Chapter 381: Champion Candidates

At Halloween dinner, Hermione's appetite increased, as she said with a gasp, "Ohhhh, is it true? Valen ran into your dorm room and traded an hourglass for that coin? I bet she was heartbroken ..." She joyfully clamped a large pork chop for herself.

"That makes you happy." Ron quipped. Neither he nor Harry had used their Ageing Potion.

"Of course I'm happy," Hermione put down her knife and fork and looked at the two of them with a straight face, "You heard this afternoon, Hagrid was able to lift his head out of a bucket of slippery fabric softener and told us how much he was looking forward to the first event ... You should know just how dangerous the competition really is!"

The fork in Ron's hand twitched as he felt somewhat persuaded by the argument, " So what was the very last thing that made Hagrid happy?"

"Firetrail Snails." Seamus said unhappily from the sidelines.

At the Faculty table, Felix finished the last sip of seafood soup in his bowl and paused, his eyes swiped over the hundreds of pumpkin lamps in the corner and the bats that kept fluttering on the ceiling, and fell on the restless little wizards.

He could totally sense the agitation that permeated through the great hall, one of the tricks he had learned from the Dementors.

"It's kind of choking." He muttered.

Flitwick gave him a curious look, his outstretched hand retracted, losing interest in the pot of seafood soup in front of Felix.

There's one more person is present today at the faculty table than yesterday - Mr. Barty Crouch Sr, with a sickly look on his face, he leaned back in his chair after a few hasty bites of mashed potato meatloaf, he looked distracted, in contrast to the beaming Ludo Bagman next to him.

"... When I played for the Wimbourne Wasps, I received a bunch of flowers after every game, and also foreign fans ... Which country? I don't know ... don't recognize them, anyway those are notes with many names and address, I guess it's from female fans, as those notes smelled like perfume ... If only Barty was there, he could have translated them for me, right?"

Bagman turned his head to look at Mr. Crouch, and grunted with a stern face.

"Oh, Barty, you don't look that good shape, maybe you should take a break to recuperate ..."

"I'll think about it." Mr. Crouch said with interest, even with his pale face, he still managed to keep himself well-dressed without a single crease in his clothes, looking very similar to Headmaster Ilvermorny's style.

Most of the students had finished their meals, and amidst the crowds' eager gazes, Dumbledore stood up.

He waved his wand, making the great hall completely dark, the Goblet of Fire had been moved to the front of the faculty table, at this moment it glowed brightly, and the flame ran high, the blue-white flame turned into a dazzling red, sparks were flying.

A half charred parchment flew out.

"The first champion from Durmstrang," he said in a clear, strong voice, "is Viktor Krum."

The great hall thundered with applause as Krum rose from his seat and, guided by Professor McGonagall, as he walked into the room next to the great hall.

"There's still hope, there are still two spots left!" The Durmstrang student near the table cheered himself on.

After a long time, another piece of parchment flew out.

"Durmstrang, Aurus Poliakov." Dumbledore read.

The boy who had just spoken cried out in joy, and he lost his composure and shouted, "I knew it!" He stood up and swung his fist so hard that he nearly tripped over the table, and the Durmstrang Headmaster grunted.

Next came the third Durmstrang champion -

"Durmstrang, Adam Bewick."

Dumbledore wiped the corners of his eyes and said with emotion, "How touching! Three courageous young men will unite together and fight for the honour of the school ..."

In the next not-so-short period of time, the Goblet of Fire spits out a note with the signature of the selected champions of the four remaining schools.

"Beauxbatons, Fleur Delacour -

Jacqueline Bourgeois -

Francois La Fontaine."

The three champions from Beauxbatons walked in turn to the room next to the great hall to wait, but the students' minds were in turmoil, as if time remained frozen at the moment when the girl who looked like Veela stood up.

The girl named Fleur elegantly tossed her bright silver hair and stepped lightly between the two dining tables like a fairy ...

It can be expected that this image will be branded in the hearts of many students and will not be forgotten for the rest of their lives.

"Followed by the champions of Ilvermorny, Victor Percival Graves -



Anne Lunn -

And the third warrior, Byers Bach."

Byers stood up joyfully and walked into the small room next to the great hall amidst a cheering crowd of Gryffindor students.

"Next it is the turn for the champions of Uagadou, Rashawn Eliphendy--

Nona Leibert-

Panagiotta Blanzigor."

The Champions of Uagadou stepped forward, and instead of walking individually one by one, as was the previous process, they waited until all three had been chosen before leaving together.

The Hogwarts students looked at their backs - of the two male wizards, one stood tall and lanky, looking like a walking wall, he towered at least a foot above Cedric, mind you, Cedric is considered tall among the Hogwarts students; the other combed his hair like an eagle, and he is not small either, but when standing together next to that guy he looked like a little dwarf. Sᴇaʀch* Thᴇ ɴøᴠel Fɪre.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

The only girl in the trio stood tall as Fleur, but her body is filled with a sense of power, clad in a thin leopard-skin dress in the not-so-warm weather.

"And finally, the Champions from Hogwarts." Dumbledore said cheerfully, reading out the name on the note that had been tossed from the Goblet of Fire: "Cedric Diggory-"

"Oh no!" Ron said aloud, and luckily, no one heard it but Harry and Hermione, the cheers from the next table were going to take the roof off, Dumbledore had to wait for a while with the second note, and in between waiting, the third note came out of a flaming tongue.

"The second and third Champions, are Roger Davies and Collins Foley! Let's cheer them on." He read out the names of the remaining two in one breath.

There is another deafening applause, and the Gryffindor students clap along, somewhat unhappily; none of the three Champions are Gryffindors, so they are completely upset.

When the noise subsided, Dumbledore said with a smile: "Well, I would like to invite the last three champions to take a short break in the room next to the great hall.... And I am happy to announce that the Goblet of Fire has been successfully fulfilled its task, and I believe that everyone will support their school's champions and contribute to this event, so-- -"

He suddenly stopped talking as the Goblet of Fire, which should have been extinguished, became dazzling once again, the blazing glow of the fire painting his face red.

A slip of paper flew out, he subconsciously caught it, glanced down at it, and after a brief silence, he cleared his throat and read aloud--

"Harry Potter."

There are no cheers, the great hall went quiet. Gradually, the buzz rose and everyone looked at Harry, including the classmate sitting next to Harry, who looked at him with incredulous eyes.

"I didn't put my name in." Harry said blankly, looking over to Ron and Hermione, "You know I didn't, I've been with you guys."

Hermione's mouth hung open, and her eyes glazed over as Ron forced a smile, "Yeah, we've been together. Congratulations, Harry."

"It's not a matter of congratulations!" Harry shouted, his voice echoing through the great hall.

On the other side, Professor McGonagall rose from the faculty table in a panic and nearly tripped as she passed by Felix, "Careful, Minerva." He said. But McGonagall did not pay attention at all, she hurriedly walked next to Dumbledore, saying something strongly.

Dumbledore said seriously, "I know, Minerva, but ..." he raised his voice and held up the half-burned note in his hand, "Harry Potter, go next door to the great hall first."

Harry stood up stumbling, looking at the stunned faces, he felt like he didn't belong here, he walked over to Dumbledore who nodded at him and pointed him in a direction, he took a few steps forward and heard another loud audible gasp behind him.

He jerked back - as incredulously as the others - and looked at the Goblet of Fire, which had turned red again, after the first blunder, a second immediately followed.

It must be broken, Harry thought, the broken wooden cup is out of order, and maybe a third unlucky person will be called out in a moment.

Dumbledore nimbly fished up the slip of paper and read the name on it in a deep voice, "Hermione Granger."

A gasp rang out from the Gryffindor table, and Hermione covered her mouth, unable to believe her ears. But at this moment, everyone's eyes were fixed on the Goblet of Fire, with an inexplicable anticipation welling up in their hearts.

Even Dumbledore did the same, silently gazing at the Goblet of Fire, with his deep, bottomless blue eyes behind the half-moon-shaped lens.

Harry stayed where he was, the blue-white flames made him dizzy, but he forced himself to look at it, as if he wanted to see the innermost part of the wooden cup, to see the last note that is about to shoot out.



Finally--

Dumbledore grabbed the high-flying note and read calmly in the deep voice, in the dark, silent great hall, "Ronald Weasley."

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