Hogwarts Champion-Harry Potter! (6000 words)

"So what are your thoughts?"

Ron stood up, his head popping out from over the shoulders of his two Twins brothers, his arms draped over their shoulders.

"What are our thoughts?"

Fred patted Ron on the forehead and said with a chuckle, "Don't worry, we've already spoken to Professor McGonagall about it. Although Professor McGonagall doesn't think we can represent Gryffindor in the competition..."

But they still promised us they would report the matter to the Headmaster.

"Yes," George's eyes lit up. "The Hogwarts Champion could very well be us—of course, that's an optimistic view. Who knows if the Goblet of Fire might suddenly go crazy and choose one of us to represent Hogwarts Champion?"

"That Goblet of Fire must be blind," Ginny quipped from the side. "That's why they chose you Twins to put on such a distressed act, clutching your heads and saying in unison, 'This is so heartbreaking, Ginny! '" Seamus added, hands on his hips, "But we still have to thank Headmaster Dumbledore, after all, he was willing to give those of us under seventeen a chance. Although Professor McGonagall rejected me because of my mediocre abilities, I'm still willing to do my best for Gryffindor—."

Before he could finish speaking, the Twins interrupted him.

"Oh, Merlin's Confringo!" Fred exclaimed dramatically. "How can your strength be described as ordinary? I believe Professor McGonagall didn't reject you because you're not strong enough; she's probably afraid you'll blow Durmstrang or Beauxbatons ' warriors to smithereens."

"We at Hogwarts promise that we will never give Seamus preferential treatment," George said, winking at him.

Seamus was furious. He chased after Fred and George, pulling out Dungbomb to attack them.

However, Fred and George were agile enough to not only dodge his Dungbomb but also pull out a bunch of strange gadgets to fight back.

They laughed and joked around for a while, agreed to come and vote together the next day, and then left the Great Hall.

The next morning, Hagrid found Harry in a mysterious manner.

To be precise, they sent someone to find Harry.

Colin Creevey was a big mouth, and he blurted this out in the Great Hall, causing Ron and Hermione, Hagrid's two best friends, to also go and find out what was going on.

Seamus and Neville actually wanted to go too, but considering Hagrid's Rock Cakes, they put the plan aside.

They put down their food, walked through the crowd in the Great Hall, and headed towards Hagrid's Hut.

Hagrid was already waiting for them at the door. Upon their arrival, he gave them a polite welcome and, not forgetting, opened two bottles of whiskey and poured some for the Pegasus he was looking after.

After he finished his work, he led the three little ones into the small house.

Inside the cabin, Hagrid sat on a small stool, looking quite cramped.

"What's wrong with you?" Hermione asked with concern. "Something's not right with you, Hagrid."

"Oh, really?"

The larger, cuter Hagrid obviously couldn't hide anything; he smiled awkwardly and looked up nervously at the three little ones.

Harry noticed that Hagrid's usually messy beard was meticulously groomed today, and even his hair was neatly combed.

It looks like—not just something happened, it definitely happened.

"Anyone with eyes can see that, Hagrid."

Ron reached out and patted Hagrid on the broad shoulder. "If you need any help from us, just say so. We'll definitely help you if we can."

"Yes," Hermione chimed in.

Hagrid raised his head and then lowered it again, his large hands nervously rubbing together.

"It's not a big deal," he said. "You know, lately, well, lately Dumbledore asked me to look after Beauxbatons ' Pegasus. Well, those Pegasus need to be well cared for; they need to drink the finest whiskey."

"So you need us to get you some whiskey?" Ron asked.

"No." Harry immediately grasped the crux of the problem.

Even the most expensive whiskey is never lacking in Hagrid.

There's no other reason than that Hagrid is the richest man in the entire Hogwarts.

Who could be as rich as him? The whole house was made from scraps of all sorts of Magical Creatures from the Forbidden Forest, and you could even see carpets made of Unicorn Hair.

Yes, you read that right, it's a rug woven from Unicorn Hair. Hagrid has several rugs like this.

So there's only one truth: the one who could make Hagrid so worried is none other than Madame Maxime, the Headmaster of Beauxbatons.

"I think Hagrid's in love, isn't he?" he asked with a grin.

Hagrid's face flushed red instantly. He stammered for a long time, moving his hands up, down, left, and right, before finally letting out a sigh.

"You're right, Harry." Hagrid scratched his head. "I have indeed fallen for Madame Maxime, the Headmaster of Beauxbatons —I know you're the best at Hogwarts, not just in magic, but also, well, in love. I know three girls are infatuated with you, even a girl as wonderful as Miss Grindelwald can't help herself, so—I thought I'd come and ask you for advice."

Upon hearing this, everyone present was stunned.

Hermione looked at Harry, her disdain undisguised.

Scumbag!

Even as a friend, Hermione thought Harry was utterly hopeless.

Ron looked at Harry with admiration. He knew about Harry's love-hate relationship with the three girls, but he never realized how amazing this achievement was.

It wasn't until Hagrid brought it up that he realized how difficult this achievement was.

Harry scratched his head. He knew his own situation best; he knew, of course, that he wasn't very good at picking up girls.

But men won't admit it.

However, out of a sense of responsibility to Hagrid, Harry still said, "Actually, I only know a little bit."

"And the key to all this was taught to me by Sirius —if you want to pursue Madame Maxime, I still suggest you consult Sirius."

Then Harry added, "I'll write to him tonight and tell him about you."

How about having him write to you for guidance, or even come to Hogwarts in person to teach you?

"That's wonderful!" Hagrid rubbed his hands together gleefully. "I don't know how to thank you enough— Merlin's socks, I really—"

"We're friends, no need for thanks," Harry said with a smile.

"Oh, right."

Hagrid stood up, walked to the cabinet, opened it, and searched inside for a long time before finally pulling out three small wallets.

"This is Dragonhide wallet," he said, handing the wallet to the three children. As Hermione took the wallet, he lowered his voice and said, "This is Dragonhide wallet with Untraceable Extension Charm —I remember you always wanted one, but there was no way to buy one—I had three made and gave them to you."

"This is too valuable, Hagrid," Hermione said, but her eyes were fixed on the purse.

They showed no intention of moving it at all.

Hagrid, of course, knew that Hermione loved the wallet, so he chuckled and said, "The wallet isn't valuable; it's just a testament to our friendship."

They thanked Hagrid again, stayed with him for a while, and then returned to the Great Hall with Hagrid.

Because later on, the announcement of the warriors for the Triwizard Tournament will take place.

Hermione really loves this little wallet, not only because it's made of high-quality materials, but also because it has the most important feature of Undetectable Extension Charm.

It's important to know that these small items that have been imbued with the Untraceable Extension Charm are no longer allowed to be sold on the market.

In the evening, the students gathered in the Great Hall, ready to hear Dumbledore announce the Last Warrior.

However, Dumbledore indicated that there was no rush to make a selection, and instead announced that dinner would be held first.

With students from other schools joining, the House Elf of Hogwarts also started working overtime.

Prepare food that suits the tastes of the foreign students.

After all, those who know Britain this place understand that while locals may be used to the food, students at France schools like Beauxbatons might not.

As everyone knows, Heaven is home to Britain policemen, France chefs, and Germany workers—while Hell is...

They were Germany police officers, France workers, and Britain chefs.

"It's really delicious today," Ron said, showing off his chicken leg.

"It's just a chicken leg, what's the difference between it and what you ate before?" Hermione gave him a disdainful look.

To everyone's surprise, Ron was unhappy with just that one sentence.

He muttered, "What's the difference? There's a huge difference—not to mention anything else, I feel this chicken leg isn't as salty as it used to be."

"That's just psychological," Hermione, not believing the words of a chicken leg connoisseur.

Ron was about to speak when he heard Professor McGonagall tap her teacup.

"Can you please be quiet for a moment?"

The noise in the Great Hall subsided, and then all the food on the table disappeared.

Dumbledore then stood up, and the Great Hall fell silent once more.

As everyone knows, the main event is about to begin—they are about to announce the warriors who will participate in the Triwizard Tournament!

Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, flanking Dumbledore, looked just as nervous and expectant as everyone else.

Ludo Bagman smiled broadly and winked at the students from various schools, while Mr. Crouch looked rather bored, almost annoyed.

"Well, the Goblet is about to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "I estimate it will take another minute—listen, after the warriors' names are announced, I want them to go to the top of the Great Hall, then down the faculty table, and into that room next door—"

He pointed to the door behind the faculty desk and said again, "And that's where they will receive their initial guidance."

He pulled out his wand and waved it dramatically.

Except for the candles inside the jack-o'-lantern, all the other candles went out, plunging the Great Hall into a state of dim light.

The Goblet of Fire now shone brightly, brighter than anything else in the entire Great Hall, its blue-white flames, streaking with Mars, almost blinding.

"It's coming!" Ron exclaimed excitedly. "Now, the moment to witness history is here!"

The flame in the wine glass suddenly turned red again, and Mars popped and flew out.

Then, a tongue of fire shot into the air, from which flew a piece of charred Parchment— everyone in the Great Hall held their breath.

Dumbledore caught the Parchment and held it far away so that he could read the words on it by the light of the fire.

The flames then returned to their blue-white color.

"The Durmstrang Champion," he said in a clear and forceful tone, "Is Viktor Krum."

At this moment, applause and cheers swept through the entire Great Hall.

Viktor Krum stood up from Slytherin's table, puffed out his chest, and walked toward Dumbledore.

He turned right, walked along the faculty desk, and went through that door into the next room.

"That's great, Viktor!" Karkaroff roared like a booming bell, despite the fact that there was a lot going on in the Great Hall.

Everyone could hear his voice, "I knew you were destined to be a warrior!"

Harry thought to himself, "If I didn't know that Renjing was someone you had already decided on, I would have been fooled by your superb acting skills."

After Viktor left the Great Hall, the commotion gradually subsided.

Now everyone's attention is focused on the wine glass again, and a few seconds later, the flame turns to brick again.

Second, the Parchment, propelled by the flame, emerged from the cup.

"The heroine of Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "Is Phoebe Delacour!"

The girl who looked just like Veela stood up gracefully, tossed her silver hair, and walked lightly between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.

"Oh, look, they're all so disappointed," Hermione said amidst the commotion, nodding to the other Beauxbatons representatives.

That said, the word "disappointment" is far too mild.

The two girls who had not been accepted by the capital were in tears, burying their faces in their arms and crying their hearts out.

When Phoebe Delacour entered the next room, the Great Hall fell silent again, this time with an intense excitement that could almost be tasted.

Now it was the Hogwarts Champion' turn. At this moment, the Goblet of Fire turned brick-colored again, Mars flew, and flames soared high into the air. Dumbledore pulled the third Parchment from the tip of the flames.

"The Hogwarts Champion," he exclaimed, "Is Harry Potter!"

The Great Hall fell silent, then erupted in cheers even louder than the previous two times.

Dumbledore and the three heads of the house clapped at Harry with smiles on their faces, while Snape, somewhat reluctantly, also clapped insincerely.

Karkaroff was the same; he had heard of Harry's reputation, though he didn't know the extent of his magic. But the Voldemort in his prime as an infant was something he found rather impressive. As for Madame Maxime, she was genuinely applauding Harry.

Harry stood up, and the cheers in the Great Hall grew even louder.

"Dude! You're something else!" Ron shouted, clapping his hands.

"Whoa!" Colin was sitting on the stool, taking pictures of Harry non-stop with his camera, looking every bit like a sniper.

"Potter is our king!" the Weasley twins cheered, and Tyrell even pulled out a few Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes fireworks, which instantly lit up the Great Hall.

Professor McGonagall's smile froze on her face as she stared at the two troublemakers with a furious expression.

Dumbledore, as the Headmaster, not only showed no intention of punishing the two rascals, but seemed quite pleased. When facing the Twins' stealth, Dumbledore even secretly gave them a thumbs-up as encouragement.

As someone who has been through many big events, Harry was not intimidated. Instead, he waved to the cheering classmates around him, looking quite dashing.

He glanced at Cassandra and found that she was also looking at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of affection and helplessness.

When their eyes met, Cassandra suddenly looked extremely disgusted.

Arrogant and haughty.

Harry made a mental decision; he planned to punish this arrogant brat severely.

After receiving cheers from his classmates, Harry walked out of the Great Hall and headed in the direction of the two warriors.

As Hagrid passed the Faculty Table, he stood up and patted Harry on the shoulder.

"Well done, Harry!" he said with a good-natured grin.

He walked into a small room filled with portraits of witches, and the fireplace directly opposite the door was burning brightly.

Durmstrang's warrior Viktor Krum and Beauxbatons' warrior Fleur Delacour sat around the fire.

There was no conversation between the two. Viktor leaned against the wall, seemingly deep in thought, much like the famous "The Thinker" sculpture.

Noticing Harry's footsteps as he entered, Phoebe turned her head and tossed her cascading silver hair.

Upon seeing that the child was slightly shorter than average, Phoebe raised an eyebrow.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "Should we go back?"

Clearly, Phoebe was treating Harry as a student who was relaying messages.

"No, Dumbledore told me to wait here." Harry sat between Phoebe and Viktor and said to them, "I am Hogwarts Champion."

Upon hearing this, Viktor looked up, his eyes flashing with surprise.

But his expression quickly returned to its somber state.

Phoebe frowned almost imperceptibly; she couldn't understand why Hogwarts would allow such a...

She looked Harry up and down.

Such a short child, who looks no more than fifteen years old, is sent to his death.

"Are you kidding me?" Phoebe asked.

Harry shrugged and didn't say anything.

Just then, Mr. Bagman arrived at the cabin.

"Lady and gentlemen," Bagman said, looking at Harry with a hint of excitement, "It may seem incredible, but the one representing Hogwarts is this Harry Potter, a fourth-year student—he just turned fourteen this year."

Upon hearing this name, Viktor's expression darkened further.

oh.-·

He had heard of this name before; it was very famous and high-profile.

At such a young age, he defeated the Dark Lord—

But Viktor was unimpressed. He was just a Kàng Qīn who got his name through the sacrifice of his family, and Viktor didn't think a kid like Harry could kill the Dark Lord.

No, let alone kill him, Viktor even doubted whether he could last two moves against the Dark Lord.

Naturally, Viktor immediately concluded that the Goblet of Fire must have gone mad to choose Harry as the champion.

But he was not happy, because it was really ungentlemanly to defeat a child to win the championship of the Triwizard Tournament, and people would not listen if word got out, even if the child was that village boy who had survived the great calamity.

"Is there some mistake?" Viktor frowned and asked, "He's just a fourth-year student. He probably can't even use Disarming Charm properly. Are you suggesting we send him to the Triwizard Tournament? What's the difference between that and sending him to his death?"

Moody didn't hear this, otherwise Moody would have definitely jumped up and given him a taste of his Cruciatus Curse.

Is this what you mean by "not even letting go of Disarming Charm"?

He's unleashed his power! He can even skillfully use Killing Curse—

"I think so too, Mr. Bagman," Phoebe asked in heavily nasal English. "Can such a little village boy become a warrior?"

Little village child?

Harry didn't feel indignant at all.

Anger often stems from a feeling of powerlessness over the status quo.

But Harry just wants to laugh right now.

It's just a few words; it won't hurt you.

"But that's not something we can decide, you two." Bagman's face still wore a polite smile. "Once the champion of the Goblet of Fire is chosen, it cannot be changed unless the champion decides to withdraw and a new champion is selected—so, Potter, what do you think?"

"I think I should give it a try," Harry said with a smile and a low profile.

Just then, the Headmaster of the three schools arrived together.

Madame Maxime walked at the front, followed by Dumbledore and Karkaroff, with Barty Crouch entering last.

Karkaroff's expression was not good; when he looked at Harry, his expression was unpredictable, and no one knew what he was thinking.

Crouch's expression was even more telling; he stared intently at Harry, as if he were Auror scrutinizing a criminal suspect.

"Alright, I need to congratulate you on becoming warriors representing your respective schools in the Triwizard Tournament."

Dumbledore stated bluntly that as the president of the International Confederation of Wizards, he had the right to speak on this matter.

His glint swept over the three warriors, and he said with a chuckle, "Trust the judgment of the Goblet of Fire. It doesn't make baseless accusations by screening out an unqualified warrior. As long as a warrior is recognized by it, he will always have some outstanding qualities."

At this point, Dumbledore said to them again, "So, what you three need to do now is prepare for the first event of the competition next month. But the first challenge you will face is not the first event, but the media interview that will come tomorrow."

"Media interviews?" Phoebe, seizing on Dumbledore's words, asked with a heavy nasal tone, "Are we still going to do media interviews? Why?"

(6000 words delivered, holiday over—time for high-intensity electric acupuncture again)