Chapter Text
Harry felt like all the air was being ripped out of his lungs. Not again, he thought, not fucking again. The thousands of eyes boring his skin made him shrink in discomfort. He dared to look around the Gryffindor table and bit back a whimper when he saw not only surprise and awe, but also jealousy and anger on many faces. Including Ron's, especially Ron's.
“HARRY POTTER” Dumbledore called again, louder and slightly impatient.
“Go on, Harry,” Hermione urged, pushing him off his seat. “You have to go.”
Harry gave her an alarmed look, but finally stood up on his shaking legs and started his walk to the head table, which he could only describe as walking the death row. His stomach lurched and he felt like puking, but he swallowed the bitter bile and just kept walking. He couldn’t have the luxury of humiliating himself even more – the situation was terrible for itself.
“Well… Through the door, Harry.” said Dumbledore, with a serious face and untwinkling eyes.
Harry moved around the head table, trying his hardest to not look at any professor, visitor or whatever. He was afraid of what he would find. He still could hear the thousand of loud voices in the great hall talking about him before he closed the door.
Cedric Diggory, Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum were grouped next to the fireplace, talking animatedly with each other; until they heard the door close and the uncertain steps of Potter approaching them.
“Hey Harry,” Cedric greeted with a broad smile. He was always very friendly. “Do they want us back in the hall?”
“Uh no… Umm… I- they…” Harry fumbled with the words, not really knowing how to explain the mess he was put into.
“Are you alright, ‘Arry?” he heard Fleur's worried voice and looked at her with wide eyes. The younger boy realized his damp cheeks and quickly dried them with his shaking hands. Before he could muster a response, the door slammed open and an agitated group entered the room. Harry turned to look and was faced with a furious Dumbledore, who squeezed his shoulders with his calloused hands and shook the boy with near violence.
“HARRY,” he yelled. “DID YOU PUT YOUR NAME IN THE GOBLET OF FIRE?”
“NO!” Harry screamed back, trying to get away from the headmaster. “LET ME GO!”
Dumbledore released the boy, who stumbled back and crashed into Krum. He stepped away from the Bulgarian and gave him an apologetic look, but the older boy stayed silent and impassive.
“What iz the meaning of this, Dumble-dore?” Madam Maxine was the first to talk, going to stand beside Fleur. “Why ‘as this little boy chosen? ‘Ogwarts can't ‘ave two champions.”
“If I was informed beforehand that the host school would be favored, I would had pushed strongly for Durmstrang hosting the tournament.” Karkaroff pointed sarcastically where he was standing by Viktor, a hand firmly in his shoulder. “It is ridiculous.”
“Harry was chosen?” Cedric asked in disbelief. “How is that possible? He's 14. And, well, what about me?”
“It seems that Mr. Potter can't stand being away from the spotlight.” Snape said with a sneer, looking coldly to the raven haired teen. “Even if it means backstabbing his colleagues and bring shame to the school.”
Harry, who was listening to the adults talking around him, his eyes fixed on the floor and face red in embarrassment, couldn't take the potions master's cruel words and snapped.
“I DIDN'T PUT MY NAME IN THAT DAMN CUP.” he screamed, rage setting in and magic lashing out. “I DIDN'T ASK FOR THIS. I. DON'T. WANT. TO. COMPETE.”
Then the glass protecting the school's awards and trophies on the shelves exploded, shards going everywhere. Dumbledore was fast in casting a protective shield around the people in the room, the glass hitting the bubble and falling to the ground.
Everyone was silent for a full minute, before the headmaster turned to Harry.
“You will stop this tantrum right this moment, Mr. Potter.” Harry just looked at him dumbly, his heart shattered by everything that was happening and the reactions of the people who were supposed to protect the students. “There's nothing we can do now.”
“But headmaster–”
“He is right, Mr. Potter.” Ludo Bagman spoke for the first time, looking nervous and uncomfortable. “When your name came out of the goblet, a magical contract was created. You can't get out or you will lose your magic.”
Harry looked around the room and found nothing but disappointment, judgment and hostility. Even Diggory looked hesitant, but his eyes carried a bit of sympathy and sadness.
Harry barely heard after that, when Bagman regained his cheerfulness and gave the relevant information to the four champions.
He was doomed.
SSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSS
Things didn't get better after that.
Harry went back to the Gryffindor common room and found a party happening and he was bombarded with so many questions about how he put his name in the Goblet that left him dizzy. He tried to explain that he didn't and that he didn't want to compete, but no one was listening.
He tried to get to his dorm, but Ron found him before he could reach the staircase. The unexpected Hogwarts champion tried to explain his side, but Ron was furious and didn't listen, just as everybody else. When Harry went to breakfast the next morning, the entire school was aware of the very public fight between the best friends.
Harry had to put up with the angry remarks, hurtful jokes and hexes that were coming from everywhere. The Gryffindors were jealous, the Hufflepuffs were furious and the Slytherins were the same unpleasant bunch. There was no escape for him. Not even Hermione was speaking to him; she had said that she believed in him, but was still with Ron.
Harry barely had Neville.
Harry was sitting alone in a most secluded space at the library, trying to finish his Transfiguration assignment, when he heard someone calling him.
“‘Arry?” he was surprised to see Viktor Krum standing before him. “May I speak vit you?”
“Um, of course.” he pointed to the chair beside him and the Bulgarian seeker sat down. “How can I help you?”
“You need to see the Goblins.” he said bluntly. Harry just looked at him and blinked. And then blinked again.
“Ok…? Why?” he asked, feeling stupid. Krum huffed and began to explain.
“The goblet of fire is a Goblins vork. If anyone knows how ze tournament vorks, it is ze Goblins.”
“Do- do you think they will know how I can leave the tournament?” Harry asked hopefully, wringing his hands nervously. Viktor gave a good look at the 14 years old boy who was looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes and his expression softened; a small and rare smile appeared on his face. He wasn't one to just approach someone to help, but he saw how desperate the small student was and knew he was telling the truth. He couldn’t just not do anything to help the poor lad.
“I vink it is your best shot.”
SSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSSHPSS
Viktor was gracious enough to help Harry write a letter to Gringotts, explaining a little about the situation and asking for a way to travel safely to the bank and back.
And then he had to wait.
Two days later, an imposing owl crossed the great hall during breakfast. Harry was sitting alone at the end of the table, picking at his food more than eating, when the huge eagle owl landed in front of him. The teen took the letter attached to the bird's leg and gave it a piece of bacon from his plate, before the owl flew away. He was nervously analyzing the white envelope marked with the Gringotts crest, when he heard Hermione's voice from her place.
“What is this, Harry?” he stared at her for a few moments, incredulous that she could ignore him all this time, but still feel entitled to snoop in his life. He rolled his eyes and gave the tiniest shrug, mumbling something about mail, before standing up and leaving the hall.
“It's probably fan mail. He's the great Harry Potter, isn't he?” he heard Ron's bitter comment and a few snickers from the rest of the table. Harry let out a deep sigh and went his way, settling down in an alcove in a desert corridor. He broke the seal and took out the parchment, noticing it was somewhat heavier than he expected.
Dear Mr. Potter,
We write to inform you that a meeting has been arranged with our Head Goblin to discuss the matters you have brought forward regarding the Triwizard Tournament.
Your presence is expected this Saturday at 9:00 a.m. The golden coin enclosed with this letter serves as a Portkey and will activate precisely at that time, transporting you directly to my office, where we shall be awaiting your arrival.
Should you have any questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to contact us.
Sincerely,
Griphook
Account Manager, House of Potter
Gringotts Wizarding Bank
So it was happening.
He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer that everything would work out.
He would do anything.