Ron leaned against the wall, gasping for air, sweat trickling down his cheeks and soaking the front of his robe.
Still panting, he grumbled, "I've figured it out. If we run into Filch at night, never follow Fred and George! That guy's got his eyes locked on you two!"
"I told you to split up!" Fred threw his hands up, looking innocent. "You're the one who insisted on sticking with us."
Ron shot him a death glare, his voice dripping with frustration. "You guys swore up and down your sneaking skills were foolproof. And what happened? I nearly got clawed by Filch's cat!"
"But we didn't get caught, did we?" Fred raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Doesn't that prove our skills?"
George stepped forward, clapping Ron hard on the shoulder with a grin. "Gotta say, I underestimated you. You kept up the whole way without falling behind. That's some progress!"
Ron opened his mouth to argue but paused as Luna reached out and scratched a lifelike pear painted on a portrait.
The pear let out a goofy "giggle," then puffed up, transforming into a shiny brass doorknob.
Everyone quickly hushed, taking turns twisting the knob and slipping into the kitchen.
The moment they stepped inside, they froze.
Hufflepuff students were already bustling about.
Some were learning from house-elves how to pack pumpkin pies, others were stacking chilled pumpkin juice bottles into baskets, and a few were picking out golden-brown cookies, clearly a step ahead.
Students from the three houses locked eyes, instantly understanding each other's mission.
They were all here to gather treats to celebrate their house champions.
Ravenclaw didn't have a champion, but to them, Dylan might as well be one of their own.
After all, he'd recovered their lost diadem.
So they'd ventured out to whip up a surprise for him.
When it came to food, Hufflepuffs were the experts. They guided everyone with ease, pointing out the most popular snacks, the best-tasting drinks, and even showing them how to use magical preservation boxes to keep everything fresh.
With their help, Luna, Fred, and the others quickly filled baskets to the brim. Even Neville ended up with a small bag of honey cakes.
On the way back, as they rounded a corridor corner, they spotted Slytherin's Gregory Goyle standing alone, staring blankly at the floor.
Luna stopped first, pulling a pack of chocolate frogs from her basket and handing it to him. The others followed suit, digging into their stashes to share—Fred passed over some Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Anthony gave a toffee, and even Ron, after a moment's hesitation, offered a cookie.
When Draco returned to the Slytherin common room, he immediately noticed the long table piled high with all sorts of snacks.
Chocolate frogs, pumpkin pies, and juice bottles covered every inch.
Frowning, he asked, "Where'd all this come from?"
Every Slytherin in his year turned to Goyle, who was sneaking a cookie.
"I… uh, Luna and the Gryffindors gave it to me," Goyle mumbled, his mouth full. "Then the others chipped in too."
He paused, then added, "Oh, and the Weasley twins gave me some Every Flavor Beans. I ate them already. No weird flavors, which was… odd."
"Alright," Draco said, shaking his head. He stepped closer to Goyle. "They didn't say anything? Just handed you stuff for no reason?"
"Luna said something," Goyle replied, furrowing his brow as he tried to recall. "Something about how we're all Hogwarts champions, so we should share the good stuff. The Weasleys said the same thing, I think."
Draco raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. Looking at the table of treats, the corner of his mouth twitched into a small smile.
He got it. This was the other houses' way of celebrating Hogwarts' four champions.
As Dylan reached the Gryffindor common room door, he barely had time to brace himself before a deafening wave of noise—cheers, applause, and chatter—burst out from inside.
It was so loud it nearly knocked him back a step.
"What's going on?" Harry muttered, startled.
Before he could react, the door flew open, and several Gryffindor Quidditch team members swarmed them, hoisting Dylan and Harry up without a word.
"Here we go! Our champions are back!" they shouted, carrying them toward the center of the common room.
Dylan grabbed a teammate's arm for balance, realizing his feet weren't even touching the ground.
The common room, usually quiet by now, was transformed, buzzing with energy.
Dozens of transparent crystal orbs floated under the ceiling, spinning slowly and casting colorful beams that lit up the room.
Red, blue, and gold ribbons twirled around, fluttering gently in the air.
When they were set down on a cushioned spot in the center, Dylan finally took in the scene.
Nearly every Gryffindor was there, some holding snacks fresh from the kitchen, others clutching juice cups, all grinning ear to ear.
As Dylan and Harry steadied themselves, a chorus of congratulations erupted.
"Dylan! Harry! You guys are incredible! You didn't let us down!"
"I knew you'd both be champions! I was on edge in the Great Hall!"
"Gryffindor's got two champions! That's huge!"
As the cheers died down, someone piped up with the question on everyone's mind.
"But Hogwarts has an extra champion. What's the judging panel gonna do about it?"
Others chimed in right away.
"Yeah, in the Great Hall, Durmstrang's headmaster looked furious. They're not gonna let this slide."
"Karkaroff was grumbling. He might try to mess with you!"
Dylan raised a hand, calming the crowd with a gentle smile. "We've already worked it out with the headmasters."
He paused, then said clearly, "I'm competing as a fourth group on my own for the tasks. When it's all done, my score will be added to Harry, Cedric, and Malfoy's, and we'll take the average."
He glanced at the group. "I bet tomorrow morning, there'll be an official announcement on the castle's notice board with all the details."
"That makes sense!" Fred said, exhaling in relief and clapping his hands. "Doesn't matter how it works—you're a champion! Here, try this pumpkin pie. The Hufflepuffs said it's their specialty!"
Someone handed over a neatly wrapped pie, and the room exploded into cheers again, the crystal orbs' light dancing across everyone's faces in a festive glow.
---
Harry woke earlier than usual.
As his eyes cracked open, a faint pinkish-yellow glow slipped through the gap in his bed curtains, soft as a veil.
It was barely dawn, the castle still silent, even the birds outside chirping sleepily.
Propping himself up, he leaned against the cool stone bedpost. His fingers brushed something smooth.
Looking down, he saw it tucked under the edge of his pillow, part of it peeking out from the blanket.
He picked it up and unfolded it—a Gryffindor flag with a golden lion embroidered on it, the fabric thick and smooth.
Memories of last night's chaos flooded back.
The common room's cheers, the fluttering ribbons, Lee Jordan rushing over with this flag, tying it around Harry's neck like a cape, shouting, "Our champion's gotta have some flair!"
They'd tried to do the same for Dylan, but he'd waved them off.
The excitement from last night still buzzed in his head.
But holding the flag now, Harry felt a sudden weight in his arms, sinking from his fingers to his chest.
Lee Jordan's voice echoed in his mind, clear as if he were standing there: "Check out this flag! A true Gryffindor relic! Harry, you're our house's hope. Don't lose to those other schools!"
The words hit like a pebble, rippling through his heart.
He straightened up, but his shoulders felt heavy, like something was pressing down with every breath.
A thought crept in.
He wasn't ready.
What was the first task?
What spells would he need?
What if there was a danger he couldn't handle?
He didn't have answers to any of it.
If he messed up and dragged down Cedric, Dylan, and the others, lowering their average score, what then? Would the classmates who cheered and shoved pumpkin pies into his hands last night be disappointed?
It seemed like everyone thought Dylan was the real standout anyway.
Harry gripped the flag's edge tightly.
He thought of the other Hogwarts champions.
Cedric was always steady—probably prepared already, right?
And Draco Malfoy? Was he lying awake, worrying about screwing up too?
Sighing softly, Harry glanced at Ron and Dylan's four-poster beds across from him.
Ron's curtains were half-open, revealing him sprawled out, fast asleep.
Listening closely, Harry caught snippets of mumbled sleep-talk: "Spider… stay back… get away…"
Ron's head twitched, his brow furrowed, like he was dodging something in his dreams.
Harry chuckled but felt a pang of sympathy. He slipped out of bed quietly, careful not to wake Ron.
As for Dylan, he was already up and gone.
Harry grabbed his school robes from the wardrobe, buttoning them up. On the third button, he glanced back at the flag, folded it neatly, and set it by his pillow before slipping out of the common room.
The castle was eerily quiet, his footsteps echoing in the corridors.
Wandering aimlessly, he found himself in the entrance hall.
As he rounded a corner, he stopped short.
Draco Malfoy leaned against the fireplace, clutching his wand, fingers tracing its length.
His face was ghostly pale, dark circles under his eyes like he'd been punched. He clearly hadn't slept.
Harry instinctively wanted to back away.
He and Draco had never gotten along, and even though Draco hadn't caused trouble lately, they weren't exactly buddies.
But as he hesitated, Dylan's words about averaging their scores came to mind.
Once the tasks started, they'd be a Hogwarts team. They couldn't keep butting heads.
Plus, this year, Draco had changed. After that one unhinged rant at Dylan, he'd toned down the snark. Harry had even caught him in the library, buried in thick books, barely acknowledging Pansy's chatter.
Taking a deep breath, Harry walked forward, stopping a few steps from Draco. "Didn't sleep well?" he asked.
Draco's head snapped up, a flash of panic in his eyes before his usual arrogance returned. He scoffed, chin lifting. "Just up early. I'm always up at this hour, unlike some people who need an alarm to drag them out of bed."
Harry glanced at the dark bags under Draco's eyes, smirking slightly but letting the lie slide.
The entrance hall brightened as light streamed through the stained-glass windows, spilling over them. Neither spoke, the only sound the occasional crackle of dying embers in the fireplace.
They stood there for a while, silent.
The fireplace coals cooled.
Then footsteps echoed from the corridor, and Dylan walked in.
"Morning, Harry," Dylan said, his gaze sweeping over their faces. He quickly noticed their heavy eye bags and the worry etched between their brows.
"What's up? You two look like you didn't sleep a wink."
"I'm just an early riser," Draco said quickly, recycling his excuse with a haughty tilt of his chin. He shot Harry a glance. "Potter, on the other hand, looks rough. Definitely didn't sleep."
"You're the one who didn't sleep!" Harry shot back, his voice rising. "I've been up early since I joined the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Wood had us training at dawn! Even now that he's graduated, I haven't broken the habit. I'm not up because I couldn't sleep!"
"I thought you were asleep early last night," Dylan said, nodding without pressing further.
He looked at Harry and Draco, his tone turning serious. "I didn't sleep much either. Kept thinking about the tasks."
He'd stayed up a whole ten minutes later than usual.
Pausing, Dylan's eyes flicked between them. "The first task hasn't been detailed yet, but there's got to be some clues, right?"
"Clues?" Draco frowned, like something clicked. "You mean the questions about the Triwizard Tournament's history during the selection?"