Four Champions

All afternoon, Cedric was surrounded by people in the Hufflepuff common room. Ernie even dug out a crystal ball from Divination, trying to make a prediction.

As one of only two people there who knew the truth, Clara chose to watch Cedric, helpless on the sofa, give him an encouraging look, and head to the library.

From what Professor Dumbledore had said during their last conversation, she most likely wouldn't be drawn into the affair again, but she kept feeling there was something important she hadn't remembered.

She also thought she should still make some preparations, such as trying to find a clue about the spell that brought Voldemort back to life, or getting in some extra practice in the Room of Requirement every week.

At the very least, she couldn't forget what Professor Snape and the others had taught her, and she could prepare a few new moves while she was at it.

To be pessimistic, she was even worried that since she and Cedric had both gone back in time, what if someone on Voldemort's side had done the same? That would be terrible.

So, under the pretext of looking for History of Magic books from the previous century, she obtained a permission slip from Professor Binns to visit the Restricted Section.

Fortunately, although Professor Binns was a little old-fashioned, he was agreeable enough.

She stayed in the Restricted Section until half past five that evening. Tonight was the Halloween feast, and the ceremony to announce the Champions of the Triwizard Tournament.

She knew this day was the beginning of everything.

Harry Potter would become the fourth Champion.

The vaulted ceiling of the Great Hall was particularly spectacular that night. Thousands of lit candles floated beneath the enchanted ceiling against the deep-purple evening sky. Now and then, sparks like shooting stars shot out from the flames and faded beneath the vault.

Hogwarts banners covered the walls, golden and red flames leaping silently across them.

Everyone ate quickly-even Rowle, who was usually the keenest on desserts, hurriedly stuffed two Pumpkin Pasties into his mouth before putting down his fork, his eyes repeatedly flicking toward Dumbledore.

The Goblet of Fire had been moved and now stood on a pedestal in front of the High Table. Blue flames danced at its mouth, illuminating Dumbledore's profile as he stood beside it.

"It's almost time, almost time." Rowle clutched Clara's sleeve, his nails nearly digging into her wrist.

Finally, after the last golden plate had been cleaned with Scourgify, Dumbledore stood up.

The whole Great Hall fell silent in an instant, and even the sound of breathing became clearly audible.

Candlelight danced on his Half-moon Spectacles as he braced both hands on the lectern, his voice reaching every corner of the hall.

"Now then, the Goblet of Fire is about to make its decision. When I call a name, I ask the chosen Champion to come to the top of the hall, pass along the High Table and through this door, and enter the room next door. They will receive their initial instructions there."

Dumbledore waved his wand, and every candle in the Great Hall went out. Only the blue flames of the Goblet of Fire danced in the darkness, casting flickering blue light over everyone's faces.

Everyone held their breath without realizing it. Clara felt Rowle's grip tighten. Her own fingers curled slightly, her nails pressing gently into her palm.

The blue flames in the Goblet of Fire suddenly turned red, scattering sparks. A charred piece of parchment flew out of the flames and fluttered into Dumbledore's hand.

"The Champion for Durmstrang," he announced in a ringing voice, "Viktor Krum!"

Rowle let out a scream and nearly jumped out of his chair. Clara caught her excitement and applauded with a smile.

Thunderous applause erupted throughout the Great Hall. Krum rose from the Slytherin table, strode across the hall, and disappeared through the door beside the High Table.

A second piece of parchment flew out.

"The Champion for Beauxbatons-Fleur Delacour!"

Enthusiastic applause erupted from the Ravenclaw Table, and several Beauxbatons girls hugged one another in excitement.

Fleur stood up, her long silver hair shimmering in the light of the rekindled candles, and walked gracefully toward the High Table.

Then came the third piece. Dumbledore caught the parchment, which was still sparking, and glanced at it. An almost imperceptible smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

He raised his head, his voice carrying across the Great Hall to the ears of everyone at the Hufflepuff table.

"The Champion for Hogwarts-Cedric Diggory!"

The Hufflepuff table erupted. Ernie Macmillan was the first to jump up, slapping the table and cheering loudly, almost overturning it with the force.

The other Hufflepuff students also rose to their feet, their applause, whistles, and cheers deafening.

Clara saw Cedric stand up from the table. A few classmates gave him a push on the back, and he smiled a little sheepishly before striding toward Dumbledore.

The applause and cheers continued for a long time. Only after Cedric disappeared through the door beside the High Table did the Great Hall gradually quiet down.

Dumbledore smiled and waited for everyone to sit down, then prepared to end the ceremony.

Then the Goblet of Fire turned red again. Sparks sprayed out with a crackle.

Every eye in the Great Hall was drawn to it. Amid a chorus of low gasps, a fourth piece of parchment flew out of the flames and drifted slowly into Dumbledore's hand.

The old man's smile vanished. He stared at the parchment for so long that people in the Great Hall began whispering to one another.

Then he read out the name.

"Harry Potter."

A deathly silence filled the Great Hall. Then a buzz of discussion surged up like a tide, washing over every table.

Clara didn't look at Harry—she watched the man with the wooden leg at the High Table. His magical eye was spinning, and there was a faint, almost imperceptible curve at the corner of his mouth.

She took a deep breath and withdrew her gaze, letting it fall on the faint Gabriel petal mark on her left wrist.

It had begun.

Nothing much changed over the next few days. Clara's life was neatly divided into blocks by her timetable-Potions Class, Transfiguration, History of Magic, stargazing at the Astronomy Tower on Wednesday evenings, and practical Herbology in the greenhouse on Friday afternoons.

She attended classes, did her homework, and handed in essays in an orderly routine, no different from any other fifth-year student.

Except that, on top of all that, she had two extra regular engagements: three times a week, she immersed herself in the Restricted Section, turning the yellowed, brittle pages of old books; every weekend, she went to the Seventh Floor to practice defensive spells against moving wooden dummies in the Room of Requirement, stopping only when her arms ached too much to lift.

For some reason, she had actually begun to miss Snape's Nonverbal Spells a little. Being chased and beaten had been infuriating, but it was indeed much more effective than practicing blindly on her own.

Her relationship with Cedric seemed to have become that of fairly ordinary classmates again. It wasn't that they had grown particularly distant; they were simply busy with their own affairs.

He was a Champion in the Triwizard Tournament. Even with his memories of the past, he still had to deal with interviews, wand testing, and the endless scrutiny and discussion of students from the other two schools. In his remaining time, he had to keep persuading Ernie and the others not to disparage Harry.

She, meanwhile, hurried back and forth between the Restricted Section and the Room of Requirement, trying to piece together clues about Voldemort's resurrection spell from those ancient pages.

When they occasionally ran into each other in the common room, they nodded in greeting. If they sat on the same side at meals in the Great Hall, they would also casually chat about what had happened in class that day.

But the secrets they had laid bare in the Hospital Wing had all been put away for the time being, hidden behind the curtain of everyday life.

That afternoon, Clara was carrying a stack of books borrowed from the library, preparing to return to the common room. Halfway around a turn in the staircase, she saw Cedric coming down from above.

He wore a white shirt ironed without a single crease beneath his Hufflepuff robes, and held a piece of parchment in his hand.

"Hey." He spotted her first, folded the parchment and put it in his pocket, then stopped on the stairs.

"Hey." Clara moved to the side, leaving him half a step's worth of space.

She noticed a length of purple ribbon sticking out from the edge of the parchment he had just been reading—the ribbon commonly used to tie letters from Dumbledore's office.

"Good timing. Professor Dumbledore just sent me a message," Cedric said, stopping in front of her. "He wants the two of us to go to his office tonight."

Clara was just about to ask what time when the sound of light footsteps and girls talking came from above the stairs.

Cho Chang and several Ravenclaw classmates were coming around the corner from the corridor. They had probably just finished Potions Class, and each still held a textbook and wand.

Cho walked on the outside, a dark-blue Ravenclaw scarf wrapped twice around her neck, her long black hair stirring slightly in the breeze from the corridor.

She was tilting her head, smiling as she said something to the girl beside her. Then she turned and saw Cedric on the stairs.

"Cedric!" She smiled and greeted him. "Congratulations on becoming a Champion in the Triwizard Tournament."

"Thank you, Cho." Cedric smiled back, his tone warm and natural. "I was just lucky."

Cho smiled and shook her head, clearly not thinking it was just luck. Her gaze moved away from Cedric and swept over Clara beside him, and she gave her a polite nod in greeting.

Clara smiled and nodded back, her fingers brushing lightly over the spines of the books. She said nothing.

Then Cho Chang and her classmates continued downstairs. Their laughter gradually faded in the stairwell, swallowed up by the noise in the corridor on the next floor.

"What time?" Clara shifted the books higher in her arms.

"Eight o'clock. The password is 'Cockroach Clusters.'"

"Okay, see you tonight."

She had only taken two steps when Cedric suddenly called her back.

"Rowle said you've been going to the library a lot lately?"

She turned around and shifted the books higher in her arms. The stack was too tall, and the topmost book, Origins of Medieval Curses, was tilting dangerously to the right. She had to brace her chin against its spine to keep it balanced.

"When did Rowle tell you that?"

"At breakfast today. She said you're more Ravenclaw than the Ravenclaws now, spending every day in the Restricted Section. Even she often can't find you when she comes looking for you for lunch."

Cedric leaned against the stair rail, his arms folded across his chest. There was a slight smile on his lips, but a seriousness in his gray-blue eyes. "Looking for clues?"

"Something like that. I want to study that resurrection spell. Maybe I can be of some help."

Cedric nodded, then waited a little while before speaking again, seemingly with a hint of hesitation. "Clara, are you free this weekend?"

"Yes. Why?"

"I wanted to ask if you'd be willing to help me practice spells. You know, when it comes to Transfiguration and Defense Against Dark Magic, there isn't a student in Hufflepuff who's better than you now."

Clara had heard something about that. Rowle had told her that Cedric had roped Ernie into training, and Ernie had nearly been beaten into the Hospital Wing.

"Sure." Clara raised an eyebrow, keeping her tone as casual as she could. "I'm going to the Room of Requirement this weekend anyway. Practicing alone really isn't much fun. With a living target, at least I can tell whether my spells actually hit the mark."

She paused, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly. "But you'd better be prepared. I recently found a few uncommon defensive spells in the Restricted Section, and I haven't tried them on anyone yet."