glares down at you.

"The hell she is!" Moody says, hobbling forward. "The Goblet of Fire is an exceptionally powerful magical object, only an exceptionally powerful conjurer could have hoodwinked it. Magic way beyond the talents of a fourth year!"

Igor steps up, his white Russian garb and shoulder length, striped, smokey black hair swaying. He glares at Alastor Moody, and your eyes flicker between the many teachers.

"You seem to have given this a fair bit of thought, Mad-Eye."

"It was once my job to think as dark wizards do, Karkaroff, perhaps you remember?"

"This doesnt help, Alastor!" Albus says, looking to Barty who stands off to the side, his black bowler hat sitting over gray hair and a mustache. "Barty, you say something."

Bartimus Crouch looks at the ground, and everyone turns to him. Gears turn in his head as he searches for the best solution, which clearly he hates as he looks over to you with regret.

"The rules are absolute, the Goblet of Fire constitutes a binding magical contract.
Miss Black has no choice, she is as of tonight... a tri-wizards champion."

*Time Skip*

You walk down the dim halls, still shaling after the events. You must compete? You dont want this! One year. Thats all you want! One normal year at Hogwarts! You groan as you make it to the dark oak doors of your quarters, your shaky hand finding its way to a silver dragon shaped handle. As you go to pull it open, a voice grabs your attention.

"How did you do it?"

You turn, seeing Ron rounding the corner. His fiery hair is in worse shape than usual, and his eyes seem to have bats under them from the last two hours of uncertainty.

"Ron...I didn't." You say, noticing the glare from behind his shaggy hair. He laughs, then turns away.

"Whatever. Doesnt matter. I'm sure you let everyone else know, though."