Helga paced up and down the ramshackle dining room while she waited for the others. They had agreed to meet at the Shrieking Shack. It was the only place they had to meet at that time, as they couldn't risk someone seeing her in the castle and the rumours reaching the headmaster. She had to tread cautiously, and if she chose to enter, she should do so when she could not be discovered. If she was honest with herself, she preferred the "freedom of action" of the previous year, especially after what happened at the World Cups. She knew that the Minister had offered Dumbledore a detachment of Aurors as extra security for the tournament, something the Headmaster had refused. At least there was something that reassured her: her former mentor would be a teacher at Hogwarts. Although, to tell the truth, it was difficult for her to imagine him teaching. Alastor Moody was never someone who had much patience for foolishness, and children often had no measure in committing them. She smiled; that was something she would pay to see.
Helga looked at the secret entrance as she heard the creaking of a floorboard. She didn't see anyone, but that didn't mean there was no one. A few seconds later, she could see the three of them emerge from under the Invisibility Cloak that belonged to Salazar. The four of them sat around a round, somewhat dilapidated table.
"It's a shame not to be able to get together like last year, don't you think?" Rowena said.
"Albus Dumbledore," Helga snorted. "He doesn't want us Aurors to be distracted by matters of minor substance."
"I'm not surprised," Salazar said.
"In two weeks, the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will arrive," Godric reported. "They are scheduled to arrive on the afternoon of October 30th, and the champions will be selected on October 31st during dinner." This news had Salazar upset.
"Misfortunes always happen on that day," he commented simply.
"Which is why we must be especially vigilant," Godric said. "Dumbledore said that an impartial judge would choose the champion of each school. I don't think it's anyone from the Ministry, or from the participating schools. Whoever it is, if Salazar thinks he may be in danger, it must be taken into account."
"It's an object," Helga clarified. "The Goblet of Fire. It was created with ancestral magic by the three headmasters who promoted the first of the tournaments. The Goblet is in the custody of the school that wins the last tournament. In the event that the host is not the one who has custody, it must be delivered to the host two months before the official start of the tournament. On this occasion, there has been no movement of the Goblet, although I know that the winner of the last tournament must have been Durmstrang, since the one before that was Beauxbatons and the previous one was at Hogwarts. All before good sense prevailed and they suspended it because of the number of deaths."
"So they've altered the cycle," Salazar murmured, frowning.
"We'll have to keep an eye on that Goblet," Rowena said, her expression determined.
"Do you really think something is going to happen?" Helga asked her three friends, who were dressed in student robes.
"It's a very dangerous tournament that has been revived with numerous security measures. That's not a bad thing initially," Salazar admitted. "Of course, after what happened at the World Cups... I don't trust it. That was not clarified, was it? And a tournament like this generates as much anticipation as the World Cups themselves."
"A golden opportunity for the chess piece to be moved," Rowena agreed. "They shouldn't have gone on with this."
"Crouch didn't want the World Cup to affect the tournament," Helga reported. "He managed to make the other look like an isolated incident with no potential relation to the tournament."
"My grandmother says Crouch is desperate to regain credibility," Godric said. "First, about his son years ago, and recently the Sirius thing came to light. The compensation he had to pay was significant, and to that, you add the public disgrace."
"He deserves it," Salazar said coldly. He knew that if he was interested, he could take compensation for the grievance himself. "But let's not get sidetracked. We have a more dangerous problem on our hands. Yesterday, Godric and I were finally able to sneak into the Room of Requirement. Voldemort is on British soil; he is located in the area where we find one of his anchors."
"And that's not the only thing," Godric announced. One could see the gravity that his voice had acquired at that moment. So the news was bad and important. "He's created another Horcrux. He keeps it close to him."
"I find it incredible that someone has mutilated their soul so much and continues to do so," Rowena commented. "Anyone else would have killed themselves before getting to that point."
"He's not just anyone. He's a monster. He is kept alive by sheer evil. It's way above normal evil," Helga growled. "There is no other explanation."
"What is evident is that he is in motion. He may be preparing to return," Godric observed.
"He needs a body. It's what he's most desperately looking for, a body with which to have his power to its full potential. The Philosopher's Stone would have provided it years ago," Salazar said. "Supposedly that stone no longer exists. It was destroyed, according to our headmaster."
"I'll do some research in the Black family's library," Helga said. "I don't think it's wise for any of you to do it here, not even in your common room, Rowena."
"Of course, sneaking into the Restricted Section is not an option, and we don't have a 'Professor Lockhart' who signs a permit without looking at what he signs," Salazar commented. Helga could see how Rowena and Godric laughed covertly at that comment. She looked questionably at Salazar, who replied that he would tell her later with a slight gesture.
"Let's move on to the next point," Godric said. "The Defence professor. I think he's barmy, a bit unhinged."
"Don't exaggerate!" Helga defended him. "He's an eccentric and paranoid, yes, but..."
"He showed us the Unforgivables in class," Godric said. You could tell he was furious. He did not raise his voice. He didn't need to. The tone and his expression said it all. "He used spells on a spider in front of a classroom of kids, old enough to laugh at the spider being subjected to the Imperius until he stopped them in their tracks by threatening to make the spider commit suicide and that it could happen to anyone. I'll admit that comment was a good lesson, but... he seemed to be revelling in the curses, enjoying what he was doing."
"That he showed you that doesn't surprise me. He broke with the concepts we all had of those curses and many others by demonstrating them with scorpions. But enjoying it?" Helga frowned. "It's true that those curses require a mixture of intention and desire to make the victim feel that. Annulment of the will, pain... Enjoying it is excessive, I don't believe it. Perhaps he only pretended to do so for your benefit."
"Maybe. But I have a question. Would it also be in his nature to bewitch us with the Imperius Curse so that we know what it feels like to be under it? She said she wanted to teach us to resist it," Salazar whispered.
"Well, at the Auror academy, there were times when I thought he would. He never did, he only told us about tools such as mental firmness and the ability to relax the mind to let the intrusion pass. I don't think he'll ever use it on children, whose minds aren't fully formed yet and could be damaged. If he did, that would surprise me. He's kind of paranoid, I've already told you."
"He transformed one who was bothering some first-years into a ferret. I think they call him Montagne," said Rowena.
"That doesn't surprise me. That's how he treated those who gave him problems in the Auror academy. As I've heard, one of those who suffered the most from this punishment for not using his head was Dawlish."
"Well, it must not have been of much use to you. Anyone would say that he has air instead of a brain," Salazar said.
"Kingsley already told me how stupid he was at the World Cups," Helga said, rolling her eyes and shaking her head slightly. "Dawlish is currently Fudge's attack dog."
"There's something about Moody that I don't like anyway," Godric said.
"His paranoia may have increased. We haven't spoken for two years, but I'll try to get closer to him. Just pass me the calendar of Hogsmeade visits."
"I'll send it to you in a few days. I think this year there are some more than the typical ones," Salazar said, giving her a meaningful look.
Helga was aware that it was getting late and that her three friends had to return to the castle. Which was a shame, because she would love to spend more time with them, especially with Salazar. The conversation lasted a few more minutes. They planned at that time the way to proceed to watch the Goblet as soon as it was placed. She knew that if the other schools arrived on the 30th and the election was on the 31st, they were to watch him during the night of the 30th to the 31st.
"Take the cloak," Salazar said, handing her the Invisibility Cloak.
"Better not. Alastor can see through the layers. I'll dress up as a student."
A disguise was the best of the options; that's why she had told them about the cloak. She knew that if they suspected Alastor they would try to keep an eye on him, and if Mad-Eye caught them with the cloak, they could be in serious trouble.
---
October 30th finally arrived. It had been a difficult week for Salazar, during which Moody had subjected him to the Imperius Curse four times in a single class so the rest of the students could witness his resistance. He had succeeded the first time, but the professor had repeatedly insisted. He had done something similar with Godric until Hermione yelled at him again. The last time, after the incident with the Cruciatus Curse on the spider, the professor had focused on Hermione, casting the spell treacherously and forcing her to act like a beaver. Most of the class laughed, and Salazar felt nothing but contempt for those "idiots."
Aside from that, earlier that day, Snape had them try their antidotes. Seeing that Salazar's had worked perfectly, he'd assured him that he would be the "guinea pig" for the whole class. Fortunately, he'd escaped this fate by sheer luck, as the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang delegations arrived, interrupting the class. Otherwise, he surely would have ended up poisoned by one of his classmates' potions. Salazar was relieved the class had been interrupted, as he would have exploded just as it seemed Godric had been about to do. He would settle accounts with Snape in due course. His behaviour was not appropriate for a teacher, and he wasn't the kind of teacher Hogwarts needed if he was going to take out his school quarrels with the parents on the children.
"Gryffindors this way!" Professor McGonagall announced. "You must place yourselves in years, one after the other."
Salazar got the impression they were being lined up, something very military in style. It seemed as if they were trying to project a formality that Hogwarts lacked. It seemed silly to him. Around him, he heard people commenting on waiting outside for those from the other schools. Did they really have to do that? The students didn't stop speculating.
"How do you think they will come?" "I suppose in a Portkey, like at the World Cups." "Maybe on brooms." "Perhaps they'll take the train to Hogsmeade and come walking."
Salazar sincerely doubted it. He imagined that before that, they would try to make a manoeuvre of intimidation and a demonstration of power. It was a competition, after all, so they would surely compete to see who could make the biggest triumphant entrance. A few more minutes proved him right. Beauxbatons arrived in a large carriage pulled by Abraxans, and Durmstrang arrived in a boat with which they emerged from the middle of the lake. Salazar wondered how they had managed to transport themselves like this.
When they all entered the castle, following the students of the invited schools, they went to the Great Hall for the celebration; it was already dinner time. The Beauxbatons students sat at the Ravenclaw table and the Durmstrang students sat at the Slytherin table, which was logical considering they were the two least crowded.
"...Welcome our guests and make them feel like they are at home. Remember that the main purpose of this tournament is to establish bonds of friendship between different nations." The Headmaster's speech was a bit long, all to say that winning was secondary. Salazar thought that if someone signed up for the circus that was the tournament, it was to win. "Now let me introduce you to the two remaining judges, the representatives of our Ministry: Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation, and Mr. Ludovic Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Give them a big round of applause for their efforts in reviving this venerable tournament."
The applause was more for Bagman than for Crouch. Many saw the former as more likeable and pleasant than the latter, not to mention that he was already famous from his days as a Quidditch player. Crouch, on the other hand, had the appearance of a serious and inflexible person, of an unpleasant person. That, added to the fact that the discovery of his conduct in the Sirius Black case thirteen years ago was still very recent, didn't exactly make him popular.
"Mr. Filch, please. Bring the chest," Dumbledore ordered.
The murmurs soon spread through the Great Hall. Many wondered what the chest was. It was soon known that it was a large and heavy wooden box that there was no human way to carry with one's hands. It had to be moved, preferably with magic, which Filch couldn't do because he was a Squib, so he had to push it all the way across the Great Hall. That garnered a few laughs from many of the students, almost the entire dining room, and even some of the guests. Salazar had to nudge Ron to stop him from laughing. He didn't find the thing funny.
"Sometimes I think Dumbledore does it on purpose," Godric murmured.
"What?" Hermione asked. "He's a good Headmaster. He hasn't done anything."
"Asking Filch to bring you something heavy because he's a Squib, or having him hired in a magic school, where he watches hundreds of children do what he can never do," Godric said. "That's a cruel thing."
"Seen like that, you may be right," Hermione admitted.
The chest was left in front of Dumbledore, who took out his wand and with a certain ceremony, uncovered the chest, exhibiting a beautiful goblet of blue flames that unfolded upwards, on display before everyone. That was to be the famous Goblet of Fire. From where he stood, Salazar could feel the power emanating from the object. It was a power to create binding contracts, but not to the name itself but to the magical essence of whoever presented themselves as a candidate before the Goblet. It was a very powerful object.
"This is the Goblet of Fire," Dumbledore announced. "The candidates will only have to approach and leave their names. You will have until tomorrow before dinner to deposit your names. The champions will be announced once the dinner is over," he explained. "To prevent underage candidates from trying to cheat the Goblet, I will draw an Age Line. The Goblet will remain in the entrance hall until tomorrow before dinner."
Salazar observed several of those around him and even heard the twins say something about an aging potion. He didn't think it would be that simple. It would be easier for them to try to score the parchment with his name on it. But it was something he wasn't going to mention to anyone. He wasn't going to give them ideas. What they tried didn't worry him; he knew that Dumbledore wasn't such an idiot and he was going to cover any idea that a magical teenager might have. Wizards didn't have much tendency to use Muggle methods. The really worrying thing was that it didn't look like Dumbledore was going to guard the Goblet at night. That, in his eyes, was a mistake. The Goblet was a fundamental element of the tournament and had to be controlled. Fortunately, he and his friends had a plan to stand guard.
Salazar and Godric convinced Ron and Hermione to go ahead, that they needed to talk to Rowena in private. It was the best way to sneak away. They couldn't risk wasting time going up to the common rooms and waiting for everyone to fall asleep. It had to be a night of full guard, at least that was the initial forecast, and they hoped to fulfil it. The three of them covered themselves with their cloak and went to the corner where Helga was waiting for them.
"They'll set up the Goblet in the hall," Rowena said, looking at her friend.
"I have the perfect place to hide. It's one of the spots I've prepared. No one will detect us," Helga said.
"Not even Moody?" Godric asked. Salazar knew that his friend was still bothered by him.
"That eye can't see through lead."
They hid where they could see the entire hall. Godric leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, Rowena seemed to be staring into space, and Salazar took Helga's hand. None of the four expected there to be movement until all the students left. Madame Maxime took her students with her at once, probably to rest. Igor Karkaroff, on the other hand, made his students wait while the Goblet was placed in the centre of the hall and the Age Line was drawn. The Durmstrang students deposited their names in the Goblet and left the hall.
The place was empty for a couple of hours, during which they began to theorise about what the missing Horcrux could be, the new one he had created, and why he kept it with him. Seeing the obsession he had with the objects that had belonged to them or their families, it wasn't much use to theorise about it, but they had to pass the time with something. They fell silent as soon as the door to the hall opened again and Igor Karkaroff entered. They saw him approach the Goblet, enter the circle, and cast some spells on it. Then he left. The four waited a reasonable amount of time before approaching. It was Rowena who examined the Goblet.
"He's manipulated it to cancel the candidacies of all his students except one, Viktor Krum," she said.
"Can we reverse it?" Helga asked.
"Not certainly," Rowena replied. "We could affect it too much."
"Let's not take the risk," Godric said.
"You don't want to take risks?" Salazar looked at his friend, raising an eyebrow in amusement.
"If he wants to play with a single card, it's not up to us," Godric said.
"Maybe it's because Krum has a head full of air and is more manageable," Rowena said.
"Karkaroff wants to be the one to compete through a 'straw man' who surely doesn't know that he is a mere pawn," Salazar summarised. "Let's keep our guard."
It took another three hours for something new to happen. The castle was asleep at that hour; they were even sure that both Filch and the teachers knew it. That is why the sudden movement surprised them. They thought it was a student or something, but no. It was Alastor Moody. They saw him approach the Goblet, cast some spells, and then insert a fragment of parchment into it. They waited until the sound of his wooden leg ceased to echo before approaching the Goblet.
"Rowena, proceed," Helga urged. Salazar could see in her expression a mixture of surprise, bewilderment, and concern.
"He's made the Goblet believe that there's a fourth school competing," she said after a few minutes. "Harry Potter is the student at that school. There is no way to reverse it."
"You can refuse to participate," Godric said, looking at Salazar. "That artefact captures the magic of the one who throws the paper; it will be linked to him, not to you."
"I don't understand why he did this," Helga said, her voice a mix of disappointment and fury.
"We'll find out," Salazar said. "We'll continue to see where this leads."
"Are you sure?" Helga asked. "An oath that you haven't put the name in should suffice."
"Maybe, but even though I've improved my grades, I'm still a kid who doesn't know anything about the world."
"Will you be careful?" Helga asked him.
"Of course," Salazar replied. As they exchanged those words, they grew closer to each other.
"Anyone would say you're alone here, the two of you," Rowena said. "We can leave."
"I always tell them to go to a hotel, but they don't listen to me," Godric stretched. "Shall we continue with the guard or shall we go to sleep?"
---
Albus Dumbledore was having a good day. He had foreseen from the start that some students would try to trick the Goblet of Fire into entering the tournament. So, he had set the Age Line to look for any trick used to make a person temporarily age. The results were quite amusing, with students ending up with greying hair and a grown beard. He had a lot of fun throughout the day, watching this happen. In fact, he had to resist the temptation to take a photograph of them as a souvenir. Even though that would have been inappropriate for someone in his position, he could always treasure those moments.
Shortly before dinner began, both Dumbledore and the other judges placed the Goblet of Fire in the Great Hall, leaving it in front of the staff table. Since the previous night, he had ensured that the typical dishes of the regions where the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang schools were located were served, wanting them to feel welcome. He would have the rest of the course to introduce them to British gastronomy.
When the supper was over, he stood up and advanced towards the Goblet of Fire. As he moved, he noticed that the entire Great Hall had fallen completely silent, waiting for something to happen. They were expectant.
"Shortly, the Goblet will announce our champions. When their names are called, they must go through the lobby and exit through the door behind the staff table. There, they will await further instructions."
Dumbledore could feel the increase in anticipation among the students. It didn't take long for the Goblet to begin its work, causing the blue flames to grow larger and turn red. Dumbledore was certain that people thought the Goblet was making its decision at that moment. If only they knew that the decision had been made half an hour earlier, and that their contact with it was what signalled to the Goblet that it was time to show the candidates. But no, he wasn't going to spoil the magic of the moment. That would completely break the spell. The flames spat a fragment of parchment into the air, which he had to catch. He read it before announcing it publicly.
"The Durmstrang champion is Viktor Krum!"
Dumbledore's gaze focused on the Bulgarian Seeker, whom he saw rise to the ovations of his Durmstrang classmates and many of the Hogwarts students. He was clearly famous and well-known, although he didn't exactly look the cleverest. Dumbledore didn't think Krum would be a great competitor, but the important thing was that he would be an excellent contact for the future. He sensed that Voldemort was orchestrating his return, and it would be important to have allies abroad when he emerged from the shadows. It was something he had already done with Grindelwald, weaving a web of influence with unorthodox methods of communication. He only hoped that the one chosen by the Goblet of Fire would not be problematic for international relations. The Goblet of Fire reverted to large, reddish flames, before ejecting a new fragment of parchment.
"The Beauxbatons champion is Fleur Delacour!"
The applause this time was not widespread, but rather somewhat cold—more symbolic than celebratory. The Beauxbatons students seemed a little disappointed with the choice. Dumbledore could tell it was a matter of racism by the way they looked at her, as the girl seemed to have Veela ancestry. It seemed strange to him that Madame Maxime would allow such attitudes among her students. The Goblet chose the one it found the most worthy candidate among all those presented, so the girl's ancestry didn't matter. The Goblet chose the one with the greatest magical potential in each school. Sometimes, twelve-year-old children had been selected over almost-trained wizards, simply because their potential was greater. That was the reason for limiting the tournament to a minimum age; it was one more filter.
Now, the expectation on the part of Hogwarts was at its highest. The representative of the school he directed would be announced shortly. The flames turned red for the third and final time, now spitting out the name of the third champion. He hoped it would be someone who would bring great credit to the school.
"The Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory!"
The applause was almost uniform on this occasion. Most of it came from all over Hufflepuff House, some from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, and a few Slytherins. Just seeing that, he was sure that once the initial surprise was over, everyone would support Diggory. No one would have expected a champion to come out of Hufflepuff House; to be honest, he had not even imagined it. A Gryffindor, or perhaps a Slytherin, had been expected—though a Gryffindor was better suited for something like that. At least he was comforted that having a Hufflepuff as a representative was better than having a Slytherin.
"Now that the champions have been chosen, I hope you will not hesitate to support them, for difficult trials await them and—"
Then something surprising happened. Something that no one expected. The Goblet of Fire transformed its blue flames into red for a fourth time and spat out one more name. Dumbledore had to read it several times because of the surprise, before reading it aloud.
"—Harry Potter!"
The Great Hall was filled with murmurs, strange looks, bad looks at the boy, and comments full of anger that called him a "cheater." He had to call him a second time. It was then that young Harry began to slowly make his way towards the staff table. He seemed confused and scared, and it was no wonder.
"Harry, go inside with the other champions," he said, handing him the parchment from the Goblet of Fire.
Dumbledore made his way to the rest of the Great Hall. He tried to make them see that there was a misunderstanding there and sent them all to bed to rest. They had to solve the situation, but there was no obvious solution. Once the Goblet gave a name, there was no going back—or so most thought. Only a few knew about the safety mechanisms of the Goblet, and he was not going to be the one to mention them. In fact, he was sure that besides Crouch, no one else knew. Crouch was upset because his corruption had been uncovered thanks to Harry Potter. Dumbledore was sure that Gryffindor and Hufflepuff houses had much to celebrate. Once the students had been dismissed and, with the confidence that the teachers would be in charge of controlling everything, it was time to confront the situation.
"Alastor, Severus, come with me," he requested. He didn't ask Minerva because he knew she wouldn't allow him to take advantage of the situation and expose the boy as bait. It was clear that Harry had not cheated the Goblet, and that whoever had done so had a motive. Using Harry like this was the best way to uncover what that motive was, but the boy couldn't know. It would be scaring him more than necessary, especially if the worst of Dumbledore's theories came true and this was a move by Voldemort himself.
In the room on the other side of the Great Hall, there was a scandal because Harry Potter had to participate. The boy denied it, but no one—or almost no one—seemed to believe him. Snape helped to fuel this belief by calling him a troublemaker. Dumbledore didn't say anything about the oath to be able to leave, and from what he saw, Crouch didn't either. Crouch just said that the boy should participate, although he seemed to be fighting something internally. Karkaroff was indignant, almost angry, falsely threatening to withdraw his champion even though he knew he could not do so. That would only hurt the Durmstrang champion. Madame Maxime was offended, but there was no possible argument she could use at that moment to get them to listen to her and accept Harry's version that he could no longer escape the tournament. Dumbledore felt sorry for the boy but believed it was the best way to uncover the bigger picture. Bagman seemed to have found his winning horse, looking at Harry as if he were a fountain of gold. Dumbledore didn't care what he did, as long as he didn't corrupt the boy and get him involved in his gambling problems. Alastor pointed out the obvious. It was impossible for a fourth-year child to perform such magic to cheat the Goblet. On the other hand, any older person who had put the name in would have made Harry's name appear with the others. So, that did not square with a fourth champion having been presented as if a fourth school was competing. That was a finely-tuned job, done to ensure that Potter was chosen, either as a joke, which was the best option, or to die during the tournament—to assassinate him. That seemed to startle the boy, although Dumbledore saw how he nodded with a certain resignation. At that meeting, it was clarified that the binding contract of the Goblet was mandatory and that Harry had to participate no matter what.
Dumbledore watched the other champions. Viktor Krum seemed indifferent; you could tell that he didn't care about two or three. Fleur Delacour was furious, to the point of challenging Harry. Cedric Diggory was suspicious. Dumbledore took the opportunity to enter his mind and see what he thought. He believed that Harry had intentionally entered to get people's attention and be above Hufflepuff; but at the same time, he was convinced that this was not possible, for he had often seen Harry try to blend in and not attract attention. It seemed like Cedric had a jumble of thoughts, that he was confused whether to believe Harry or not. The meeting ended after Bagman summoned them for the first task on November 20th after lunch, in which they would have to face the unknown.