And my part?
William was a bit confused, just like the people around him, because logically he absolutely couldn't participate in the Eight-Team Tournament. After all, he'd been involved in all the meetings regarding the tournament from start to finish across five stages, with one of the stages entirely designed by him—
Compared to such a serious accident, the fact that Hogwarts had three champions seemed somewhat... no, it was still off.
So, before Harry, who had just become the focus of attention, could stand up, everyone's focus completely shifted. All the teachers leading the teams from the other seven schools were scrutinizing Dumbledore with unmistakable intent in their eyes—
You're not even pretending anymore, Old Man, letting the referee warm up personally?
Originally, everyone wasn't very supportive of William, who hadn't even graduated yet, acting as a referee. The deputy headmaster of Uagadou even strongly opposed it, believing Dumbledore was being senile, turning the champions' safety into child's play—
But afterwards, William shut everyone's mouths with a magic wand.
At the time, the last three schools hadn't arrived yet, and they questioned William's role as a referee.
Then, that night, all the principals and professors didn't get any sleep. They simply couldn't understand how, despite being outnumbered four to one, the opponent could easily and elegantly defeat them using just a few charms. They even suspected William might be some old monster reborn—
Until lying on the ground, looking up at the gray sky above, Boris Ivanov, the headmaster of Koldovstoretz, remained clueless about what had happened.
What did he just see? A Disarming Spell as thick as a bucket? Just the collision could kill him, right?
Was that boy opposite truly human?
So, they reacted so strongly at this point, letting William take part? Why not just decide it internally, what's the point of hosting the tournament? Just keep the Goblet of Fire at home—
"This, violates the rules."
Everyone looked at the person speaking, it was Barty Crouch, wearing a somewhat awkward wizard robe. The middle-aged man's face looked a bit unpleasant, but no one found anything unusual about it, since the Goblet of Fire's inspection and maintenance was handled by the International Magic Cooperation Department, and clearly there was a problem with the Goblet of Fire—
"But, the regulations clearly state that anyone whose name is spewed out by the Goblet of Fire must participate in the tournament competition."
Ludo Bagman looked at William as if he were looking at a humanoid Golden Galleon, decisively shifting his gaze from Harry and refuting Crouch's words.
"Oh, Bagman, despite being neck-deep in debt, you still remember we have regulations."
Crouch immediately retorted, glaring at the middle-aged fat man who suddenly spoke, "Don't think we don't know your motives, now, shut up."
"..."
Bagman shut up but clearly looked far more displeased, glancing again at the other two "champions" from Hogwarts besides William, a thoughtful gaze in his eyes.
Crouch's expression appeared somewhat gloomy as he stared at Dumbledore, "William Richard does not have the qualifications to compete, the third event of the tournament was fully entrusted to him, and we are prepared for it, changing or cancelling it now would seem too hasty."
"Alright, though even so, perhaps we should let the other champions know about this?"
For some inexplicable reason, Dumbledore still wore a smile.
Maybe it's because Hogwarts has three champions?
...
Harry still hadn't come to his senses, before leaving the Gryffindor Long Table, he turned to his companions beside him, opened his mouth—
"I didn't put my name in— you know I didn't."
"...Just like Senior William couldn't possibly put his name in, maybe the Goblet of Fire has a problem."
Hermione nodded, snapping out of her brief daze, while Ron and Neville exchanged a glance before hesitantly nodding. Harry could tell the two seemed a bit concerned, but he wasn't in the right frame of mind to worry about that now with Professor McGonagall approaching him.
"Follow me."
Professor McGonagall kept a stern face, Harry followed, seemingly finding every step unusually difficult.
The boy felt like he wasn't heading towards a room at the side of the hall, but rather to a place where he'd be executed— the feeling persisted until Cedric walked up to him, giving Harry a pat on the shoulder, "Are you okay? Harry?"
"...Just, somewhat unexpected."
Harry shook his head, then nodded— he didn't really know if he was okay, he just knew his thoughts were a mess right now.
"That note wasn't placed by you?" Cedric continued to ask.
"Of course not!" Harry's breathing became a bit heavy, he felt like everyone seemed to be suspicious...
"Then someone wants to... uh, I can't guess what they're trying to do?"
"To kill Harry."
"!"
The two turned their heads and instinctively looked at William, only to see a serious expression in his eyes, with no hint of joking.
"Perhaps, it's necessary to do so. After all, Voldemort is like a Cantonese twin ponytail; until he reveals his tentacles, no one knows where he is..."
William shook his head. Based on the development of this story, he was convinced that Voldemort's spy was already lurking at Hogwarts. The opponent clearly wanted Harry to participate in the Eight-Team Tournament to interfere with a certain segment—
Clearly—William's eyes swept over the professors walking in front— the range could be narrowed down significantly.
Finally, he looked at the limping figure of Alastor Moody, adhering to the fleeting intuition from last night. Something was definitively off about this man, although it wasn't clear what, given there was no Polyjuice Potion or control via Imperio curse…
Filch opened the side door, and a group of over ten people filed in—
The narrow room was immediately crowded, more than twenty people crammed into the small room that originally only had space for seven or eight champions, leaving no extra room. The champions who had been chatting with each other fell silent simultaneously, turning to the end of the crowd to see the Hogwarts champion—
It was Diggory, from Hufflepuff...
"We want to withdraw!"
Karkaroff spoke loudly with a sullen face, and on hearing these words, Krum's expression instantly darkened. He stared at the headmaster, seemingly not understanding why he was saying this.
"This is blatant cheating, Dumbledore!"
Karkaroff ignored Krum's confusion, even though this student was his favorite, maintaining a cold smile—
"In our impression, your age line is supposed to exclude competitors who are underage! Dumbledore! Otherwise, we would certainly have brought more candidates from our school."
It seemed a consensus had formed along the way that William Richard was not allowed to participate, and naturally, they began discussing the issue of Harry.
William didn't argue back; he certainly didn't intend to take part, instead, he sat on a nearby sofa, quietly watching the crowd argue.
This resembled a game of Werewolf with unknown numbers and identities, and now Moody was basically considered the werewolf. Now it was a matter of seeing if anyone in this group would burst out.
"But Harry didn't participate in creating the tasks; he complies with the rules."
Barty Crouch shook his head, his words differing entirely from when he'd faced William, yet still appearing reasonable.
"Yes, since I'm not participating, then the additional Harry certainly needs to withdraw—"
William raised his hand as if speaking in class. His words were logical and well-founded; almost all the headmasters nodded subconsciously, looking at Dumbledore, awaiting his proposal—William's gaze fixed on Barty Crouch, seemingly intent on discerning any anomaly from his expression.
"Saying this...is reasonable."
Crouch's expression remained unchanged, nodding in agreement with William's words after listening.
"No."
Bagman appeared again, shaking his head, then smiling warmly at the still rather bewildered Harry. "According to the rules, Harry is actually the ninth champion in the tournament— Mr. Richard is the tenth; only for some reasons was he forced to withdraw."
"But a school is only supposed to have one champion, that's also the rule!"
York Francis (Old Cauliflower) shook his head, his eyes wide, the green robe on his chest rising and falling slightly. "Since there's already a precedent for withdrawing, we can naturally break the rule once more. I think we should vote—"
"Or, we could allow other students to re-register."
Karkaroff suddenly spoke, his voice no longer smooth, the smile gone, his expression turning extremely ugly. "You must put the Goblet of Fire back out; we need to keep adding names into it until each school produces two champions—sixteen contestants, which is fair to everyone, Dumbledore."
"But Karkaroff, I'm afraid that's not possible." Bagman declined, "The Goblet of Fire has just been extinguished—it won't reignite until the next tournament—"
"Additionally, we can't find challenges suitable for sixteen contestants."
Barty also shook his head, and this time, the two Ministry of Magic staff members stood together.
"In the next tournament, Durmstrang will definitely not participate!"
Karkaroff raged,"After so many meetings and negotiations, and still such things happen! I feel like leaving right now!"
"Empty threats, Karkaroff!"
A voice roared from near the door, "You cannot leave your champion now; they must participate. They're bound by the magical contract! Moreover, Harry's participation benefits you, doesn't it? Maybe, we should let William participate too—it's the Goblet's choice! He, too, is under a contract!"
Moody emerged from the shadows behind the door, limping toward the fireplace. Each step of his wooden leg hitting the ground made a loud clanging sound, tap, tap.
All eyes turned to him.
So, William squinted, looking at the man who began to "speak from both sides."