Godfather And Godson - Chapter 130

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That evening everyone filed into the Great Hall as tonight was the day that the School Champions were picked by the goblet of fire! As the hall was quickly crowded, chatter filled the air as people made their assumptions of who the tournament Champions would be.

Tonight was Halloween to the mundane folk but to wizards and witches it was Samhain festival marking the end of the harvest season and beginning of winter. It was the night that many rituals could be undertaken, and magic was a peak.

The decorations in the Great Hall showed that as enchanted bats fluttered around the ceiling, while animated Jack-o’-lantern leered from every corner, Crystal balls light up the table spaces, skeletons shuffled near at hand, Gargoyle perched on landing spots peering down below, and ghosts floated about. And the candlelit atmosphere with the night sky shining in as dark clouds rolled in really leant the atmosphere a spooky atmosphere.

Plus with wizards and witches seated around the tables, everyone really threw this out of the ballpark. If I muggle walked in right now he would be doubted if this was really just Halloween decoration or the real deal.

The tournament masters showed up as Ludo Bagman waved to all the students and gave many smiles. Dolores Umbridge on the other hand was here to make any friends as she came in without a word and took her seat.

The Professors came in next as they took their seats finally followed by the schoolmasters. They all looked imperial and regal as they walked in as their school pride was on the line. Each was a powerful wizard and witch in their own right as only the most talented and powerful could take up the post of Headmaster especially of such prestigious schools that have long histories and traditions.

With their arrivals, the Great Hall quieted down as everyone respectfully held their tongues. Once they were all seated with a nod from Dumbledore the food appeared on the golden plates.

The Halloween feast seemed to be a quiet affair instead of the bright cheerful thing it used to be, Harry guessed now this was not a novelty anymore as during this month alone that the other schools have arrived there have been up to if not a bit more a dozen different feasts for many different occasions.

No one seem to fancy the extravagantly prepared food as much as they would have normally. Everyone in the Great Hall was constantly craning their necks to the front and center of the hall where the Goblet of fire laid spewing out multi colored flames with impatient expressions on every face, fidgeting in their, and standing up partially to see whether Dumbledore had finished eating yet. It was clear everyone simply wanted the plates to clear, and to hear who had been selected as champions.

At long last, Dumbledore wiped his mouth with his napkin and smiled at the other schoolmaster who nodded their heads, showing that they were ready to begin.

Right before their eyes, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state; there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall, which died away almost instantly as Dumbledore got to his feet. On either sides of him, the Headmasters and mistresses had a variety of mixed expressions on their faces some looking as tense and expectant as everyone else, a few beaming and winking at various students, and most just looked quite uninterested, almost bored.

“Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision,” Dumbledore uttered to the still hall. “I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions’ names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber” he said as he indicated the door that suddenly appeared behind him.

“There you will be receiving your instructions for the First Task.”

He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness.

The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched and waiting with total silence.

“Any second,” Fred and Gorge whispered, two seats away from Harry.

The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red. Sparks began to fly from it. The next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it — the whole room suddenly seem to freeze as Dumbledore plucked the parchment from the air.

“The champion for Durmstrang,” he read, in a strong, clear voice, “will be Viktor Krum.”

“Bravo, Viktor!” boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. “Knew you had it in you!”

“Thank you, Headmaster,” the Quidditch star nodded his head as he walked down the alley.

The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone’s attention was focused again on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned orange. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames. “The champion for Jordan,” said Dumbledore, “is Ali Abbassid!”

“Well done, Ali,” the Headmaster of Jordan smiled at his student who returned the gesture.

“The champion for Shanghai,” Dumbledore spoke up, “is Tang Zhou!”

Standing up was a boy in black and white robes with long flowing black hair done in a bun on top with a headpiece keeping it in position. He had a serene expression on his face as he was not over taken by all the commotion.

Waking past the Headmaster of Shanghai, the old man nodded his head as his student walked into the room beyond.

“The champion for Oceania,” Dumbledore uttered, “is James Turner!”

Getting up off his seat was a boy wearing a blue leather jacket inlaid with bronze buttons as he wore a pair of working leather gloves. The Headmaster of Oceania Spencer Allen gave him a silent thumbs up as he entered the door.

“The champion for Hogwarts,” Dumbledore called out as he smiled when he read it, “is Cedric Diggory!”

Since Hogwarts numbered half of the occupants in the Hall their cheering was the loudest especially the Hufflepuff student who seem to go wild as they had jumped to their feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric made his way past them.

“Good job my boy,” the old man nodded his head to his student.

“The champion for Koldovstoretz,” Dumbledore voiced in a clear solemn tone, “is Catherine Alexeievna Romanova III!”

Clapping as a white haired girl daintily got up from her seat, everyone couldn’t help be a bit awed by the regal manner she held herself in.

“Excellent like always, your highness,” Boris stooped his head low.

“Was there ever any doubt,” the girl asked as she fanned herself.

“Never,” the man nodded his head.

“The champion for Mahoutokoro,” Dumbledore called out, “is Hinako Miya!”

Jumping up off her seat was a cutesy kind of girl dressed in a short red kimono and with two short black pigtails to either sides, but from the way she clutched her katana in her hands he could tell she wasn’t as defensive as you imagined.

“Well done, Miya,” the Headmistress of Mahoutokoro smiled at her student, “I expect a championship in the bag.”

“Yes, Headmistress,” the girl blushed as she awkwardly bowed with the sword in her hand.

“The champion for Beauxbatons,” Dumbledore proclaimed, “is Fleur Delacour!”

“Magnificent, my dear,” Madame Maxime exclaimed as she kissed the Veela blooded girl on both cheeks. “You make me proud.”

“Thank you, Headmistress,” the girl curtsied.

“The champion for Uagadou,” Dumbledore decalred, “is Jasmine Senna!”

Stepping up was a dark skinned beauty, she had her hair in thick braids with gold bands, full lips and a tall well built curvy body.

Silently nodding to her student as a show of acknowledgment, Jasmine vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again.

Taking a pause to ease his voice, Dumbledore grabbed the parchment that flew out of the green flames and called out. “The champion for Ilvermorny is Sinopa Zuni!”

Giving a nice round of applause as a reddish brown skinned girl got up from her chair and made her way down the alley. She had tribal marking running down her arm with a feathered headpiece on and some sort of bird skull.

The Headmistress of Ilvermorny rested a hand on her student’s shoulder as she gave her a nod which Sinopa returned and then walked inside.

“Finally the champion for Castelobruxo,” Dumbledore called out reaching the last person, “is Sílvia Santos!”

The Headmaster of Castelobruxo stared at his student for a long while as she placed a hand on her h.i.p.s to face him to which he finally uttered, “Good job,” and left it at that.

“Excellent!” Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down. “Well, we now have our champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real way that t wi-….”

But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him.

The fire in the goblet had just turned blue. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment. Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out loud.

“Harry Potter!”

Harry 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 couldn’t have heard correctly. No, this must have been a joke, a really funny one. He was just waiting for someone to come up to him and say they were messing with him. Then they would all have a good laught.

Then if that was the case why wasn’t it ending, why was no one stepping up and smacking him on the back.

There was no applause. A buzzing, as though of angry bees, was starting to fill the Hall; some students were standing up to get a better look at Harry 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 Dolores Umbridge to whisper urgently to Professor Dumbledore, who bent his ear toward her, frowning slightly.

“F.u.c.k me sideways,” Harry muttered under his breath.

Getting up from his seat, he shouted, “You got to be F.U.C.K.I.N.G kidding me!”

“How… No, WHY?” he asked as he held his hand up in the air. This had to be the funniest joke ever played on him, but he wasn’t smiling. Nooo, Harry was really… really angry!

Just one year he would have wished not to be burdened with something new or unexpected, but now here did that just go out the window.

“Calm down, my boy,” Dumbledore spoke up, “just come up here,” he sighed.

“No, no, no,” Harry shook his head, deciding to put a stop to it right now. “I am not playing along to this… this whatever this f.u.c.k.i.n.g is! No siree, I have enough problems on my plate as is, and this won’t be added on top of it.”

“You have no choice my boy,” the old man shook his head.

“Why not,” Harry barked out with a laugh, “you can’t force,” he said as he spread his hands to either side. “So just leave me out of it and go into that door up ahead.”

“The moment your name is called you are bond to participate in the Tournament,” Dumbledore sighed again. “That is why we tell you have to be really sure you want to enter before you cast your name because there is no turning back.”

“Oh-ho-ho,” Harry broke into laughter as he covered his face with his hand. Then dropping it as his irritated face was shown “Every year is something else, first year I had to deal with an EVIL possessed teacher, second year I had to deal with a giant F.U.C.K.I.N.G snake, third year SHITTY soul suckers, and now the topping on the cake… this!”

“I understand my boy, I really do,” the old man said wearily.

“No,” Harry shook his head, “no you don’t. None of you do.”

“Ha,” Umbridge uttered, turning everyone’s attention to her, “If I know you best then you are just doing this to get more attention and fame. I heard all about you, Mr. Potter always getting into trouble.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Snape nodded his head.

“Oh, really,” Harry asked as he looked at the two of them, “then let me reassure you. I swear on my very Magic and Life that I did not cast my name or ha-….”

“DON’T do it, my boy,” Dumbledore shouted as he held out his hand uselessly as he continued.

“Or have anyone do it for me, so mote it be,” Harry finished, silencing the Hall completely. A vow like that is never taken lightly, ever!

“Ahh, would you look at that,” Harry said as he held out his hands to either side, “I am not a squib or dead for that matter!”

“I thank you, my boy,” Dumbledore said as he released a sigh he was holding for however long.

“This is still unacceptable,” Igor Karkaroff shouted.

“Yes, I agree,” Boris Sergey nodded his head.

The other headmasters also gave a varying degree of agreement, even if they were friends were Dumbledore, they still had their school’s pride on the line and they all wanted the win in the bag.

“I promise I will look into this,” Dumbledore reassured everyone, “but for now we will just have to go with it no matter how much we don’t want to.”

“Then we will expect answers,” Ekuseni Khaya said to which they really weren’t left any choice.

“Harry, my boy, come along,” the old man said as he stepped near the door beyond.

Shoulder slumping, Harry looked to his friends who all gave him reassuring nods and then sighed. Well whatever, he thought as he walked down the alley as every student’s eyes were on him, who knows he might just win this thing now that he is in it.