Dumbledore smiled as he watched the fourth slip of paper flutter down. He had thought it was some young wizard's prank, so he merely shrugged and smiled indifferently. But the instant the slip truly landed in his palm, he was dumbfounded.
The magic on it was indeed the magic of the Goblet of Fire, and the aura within it was indeed that of the ancient Laisian fire inside the Goblet of Fire.
He frowned, spread open the slip, and sighed helplessly after reading it. "The fourth Champion, Harry Potter!"
The wineglass in Kayson's hand shattered under his grip. "What the hell is going on?"
Harry, whose name had been called and who had become the focus of every gaze in the Great Hall, stood up with a bewildered look on his face. He glanced around, and even his friends were looking at him strangely.
"Harry... come up," Dumbledore said, beckoning to Harry.
Harry soon walked toward Dumbledore in a daze. "...Professor... it wasn't me."
Dumbledore gave a soft hum. "Rest assured, I know it wasn't you. I don't believe you could have bypassed the magical wards I set up—unless one day, the name written on a paper ball thrown by the Weasley twins happens to be yours."
"So, Dumbledore, what exactly is going on?" Madame Maxime demanded sharply.
"Clearly, Mr. Potter and we have been framed by a venomous snake hiding in the shadows," Dumbledore said casually.
"Oh, you make it sound so easy, don't you? Isn't that right, Mr. Karkaroff?"
Karkaroff, who had been dragged into the middle of the battlefield for no reason, stared at Madame Maxime in confusion. He could hardly say that not only did Dumbledore have leverage over him now, but Kayson had nearly blown down his door with a Redstone cannon.
Under these circumstances,