Saviour of Magic

The Fourth Champion

"Harry, what are you doing here?" asked Cedric in confusion as the younger boy entered the room. "Do they want us to return to the Great Hall?"

Harry didn't answer. His eyes were burning with fury at being tricked into the tournament and magic was leaking off of him in waves, the aura palpable. How had someone managed to enter his name into something as ancient as the Goblet of Fire? His mind was working at a furious pace, thinking about any spell that could achieve this. Looking out of the window, he wondered who would want him here and why. He mused that the reason why was obvious. Harry did have a lot of enemies and this was an outstanding way to get rid of him. He didn't know what the other two tasks were, but the dragon would surely have a field day with him. What a great assassination attempt! Whoever did this didn't even need to lift their wand!

But did he have to compete?

Yes, he had felt the twitch in his magic after his name had been called, signifying that he was under a very powerful magical contract. Harry paled slightly. The magical contract for the tournament was meant for of age witches and wizards, which meant that should he compete, he would be breaking the terms of the contract. At the same time, should he not compete, he would be again breaking the terms of the contract. Who was the idiot that decided to bring binding magical contracts into this? But one thing was certain – unless he figured out a way, he'd lose his magic and if that happened, it wouldn't be long before he died. He could not let that happen. What to do? He snapped out of his musings when he heard raised voices, but he didn't turn towards them.

"– we were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, his steely smile still in place, though his eyes were colder than ever. "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."

"It's no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff," said Snape softly. His black eyes were alight with malice. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here, his arrogance clearly —"

"Thank you, Severus," said Dumbledore firmly. He turned towards the boy who still had his back turned towards them all. Before anyone could say anything more, the door to the room burst open and a furious looking Sirius Black, the Minister of Magic strode through.

"I think I need to hear an explanation for this," he said calmly, but his face was still filled with fury.

"You can ask that reprobate of that godson of yours," said Snape snidely, sneering at Sirius. "Clearly he thinks the rules don't apply to him as always. Arrogant brat, just like his father -"

"Not one more word, Snape, or you and I will be clashing wands," said Sirius dangerously. "Harry is not responsible for this and I want to know how someone hoodwinked the Goblet of Fire!"

"And where is the evidence to support that claim?" snapped Madam Maxime, throwing her huge hands in the air. "He's obviously lying if he says he didn't put it in himself!"

"I don't lie, Madam Maxime," said Harry sharply, turning around and fixing a cold look at her. "Would you believe me if I told you that it was not me who put my name in the Goblet of Fire?"

"How else would the goblet have chosen you?" asked Madam Maxime, obviously not believing him.

"It is disgraceful," Karkaroff said loftily, his eyes displaying the glee he felt, "that the godson of the British Minister of Magic and the Boy-Who-Lived himself thought it was fine to cheat his way into the tournament. Deplorable behaviour –"

"I don't need a Death Eater to tell my son what is deplorable, Karkaroff," Sirius retorted darkly. "Watch your tongue."

"How dare you?" shouted Karkaroff. "I am –"