Nicole’s P.O.V
Today was the day. The day we had all been waiting for. The champion’s selection. The first day with the Goblet being open for submitting names had been hectic as all the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang came forward to submit their names. On the second day the main event was focused on Fred and George, who had failed miserably to make their aging potion and enter the tournament. As Dumbledore had said, they were unable to get past the age line and were thrown out of the goblet’s area, bearing new beards. Madam Pomfry had been able to remove them, along with several other students’ and they now sat clean shaven next to me. We were all in the Great Hall, finishing the feast that lead up to the champion selection. Everyone kept glancing up at the front table to see when Dumbledore was finished. My neck hurting from twisting it to look one to many times, Oliver was the one to collect my attention when Dumbledore had finished.
“Nicole, he’s done…it’s starting!” He said, reminding me of a two year old confronted with a bag of candy.
I tried to glance up to where the Goblet was sitting, but was unable to see. Silently cursing my height, I was very grateful when Oliver offered his lap to me, allowing me to see everything. Drawing my attention to the Goblet, I noticed the flames started to turn blue. Dumbledore edged towards it, shielding his eyes from the light and swiftly caught the piece of parchment that had been emitted from it.
He glanced at the name scribbled neatly onto it and then announced it to the hall. “The Beauxbatons champion is…Fleur Delacour!"
I clapped politely and snickered along with Oliver at the other Beauxbaton’s girls, who had burst into tears once realising their name hadn’t been called. Eyeing the blue flames in the Goblet once again I watched as it released another name and Dumbledore trapped it in his fingertips.
“The Durmstrang champion is….Victor Krum!”
The clapping seemed to be relatively louder this time, obviously due to the fact that the champion was a famous Quidditch player. A little ways down the table I heard Ron shout appreciatively. “No surprise there!”
Rolling my eyes at the fact that Ron was practically in love with Victor Krum, I observed the Goblet once more. As the flames turned blue for the third and final time, curiosity was overcoming me, as this would be the Hogwarts champion.
Dumbledore wedged the piece of parchment between his fingers and read it out to all. “The Hogwarts champion is… Cedric Diggory!”
I clapped politely and watched Cedric walk through the door which the other champions had entered. I was quite happy with our Hogwarts champion, believing Hufflepuff deserved some credit. I noticed Oliver was rather quiet about the selection of Cedric Diggory, probably because their Quidditch team had beat us out the previous year. As conversations stroke up once again, I was one of the few people in the hall who was aware that the flames in the Goblet were once again blue. Dumbledore also noticing stumbled forwards to collect the falling parchment.
“Harry Potter...” He said in a trailing whisper.
I sat in Oliver’s lap dumbstruck. How could Harry have possibly entered? I looked over to him and noticed he was sitting in shock. In an instant I knew he hadn’t entered and something terrible was going to happen. When Harry continued to sit in place, Dumbledore announced his name once again, this time yelling.
“HARRY POTTER!”
Hermione, who had recovered from the shock, gently pushed Harry up and he began to walk down the narrow, descending aisle. As he walked people glared at his back knowing he wasn’t seventeen and believing he had entered himself. Madam Maxime, Proffesor Moody, Igor Karkaroff and Dumbledore ran after him once he had walked through the door that all the other champions had. An immediate buzz of conversation had broken out in the hall, and all of it, revolved around Harry.
“He didn’t enter.” Oliver said, pale in the face.
“I know…he was more shocked than us.” I stated remembering his dumbstruck face.
A couple seats down I heard Ron and Hermione getting into a heated discussion. It seemed as though Ron was mad at Harry for entering and Hermione was defending Harry, insisting he hadn’t entered. I silently agreed with Hermione but decided to stay seated with Oliver, wondering what was going to happen. About ten minutes following, Professor McGonagall dismissed us all to leave to our dormitories, Durmstrang to their ship and Beauxbatons to their carriage. Hermione, Oliver and I remained behind however, waiting for Harry. We didn’t have to wait too long because soon enough he was rushing out of the door he had entered, his face pale white and his eyes as wide as an owl’s. When Harry reached us he looked around and asked something nobody wanted to answer.
“Where’s Ron?”
Mustering up some bravery, I did my best to answer while at the same time sound soothing. “He’s…very upset with you Harry, he thinks you entered…”
“But I didn’t! Harry yelled, his face turning red with fury.
“We know Harry, we know! He’s just being silly!” Hermione said, doing her best to calm him.
Trying desperately to change the subject, Oliver approached him next.
“What did Dumbledore and the others say to you?” He asked, almost fearing the answer.
Harry took a deep breath to steady himself. “They said I have to compete…and that the Twiwizard Tournament has officially begun.”
We all stopped walking and looked at him in fear and sympathy. Nothing could lie ahead but danger, and danger, was something we defiantly didn’t need.
