Later that evening

The Great Hall was dressed to impress. Floating jack-o’-lanterns bobbed lazily under the enchanted ceiling, which mirrored a stormy night sky, dark clouds rolling like waves above the candlelit tables.

Garlands of autumn leaves curled around the stone pillars, and the scent of roasted pumpkin and cinnamon hung in the air.

But no one was paying attention to the feast.

All eyes were fixed on the Goblet of Fire.

The ancient goblet sat atop its pedestal, blue flames flickering with a mysterious rhythm, glowing runes pulsing faintly as if judging every soul in the room. Students leaned forward, whispering, fidgeting, waiting.

“The Goblet will now choose the champions,” Dumbledore announced calmly, his voice carrying across the hall.

The flames suddenly flared red.

A scrap of parchment shot into the air like a spark. Dumbledore caught it with ease, glanced at the name, and smiled.

“Viktor Krum.”

The Durmstrang table erupted into cheers. Krum stood, his expression calm and unreadable, and walked to the front with the quiet confidence of someone who had been chosen many times before.

The Goblet flared again.

“Fleur Delacour.”

Gasps and applause followed. Fleur rose gracefully, her silver-blonde hair catching the candlelight as she walked past a crowd of smitten boys and politely clapping girls.

Then came the third name.

“Cedric Diggory.”

The Hufflepuff table exploded with cheers. Cedric looked stunned for a moment, then smiled, nodding to his friends before making his way forward, his natural charm shining through.

And then… the air shifted.

The Goblet flared again—but this time, it wasn’t blue or red.It was deep, angry crimson, the flames twisting violently like a storm.

A final scrap of parchment burst forth.

Dumbledore caught it, his face tightening as he read the name.”Aaric Hawthorne.”

The hall fell silent. Shocked murmurs rippled through the crowd as all eyes turned to Aaric.

He stood slowly, his expression calm and unreadable, and walked forward with steady steps, as if the whispers around him didn’t exist.

Dumbledore placed a firm, supportive hand on his shoulder as Aaric passed, guiding him toward the champions’ antechamber.

Inside the chamber, the three champions were waiting. Fleur, Cedric, and Krum all turned when Aaric entered.

Cedric frowned in confusion, not anger, just bewilderment.”What are you doing here?” he asked.

Fleur and Krum stayed silent, their curiosity clear.

Aaric gave an easygoing shrug. “My name came up.”

Fleur and Cedric looked at him as if he’d just sprouted a second head. Cedric opened his mouth to say more, but the door swung open.

Dumbledore entered, followed by Madame Maxime, Karkaroff, and Ludo Bagman.

Karkaroff wasted no time.”Is this your trick, Dumbledore?” he snapped, his voice sharp. “A way to make sure Hogwarts has two champions?”

Madame Maxime frowned. “Someone might be trying to hurt him,” she reasoned. “The age restriction was there for a reason.”

Karkaroff clicked his tongue in annoyance, while Fleur’s frown deepened in genuine worry.”What should we do?” she asked, clearly believing Maxime’s theory.

Bagman, on the other hand, looked delighted.”Well, rules are rules! The contract is binding, and Aaric must compete!”

Karkaroff’s scowl deepened. “Then I demand my school be allowed two champions as well!”

Maxime ignored him, folding her arms. “We should focus on keeping him safe,” she said firmly. Her friendship with Edwina Hawthorne made her protective of Aaric.

Aaric sighed. “We all know I’ll have to compete,” he said calmly. “I can handle myself. Let’s just move on. Thank you for your concern.”

He smiled at Maxime, whose face softened slightly, though worry still lingered in her eyes.

Dumbledore and Maxime exchanged a heavy look. Both wanted to protect Aaric, but the Goblet’s binding magic left them powerless.

The door opened again as McGonagall and Snape entered.

McGonagall said nothing, but her posture was protective, standing just behind Aaric as if daring anyone to question him.

Snape’s eyes narrowed, his expression one of cold confusion as he studied Aaric silently. Whatever he suspected, he kept it to himself.

“Shall we begin preparations for tournament security?” Dumbledore suggested.

Maxime and McGonagall nodded immediately. Snape inclined his head, following them out.

Karkaroff, ignored and fuming, stormed after them, muttering under his breath.

Once the adults were gone, Cedric gave Aaric a polite nod, stepping back to give him space. Fleur, however, caught Aaric’s hand and pulled him to a quiet corner.

“This tournament… it is dangerous,” she said urgently, her light accent thickening with emotion. “You should not be in it.”

Aaric smirked. “Worry about winning. I won’t hold back—not even for you.”

Fleur pressed a hand to her forehead with a sigh, as though he were giving her a headache.

Before she could respond, a flash of gaudy green caught everyone’s attention.

Rita Skeeter swept into the room like a predator, her photographer scurrying behind her. She marched straight toward Aaric, her quill practically vibrating with anticipation.

“Let’s have a little chat, Aaric Hawthorne,” she said, grabbing his arm.

Aaric tilted his head, unbothered. “Do you never learn?”

Rita stiffened, vividly recalling their last encounter.”I… apologize,” she said tightly, releasing his arm. “Would you please grant me an interview?”

Fleur smirked behind her hand, thoroughly enjoying Rita’s obvious discomfort.

“Let me finish my conversation first,” Aaric said smoothly, glancing back at Fleur.

Rita gave a curt nod, retreating to pester Krum, who glared at her as though she were dirt beneath his boots.

Fleur opened her mouth to protest, but Aaric gently placed a finger to her lips.”I’ll be fine,” he said with a warm smile.

She started to argue, and he interrupted softly, squeezing her hand.”I’ll be fine.”

Fleur muttered something in French that didn’t sound flattering. Aaric just laughed, patting her head before striding over to Rita.

“You have two minutes,” he said flatly.

Rita straightened, eager to begin. “Why did you put your name in the Goblet?” she blurted.

“I didn’t,” Aaric said simply.

She blinked, waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, she quickly shifted tactics.”Are you frightened? Excited? Do you think your parents will be proud?”

“Excited. Confident. Yes.” Aaric checked an imaginary watch. “Time’s up.”

“Wait—” Rita tried to protest.

Aaric turned, cutting her off with a calm, cutting remark.”Don’t embellish my words.”

And with that, he walked away, leaving her sputtering in frustration.

A/n: Power stones and reviews please.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep