Harry sat in the corner, feeling slightly dizzy as the waves of feverish noise battered him.
He looked at the faces of the students around him, flushed red with excitement.
An intense sense of alienation enveloped him.
He only wanted to get through this year in peace.
No spotlight, no cheers, and certainly no bloody danger.
Ron clapped him hard on the shoulder, even the freckles on his face seeming to glow.
"Harry! Did you hear that? We can enter too!"
His voice was full of eagerness for battle.
"I'm definitely signing up! Blimey, if I could draw Malfoy in the first round..."
In Ron's eyes, a spectacular scene of him thrashing his sworn enemy was already playing out.
"You have to sign up too! You absolutely have to!"
"Imagine it, Harry! Beating that bastard Malfoy until he wets himself, right in front of everyone!"
He waved his arms, sending spit flying.
"Just thinking about it feels even better than winning the Quidditch Cup!"
Hermione frowned and gave Ron a shove.
"This is dangerous, Ron. And the rules are bound to be very strict."
Although she said that, her eyes also gleamed with the eagerness of a top student itching to try.
"And have you forgotten? This isn't just about dueling, Ron."
Hermione frowned, trying to cool the frenzy.
"This is about learning! We can see Durmstrang's combat spells firsthand, and Beauxbatons' applications of charm magic!"
"Oh, give it a rest, Hermione."
Ron waved an impatient hand.
"I just want to see Malfoy's face swell up like a purple pumpkin. Cedric-that's the Champion's job."
Hermione sighed helplessly and gave up arguing with him.
She turned to Harry, a trace of worry in her eyes.
"Harry, are you all right?"
"You don't look very well."
Harry shook his head and forced