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James sat with his fellow Gryffindors anxiously. It was finally time for the champions to be chosen, and he couldn't sit still. Lily was holding him down so he would jump to his feet from his excitement.
"Now it's time for the Champions to be chosen," McGonagall announced as she stood from her chair, approaching the Goblet of Fire, "the moment many of you have been awaiting for, some even dreaming about."
James shot a smile around the Hall, his eyes glancing over everyone: friends, possible competitors, fellow Hogwarts Students, and the international students. Four people were going to become legends in a matter of minutes.
"Let's begin," McGonagall held her hand out as the goblet erupted in blue flames, a delicate piece of parchment fluttering into the outstretched hand, "For Beauxbatons: Miss Isabelle Rein will be representing the French Academy!"
The Beauxbatons students applauded, standing up and delicately clapping their hands together but it carried out proudly and was a strong wave of sound. Other students began to join in the applause as the blonde approached the front of the hall from the Hufflepuff table. A few boys whistled and cheered from all of the houses, and even the girls cheered louder.
Another piece of paper shot out of the goblet like a canon ball, McGonagall catching it right out of the air. Unfolding the parchment that was torched at the edges and read it out loud.
"Dimitri Ivanov from Durmstrang institute!"
The boy, who looked on the younger side, smiled widely as he ran up to stand next to Isabelle. Boys and girls from Durmstrang clapped him on the back as he ran up, all of them cheering and chanting his name. When he stood next to Isabelle, it was clear that he was a lot larger than her: broader shoulders and what seem like a half-of-a-foot in height difference. The pair really showed that this tournament wasn't just about physical ability, because Isabelle has the same chance of winning as Dimitri.
Another piece of parchment flew out of the goblet and found its way into McGonagalls hand.
"For Hogwarts, the champion will be," she read the piece of paper, "Oh Merlin help us: James Potter!"
Lily couldn't hold James back, he made it up to the other champion in a matter of seconds. High-fiving everyone as he made it up. He stood tall and proud next to Isabelle, his smile never faltering. Even smiling extra wide as Professor McGonagall looked to him, shaking her head and sighing.
The final piece of parchment came out of the blue flames and floated into the Headmistresses hand.
"Finally," she said, "our fourth and final champion, from Ilvermorny: Miss Andrea Rivera!"
James looked back to the Gryffindor table, and Andy had stood up and began walking up to the front. He could tell her shoulders were tense and she took her spot next to him. Everyone cheered for her, and she began to smile.
"Let's get a round of applause for our champions one more time!" McGonagall exclaimed, leading them in the applause, "Now the four of you follow me."
She led the quartet behind the head table and into the trophy room. The Champions pushing each other around and smiling.
"And we have a special guest, you'll be especially excited to meet," McGonagall smiled at James specifically.
He looked confused as to why his Headmistress had a devious look in her eye that rivalled his and Fred Weasley look of mischief. That's when he saw the special guest.
"James Sirius Potter, you're lucky your mother isn't here right now!" Harry Potter stood one the trophy room, arms crossed across his chest, eyes dead set on his eldest son.
"Dad, I can explain," James smiled, panic spreading across his face.
"You've heard so many stories about this tournament, you know the dangers and the risk in it!" Harry scolded his son, "Why on Earth would you put your name in that bloody cup?"
"Because-"
"Now is not the time to punish Mr. Potter, Mr. Potter," McGonagall interrupted, "This year nobody will get severely hurt, like in your year. We have extra security and wizards here for safety precautions. James won't die like Cedric did! Nobody will."
"It's not like Voldemort is going to try and come back!" James shrugged, trying to get back in his dads good graces.
"We'll talk about this more later," Harry sighed, "and you're the one who will tell your mother."
"Well, if I'm not dying in the tournament than I'm surely going to be killed by her!" James told him.
"Should of that about that when you put your name in the cup," Harry smiled.
"Anyways," McGonagall sighed, "The four of you will be participating in three tasks: they will test your intelligence and ability as Wizards and Witches."
"And there will be wizards and witches monitoring each task extensively," Harry added in, "So if any of you are in over your heads, you can call for help by sending sparks out of your wand or we will interfere if it looks like you need it."
"What they're trying to say is," Professor Longbottom walked in, "You are all as safe as can be in this tournament."
"When's the first task?" Andy piped up, her foot was fidgety and held her hands behind her back.
"Two weeks from tomorrow," Harry said, "We can't tell you what it will be, but we are giving you the hint that you must brush up on your spell casting spells: defensive, combat, or even recreational. You just need to work on as much as you can, practice, practice, practice."
"This is gonna be fun," Dimitri smiled to his other champions.
