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Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Goblet of Fire
No one knew how long Filch had been sitting in the corner of the hall, but he now shuffled forward, carrying an old, jewel-encrusted box. The students chattered excitedly, while Lockhart fixed a sharp, unblinking stare upon the box.
"Mr Scrimgeour and Mr Bagman have already reviewed the instructions for the tasks this year's champions will face," Dumbledore announced as flich placed the box carefully in front of Dumbledore.
"They've made all necessary preparations. The three tasks will span the entire school year, each testing the champions in different ways—magical ability, courage, reasoning, and of course, their capacity to deal with danger."
"The champions will be selected by the Goblet of Fire!"
As soon as Dumbledore spoke, the box sprang open by itself. Inside sat a massive wooden goblet, blue-white flames leaping and dancing within.
If Lockhart kept his eyes glued to that goblet and ensured only three legitimate candidates went in, then even Barty Crouch Jr., with all his cunning, would fail to drag Harry Potter into danger again.
"Applicants must neatly write their name and school on a slip of parchment before placing it into the goblet," Dumbledore continued.
"Those wishing to enter must do so within twenty-four hours. Tomorrow night—Hallowe'en—the Goblet will select the champion most suited to represent their school. It will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, and anyone wishing to enter may approach it then.
"To prevent younger students from trying their luck," Dumbledore added, "I will draw an Age Line around the goblet once it has been set down. Anyone under the age of seventeen will be unable to cross it.
"Finally, I must remind everyone that this competition is not something one joins on a whim. Once your name is placed into the goblet, a binding magical contract is created. If you are chosen, you must compete. You cannot change your mind. So, before you enter your name, consider carefully whether you are truly prepared to see it through."
The Headmaster's gaze swept across the hall.
"Well, I believe that is all for tonight. Good evening."
As the crowd dispersed, Lockhart sank onto a bench near the entrance hall. He trusted no one—not even Dumbledore—to guard the goblet. If anyone tried to tamper with it, he intended to strike first and ask questions later.
A small cluster of students stood some distance away, whispering as they eyed the Goblet of Fire, clearly plotting how they might enter despite being underage.
Lockhart watched students come and go, most leaving quickly after dropping in their parchment. Then Fleur Delacour approached him after submitting her name.
"Professor Lockhart, what are you doing here? Aren't you going to rest?"
Her soft, melodious voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Ah—just observing who's entering," Lockhart replied. "And I'm curious to see exactly how the Age Line functions."
"The professor enjoys adventure and ze study of obscure magic," Fleur said with a faint smile. "You 'ave many interests."
"Actually, I'm far more interested in beautiful girls like you," Lockhart said with a wicked grin.
"Professor, you are teasing!" Fleur laughed lightly. "I 'ave always loved your books. Could you sign one for me?"
"With pleasure."
After signing her book, Fleur bid him goodnight.
Lockhart slipped an assortment of alertness potions into his mouth and kept watch throughout the night. Crude, perhaps—but effective.
By morning, no intruders had appeared. Only Filch, up early to clean, nearly jumped out of his skin when he spotted Lockhart upright and glaring beside the Goblet.
After breakfast, crowds gathered once again in the entrance hall. Pandora Fudge soon appeared, offering Lockhart some breakfast when she heard he had skipped his own. Lockhart rewarded her gesture by awarding Slytherin five points—causing an immediate uproar among nearby students.
Their murmuring turned into loud laughter as Fred and George Weasley stormed down from the staircase, looking triumphant.
"Done!" Fred declared smugly to a group of students before striding toward the Goblet.
The scene, identical to the one in the original story, filled Lockhart with a crushing sense of helplessness. He even suspected someone had Confunded the Goblet, rendering all his vigilance meaningless. A hot surge of anger rose within him—
"Fred! What do you think you're doing? You're not even seventeen!"
Fred froze, finally noticing Lockhart lurking in the shadows.
"If you don't clear off right now, I'll take points from Gryffindor!"
Grumbling under his breath, Fred retreated with George. The watching students immediately burst into whispers.
Over the next few hours, Lockhart continued guarding the goblet. Students registered honestly, without any suspicious signs. That, at least, was reassuring.
The Saviours arrived one afternoon and approached Lockhart as though hoping to chat.
"Harry, go get lunch for us, will you?" Lockhart said.
"Oh—yes, Professor."
Harry hurried off. He was always unusually obedient around Lockhart.
He returned with four lunches, and the group sat together to eat.
"Professor, what are you doing here?" Ron asked through a mouthful of food.
"I have a bad feeling someone intends to use the Triwizard Tournament to target Harry."
"For Harry?" Hermione gasped. "But Harry can't enter the tournament."
"That's exactly why I'm here," Lockhart said, picking up a piece of chicken. "To make sure no one tampers with the Goblet."
"But I'm not seventeen," Harry protested. "Even if someone put my name in, I can't compete."
"That rule was added this year. There are plenty of spells that could manipulate the Goblet."
"Professor, you're protecting Harry so much," Ron chimed in, "but he might not like it. Harry wants to enter—for eternal glory!"
Lockhart fixed Harry with a stern look.
"Harry. Promise me you won't be reckless. You have a far more important destiny."
Harry sighed helplessly.
"All right, Professor. I won't enter."
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