Marauders - Always - Part One

CXLV: The Fourth Champion

"-- only a BOY Albus --"

"-- always breaking the rules, arrogant like his father, he should be disqualified based purely on that alone --"

"-- I won't stand by and watch him be killed!" they both shouted at the same time, and they both looked at one another in surprise.

Dumbledore's face was benign. "Let us go and speak to the boy ourselves, Minerva... Severus..." he said, by way of answering them, "Let us go and see what he has to say for himself."

"He'll deny putting his name into the Goblet, of course," Snape said.

"But no doubt, Severus, you'll be able to use your old skill to see to it that the boy is not lying when we question him?"

Severus's face burned. "Not on Harry Potter," he said coldly.

"Albus, it doesn't matter who put the boy's name in the Goblet, it matters only that it came out of it and he cannae possibly be expected to compete! He's but only in his fourth year!" McGonagall cut across.

Dumbledore led the way across the Great Hall to the door to the little side room, followed by McGongall and Snape alike as he pushed open the door. He could hear Madame Maxime behind him, and Igor Karkaroff as well, bellowing their complaints as the three of them burst through the door.

Dumbledore moved swiftly across the room, directly up to Harry, who stared up at him with wide, worried eyes... eyes that reminded Albus Dumbledore of Halloween night in 1981, standing on Privet Drive in the wee hours of the morning going into the first of November, with McGonagall at his side, just as she was now. Then, though, the eyes that stared up at him had been in the little round face of a baby, a baby whose mum and dad were gone from the earth forever, who stared at Dumbledore with questions that no baby should ever have to ask... Well, now those eyes were in a teenage boy... asking questions that no boy should have to ask, either.

Will you make things okay?

Dumbledore lay his hand on Harry Potter's shoulder.

"Did you put your name in to the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" he asked, calmly.

"No," Harry said, his voice quivered slightly.

Viktor, Cedric, and Fleur looked at the boy, held firm by Dumbledore's stare, the Hogwarts headmaster's hand steady on the fourth year boy's shoulder.

Fleur looked at Madame Maxime, her eyes wide with worry. Harry seemed like a very, very small boy to her at that moment - and she found herself imagining her little sister, Gabrielle, in his place.

Cedric stared at Harry, remembering what it was like to be a fourth year, and how scared he might've been if he was in that position. He was thinking, too, that, despite what a big name Harry Potter was in the wizarding world, it belonged to an actual boy, a boy who was still growing, who was just a kid...

Viktor set his jaw, knowing too well what it meant to be made - quite against your wishes - to be a champion in the Triwizard Tournament because he, too, had watched his name come up out of the Goblet of Fire that night and he, too, had stood in this room and tried not to cry, just as Harry was doing now.

"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" asked Dumbledore.

"No!" Harry said vehemently. He stared up at Dumbledore with wide, pleading eyes.

"Ah but of course 'e is lying!" cried Madame Maxime.

Severus Snape was shaking his head, lip curling - whether at Harry or at Maxime, it was hard to tell.

"He could not have crossed the Age Line!" said Professor McGonagall defensively, her voice sharp. "I am sure that we are all agreed on that --"

"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line."