Harry Potter Squib Tales Chapter 98: The Goblet of Fire

Chapter 98: The Goblet of Fire

Harry POV

October 30th came faster than expected, the days and lessons passing by quickly after the headmaster’s announcement, and with it, the other schools of the Tri-Wizard tournament.

The whole of Hogwarts was currently outside, lined up in rows separated by House and Year, all while waiting for their guests to arrive. Beauxbatons and Durmstrang would be there soon, but in Harry’s opinion, they could have just waited inside where it was warm.

After the announcement from Dumbledore on the upcoming tournament, the castle had been abuzz with rumors and speculation on who would be the Hogwarts representative, as well as what the tasks would be.

Personally, Harry felt that something to do with fire would be included. Considering the champions were chosen by an artifact called the ‘Goblet of Fire’ there was no doubt in his mind they’d try to do something like that.

Even now, a month after the fact, people were still talking about the tournament. Which, alright, there wasn’t much else to really discuss this year, thanks to the incredibly dumb decision to cancel Quidditch, but it wasn’t like Harry was all that invested in the event.

He recalled when he’d asked Hermione to look into the matter. Excited at the prospect of doing some research, she’d taken his request a bit too seriously and submitted an essay’s worth of information on past Tri-Wizard tournaments to him just two days after he’d requested information.

“They canceled everything in the past because a Cockatrice petrified everyone?” Harry recalled asking incredulously as he read over some ‘highlights’ from Hermione’s work.

“Yup. Contestants, judges, and audience,” the bushy-haired girl confirmed, and Neville gulped nervously.

“And there’s been at least one death every time they host it,” Ron added. “Not always from the contestants either, mind.”

“Who was barmy enough to think bringing it back was a good idea?” Seamus wondered incredulously.

“The Ministry,” several people replied at the same times, earning chuckles and smirks from the rest of the friend group.

Now, though, Harry couldn’t help but find very little humorous about the whole thing. He was looking forward to seeing Fleur and Victor again, though. That was probably the best part about the whole thing in his opinion.

“Who do you think will be doing Hogwarts’ champion?” Lavender whispered from nearby as they all waited in the cold.

“My money’s on Cedric Diggory,” Dean commented. “Much as I’d like to say a Gryffindor will get the spot, he’s just really good.”

“Yeah, not a lot of outstanding talent amongst our House in our 7th Year,” Parvati claimed. “I mean, Simon Symthe is great at Defense and Charms, but I can’t think of anyone else who stands out.”

“I dunno, Arvin Masterson might do well. The Ravenclaw is at the top of the Dueling Club, isn’t he?” Hermione mused.

“Good point. Though I think he’s more a technical duelist than anything else. He’s good, but very by the books,” Seamus hummed.

“If Wood were still here, he’d have a good shot at it,” Harry said, and Ron bobbed his head in agreement.

The chatter was cut off when somebody shouted, “Look at the sky!”

Heads whipped around to stare at the cloudy heavens, and from it descended a massive stage couch pulled by a team of giant winged horses.

“Whoa!” Seamus uttered in awe. “Would ya look at that!”

“Abaraxans!” Sally-Anne squealed excitedly, something mirrored by others girls in the lineup. Apparently, giant equines were every girl’s dream.

“I wonder if they have to fly low to avoid being hit by airplanes?” Harry wondered aloud, and a couple other Muggleborn nodded along at his question. The Purebloods just looked like they wanted to know what an airplane even was.

Soon, the carriage landed near the assembled Hogwarts party, allowing everyone to see that it was finely appointed with gold and silver decorations marking the coat of arms on the doors: a pair of golden crossed wands projecting a trio of stars each with a big, stylized ‘B’ at the top.

The doors opened a moment later, and from within emerged a very tall and broad-shouldered woman. She looked around, eyeing the Hogwarts students and staff standing outside waiting for her, and held out a hand.

“Welcome, Madam Maxime,” Dumbledore said, stepping up to greet the giant woman. He took her hand and, like a gentleman, helped her down before kissing the back of her hand politely.

“Dumbly-dore,” she said, words colored by her strong French accent. “A pleasure.”

Madam Maxime gestured to her steeds. “I will need somebody to take of ze Abaraxan.”

“I will have our best man handle it,” Dumbledore assured her. “Now, shall we find some warmth inside the castle?”

“Yes,” Maxime hummed, and then clapped her hands.

From within the carriage a line of students in light blue robes emerged. Fifty in total, half boys, half girls. They lined up behind their headmistress and followed her into the castle, while Maxime and Dumbledore chatted.

Harry spotted Fleur but couldn’t do more than smile and nod at her. She caught his eye and winked, before turning her attention back to the castle as she entered it.

As the Veela left, the Boy Who Lived could feel Susan glare into the side of his head, her gaze drilling into his skull, and he swallowed nervously while his fellow Gryffindors ribbed him playfully.

A few minutes later, and Dumbledore was back out in the cold, which he looked completely unbothered by.

‘Likely some warming charms,’ Harry thought, feeling foolish for not having used them himself sooner.

Discreetly waving his wand under his robes, he let out a sigh of relief as the October air no longer tormented him. Seeing Harry no longer shivering, the rest of his friends realized what he’d done and muttered the incantations themselves. Soon, this was mirrored by the other Gryffindors, and then the other Houses caught on.

It was good they decided to do this, as they had to wait a whole ten more minutes before the Durmstrang contingent showed up. They did so in a rather over the top manner, causing a whirlpool to form in the center of the lake before getting an old-fashioned sailing ship to appear from within.

“Was that some sort of water-based teleportation?” Hermione wondered. “Or does the Black Lake connect to the ocean somehow?”

“Well, the lake is freshwater… but then again, giant squids don’t really live outside of the ocean…” Kellah mused. “Could be both?”

As they chatted about the ‘how’, the ship pulled up to the shore and lowered a gangplank. From it, fifty students descended, clad in heavy furs. At the front was a tall, thin man. He had a long goatee that ended in a curl, and though he was smiling at Dumbledore, it did not reach his eyes.

“Karkaroff! Welcome to Hogwarts,” Dumbledore said, his own smile far more genuine as he welcomed the headmaster of Durmstrang with a handshake.

“Dumbledore,” the man replied blandly. “Good to be here.”

‘So, this is the headmaster, huh?’ Harry wondered, eyeing the man closely.

He’d been warned by Ed about the former Death Eater. While it wasn’t likely he’d have joined back up with them, given his cowardice and selling out of his allies to save his own skin, it never hurt to be cautious.

“There he is! Krum!” Ron whispered excitedly as the Durmstrang students walked past them into the castle. He then gasped when the Seeker shot Harry a nod of greeting, which he returned. “Harry! He nodded at you!”

“Did you not… oh, right, you weren’t there for that,” Hermione hummed.

“Right, I forgot,” Harry muttered. Dean, Sally-Anne and Kellah nodded. Only the Muggleborns had met Victor when he’d revealed himself to be Harry’s penpal.

“Eh?” Ron uttered, confused. When he was filled in, he pouted heavily. “Damn, mate! Should have gotten me his autograph!”

“Ah,” Harry said awkwardly. He had, in fact, gotten an autograph for Ron, but was saving it as his Christmas gift.

In fact, he and Victor had exchanged autographs, because the professional Quidditch player had a cousin who was a fan of Harry’s, so it was a fair exchange.

“Finally over,” Seamus muttered as they were finally allowed back inside the castle. Everyone nodded at that.

The two schools had been split up between the four House tables, while their headmasters sat up with the other students, one on either side of Dumbledore.

Harry was a bit disappointed neither Victor nor Fleur had been seated at the Gryffindor table, but he figured they could do that later to catch up. He did greet the Durmstang and Beauxbatons students assigned to their table, though. Politeness never hurt.

Though the former seemed far more stand-offish than the French. Well, admittedly both seemed rather stiff around the rowdy Gryffindors, but the Durmstrang students didn’t seem to like him.

‘Likely because of the whole ‘Dark’ thing,’ Harry thought as he tucked into his meal.

The Nordic and Slavic countries had been Grindelwald’s biggest supporters in World War 2, and had become Voldemort’s biggest foreign allies during his own rise in England. And since Durmstrang was basically just a school full of Slytherins, it made sense there would be some distaste for him as the slayer of Voldemort.

‘I suppose we’ll have to see what tomorrow brings,’ Harry mused.

He couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. After all, Halloween always seemed to have something happen to him during its.

‘I learned the truth from Ed on Halloween, and then there was the troll, and the Death Day party followed by the Basilisk, and can’t forget the prison break last year,’ Harry thought to himself while silently praying that nothing would occur tomorrow.

When dinner was finished, Dumbledore clinked his glass, and everyone went silent as they turned to him.

“Thank you all,” he said with a smile. “And now that everyone is fed and watered, I believe it is time to bring out what we’ve been all been looking forward to.”

Dumbledore turned his smile towards the entrance to the Great Hall, and on que, it opened, revealing Madam Bones and several other people. Not all were Aurors, some were members of the Department of Magical Games and Sports while one was from the ICW division of same.

The wooden chest Madam Bones was carrying was brought up to the head table and presented to Dumbledore, who smiled and summoned a stool. He then removed a golden goblet from the chest, and gently placed it onto the stool. He then placed a glowing white line around the stool.

After that, Madam Bones placed some wards of her own, along with the ICW observer. With three powerful sets of anti-tampering wards in place, nobody would be able to so much as touch it unless they met the proper requirements.

“Only students who are 7th Years and 17 or older may enter their name into the Goblet of Fire,” Dumbledore informed everyone. “There will be additional caveats, such as only the person whose name is written onto the parchment may make a valid submission, and no glamours or shape changing methods will be permitted.”

“The Goblet of Fire will be available for use up until the end of the Halloween Feast tomorrow evening. At which point, it will select our three champions!” Dumbledore declared. He then looked out at everyone before smiling widely. “Now, if anyone wishes to place their name into the Goblet, feel free! Otherwise, I wish you all a pleasant evening!”

As Madam Bones and her aurors left, there was a wave of excited chattering from the students. Even Harry couldn’t help but feel excited. Tomorrow was going to be interesting, one way or another.

111 &&& 111

The 31st of October was heralded by grey clouds and icy drizzles. Not a great start, but the rain thankfully stopped in time for their trek to Herbology class.

Breakfast had a bit of excitement, as the Weasley twins tried to skip over Dumbledore’s age line with an Aging Potion, but they were thrown back and given beards for their trouble. A couple other students tried other tricks.

Some tried to throw their parchments over the ward lines into the Goblet, and someone attempted to submit a piece of parchment that did not have their name on it. All failed, much to everyone’s amusement.

When dinner did roll around, Harry felt his stomach roiling nervously as he entered the Great Hall and sat down at the table.

“You look nervous,” a familiar, musical voice called out, and he brightened up a little as Fleur appeared, sitting down next to him.

“Hey, Fleur,” he said in greeting.

“Hello!” Hermione said, and the other Muggleborn girls greeted her as well. The boys were a bit tongue-tied.

“Bonjour,” she replied, then raised an eyebrow when another person sat down, this time on Harry’s other side.

“Hello, Harry,” Victor said.

“Hi, Victor,” Harry grinned. “Good to see you again.”

He nodded, a tiny smile on his face, before glancing at Fleur. “Hello.”

“How do you know each other?” Fleur wondered.

“He’s my penpal – err, quillpal,” Harry explained. And, to Victor, “I met Fleur and her sister in Paris on vacation one year.”

“Ah! She is the older sister of your other friend,” Victor realized. He offer her his hand politely, and after a moment Fleur accepted.

“Charmed,” she said.

Glad to have his friends all getting along, and when the food appeared, everyone was able to talk in between food. Though Ron was unusually quiet for once, torn between gawking at Fleur due to her Allure and staring at Victor with stars in his eyes.

As soon as the meal was over, everyone’s eyes were on the Goblet of Fire. Dumbledore stood up and held out his hand. In response, the flames within surged, and spat out a slip of parchment.

“The Tri-Wizard Champion for Hogwarts is… Cedric Diggory!” Dumbledore called out, and the Hufflepuff table exploded with cheers.

“Knew it!” Dean laughed.

Cedric stood up and waved to the crowd before being led to a room in the back of the Great Hall. The students didn’t settle own until Dumbledore raised his hand again, and people quieted as a flash of flame heralded a second slip of parchment.

“The Tri-Wizard Champion for Durmstrang is… Victor Krum!”

A lot more people than before let out cheers. A famous Quidditch player winning the spot as representative was very much expected to earn a lot of noise.

Harry applauded loudly for his friend, giving him a grin, and Victor rose stoically from his seart. Then, after he was led out like Cedric, another flash of fire summoned the name of the third and final participant.

“And last but not least, the Tri-Wizard Champion for Beauxbatons is… Fleur Delacour!”

Harry’s applause did not loose out to anyone else who clapped for Fleur, though sadly her reception to the nomination was nowhere near as hearty as Victor or even Cedric. Still, she gave him and the other students at the Gryffindor table a grateful smile for the support before sweeping off to join the others.

For a moment, Harry feared that the Goblet of Fire would spit out another name, or a dragon would break through the ceiling, or something! But no, there was nothing. He was fine.

“And there you have it!” Dumbledore said happily. “Another round of applause for our champions!”

Harry applauded, and couldn’t help but let the relief he felt onto of his face. He was still waiting for something to happen to him before the end of the night, but so far, it seemed like the Halloween Curse had been broken!

111 &&& 111

Crouch Junior

“Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son,” Bartimaeus Crouch Junior intoned with solemn reverence.

He lifted up one of the bones of the corpse he had dug up from the cemetery months ago and placed it into the bubbling cauldron. Just one was needed, and spares would be good, just in case this ritual was required again.

And thus, hidden away from prying eyes in the wilderness of Albania, the Dark Lord’s most loyal servant prepared for his rebirth.

It had taken a while to prepare all of the materials, and without a base in England to operate out of, they’d been forced to take over a Muggle bunker to hide. But after weeks of toil – and many cursed fools, Muggle and Magical alike – Crouch Junior was ready.

As the bone was added to the concoction, it frothed, and he continued. “Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master!”

Without hesitation, Crouch removed his left hand with a flick of his wand, a Severing Curse removing it.

The liquid inside the cauldron roiled violently, and Crouch carefully avoided any more blood tainting the brew. Nearby, one of the Death Eaters who’d heard the call approached, sealing the wound while Crouch finished the ritual.

“Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe!”

This final ingredient was gathered from a lesser sacrifice, sadly. While having Harry Potter’s blood as the binder would be preferred, as it’d remove the protections the Boy Who Lived had against his master, the Dark Lord did not want to risk attempting to steal the boy or his blood while lingering in England.

Thankfully, Voldemort had many enemies, and one from Dumbledore’s little vigilante group had been grabbed off the streets. Mungdungus Fletcher was brought forward, bound and gagged, by a pair of Death Eaters.

Another flick of his wand, and Crouch watched as the light left the man’s eyes and the blood spilled from his split throat into the bubbling cauldron. It was enough, and the liquid shifted one final time.

Seeing this, Crouch lifted up the Homunculus containing his master’s soul and reverently lowered it into the cauldron.

A moment later, the contents caught fire, reducing the metal container to molten slag. And from within, a writhing mass took human form.

The process was incredible to watch, and Crouch watched with awe as his master defeated Death and return to the world, whole once more.

“Robe me,” his master commanded, and Crouch did so, bringing forth a black robe made of Acromantula silk.

“You have done well,” Voldemort praised. “Now… your arm.”

Crouch rolled up his sleeve, revealing his tattoo, and Voldemort placed a finger upon it. A thrill of pain shot through Crouch, but he did not whimper or cry out, and instead grinned as the call was sent out.

It was time to see who was still loyal, and who wasn’t.