Only the last three minutes remained until eight o'clock.
By this ti the Hogwarts students couldn't sit still any longer, all of them crowded around Dumbledore with nervousness and unease written all over their faces.
"Professor, the ti for registration is coming to an end, where is Jon?"
George asked, looking at Dumbledore with bated breath.
Dumbledore's face was as calm as ever like he was not worried or nervous about such a situation.
He said softly.
"Don't worry, he'll be back today."
"But the registration is going to be over now!" Fred exclaid, "Even if Jon cos back; if he doesn't throw his na into the Goblet of Fire, that ans there's no way for him to be picked as a Hogwarts champion!"
"Even if Jon is not available, aren't you all ready for it?" Dumbledore looked at them, "What's the point of throwing your nas into that goblet if you have to rely on Jon?"
His words left the Hogwarts students speechless.
It was also at this ti that a burst of applause rang out throughout the middle of the ballroom.
Fudge, the British Minister of Magic, stood beside the goblet of fire, and Deputy Head of Witching Horizons - Iniesta was standing beside him.
The sound of Fudge clapping his hands silenced all the surrounding chatter, and every wizard in the room fixed their eyes on the two n standing by the goblet of fire.
"Ladies and gentlen, the ti has co, after a long day of waiting, the nas of the four school champions will be chosen in one minute, and now it is ti for us to witness the mont."
The students of each of the wizarding schools were whispering with excitent, except for the vast majority of Hogwarts students led by Dumbledore who turned pale.
It wasn't as if they were resisting taking the position to participate in this competition for their school, but everyone knew very well that the strongest and most resourceful person among them would be Jon, and if there could be any student who could represent their Hogwarts now, it would be Jon alone.
But now that the list of nas might be going to be chosen, Jon still didn't show up at the banquet hall, which made the students who were sure that he would be the champion representing Hogwarts this ti a bit unwilling to accept it.
Their grim countenances were noticed by the other Hogwarts castle students who were always watching, the purebloods in their fancy robes, with their faces perpetually condescending, all pointing at their opponents with sneers and a hearty laugh as if they were watching a circus monkey show.
Voldemort who remained seated in the main seat showed no particular expression on his face, only looking at Dumbledore with a smile after Fudge's words had fallen.
"Do you have any issues? Professor. Dumbledore..."
His greeting, which was more like a concern, caught the attention of everyone in the hall, and had it not been for the aningful trailing off at the end of the address, one might have actually thought the words were asked with genuine concern by that man.
Dumbledore nodded slightly.
"Of course not, this selection went well today, and I'm sure it will end satisfactorily that way later as well."
Voldemort nodded lightly.
"That's good, I thought you were waiting for so student to co and sign up, I can accommodate another ten or twenty minutes in that case."
"It's getting late, everyone wants to see the final results and then get back to their rest don't they?" Dumbledore said calmly, "Then let this selection for today be over quickly."
The conversation between them was sowhat inexplicable, and no one but the students in the Hogwarts wagon, and the few in the know on Voldemort's side, heard what was ant by waiting for a student to co over.
But no matter how many people were puzzled by it, all eyes were focused on the wooden goblet once the fire in it had turned steeply red.
The nas of each school's chosen champions are about to co out!
Crackling sparks burst forth, and then a tongue of fire leapt into the air and from it flew a piece of charred parchnt.
Fudge caught the piece of parchnt, and by this ti the flas in the goblet of fire had turned back to a blue-white colour.
He held up his glasses, looked at the na on the parchnt, and then, in an audible over-voice amplified by an amplifying charm, announced loudly.
"The Champion of Beauxbatons - Emil Lestrange!"
The ballroom erupted with applause, and after hearing the family na, the wizards who had surrounded Voldemort broke into knowing smiles.
The Lestrange family is a French pureblood wizard family that had completely defected to Voldemort.
The most famous mbers of this family are, of course, the brothers Rabastan and Rodolphus, who are essentially French wizards rather than English, except that Rodolphus' wife, Bella, is a mber of the British pureblood wizard family, the Black family.
And not all pureblood families are as thinly populated as the Malfoys, the Lestranges' have so many family mbers that they even have a family tree in their genealogy with every mber's na recorded on it.
The seventh-year Beauxbatons student nad Emil stood up from his place as countless flashing lights flashed at him, and his picture, a champion who would represent Beauxbatons and therefore on Voldemort's side, would appear tomorrow in the major European magical dailies.
Imdiately afterwards, the flas in the goblet of fire once again turned crimson and another piece of charred parchnt flew out and then landed in Iniesta's hands.
"The Champion of Durmstrang - Diane Rosier!"
Again there was a loud round of applause as the tall, female Head of Grade, the one who had first t Jon and the others in Durmstrang Castle earlier, stood up from her position, allowing everyone to see the champion of Durmstrang.
The other students around her gave her a look of envy, especially the boy, Krum, who had joined the Bulgarian national quidditch team, who froze at first at the sound of Diane's na, before reluctantly clapping his hands.
By now, the champions of both schools of witchcraft had been chosen, but at this point, everyone in the ballroom held their breath and fell silent instead.
All of them knew that the next big event would be the selection of the two different Hogwarts champions.
The crimson flas flared back up and the parchnt flew out of it once more and landed in Fudge's hands.
Fudge saw the na on it and a look of surprise crept over his face before he smiled and read out the na on the parchnt.
"The Champion of Hogwarts Castle in Britain - Draco Malfoy!"
A loud and noisy applause that was even louder than the two tis earlier rang out after that na was announced.
Among those students at Hogwarts Castle, a boy with light blonde hair had a bewildered look on his face, but as countless flashing lights lit up his face and every eye was on him, it felt as if he was wrapped in a wave of unspeakable surprise.
Draco's face reddened with excitent as he rose from his position with a proud look on his face to show the lofty status of the noble ancient purebloods he would soon represent.
Voldemort still had that faint smile on his face for the Hogwarts champion under his control.
Beside him, a middle-aged man with the sa light blonde hair turned pale.
The surrounding purebloods continued to offer words of congratulations, but Lucius' face could only muster a grudging smile.
Hesitantly, he finally mustered up his courage and walked over to Voldemort's side, his gaze brimming with speculation and nervousness.
"My Lord. I'm not worried about Draco's well-being, it's certainly an honour for him to be chosen. But, is he not a little too young, I fear he may delay the lord's plans."
"Once chosen by that goblet, you must compete, Lucius." Voldemort's voice was flat, making it impossible to hear the joy or anger in it, "Do I need to repeat such a rule to you a second ti?"
Lucius' hands trembled as he swallowed back all the words he had been about to further explain, backing away with his head bowed and retaking his seat.
And Neville and the others looked at Draco as he stood up and gave them a smug, provocative look that made each of their already frowning faces look even worse.
"It's just being chosen, why would he be so smug?" Ron said with a grimace.
For so reason, at the first sight of Draco's face, he felt a pang of revulsion, as if this boy had been born to be at odds with him.
No one answered his comnt and all the other students stared intently at the goblet of fire that had turned crimson for the last ti.
There is now only one last school champion left to be chosen.
Every Hogwarts student who threw his or her na into the goblet was ready for any one of them to be chosen, they would not hold back and would fight with everything they had to gain victory in this tournant.
The flas rose, and the parchnt fell into Iniesta's hands.
Of all those present, he was the first to know the na of this champion.
His expression was serious, serious with a kind of gravity, and Iniesta did not read that na out first but looked up at Dumbledore.
Dumbledore t his gaze calmly.
"The champion of the British Hogwarts wagon - Jon Green!"
His voice carried throughout every corner of the hall, and only a few rounds of applause rang out around them, most of them just looked at Dumbledore's side with cold eyes, wanting to see who the student called Jon Green would be when he finally stood up.
Neville, however, was silent, a look of disbelief crossed everyone's face, but pretty soon when they ca to their senses, there was a cheer so loud it could have tipped the ceiling of the banquet hall over!
George and Fred both looked at Dumbledore and McGonagall with an "I see you've arranged it all, Professor" look on their faces, and the other students were excitedly asking each other who had secretly thrown Jon's na in at this point.
They were sure that even if the professors had arranged it, it could only have been a student who had thrown Jon's na in on his behalf, as no adult wizard had been near the goblet of fire throughout the day.
McGonagall, on the other hand, instantly clutched the note in her robe pocket upon hearing Jon's na and then looked at Dumbledore with a surprised look on her face.
Dumbledore, however, did not show the sa look of delight as the others, instead, he frowned lightly and shook his head as McGonagall's eyes looked over him.
"I made no such arrangents."
McGonagall was ever so sure that Dumbledore would never lie to her in such a serious affair.
Since he said so, it ant that none of their sides had thrown Jon's na into the Goblet of Fire.
So why had Jon been chosen?
Just as this question rose in McGonagall's mind, Dumbledore's eyes went to Voldemort, who remained seated in the main seat.
Voldemort was still smiling the sa way as if he was hearing the na Jon Green for the first ti.
After the cheering had died down on the Hogwarts students' side, Fudge's face was filled with the displeasure of being delayed as he glanced around behind Dumbledore and said in a loud voice.
"Which one of you is Jon Green? Why don't you co forward?"
The Hogwarts students fell silent as he asked the question.
It was only now that a crucial question occurred to them.
Although Jon had been chosen, what should they do if he is not present?
How could they explain that the chosen champion simply isn't present here as wizards from all over Europe watching?
Dumbledore, who was sitting at the front of the group, stood up and all eyes were on him.
At this point no matter who it was they had noticed the problem.
"Jon is not here at the mont, nor did he participate in the sign-up session today, so why does his na appear within the Goblet of Fire?"
Dumbledore asked as he spoke, and his eyes glanced at Voldemort.
The smile on Voldemort's face narrowed and he spoke flatly.
"How strange that a student who wasn't even here was chosen and as his Headmaster, you actually co to ask that question so that everyone can hear that you are getting older and your mind is starting to get out of shape?"
A loud, ear-splitting roar of laughter rang out from the purebloods that followed him.
Hearing Dumbledore insulted, the Hogwarts students all stood up together in indignation, and at the sa ti, seeing their actions, the purebloods of Hogwarts Castle all stood up as well!
The atmosphere in the ballroom beca tense.
But Voldemort continued to act as carelessly as ever.
"The selection is completely over, there is no way to change the established list, and I'll leave aside for the mont how exactly you broke the rules and signed up in place of a student who wasn't here. What I want to know is, since this student has been selected, where is he? If he never shows up, are we all just going to wait here for him for the rest of our lives?"
He stared into Dumbledore's eyes, his tone suddenly becoming cold and scornful.
"Don't forget, I have given you a week already!"
An impish grin spread across the face of Fudge, who was standing in the middle of the ballroom.
"Since the chosen one didn't show up at all, he should just be excluded from the slot, and there's already a Durmstrang student representing you anyway."
As if his suggestion had been accepted by 'everyone' else, a murmur went up in the ballroom, while Iniesta grimaced.
"Four schools, four champions, that's the rule too! What's the point of having this tournant if you can just switch it up when you say so like you did?"
"You need to get one thing clear, Mr Iniesta," Fudge said innocently. "It's not that we're changing the rules, it's that you've allowed a student who couldn't even co to this selection to put his na, and he's been chosen, there aren't four schools with four champions now, there are only three champions who can step up to the occasion."
Voldemort propped one hand on his face and crossed his legs as he looked at Dumbledore.
"I'm not trying to be difficult, Dumbledore, in this situation, if you make a suggestion that makes sense to everyone, maybe I can accept it?"
Dumbledore's face, which had been filled with suppressed anger in its calmness, suddenly showed a smile at this point.
He said softly.
"No need for to make suggestions, the champion of Hogwarts is already here."
Just as his words fell, a burst of orange-red light lit up in the middle of the ballroom!
Three overlapping figures erged!
Covered in blood, Jon had no ti or energy to worry about where he had arrived and who was around him, he had pressed all his strength into the fang!
The basilisk's fang went deep into Rodolphus' throat, pierced his spine and finally, plunged into the chest of the still-screaming Bella!
In the golden hall, wizards from the four corners of Europe watched as scarlet blood blossod like the petals of a demonic flower.
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