Students shuffled tarot cards and watched crystal balls fog while Professor Trelawney floated between tables, muttering about planetary alignments. Harry sat at his tiny round table across from Ron, quill poised over a parchment that was still stubbornly blank. Ron leaned close and whispered, "She's already predicted my death twice, and it's only been ten minutes."
Harry tried to smile, but his thoughts were miles away. Divination was usseles. He still had no idea what he was doing in here wasting his time.
A sudden knock echoed on the trapdoor. Everyone jumped. Trelawney lifted her head, silver bangles jingling. "Enter, dear."
A nervous-looking second-year poked his head through the hatch, clutching a folded note. "Message for Harry Potter," he squeaked.
The entire class turned. Harry took the note, unfolded it, and saw Professor McGonagall's spiky handwriting:
Mr. Potter,
You are required in the antechamber beside the Great Hall immediately. Bring your wand.
M. McGonagall
Trelawney clasped her hands. "The spirits call you elsewhere, my dear boy," she said, sounding far too pleased. "Go, quickly."
Harry grabbed his bag and hurried down the narrow ladder. Ron called after him "Meet you at dinner!?"
"Yeah!" Harry called back.
~~~~
The antechamber doors stood slightly open when he reached the Great Hall. Inside, Cedric Diggory, Viktor Krum, and Fleur Delacour were already waiting. Ludo Bagman beamed at them, sleeves rolled to the elbows of his canary-yellow robes. Mr. Crouch stood nearby, pale and stiff.
"Ah, Harry, good," Bagman said. "Everyone's here now."
McGonagall closed the doors with a firm click joined by Professor Dumbledore near the fireplace. The Headmaster's blue eyes twinkled. "Champions," he began, "we are here to inform you of the date for your first task. It will take place this Friday, the fourteenth of November, at nine o'clock in the morning."
Harry felt his pulse jump. Friday. Three days.
Bagman cleared his throat and added "There is one more bit you should know. For the past few months the Department of Mysteries has been working with us on special simulations. Some of the little dueling drills you tried in Defence class were early prototypes. This task is the real version. We will be using the stored magic inside the Goblet of Fire itself. When you step onto the field the Goblet will open an inner realm, a pocket world built from its own power. Once you are pulled inside you will drop into a story of its choosing. Your job is to understand the problem, solve it, and come back out in one piece. We have no idea which tale you will get, only that it will push you to the limit."
Crouch spoke next. "For safety and fairness your progress will be projected into the Great Hall. Your classmates and visitors can watch, cheer, and, if necessary, alert us to trouble. The projection is one-way. No tips, no outside help, only observation."
Bagman clasped his hands. "Bring only your wand. Nothing else will cross over with you. Think fast, stay calm, and remember. The exit appears once the story is resolved. Survive, and the task is complete."
Cedric raised a hand. "Professor, will each of us face our own tale, or are we all dropped into one story and meant to race through it together?"
Bagman rocked on his heels. "One story, Mr Diggory, but you will not start side by side. The Goblet will scatter you to different entry points inside the realm. Think of it as pages in the same book. You may cross paths, you may not."
Crouch folded his arms. "You will still be judged individually. Whoever resolves the central conflict first earns the most points. If you choose to hinder another champion, that is your risk. Cooperation is allowed, but remember, only one of you can finish first."
Fleur's brow furrowed. "And if someone finishes, what happens to the rest of us?"
Dumbledore answered, calm and clear. "When any champion completes the story, a gateway will appear for all. "
Viktor Krum gave a short nod and gripped his wand a little tighter. Three days.
Professor McGonagall watched Harry for a moment, her eyes unexpectedly gentle. "Mr Potter.." she called him closer "do you remember our talk, when you asked about dropping Divination?"
Harry nodded, swallowing. "Yes, Professor. I remember."
"Back then I explained that electives last the full year. I never imagined you'd become a Triwizard Champion and still be sitting in this very class."
Harry looked away, uncomfortable.
"Shortly after your selection," she continued, "you should have received an owl with the champion's rules, your exemptions and schedule changes. Did you read it?"
Harry's cheeks went pink. "No, Professor. I didn't."
McGonagall's lips curved in a small smile. "If you had read it, you would have known you could skip Divination right away. Instead you've been wasting valuable time."
Harry's head dropped. "I understand. I should have read it."
She nodded firmly. "Consider yourself excused from Divination, then. But you must review that file today. You cannot afford any more surprises."
Harry lifted his chin and smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Professor. I'll read it immediately."
McGonagall's stern expression softened into approval. "Very good. Now go. Use that hour to practice for your task."
He stepped out of the antechamber, his heart hammering. Normally he'd be thrilled to skip Divination. An extra hour to train before Friday would have felt like a gift. Now it only reminded him how little time he had. One lesson on Thursday, and then the first task. Three days. It terrified him. His fingers trembled as he walked the stone corridor. Before he knew it he was at the edge of the lake, watching birds wheel against a clear sky. The Beauxbatons ship gleamed in the distance, but he slipped into the small clearing Hagrid had shown them for Forest lessons. Harry drew in a deep breath of cold air. He never swore, but the word slipped out.
"Fucking hell.."
"Watch your mouth, Potter!"
Harry spun around and found Malfoy striding out of the trees, Crabbe and Goyle close behind. Draco's smile was sharp. "I wonder what your dead mother would say if she heard you cuss like that. Oh, right, She's not here." He laughed and turned away.
Harry's hand clenched into a fist. He forced himself not to lash out. Memories of his mother flooded back and he felt better. Draco Malfoy knew shit.
Before the thoughts could overwhelm him, Hagrid loomed into view.
"Everything all right, Harry?" the giant asked.
"Hi, Hagrid," Harry said, stepping back. "I didn't know you had a lesson. Sorry to interrupt."
Hagrid stayed where he was, his great frame unmoving as he peered at Harry's face, as if trying to spot exactly what was wrong. After a breath, he gave a small nod. "No trouble at all," he said. "I was just showing the fourth years some stuff in forest, but I'll let them get on with their homework."
He turned toward the path back to the castle, then looked over his shoulder. "You hang in there, Harry. Everything's going to be all right."
Harry nodded and began to walk past Hagrid, but then a group of Slytherin students came filing out of the forest behind the giant. Probably the rest of the class following Hagrid. Daphne peeled away from them and crossed the clearing, her robes still dusty from their lesson. She gave him a tentative smile.
"Hello, Mr. Potioneer."
When Harry didn't react at all, Daphne tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and fixed him with a concerned look. "Are you all right?" she asked.
Harry swallowed and met her eyes. "Daphne," he said quietly, "the first task is this Friday."
Her lips pressed together, and for a moment she looked as if she might say something, but the words slipped away. He could see her bottom lip trembling.
"I'm… I'm scared," he admitted. "I don't know if I can do it."
Daphne stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. Harry froze, then relaxed against her. She squeezed gently.
"You'll do fine," she whispered into his hair. "Three days isn't nothing. We've gotten this far."
He closed his eyes, leaning into her warmth. "I'm glad you're here," he murmured.
Daphne pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes.
"Remember those stories you told me about the basilisk and the Dementors?" Daphne asked. "You faced horrors you never chose and you came out the other side. You will do fine. All you need now is to believe in yourself. Don't let doubt win."
She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "I'll be right here with you."
"Thank you, Daphne," Harry said softly.
She brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead and hugged him again, her cheeks pink in the fading light. Pulling back, she met his eyes. "I really have to go," she said quietly.
Harry offered a small smile and nodded. "Take care," he replied.
She gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze and turned toward the trees. Harry watched her walk away, feeling a warmth in his chest that stayed long after she was out of sight.
~~
After the conversation with Daphne Harry walked for quite a while, thinking, but the longer he thought about it the more he realized it made no sense. Now it was time to act. With a new reserve of energy he returned to the castle and the first thing he did was eat a proper dinner, during which he informed his friends about the news. Ron and Hermione were shocked and terrified, experiencing exactly the same emotional turmoil that Harry had gone through just a moment before. Then Harry went up to the Gryffindor tower to contact Sirius. Their conversation lasted thirty minutes and Harry and Sirius created a concrete plan of action for three days. When Sirius learned how the first task would look he understood that it was going to be something far more demanding than a stupid maze or a lake fight. It would be a test of character but also of maturity, and despite the fact that Harry was no stranger to courage, he was still a fourteen-year-old boy who had never been in similar conditions.
Based on their conversation, the basic list of spells that, according to Sirius, Harry must master was drawn up, because no one knows how long he might spend inside. If he does not come out until the puzzle is solved, then what? He might spend months in there. There will be no house-elves to bring him food, there will be no Madam Pomfrey to fix his broken bones.
Medical
Vulnera Sanentur – close deep wounds
Ferula – summon self‐tightening bandages
Ossio Restituo – mend broken bones
Episkey – heal minor cuts and bruises
Water and Fire
Aguamenti – fresh drinking water
Incendio – start a controlled flame
Reparo – patch torn shelter walls
Scourgify – clean cooking area
Food and Foraging
Herbivicus – speed edible plant growth
Gustus Terra – uncover buried roots
Stupefy – stun small animals without killing
Scindere – gut and prepare meat (skinning)
Defense
Expelliarmus – disarm threats
Stupefy – temporarily incapacitate creatures
Arresto Momentum – slow deadly falls
Harry already knew some of those spells, like Incendio, which he learned in his second year, and Episkey, which he learned in his first year, so the situation was not hopeless. But a spell to heal broken bones? How was he supposed to learn something like that? That was the problem, and Harry decided to do something he rarely did. He went to Professor McGonagall to ask for help. Strictly speaking, house heads were not allowed to give champions special treatment, but apparently that could be worked around. Professor McGonagall was more than willing to help him. That very afternoon she arranged an unused classroom for him and set up two dummies. One was completely intact so he could practice all kinds of spells. The other lay on the floor in a mangled state. The professor explained that this was the standard way for future Healers to learn medical charms.
In this way Harry suddenly had plenty of opportunity to practice. He still had to attend his regular lessons, of course, but he could not concentrate at all on anything else. And strangely, whenever it was obvious he wasn't paying attention, his teachers simply left him alone.
Wednesday evening, Harry got a single envelope addressed by Richard. Inside, he explained that Sirius had let him know Harry's first task was on Friday and asked him to use the extra basilisk materials to craft a survival suit. At first Harry wasn't sure what to think, but when he showed Ron, it all made sense. In professional dueling and curse‐breaking circles champions often wear specialized garments for extra protection against spells and traps. Aurors even have reinforced robes in case something unexpected happens. Almost no one, however, has armor made from basilisk components. A suit like that would be worth thousands of Galleons, but Harry just hoped it would look normal. Richard made a promise that Friday morning it will be ready, and that Calista will help him.
~~~~
Harry braced himself behind a crooked wooden barricade, wand raised, sweat clinging to his forehead. "Again!" he called out.
Ron didn't hesitate. "Stupefy!"
The bolt of red light shot forward, and Harry snapped his wand up. "Arenafors!"
A burst of force exploded outward, catching the spell and slamming it sideways into the wall. A chalkboard cracked down the middle.
"Nice," Hermione muttered, eyes moving between her notes and the impact zone. "But you lost half the power in the release. Try tightening your wrist right before the snap."
Harry nodded, already shifting into position again. He barely heard the door creak open behind them.
"Found you," came a voice, clear and cool.
All three of them froze. Ron spun toward the door like he'd been hit with a jinx. "What are you doing here?!"
Daphne stepped into the room without hesitation, her arms folded and one eyebrow arched. "Oh shut it, Weasley. I'm not here for you."
Harry sighed and lowered his wand. "I invited her."
Ron whipped his head around. "You what?"
"She wanted to help," Harry said. "We talked about it yesterday. I told her about our training and asked if she wanted to join."
"But she's from Slytherin!" Ron snapped, like that explained everything.
Daphne raised her eyebrows. "Oh my God, you really think everyone in Slytherin is like Malfoy?" she said, clearly annoyed. "You're actually stupid."
Ron's face turned red, and he opened his mouth, ready to fire off something even dumber, but Harry stepped between them just in time. He shot Ron a sharp warning look. Ron shut his mouth and lowered his wand with a frustrated huff.
Harry turned to Daphne.
This wasn't the same Daphne who stood next to him at the cauldron. Not the one who brewed potions in comfortable silence, or smirked when he made a mistake.
That girl wasn't here right now.
She wasn't going to act natural in a room where she clearly didn't feel welcome. Of course she'd act different.
Interesting, Harry thought.
Hermione finally stood up, closing her notebook with a quiet snap. "Alright," she said, brushing dust off her skirt. "If she's here to train, then let's train. No point wasting time arguing."
Daphne tilted her head, clearly surprised, but she didn't comment. She stepped further into the room, eyes scanning the scattered books, the singed chalkboard, the wooden barricade by the wall. "You've been busy."
"We've been working on reaction spells," Hermione said, motioning toward the area where Harry had cast Arenafors. "Defense bursts, transfigured cover, terrain manipulation."
Daphne raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly do you want me to do? Stand in the corner and clap when Harry blocks something?"
Harry glanced at her, then at the others. "No. You're good at precision spells. And you're fast. I figured you could help us push things further."
Daphne's posture eased a little. She glanced at Hermione, then back at Harry. "Alright," she said slowly. "That's… actually fair."
Hermione didn't say anything, just gave a small nod and started flipping back through her notes.
"You know," Daphne said, almost casually, "I always thought you Gryffindors just charged into things without thinking. This is… organized."
Ron snorted. "It wasn't, until Hermione got involved."
Daphne smirked. "Figures."
Hermione closed her notebook with a soft thud. "Alright, new plan," she said. "We've got four people now. Let's split into pairs."
Ron raised an eyebrow. "What, like teams?"
"Exactly," Hermione said. "Two on two. It'll help with coordination and timing. Plus, real opponents make better practice."
Before Ron could argue, she added, "Girls versus boys."
Daphne grinned. "I like her."
Harry shot a quick look at Ron, who groaned. "Brilliant. We're gonna die."
"Only a little," Hermione said, already stepping into place. "Harry, you take the left side. Ron, back him up. You two ready?"
Harry rolled his shoulders and nodded. "Yeah."
"On three," Hermione said. "One… two… three!"
Spells flew instantly. Harry ducked just in time as Daphne's jinx sliced the air where his head had been. Hermione broke left, sharp and fast, already targeting Ron. Her stunner lit up the space between them. He shouted and twisted away, nearly stumbling but staying upright.
Daphne didn't let up. She was quick on her feet, casting again before Harry had even regained balance. Hermione mirrored her movements, slipping into position without needing to speak. They moved like they'd done this before. Cover, pressure, cast. Over and over.
Ron was sweating, arms tense, blocking one spell while dodging another. "Anytime now, Harry!"
"I'm trying," Harry snapped. He spun low and sent a stinger toward Hermione. She leapt back, barely missed a follow-up from Ron, then fired one right back at him.
Daphne seized the opening, wand flashing toward Ron again. He jumped behind a desk just in time. The spell hit with a sharp crack, splintering wood across the floor.
Ron popped up from behind the desk, aiming straight for Hermione. "Take this!"
Before the words even left his mouth, Daphne's spell hit him square in the side. His legs gave out and he dropped with a loud thud.
"Oh, come on!" he groaned, sprawled out on the floor.
"Out," Daphne said simply, already shifting her focus.
Harry didn't have time to look. Hermione was still moving, fast and smart, circling wide and trying to catch him from behind. He heard her step and turned just in time to meet her spell with his own.
Their magic collided midair with a crack and fizzed out in a burst of sparks.
She narrowed her eyes and raised her wand again. So did he.
He faked left, rolled right, and fired. Hermione fired back.
His stunner caught her shoulder and knocked her off balance. She hit the ground with a surprised "Oof" and rolled onto her back, wand slipping from her hand.
Harry lowered his.
She stared at the ceiling for a second. "Okay. Fine. That was good."
"Thanks," Harry said, already turning to face Daphne.
She was waiting. Wand in hand. Calm. Ready.
No teams now. Just them.
She moved first. "Expulso!"
The stone floor buckled and lifted beneath his feet. Harry rolled clear, came up fast, and shot a stunner that barely missed her ribs. She fired back without blinking. "Confringo!"
He ducked. The explosion lit the corner in white sparks.
Daphne pushed forward, aggressive and fast, wand slashing through the air.
Harry dropped low and shouted, "Glacius!"
Ice blasted across the floor, catching her mid-step. Her boots froze in place with a sharp crack.
Her eyes widened. She tried to twist out, too late.
Harry planted his feet, wand tight in his grip. "Arenafors!"
The burst slammed out of him like a shockwave. The frozen ground shattered beneath Daphne and launched her backwards. Her wand flew from her hand. She hit the ground hard and slid across the floor.
Harry straightened up, chest heaving.
Daphne lay sprawled near the far wall. "That's cheating," she muttered.
Harry grinned. "It's strategy."
She blinked at the ceiling. "…Okay. That was kinda hot."
~~~
"…You always cast Stupefy too early," Daphne was saying, sprawled on the floor, wand twirling between her fingers. "You panic the second someone moves."
"I do not," Ron grumbled from the desk beside her, legs dangling, face still flushed from training. "I time it. There's a rhythm."
"There's wishful thinking," Daphne said. "You nearly hit Hermione."
"Yeah, well, she ducked late."
Hermione didn't look up from her parchment. "I ducked because someone shouted like a banshee."
"That was me being strategic," Ron muttered, then leaned back with a sigh. "Merlin. I miss Quidditch."
That pulled a small sound from Daphne. Not quite a laugh.
Ron looked over. "What?"
"Nothing," she said, biting back a smile. "Just didn't think I'd hear you say something I actually agree with."
"You play?"
"Of course I play," she said, sitting up. "Just not on the Slytherin team. Too much drama, not enough talent."
Ron's eyebrows shot up. "You're kidding. Pucey's not terrible."
"He's a show-off who can't pass. Montague's worse. I've seen first-years with better broom control."
Ron laughed. "Alright. Fair."
Across the room, Harry glanced at Hermione. She looked up at him just long enough to flash a small, knowing smile.
Harry smiled back.
~~~
Yesterday's training with his friends had been something Harry really needed. It helped him relax and let go of all the tension that had built up. But like always, there were some things you just couldn't run from. That night, from Thursday into Friday, he couldn't sleep at all. His thoughts kept spinning through the spells he had learned while the pressure kept building.
When they finally parted ways, Daphne gave him a long hug and told him she'd see him after the First Task. If he came back in one piece, she was taking him out for a butterbeer in Hogsmeade. That caught Ron and Hermione completely off guard. It seemed they hadn't realized how close Harry and Daphne had become. Ron stared at him like he had grown a second head.
Around four in the morning, an owl tapped on the window beside his bed. Harry opened it quickly, grabbed the package, and let the owl fly off into the freezing November dark. He didn't want to wake the others.
Richard had made it in time. The package was big and tightly packed. There was a small note tied to it with just one word written clearly:
Survive.
Harry sat on the bed and opened the package. Inside was a full outfit, folded neatly.
On top was a hoodie made from basilisk hide. Dark green, almost black, with a smooth inside that felt soft but strong. The hood was deep, and the edges were stitched with a faint silver thread that shimmered slightly. It looked like it could handle wind, rain, and maybe even a few spells.
Under it was a tight black shirt and a pair of fitted pants. Both were light and stretchy, but when Harry touched the fabric, he could tell there was more to it. You could run in this. Fight in it. The scaled pattern was barely visible, but it was there.
Next were thick socks and dark boots. The boots were high around the ankle, with strong soles that gripped the floor. They looked built for all kinds of terrain.
At the bottom of the box was a wand holster. Simple and sharp. It clipped inside the hoodie's sleeve and locked into place when he slid his wand in.
Thanks, Richard, Harry thought, smiling to himself.
~~~
He forced himself to eat. Toast, eggs, a bite of sausage. It didn't sit right, but he chewed anyway. Across the table, Ron was poking at his food with no real interest. Hermione wasn't touching hers at all. She sat quietly, eyes fixed on Harry like she was trying to read his thoughts.
He didn't say anything. What was there to say?
The doors opened and everyone turned to take a look.
Dumbledore entered first, with Bagman, Crouch, and the other officials close behind. Most eyes didn't stay on them for long. They landed on the stranger near the back.
He wore dark layered robes lined with gold thread. A charm pulsed faintly at his collar, casting soft rings of light across the floor with each step. No one knew his name.
He took his place beside the Goblet.
Dumbledore raised a hand, and the hall fell still.
"Good morning," he said, eyes twinkling faintly. "I hope you have all had something to eat. It would be a shame to face the unknown on an empty stomach."
He stepped closer to the Goblet, robes brushing the floor.
"Today, four students will begin a task none of us may fully understand. That is the nature of magic this old. It doesn't ask for permission, or explain itself politely. It simply waits. And now, it calls."
He paused, letting the words settle.
"They are prepared as anyone can be. They are as brave as anyone needs to be. And above all, they are ours. From this moment, they will step into something strange and ancient. Let them walk with your trust."
Dumbledore's eyes swept the room once.
"And now," he said, stepping aside, "we begin."
The man from the Department of Mysteries moved forward.
Dumbledore turned to face the hall.
"Champions! Please step forward."
Chairs scraped the floor. All eyes followed the four students as they rose from their tables and made their way toward the Goblet. Krum. Fleur. Cedric. Harry.
They stood in a line. The hall had gone completely still.
Dumbledore walked past each of them, pausing only long enough to check they carried nothing but their wands. No potions. No charms. Just what they could cast.
He reached Harry last.
His hands rested on Harry's shoulders for a moment. He gave a small, warm smile.
"Good luck, my boy." Harry nodded.
Then the man from the Department of Mysteries began to sing.
The sound was strange. Ancient. Deep.
The Goblet flared.
Blue turned white, then gold, then something hotter, almost scarlet. It buzzed louder with every note, power building fast.
Dumbledore raised his wand and cast upward. A wide screen shimmered into view above the Goblet. It floated high, where everyone could see.
Four streams of liquid energy burst from the Goblet of Fire, each one pulsing with golden flame. They stopped midair, hovering in front of each champion.
The man began to sing louder now. He raised both arms, spreading them wide, and the Goblet responded, pulsing faster, deeper, like it was alive.
Harry glanced around. Fleur stared at the energy in front of her, frozen in shock. His own palms were slick with sweat. He wiped them quickly on his trousers.
Before he could do anything else, the man stopped singing.
The Great Hall fell into dead silence.
A beat later, the golden streams surged forward.
The champions vanished and first task had begun.