The Great Hall fell deathly silent.
Dumbledore held the scrap of parchment in his hand. Confusion flickered plainly in the blue eyes behind his Half-moon Spectacles as he looked at it again, as though the writing might vanish.
"Harry Potter," he read again, his voice carrying through the silent hall.
At the Gryffindor table, Harry sat frozen. Students all around him turned to stare. Ron's mouth hung open wide enough to swallow a whole chicken leg, while Hermione looked as though someone had cast Petrificus Totalus on her.
"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore called for the third time. His gaze crossed half the hall and settled on the bespectacled boy. "Come up, Harry. Over here."
Harry's legs barely felt like his own. He rose mechanically and walked toward the teachers' table under hundreds of watching eyes.
Those looks held shock, suspicion, and anger—especially from the students of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang.
"That's impossible!" A shrill voice cut through the silence.
Karkaroff rose from the teachers' table, his goatee bobbing with his agitated breaths and fury burning in his eyes. "Dumbledore, you owe us an explanation! Each school can have only one champion. That has been a rule of the Triwizard Tournament for centuries!"
Madame Maxime, the headmistress of Beauxbatons, stood as well. Her towering figure cast a long shadow in the candlelight, her face twisted with anger. "I agree with Headmaster Karkaroff. Two Hogwarts students? This is an insult! Blatant cheating!"
Ludo Bagman got up to intervene.
Just then—
The flames in the Goblet of Fire leaped violently and turned red again. The uproar in the Great Hall stopped as abruptly as if someone had cut it off with scissors.
Everyone stared at the goblet. Blue-white flames churned and rose, and then, with a pop, another scorched scrap of parchment flew out.
Dumbledore