The commotion over at the Gryffindor table would normally have drawn plenty of attention, especially with Harry Potter and Viktor Krum sitting right there. But the presence that held everyone’s focus now was still the Goblet of Fire blazing at the center of the Great Hall.
More precisely, it was the parchnts inside it, each bearing a wizard’s na.
In fact, Fleur Delacour choosing once again to sit at the Slytherin table went largely unnoticed by most people.
That, of course, did not include Pansy, who had watched Fleur sit down with her own eyes.
“You again?!”
“Oh? Is this how Hogwarts—no, how Slytherin treats its guests?”
“That depends on who the wizard is. If they're an enemy, that’s a different story.”
“Enemy? You can’t even enter the Triwizard Tournant. What makes you qualified to be my opponent?”
“Ha! Aren’t you full of yourself, you Beauxbatons girl!”
“I… my na is Fleur Delacour. Rember it!”
It was obvious that compared to their last conversation, Fleur had the upper hand this ti.
Whether she’d prepared beforehand or simply benefited from Hermione not being here was hard to say.
It was worth noting that even when Fleur grew angry at Pansy’s words, the charming way she did it still stirred the hearts of the surrounding wizards. Because of that, Pansy ended up looking like the one picking a fight.
The angry looks thrown her way made that very clear...
Pansy, however, didn’t seem the least bit intimidated. She folded her arms and let out a cold laugh in her mind.
Who knows how this will turn out in the end!!
With that thought, she glanced toward Draco, whose expression had remained calm from the very beginning.
In her heart, only Draco was worthy of becoming a Champion...
...
Just as Ginny realized things were about to go south and stepped in to calm the situation—while Pansy and Fleur were still glaring daggers at each other—Dumbledore entered the hall with the referees, instantly pulling every wizard’s attention toward him.
At that sa mont, the pale blue fire inside the Goblet of Fire suddenly flared higher. Its restless flas seed to signal that the ti was near, stirring the excitent in everyone’s hearts...
“It's starting.”
“You—”
“Quiet.”
“...”
For so reason, the instant Fleur t the man’s cold stare, all her earlier indignation shrank away. The boldness she’d shown just monts ago vanished completely under Draco’s single look.
Instinctively, she swallowed the words she’d been about to say.
Wait—no! Why am I listening to him!?
Once she snapped out of it, Fleur bit her lip and glared back at the infuriating man in front of her, eyes wide.
The flush on her lovely face made it clear she found her own reaction embarrassing.
What annoyed her even more was that Draco wasn’t even looking at her...
“Looks like he noticed.”
Draco narrowed his eyes, studying Dumbledore, whose expression was unreadable behind his spectacles.
It was subtle, but Draco had caught it. Just before Dumbledore sat down, he paused—an unnatural hesitation. And in that sa instant, his gaze settled on the Goblet of Fire, clearly sensing sothing was wrong.
As for what was wrong, Draco and Pansy both knew perfectly well after last night.
“He noticed? Then… could sothing happen?”
“Relax. According to the rules, Dumbledore never said we couldn’t break the age restriction. And as long as you don’t talk and I don’t talk, nothing will happen.”
“But—”
“And besides, Dumbledore might already know. Didn’t you say Alastor Moody appeared last night too?”
After hearing Pansy’s account, Draco knew a simple Disillusionnt Charm could never fool that magical eye. No—against a wizard of that level, the so-called invisibility of a Disillusionnt Charm was practically a joke.
Which was why Draco was certain Alastor Moody had already told Dumbledore everything.
While Draco mulled this over, Dumbledore began to eat on the platform. The calm, slow way he ate only made the young wizards below more anxious.
Compared to the professors up there, the students were already close to bursting with impatience...
...
Today wasn’t just the day to choose the Champion representatives. It was also Halloween—a perfect excuse to indulge in pumpkin-thed treats.
Even though dinner was still so ti away, the Great Hall was already decorated for the holiday, and the tables were filled with special Halloween breakfast dishes prepared by the house-elves.
Among them, the soufflé dusted with pumpkin sugar was a French dessert made especially for the Beauxbatons students...
At last, the golden plates on the tables returned to their usual appearance, and the Great Hall grew suddenly louder—all signs that the al had ended.
Dumbledore rose from his seat.
Tink, tink, tink~
Just as the young wizards were about to squirm out of their seats, Dumbledore—having finished his al at his own slow pace—tapped the rim of his goblet with his knife and fork.
He hadn’t used a single Charm, yet the sound caught everyone’s attention and quieted the hall...
“All right. The Goblet of Fire is about to make its decision. It should be another minute. When the nas of the champions are announced, I want them to step forward and enter the room beside . They’ll receive their initial pre-tournant instructions there!”
Clap! Clap! Clap!
The mont he finished, the young wizards burst into excited applause.
They truly couldn’t wait for the results...
He raised a hand and pressed downward, and the Great Hall instantly fell silent. Dumbledore then drew his wand and swept it through the air.
In an instant, all the candles except those inside the jack-o’-lanterns went out, plunging the hall into a half-lit shadow.
Only now did everyone notice the brilliant blaze inside the Goblet of Fire. It shone brighter than anything else in the room, its blue-white flas spitting sparks that were almost blinding.
But no one looked away. Every eye stayed fixed on it... waiting.
For the selection of the Champion...
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