Mama half carried him out of the Hall toward the antechamber, passing the confused cluster of officials and Dumbledore who were amid a whispered argument. Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum turned to face them when she slammed open the door.
"You are the third champion?" Fleur questioned in her thick accent. "You are a very small child?"
Viktor, who was a good foot taller than Harry, looked down at the boy in alarm. The two older champions shared a concerned look.
Harry was saved from answering by the rest of the adults entering the room. The loud chaos of voices came through the open door before it was closed firmly by Mad-Eye Moody, who leaned against it as though keeping guard.
"Well," The far too cheery voice of Ludo Bagman said. "We have our three champions!"
Harry tried to hide behind his mama as everyone's eyes turned to him. There was a wide range of expressions on their faces, from disappointment to anger and calm nonconcern.
"Absolutely not," mama cut in. Her voice was tight with fury, low and gravelly that sent gooseflesh up the spines of the adults. Her eyes were narrowed and burning an unnatural sickly hue. Everyone took an instinctual step away. Harry gripped her hand in his, not caring about how childish the action might make him look. Her presence and her anger assured him that she would be able to fix things. Her thumb rubbed against his palm in comfort. "Harry is underage, he is not competing."
"His name has come out of the goblet," Bagman argued, stuttering through his words as he was stared down by the terrifying aura of a pissed-off mama. "He has been chosen to compete - it's a binding contract -"
"He is too young," Professor McGonagall protested. She sandwiched herself on Harry's other side, and the furious glares from both women forced Bagman into silence.
"Exactly," Maxime said. "Why have the rules been bent to allow a Hogwarts student past the age line? This is most unfair, Dumbledore!"
"And what is this nonsense with the Goblet picking him twice? Trying to skew the results so your preferred student would win, hmm?" Karkoff argued. He raised an accusatory finger towards the man. Dumbledore held up his hands in a gesture of peace.
"I have not bent or skewed the results in any way, and am just as confused at these events as you are. Harry, did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?" Dumbledore asked calmly.
"No!" Harry said. Maxime and Karkaroff grumbled in protest.
"Did you ask someone else to put your name in on your behalf?"
"No! I didn't want to join the tournament," he said. "I thought about it, but mama convinced me not to. And that was before I knew about the age line anyway. I don't know how to break that. I am perfectly happy playing for the Quidditch team and not being involved in this part. I don't want to compete!"
"It hardly matters," Fudge interrupted loudly. He did not look particularly upset by the situation and he clapped his hands together as though that was the end of the argument. "The rules are the rules. He has been picked as the Hogwarts champion. He will have to compete." The other two officials, Bagman and Crouch voiced their agreement.
"His name came out twice," mama yelled. "That is clear evidence of tampering. I don't give a fuck about this tournament, he will not be competing."
"Excuse me, madame. Who are you to say -"
"I am his mother," she snapped at Crouch. "And this is Harry Potter we are talking about. He has had more attempts against his life than all of you combined. Someone has put his name in this stupid cup in hopes that he dies in the tournament, and I will not stand by and let that happen."
The room was warmly lit, the embers of the fireplace cast a happy glow across the room. However, in the fury of her emotion, the temperature dropped at least twenty degrees, and Harry prayed the others did not notice the otherworldly ravens flying out of the shadows which stretched far beyond their proportions. Roosting on the rafters, their beady green eyes flickered with the fiery blaze of fiendfyre and unspoken promise.
The tension in the room was thick, and Ludo Bagman began to chuckle nervously. Crouch did not react to her words nor her loss of control, although the man looked so ill that Harry had to wonder if he was fully aware of what was happening. Surely the others were not about to let a senile old man dictate his fate? He tightened his grip on his mama's hand, trying to assure her that everything was going to be just fine, but then Moody began to laugh from his spot at the door. Harry feared for the man's life as mama turned her heated gaze in his direction.
"What is so funny?" She demanded.
"Nothing! I agree with you! If Potter put his name in the Goblet, why did it come out twice? Someone was desperate to make sure he got picked. The Goblet is an extremely powerful artifact. A fourteen-year-old would not nearly be powerful enough to trick it into spitting out his name twice. Someone else put his name in."
"But who would want to do that?" Maxime said.
"Who indeed, who indeed," Moody cackled. "Any ideas, boy?"
"Well, I dunno. If I had to guess, it was probably Voldemort." Everyone flinched at the name, and Fudge sputtered in anger.
"Even if someone put Mr. Potter's name in," Fudge said loudly before they could discuss that topic. "It does - not - matter. Again. The rules dictate that he must compete. This is a great honor, Mr. Potter, I'm sure you will come to realize that."
"Show me these rules!" Mama ordered.
"Madame," Fudge puffed out his chest importantly and thrust a finger at her. "The Triwizard Tournament has been around for hundreds of years. You won't find some loophole to free Potter from the consequences of his actions."
"That!" Mama snapped, "will be up to our solicitor to decide. Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, has been rather successful at suing the Ministry. I'm certain he'll be able to recommend someone for us." Mama towered over the shorter man, and Harry wondered for a moment what the consequences would be if she strangled the Minister of Magic to death in front of so many witnesses. Fudge, realizing what she was contemplating, shut up. His face turned red, then purple and he took a step back.
Crouch said in a calm voice. "The Goblet will not accept any other champions. If he backs out, he will lose his magic."
Mama nearly growled in her anger, her wand appearing in her hands instantly and Harry tugged her away from the Ministry officials.
Dumbledore stepped between them.
"No matter the circumstances, it appears that at this time, Mr. Potter will have to compete." He said in a wise tone. Harry felt mama's nails dig into his skin. "My concern remains the nature of Mr. Potter's name coming from the Goblet twice. There are no rules for such an occasion. Does Mr. Potter technically qualify as two champions?"
Crouch considered this for a tense moment.
"This second slip, did it list a school?"
"No, simply Mr. Potter's name." Dumbledore pulled the four contestant's papers from his robe and the group leaned forward to examine them.
"Neither of those is my handwriting," Harry complained, looking at the fancy cursive on the Hogwarts slip and a shaky, looping script on the other.
"He is a singular contestant," Crouch announced. "The second slip is incomplete. If he was listed under another school, then perhaps but -"
"If you're making up the rules now, then I fail to see how you can't keep him from the entire tournament," mama argued. "There is obvious evidence of foul play here."
"Madame, no matter if Mr. Potter put his name in or not, no matter if this handwriting is his or not, no matter if this is foul play or not, the boy has been entered. The Goblet does not care if he entered his name himself or is unwilling to join. Unless his name is not Harry Potter, he has been entered into the contract regardless of his or your opinion. If he forfeits now, he will lose his magic."
There was a moment of somber contemplation. Harry looked over at his two competitors to see that they were sizing him up as well. He then turned his gaze to the uncaring faces of the officiants, to Bagman who looked excited about the whole thing, to Dumbledore who just looked resigned. To mama, who was usually terrified of the Ministry, always droning on about safety and keeping their heads down - fully prepared to do unspeakable things to Fudge and his corpse if the idiot dared speak one more word. Her concern and anger so strong that everyone was shivering as though they'd been caught in a blizzard.
All he'd wanted was a normal year. He kept trying to reach that goal, and it kept slipping between his fingers. Grim determination filled him.
"You'll just have to compete," McGonagall assured him, her voice soft with worry. "That means you don't have to play to win. Just do what you need to get through safely."
"That's kind of you to say, Professor. But while I want it to be clear that I did not ask for this, and I didn't enter my name - I am Hogwarts' champion now and I will be competing to win." He shot them all a manic grin. A grin of promised death and darkness. Mama sighed. "Don't worry," he told her with a confident tone before turning to the group. "I didn't want to join because mama and Sirius said Voldemort would probably try to kill me again this year. Which is obviously what has happened. That was their concern, not that I couldn't handle myself in a measly tournament. I think it'll be easy!" If Voldemort wanted to fight, he'd give the stupid bitch a fight. He'd show all of them!
The adults sent him incredulous looks.
"Okay, well. Good. Glad that's settled!" Bagman said. "Let me explain to you three the rules for the tournament -"
Harry barely listened to the rules and information about the upcoming task - a surprise, how exciting - overwhelmed with adrenaline as the young man was. Finally, mama dragged him from the room before anyone could ask any further questions of him. They headed in the direction of her office, the only sound from the empty castle was the sharp clack of her shoes as mama paced down the halls.
He was deposited in a chair in her office. She tapped her wand against the kettle and shoved a handful of floo in the fireplace. Sirius popped into the office in his pajamas.
....
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