She shall protect the boy from a sabotage spree. I know you will believe him tonight, but make sure he knows, too.
"What is it?" Fleur asked, tossing her hair again. Annabeth wondered how much time she spent on it in the morning. "Do zey want us back in ze hall?"
Harry just stood there, gaping.
"Extraordinary!" Bagman burst in through the door, grabbing Harry's arm. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentleman, ladies, may I introduce, incredible as it may seem, the fourth triwizard champion?"
It was silent for a moment. Then Fleur said, "oh, very funny joke, meester bagman."
"Joke?" Bagman said, looking bewildered. No, no, not at all! Harry's name just came out of the goblet of fire!"
Annabeth pushed off the wall, her mind buzzing, thoughts whirling around her head almost too fast to comprehend them. The fourth triwizard champion. Harry was in the triwizard tournament. Why? Did he make it past the age line somehow? Did an older student submit his name for him?
But that didn't make sense. Harry was a Gryffindor, and a famous one at that, but he never looked like he enjoyed the attention. He usually looked downright uncomfortable by it, in fact. So why would he do something to draw even more attention to himself?
This was the start of the sabotage spree. Someone must have entered Harry's name, maybe under a different school, without anyone's knowledge. Hecate had said so long ago that there was a plot to bring Voldemort back. This had to be a part of it somehow. To do what? Get Harry killed?
Voldemort must hate Harry for causing his downfall, and people had died before in this tournament. The whole point of the age line was because students under seventeen didn't know enough magic to have a safe chance.
No, that didn't make sense either. According to Vera and Freddie, Harry had survived dangerous things time and time again. He had fought off an insanely oversized basilisk and won when he was twelve, with no training and a sword that was most likely not the right fit for him. And that and all the threats from the previous years had been orchestrated by Voldemort, so the dark wizard must know that Harry was hard to kill.
So why had Harry been entered?
The door banged open before Annabeth could continue her train of thought. A whole crowd of people came in, Dumbledore, Maxime, Karkaroff, Moody, Crouch, Mcgonagall, and Snape, and most of them looked pissed.
"Madam Maxime!" Fleur exclaimed, rushing over to her headmistress. "They are saying that this little boy is to compete also!"
Madam Maxime stood tall, and though Annabeth knew realistically that the woman wasn't hostile, a part of her was still uncomfortable.
"What is the meaning of this, Dumbbly-dor?" Maxime said seriously.
"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," Kakaroff said. His small smile didn't match the coldness of his eyes. "Two Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions. Or have I not read the rules carefully enough?"
The two foreigners continued hurtling accusations at Dumbledore, taking turns, until Snape intervened.
"It's no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff," he said softly. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here—"
"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore interrupted. Snape obediently went quiet. Dumbledore looked at Harry, peering down at him through his spectacles. "Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" he asked calmly.
"No," Harry said.
"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?"
"No."
"Ah, but of course he is lying!" Maxime exclaimed.
"He could not have crossed the age line," McGonagall said pointedly. "I am sure we are all agreed on that—"
"Dumbly-dorr must have made a mistake with the line," said the giantess, shrugging.
McGonagall didn't like that. "Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" she said. "Really, what nonsense! Harry could not have crossed the line himself, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that he did not persuade an older student to do it for him, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!"
"Mr. Crouch," Karkaroff said silkily, "Mr. Bagman, you are our— er— objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?"
Bagman and Crouch exchanged nervous glances.
"We must follow the rules," Crouch said, "and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."
"Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front," Bagman said excitedly, like this settled everything.
"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," Karkaroff said, his face now clearly showing how he felt. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore."
"But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that," said Bagman. "The goblet of fire's just gone out, it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament—"
"In which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" Karkoroff yelled. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"
"Empty threat, Karkaroff," Moody growled from his corner. "You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"
"Convenient?" scoffed Karkaroff. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody."
But Annabeth did. No matter what happened, Harry would have to compete in the tournament. He couldn't back out.
"Don't you?" Moody said. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Harry's name in that goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out."
"Evidently someone who wished to give Hogwarts two bites at ze apple!" Maxime exclaimed.
"I quite agree, Madame Maxime," Karkoroff said with an exaggerated bow. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the international confederation of wizards—"
"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter," Moody interrupted. "But, funny thing, I don't hear him saying a word..."
"Why should he complain?" Fleur burst out, stamping her foot. "He has the chance to compete, hasn't he? We've all been hoping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! The honor for our schools! A thousand galleons in prize money, this is a chance many would die for!"
"Maybe someone's hoping Potter is going to die for it," Moody said, crossing his arms.
Annabeth looked at Harry. He had paled even more, his head swiveling back and forth from one adult to the next. Like they were going to do anything to help.
The adults continued arguing. The gist of it was that none of them wanted Harry to compete, and only a few had accepted that he had to. Moody mentioned that Karkaroff had experience with things like this, which set Annabeth on edge. Eventually, they all accepted (very grudgingly) that Harry had to compete, and the foreign guests stood sulking as Crouch cleared his throat.
"The first task is designed to test your daring," he said, facing Annabeth, Harry, Fleur, and Viktor. "So we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard, very important.
"The first task will take place on November the twenty fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges. The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed with only their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempt from end of year tests. I think that's all, is it, Albus?"
Dumbledore nodded, and the foreigners all left, talking to each other in their native languages.
"Harry, Annabeth," I suggest you go up to bed," Dumbledore said, turning to them. "I am sure Gryffindor and Slytherin are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise."
Harry glanced at Annabeth, tilting his head. Annabeth nodded, and they left together.
The Great Hall was completely empty. The floating candles were extinguished, and the only light shone in from the high windows. The whole thing had an abandoned look to it, and Annabeth wasn't enjoying all the shadowy corners.
"How are you doing?" Annabeth asked, looking at Harry as they walked down the space between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. She knew it was a stupid question— Harry still looked like he was going to be sick— but she had to ask.
"Dunno," Harry said dully.
Annabeth nodded. "How do you think it happened?" of course she had her own theories, but she wanted to see where Harry's mind was with all this.
"You believe me?" Harry said, surprised, looking at her.
"You expected me not to?"
"I don't know what i expected," Harry said quietly. "Certainly not this."
"Take the time to process it," Annabeth suggested as they left the Great Hall. "write it out. Discuss it with people you trust. That always helps with the shock, believe me."
"How do you know?" Harry asked, stopping by the staircase that led down into the Slytherin dorms.
"I've had my fair share of unexpected circumstances," Annabeth said. "Good night, Harry. Good luck."
"Yeah. You too," Harry said absentmindedly.
Annabeth descended the stairs while Harry kept walking.
"Taipan," she said when she reached the entrance to the Slytherin common room. For a second after the wall slid open, Annabeth thought something had exploded. The room was full of screams and noise and people, and it was so loud it filled the entire hall behind Annabeth.
Then she realized the screams were for her.
Even the few people who had given her a hard time at the beginning of the year were yelling her name, pumping their fists in the air.
She was pulled into the common room by Vera, who was screaming at the top of her lungs like she was meeting her idol.
"YOU DID IT!" she screamed, practically jumping up and down. "YOU DID IT! YOU DID IT!"
Annabeth laughed, accepting Vera and Freddie's hugs and the many pats on the back from her housemates. She was surprised that everyone was so upbeat, given the events of that night, but maybe her victory overshadowed Harry's insult (because the rest of the Slytherins probably thought he cheated his way in) for tonight.
"You're not so bad, Chase," Malfoy yelled over all the noise before being swallowed by the crowd swelling around Annabeth.
"You're going to win, Annabeth!" Freddie yelled, hugging her again. "You're going to show everyone!"
She wasn't in the mood for a party, but at least, for now, she could pretend to be.
***
Over the next few days, the Slytherin's euphoria started to fade, and anger began to replace it. The Ravenclaws had sided with the Gryffindors in all of this, but the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins had started showing a not very subtle array of contempt for Harry and the Gryffindors, the Slytherins especially. A very good example of this was the few minutes before double potions.
They were lined up outside the classroom, waiting for Snape to arrive and let them in. Apparently Malfoy and his friends had been busy doing arts and crafts, because they were all sporting badges on their chests.
Annabeth had gotten distracted on her way to class by a spider in one of the corridors, forcing her to take a detour. When she got to the dungeons, the Slytherins and Gryffindors were at a standoff.
"Chase!" Malfoy said when he noticed her. "You'll like this!"
He thrust out his chest at Annabeth, displaying a badge pinned to his robes that said in a glowing message, Support ANNABETH CHASE— the REAL Hogwarts champion! He pressed it after a few seconds, and the message flashed and changed to, POTTER STINKS. The rest of the Slytherins roared with laughter.
"What the hell is that?" Annabeth said angrily.
"Exactly what it looks like," Malfoy replied smugly. "Thought you'd appreciate it."
"Oh very funny," Hermione said, crossing her arms. "Really witty."
"Want one, Granger?" Malfoy said before Annabeth could say a word. "I've got loads. But don't touch my hand. I've just washed it, you see. Don't want a mudblood sliming it up."
That single word caused an uproar among the Gryffindors and a few Slytherins, Vera included. Annabeth marched over to Malfoy and punched him, right in the neck. She didn't know what that word meant, but if it was enough to warrant Vera's face of horrified anger, it had to be bad. Malfoy clutched his throat, gasping dryly, eyes wide, as some of the Gryffindors started to laugh.
Harry had taken his wand out, and though he looked bewildered at what Annabeth had just done, anger was fast replacing that expression.
Malfoy glared daggers at Annabeth, and she glared right back, until he turned to the more immediate threat (in his eyes) of Harry.
"Go on then, Potter," he wheezed, his voice no more than a whisper, still massaging his throat. "Moody's not here to look after you now. Do it, if you've got the guts."
For a second, nobody moved. Then, with a shout form both boys, they cast their spells. Jets of light shot out from their wands, hit each other mid-air, and ricocheted back at their castors.
One of them hit Goyle, one of Malfoy's cronies. Immediately his face started to swell, and he pressed his hand to his nose, gasping in pain. The other one hit Hermione. Her hands flew to her mouth. She whimpered in fear as Annabeth rushed over to her, followed by Harry and Ron.
Gently, Annabeth took hold of Hermione's hands and pried them away from her face. She heard Ron and Harry gasp behind her.
Hermione's front teeth were growing— inching down her bottom lip, heading for her chin. Hermione let out a terrified cry, squeezing Annabeth's hands.
"And what is all this noise about?"
There was instantly an outburst of noise, everyone talking over each other, until Snape pointed a finger at Malfoy. "Explain."
"Potter attacked me, sir—"
"We attacked each other at the same time!" Harry yelled.
"And he hit Goyle— look—"
"Hospital wing, Goyle," Snape said.
"Malfoy got Hermione!" Ron yelled. "Look!"
Snape barely spared Hermione a glance before saying calmly, "I see no difference."
Hermione sobbed, wrenched free of Annabeth's hands, and took off down the hall.
Immediately Annabeth rounded on Snape. Ron and Harry did too, their combined voices drowning out all words. Annabeth wished the other two would shut up. She desperately wanted Snape to hear every horrible thing she was saying to him.
"Let's see," Snape said quietly. "Fifty points from Gryffindor, twenty five from Slytherin, and a detention each. Now get inside, or it'll be a week's worth of detentions."