PRANKSTER [1] ↝ C. DIGGORY

thirty-one

"I can't believe it's actually time." Vasantha mused as she, Clary, Fred, George, Cedric, and Newt all stood around the famed Goblet of Fire, finally able to get close enough that Clary could feel the warmth of the blue flames radiating onto her pale, freckled skin. "Who do you think will be chosen?"

"My money's on Warrington," Newt said, his gaze turning to where the hulking figure of Cassius Warrington of Slytherin stood along with his friends and a couple of boys from Durmstrang, near where the Slytherin table sat against the wall. No matter where anyone stood in the Great Hall, everyone's gaze was practically locked on the flaming goblet at the head of the room. "No offense, Ced, you'd be great, but he looks like a bloke who'd do whatever it takes to ensure he wins eternal glory."

"None taken," Cedric said, arms crossed over his chest as he surveyed a few of the other seventeen year olds milling about the room, some of them having no doubt entered their name into the tournament. 

"My money's still on us," Fred admitted, gesturing between himself and George. "Sure, we aren't seventeen, but our names did manage to get into the goblet before we grew our beards."

"Sit down, please," Dumbledore called to the hustle and bustle of students milling about the Great Hall, and instantly, the group of sixth years took a seat at the nearest table, eyes locked on the headmaster intently as the excitement of all the students' turned to a constant buzz around the room.

"Now the moment you've all been waiting for," Dumbledore announced, "the champions selection."

With a wave of his hand, the flames lighting the torches around the room faded to faint flickers, casting the room in near darkness and bathing it even further in the blue flames rising from the goblet. Clary's breath nearly hitched in her throat from excitement that the time was finally here. The champions would be announced, and then the Triwizard Tournament would be right around the corner.

Dumbledore crossed back over to the goblet, and the bright blue flames instantly turned to a ruby red, as a slightly singed slip of parchment rocketed forth from the fire and into the old man's hand. Each student in the room seemed to be holding their breath as Dumbledore unfolded the parchment, eager to see the name that lay beyond.

"The Durmstrang champion is..." Dumbledore trailed off, holding the suspense for a couple moments. "Viktor Krum!" 

Cheers rose from the Durmstrang students as Viktor rose to his feet, a couple of his fellow students patting him on the back and pounding him on the chest. Every eye in the room seemed to follow Viktor as he crossed the Great Hall to shake Dumbledore's hand before disappearing through the side door.

"I think he'll do great," Clary mentioned to Cedric and Newt, who sat to her right. "He's a strong one, Krum."

Since his arrival at Hogwarts, many of the girls couldn't take their eyes off of Viktor Krum, and while Clarissa Weasley usually prided herself on not being one of those girls, she had to admit she found her gaze wandering in his direction on more occasions than one. She'd been a fan of his Quidditch team for so long that it was almost surreal to see the boy now competing at her school, and wandering the halls as if he were a Hogwarts student himself.

As the applause began to quiet down, the flames in the goblet burst forth once again, a second piece of parchment landing in Dumbledore's hand as the excitement of the event continued.

"The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!" Dumbledore announced, and a tall blonde rose to her feet from the Ravenclaw table, strutting over to Dumbledore and shaking his hand before making her way through the crowd of faculty and exiting off to the side where Krum had only moments before.