0521 Debate

The side chamber crackled with tension as Dumbledore and Bryan strode in, followed closely by a parade of agitated wizards and witches. Madame Maxime’s imposing figure ducked through the doorway. Karkaroff, his face a mask of barely contained fury, stalked in behind her, his cold eyes darting suspiciously around the room.

The two high-ranking Ministry of Magic officials, Barty Crouch and Ludo Bagman, entered next, with their contrasting demeanors – Crouch’s looked stern and rigid while Bagman was barely suppressing excitement.

Snape glided in silently and Moody was the last to enter, his magical eye humming ceaselessly as it swept across the now-empty Great Hall before he closed the heavy oak door with a resounding thud.

The portraits on the walls, which had been humming with whispered conversations and excited movements just moments ago, fell into an expectant silence as the group entered. Their occupants leaned forward in their frames, eyes wide and ears straining, eager to witness how this bizarre situation would unfold. Each of the portrait occupants silently hoped to be the first to spread the news to their other portrait friends throughout the castle.

Bryan’s eyes immediately sought out Hermione, finding her still enveloped in Professor McGonagall’s embrace. Despite the roaring fire that dominated one wall of the chamber, its flames casting a warm, flickering light across the room, Hermione’s thin shoulders continued to tremble slightly.

Fleur, Krum, and Cedric, the three champions, stood in a loose cluster near the fireplace. Their expressions showed that they had already been informed of the situation by Professor McGonagall.

Bryan could detect the anger simmering beneath Fleur’s carefully controlled expression.

The room was thick with tension, each person lost in their own thoughts and reactions to the unprecedented fourth champion. Yet, amidst this sea of concern and confusion, one face stood out starkly.

Ludo Bagman, his face burning with intrigue, surveyed Hermione with an expression that bordered on excitement. His eyes gleamed with a calculating light that set him apart from the others. Bryan’s gaze flickered to Bagman, instantly recognizing the man’s ulterior motives.

The tense silence was shattered by Fleur’s voice, high and clear, tinged with barely suppressed anger.

“Madame Maxime!” She called out; her French accent becoming more distinct in her agitation. She had expected an explanation from Bryan upon his entry, but he had just given her a cursory glance, which clearly stoked the flames of her indignation.

With a dramatic toss of her silvery hair, Fleur strode towards her headmistress, her movements graceful even in her anger.

“This professor told us that this little girl has somehow been chosen as a champion!”

Professor McGonagall’s lips thinned to a barely visible line, her silence speaking volumes about her disapproval of Fleur’s tone and choice of words. Her arms tightened subtly around Hermione’s shoulders.

Madame Maxime, responding to her student’s call, stretched herself up to her full, impressive height. Her massive form seemed to fill the room, her headdress brushing against the candle-filled chandelier that hung from the ceiling. When she spoke, her voice was laden with indignation and confusion. “What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbledore?”

Madame Maxime’s piercing gaze flickered between Dumbledore and Watson before settling on the former, clearly identifying him as the ultimate authority in this situation. Karkaroff, however, made the opposite choice. With a cold smile that didn’t reach his eyes, he turned to Bryan. Yet, even as he addressed Bryan, Karkaroff carefully avoided direct eye contact, still unnerved by their earlier encounter outside at Great Hall.

“I, too, would like an explanation, Watson,” Karkaroff said, his voice dripping with false politeness as he moved towards a confused-looking Krum. “Since when has Hogwarts been allowed two champions? I must have missed that particular announcement – unless, of course, this is yet another unilateral decision of yours, Watson, just as you decided to Live broadcast the Triwizard Tournament to the public?”

“It’s impossible—” Bagman said with an inappropriately cheerful smile that seemed bizarrely out of place in the tense atmosphere. “There has never been such a tradition, but I must say, in all fairness, that Bryan’s decision to broadcast the tournament live was a stroke of genius, wouldn’t you agree, Barty?”

Barty Crouch, who had headed straight for the fireplace upon entering, stood with his back to the room, warming himself by the flames. The firelight cast deep shadows across his face, obscuring his expression. He responded to Ludo’s question with only a noncommittal grunt.

Madame Maxime, clearly frustrated by the curve the conversation had taken, interjected forcefully. “That is not the issue we are discussing!” Her voice boomed through the chamber, causing several portrait occupants to flinch in their frames. “It is completely unacceptable for Hogwarts to have two champions. This is an insult to the principles of fair competition!” Her massive hand gestured emphatically as she spoke. “Unless, of course, you withdraw this girl from the tournament immediately!”

At these words, Hermione, still curled in Professor McGonagall’s protective embrace, bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. Her eyes, wide and pleading, sought out Professors Dumbledore and Watson.

Bryan caught Hermione’s pleading gaze and understood immediately that she wasn’t asking for help to maintain her champion status, but rather the opposite.

However, Bryan knew that he couldn’t give Hermione the response she desired.

“I’m afraid that’s simply not possible, Madame—” Bryan addressed Madame Maxime, though his words were clearly for everyone in the room.

As he spoke, a subtle change came over him. Those closest to Bryan noticed that the pale purple of his eyes seemed to shift, as if two golden flames had replaced his pupils. Simultaneously, the temperature in the room spiked dramatically, a suffocating heat that the fireplace alone couldn’t possibly account for.

Moody, standing vigilant by the door, and Barty Crouch, still facing the fireplace, both unconsciously shifted their shoulders, as if trying to shrug off the oppressive warmth that had suddenly enveloped them.

Bryan continued, “The magical backlash from attempting to break the Goblet of Fire’s binding contract would enough to strip Miss Hermione Granger of her magical abilities entirely. I don’t believe anyone in this room has the right or authority to impose such a devastating punishment on an innocent student.”

At the mention of losing her magical abilities – essentially being reduced to a Squib – Hermione’s already pale face turned ashen. Her cheeks and lips, still bearing the traces of her earlier tears, now seemed empty of all color. She looked as if she might faint any moment.

Karkaroff, his eyes growing colder with each passing moment, paid no heed to Hermione’s distress. “This is not our fault, Watson!”

He turned deliberately to address Dumbledore instead, his voice dripping with accusation. “As we understood it, Dumbledore, your Age Line was supposed to keep out underage competitors. Had we known otherwise; we would certainly have brought more candidates from our own schools.”

Since entering the room, Dumbledore’s piercing blue gaze hadn’t left Hermione’s eyes. His look was intense, penetrating, as if he were examining her very soul through her tear-filled brown eyes. Karkaroff’s accusation didn’t seem to faze him as he calmly asked, “You can be absolutely certain you did not put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Hermione?”

Hermione, her voice trembling with emotion, responded immediately. “I didn’t, Professor Dumbledore!”

She rarely had the opportunity to interact directly with Dumbledore, and the last time she had been in such close proximity to him was when he had hinted at her using the Time-Turner to go back and capture Peter Pettigrew.

Even now, with her mind spinning from the events of the evening, Hermione didn’t understand why this had happened to her. But as her rationality slowly reasserted itself, she knew that only Professor Dumbledore and Professor Watson could help clear her of suspicion. Her voice was still dense with emotion as she said, “I’ve been with Harry and Ron all day, Professor. I didn’t do it.”

Dumbledore pressed gently, his eyes never leaving hers. “Did you ask an older student to submit your name into the Goblet of Fire for you?”

Hermione froze for a moment, her eyes widening as she realized for the first time that there could have been such a simple way to bypass Professor Dumbledore’s Age Line. The thought had never occurred to her before this moment. But she quickly came to her senses, shaking her head vigorously at everyone in the room.

Karkaroff, watching this exchange with growing impatience, sneered openly. “She’s obviously lying—” he said, looking at Hermione with undisguised contempt.

“If you knew Miss Granger well enough!” Professor McGonagall’s chest swelled with righteous indignation. In that moment, she no longer cared about maintaining the image of Hogwarts or Gryffindor. Her sole focus was on defending her student. Her fierce glare was fixed on Professor Karkaroff as she continued, her voice trembling with controlled fury,

“You would know that Miss Granger is the most exceptional young witch Gryffindor has seen in many years. She is intelligent, hardworking, and modest. Her grades are the best in her year. Every professor at Hogwarts who has taught her can vouch for her character, Professor Watson, and I personally have absolute confidence that Miss Granger is not lying!”

Madame Maxime, who had been listening to this exchange with growing impatience, interjected. “That is entirely irrelevant—” she said, her brow furrowed in frustration. Despite her words, however, she couldn’t help but glance at Hermione with a hint of surprise, clearly impressed by Professor McGonagall’s emotional defense.

“Indeed” Karkaroff, seizing on Madame Maxime’s words, nodded curtly in her direction before turning back to Professor McGonagall. The cold smile he had been maintaining throughout the conversation had vanished, replaced by open hostility.

“Academic achievements prove nothing,” He sneered. “Perhaps she obtained her impressive grades through the same means she used to become a champion – through deception and trickery!”

“Do you truly believe we are all such incompetent fools, Karkaroff?” To Bryan’s surprise, it was Snape who broke the tense silence. Leaning against the wall, his voice dripped with lazy disdain, as he came to Hermione’s defense.

Sensing that the situation was spiraling out of control, Bryan stepped forward once more.

“I think we need to reach a consensus before we can discuss what happens next—” He began, his gaze sweeping across the room. “The Goblet of Fire is an artifact of immense magical power, possessing sophisticated abilities of discernment and judgment. If Miss Granger had simply convinced an older student to submit her name, the Goblet would not have made such a fundamental error as to select four champions instead of three. Unless someone tampered with it.

And I must point out, with all due respect, that at present within Hogwarts, only those of us gathered in this room would possess the magical knowledge and ability to interfere with the Goblet of Fire’s magic.”

Bryan’s gaze swept the room as he delivered the coup de grâce: “Madame Maxime, Professor Karkaroff, surely you must agree that Hermione Granger, a fourth-year student, regardless of her academic achievements, doesn’t have the ability convince any of us to assist her in such a deception?”

A heavy silence fell over the room as Madame Maxime, Karkaroff, and the three legitimate champions observed the Hogwarts staff members. Bryan’s argument was convincing, presenting a logical case that seemed to prove the innocence of the young witch who had been unexpectedly drawn into this situation.

Hermione’s face finally regained some color, the faintest hint of pink returning to her cheeks. Her emotions had been on a rollercoaster ride since Karkaroff’s earlier assessment of her, but now she realized that she had finally been cleared of the shameful suspicion that had been hanging over her.

The room’s occupants seemed to be processing Bryan’s words, each coming to their own conclusions.

It was clear that accusing Severus Snape of helping this “irritating little witch” cheat would be not only inappropriate but potentially dangerous. Moody, with his reputation and magical eye, was clearly not someone to be trifled with. And suggesting that Watson, Dumbledore, or the equally renowned Minerva McGonagall would help a student cheat in such a manner would make one seem not just accusatory, but utterly insane.

Karkaroff’s yellowish eyes darted around his sockets almost as quickly as Moody’s magical eye, his mind clearly racing as he sought a way out of the logical trap Bryan had set.

After a moment of reluctant consideration, he turned to the two high-ranking officials from the British Ministry of Magic. His voice, which had been harsh and cold throughout the confrontation, suddenly shifted to an oily, fawning tone.

“Mr. Crouch, Mr. Bagman,” he began, his eyes narrowing as he addressed the two men. “You two are our… impartial judges. Surely you agree that this situation is extremely inappropriate, don’t you?”

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