Y/N's POV
Shocked, I stayed where I was and glanced at Harry. Everyone was staring.
"Y/N L/N, Harry Potter!" Dumbledore called again. "Up here, if you please!"
"Go on," Hermione whispered, giving me a slight push.
I got to my feet and set off up the gap between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. It felt like an immensely long walk, the top table didn't seem to be getting any nearer at all, and I could feel hundreds and hundreds of eyes upon me, as though each were a searchlight. The buzzing grew louder and louder. After what seemed like an hour, I was right in front of Dumbledore, feeling the stares of all the teachers upon me.
"Well, both of you through the door," said Dumbledore. He wasn't smiling.
Me and Harry moved off along the teachers' table. We went through the door out of the Great Hall and found ourselves in a smaller room, lined with paintings of witches and wizards. A handsome fire was roaring in the fireplace opposite him.
Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour were grouped around the fire. They looked strangely impressive, silhouetted against the flames. Krum, hunched-up and brooding, was leaning against the mantelpiece, slightly apart from the other two. Fleur Delacour looked around when we walked in and threw back her sheet of long, silvery hair.
"What is it?" she said. "Do zey want us back in ze Hall?"
She thought we had come to deliver a message. I didn't know how to explain what had just happened. I just stood there, looking at the two other champions.
There was a sound of scurrying feet behind him, and Ludo Bagman entered the room. He took me and Harry by the arm and led us forward.
"Extraordinary!" he muttered. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentleman...lady," he added, approaching the fireside and addressing the other two. "May I introduce - incredible though it may seem - the third and supposedly fourth Triwizard champion?"
Viktor Krum straightened up. His surly face darkened as he surveyed me and Harry. Fleur Delacour, however, tossed her hair, smiling, and said. "Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman."
"Joke?" Bagman repeated, bewildered. "No, no, not at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"
I rolled my eyes, he had forgotten about me, I supposed that was what was expected if I was side by side with the Boy who Lived.
"But evidently zair 'as been a mistake," she said contemptuously to Bagman, "'e cannot compete. 'E is too young."
"Well...it is amazing," said Bagman, rubbing his smooth chin and smiling down at Harry, "but, as you know, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as his name's come out of the goblet...I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage. It's down in the rules, you're obliged, Harry will just have to do the best he-"
The door behind them opened again, and a large group of people came in: Professor Dumbledore, followed closely by Mr Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape.
"Madame Maxime!" said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. "Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!"
"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" Maxine said imperiously.
"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," said Professor Karkaroff. He was wearing a steely smile, and his blue eyes were like chips of ice. "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?"
"C'est impossible." said Madame Maxime, whose enormous hand with its many superb opals was resting upon Fleur's shoulder. "'Ogwarts cannot 'ave two champions. It is most injust."
"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, his steely smile still in place, though his eyes were colder than ever, "otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."
"It's no one's fault but L/N and Potter's, Karkaroff," said Snape softly. His black eyes were alight with malice, "don't go blaming Dumbledore for their determination to break rules. They have been crossing lines ever since they arrived here-"
"Thank you, Severus," said Dumbledore firmly, and Snape went quiet.
Professor Dumbledore was now looking down at me and Harry.
"Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" he asked calmly.
"No," said Harry. He was very aware of everybody watching him closely.
"Did you Y/N?" asked Dumbledore.
"No sir, but Issac did." I replied honestly.
"Did your brother write your name for you?"
"No sir."
Dumbledore then turned back to Harry.
Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" said Professor Dumbledore.
"No," said Harry.
"Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" cried Madame Maxime.
"He could not have crossed the Age Line," said Professor McGonagall sharply, "I am sure we are all agreed on that-"
"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line," said Madame Maxime, shrugging.
"It is possible, of course," said Dumbledore politely.
"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" said Professor McGonagall angrily. "Really, what nonsense! Neither Harry nor Y/N 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...Mr Bagman," said Karkaroff, "you are our objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?"
Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief and looked at Mr Crouch, who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half hidden in shadow. He looked slightly eerie, the half darkness making him look much older, giving him an almost skull-like appearance. When he spoke, however, it was in his usual curt voice.
"We must follow the rules, 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," said Bagman, beaming and turning back to Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, as though the matter was now closed.
"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," said Karkaroff. He had dropped his unctuous tone and his smile now. His face wore a very ugly look indeed, "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!" exploded Karkaroff. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"
"Empty threat, Karkaroff," growled a voice from near the door, "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?"
Moody had just entered the room. He limped toward the fire, and with every right step he took, there was a loud clunk.
"Convenient?" said Karkaroff. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody."
"Don't you?" said Moody quietly. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's name in that goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out."
"Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give 'Ogwarts two bites at ze apple!" said Madame Maxime.
"I quite agree, Madame Maxime," said Karkaroff, bowing to her, "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 and L/N," growled Moody, "but...funny thing...I don't hear them saying a word..."
"Why should 'ey complain?" burst out Fleur Delacour, stamping her foot. "'Ey 'as ze chance to compete, don't 'ey? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money - zis is a chance many would die for!"
"Maybe someone's hoping Potter is going to die for it," said Moody, with the merest trace of a growl.
An extremely tense silence followed these words. It irritated me that yet again, the spotlight was on Harry. I don't know if anyone remembered but I was also a Hogwarts champion, an underage champion who did not survive the killing curse.
The rest of the conversation carried on and the conclusion that was drawn was that me and Harry were both obliged to compete, whether we liked it or not.
I couldn't care less, this was my chance to show people that I was more than just one of Harry Potter's best friends.