Charlie sat there, aware that every head in the Great Hall had turned to look at him.
He was stunned.
He felt numb.
He was surely dreaming.
He must've not heard correctly.
There was very few applause, but a prominent buzz of confusion was starting to fill the Hall; some students were standing up to get a better look at Charlie as he sat, frozen, in his seat.
Up at the top table, Professor McGonagall had got to her feet and swept past Ludo Bagman and Professor Karkaroff to whisper urgently to Professor Dumbledore, who bent his ear toward her, frowning slightly.
Charlie turned to Harry, Ron and Hermione; beyond them, he saw the long Gryffindor table all watching him, openmouthed.
"I didn't put my name in," Charlie said blankly, pleading with his eyes. "You know I didn't."
The three of them stared just as blankly back. Ron looking particularly cross.
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At the top table, Dumbledore had straightened up, nodding to Professor McGonagall.
"Charlie Hawthorne!" he called again, this time louder. "Charlie!" — his voice was distinct, but you could tell by his tone that he was incredibly worried — "Up here, if you please!"
"Go on," Hermione whispered, giving Charlie a slight push; she had instantly forgotten about their argument. "It'll be okay, I promise, just — just go on, Charlie."
Charlie got to his feet, setting off between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. It felt like an immensely long walk; the top table didn't seem to be getting any nearer at all, and he could feel hundreds and hundreds of eyes upon him, as though each were a searchlight. The soft chatter grew louder and louder. After what seemed like an hour, he was right in front of Dumbledore, feeling the stares of all the teachers upon him.
His grandfather wasn't smiling, instead he looked almost on the verge of tears, "Well... through the door, Charles."
"But I —"
Albus nodded, almost as if he knew exactly what his grandson was going to say, "Do as I said, Charlie, please..."
The young boy reluctantly moved off along the teachers' table. Hagrid was seated right at the end. He did not wink at him, or wave, or give any of his usual signs of greeting. He looked completely astonished and stared at Charlie as he passed like everyone else.
Charlie went through the door out of the Great Hall and found himself in a smaller room, lined with paintings of witches and wizards. A bright fire was roaring in the fireplace opposite him, and Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour were grouped around it.
