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The next day.
A strange atmosphere permeated the whole of Hogwarts.
It wasn't magic; it was anxiety.
From the entrance hall to the towers, from the dungeons to the lawns, the students of the six schools—especially the seniors who had already put their names into the goblet of fire—were all in a highly similar state of distraction:
Sunken eyes, absent-minded, walking along and then unconsciously veering a few steps toward the Great Hall before forcing themselves back.
The list of champions for the Triwizard Tournament would be revealed tonight at 7:30 PM.
And now, it was 7:30 AM.
Meaning there were still twelve whole hours left.
"I've never felt a day last so long," Edgar slumped on the sofa in the Hufflepuff Common Room. "I can usually play wizard's chess all morning, but today I can't even be bothered to move a Queen."
William, for once, wasn't reading. He sat opposite Edgar, staring blankly out the window. Ollie was silent as usual.
"Where's Lynn?" Edgar asked suddenly.
"The Kitchen," William replied without looking back. "He said he was going to teach the house-elves some new tricks."
Edgar was silent for a moment, then sighed sincerely. "...Sometimes I really admire him."
...
Time crawled through the morning, noon, and afternoon at an agonizingly slow pace.
The sun seemed to have been hit with a Slowness Charm, taking three breaths to move an inch. The waters of the Black Lake were too lazy to move, and the birds in the Forbidden Forest chirped listlessly.
Even Peeves gave up chasing students and sat on a corridor windowsill sighing... No, that's impossible; he was still chasing them.
4:30 PM.
Figures began to appear in the Great Hall one after another. At first, it was just in twos and threes, then in groups. No one organized it, and no one announced it, but as if by agreement, everyone began to gather early in the Great Hall.
Beauxbatons students sat on one side, Durmstrang students stood on the other, Ilvermorny and Castelobruxo students mingled and talked in low voices, while Uagadou students huddled in a circle, looking nervous.
The Hogwarts students were the most restless, darting back and forth between the four long tables.
"Did you hear? Krum spent the whole afternoon practicing Spells."
"I heard from the Ravenclaws that Roger Davies is determined to win."
"What about Cedric? Cedric will definitely be chosen, right?"
"Shh—keep it down, he's right over there."
6:00 PM.
The Great Hall doors officially swung open.
Almost instantly, the crowd surged in like a tide.
The Halloween decorations were already in place. Hundreds of live bats circled the dome, the ceiling reflected the night sky and a reddish full moon, and pumpkin lanterns of all sizes were carved with various expressions.
Ordinarily, this atmosphere would be perfect for a lively Halloween feast.
But today, no one was in the mood to eat.
Students sat in small groups. The long tables were laden with all kinds of delicacies, yet most people just mechanically cut a few times, forked a piece, stuffed it into their mouths, and swallowed, their eyes fixed on the high table. Why hadn't Dumbledore arrived yet?
In the entire Great Hall, the sound of chewing was sparse, and the clinking of cutlery was rare.
Except for a certain spot at the Hufflepuff table.
Lynn was going at it with both hands, a pair of chopsticks in each, devouring the food in front of him at a shocking speed.
Edgar sat next to him, looking at him as if he were a miracle. "You... can actually eat?"
"Why wouldn't I eat?" Lynn didn't look up. "Man is iron, food is steel..."
"...if you miss a meal, you'll feel the hunger."
"Whoa~ you're finishing my sentences now."
A while later, 6:58 PM.
Dumbledore still hadn't appeared.
The entire Great Hall fell into an eerie silence.
7:29 PM.
Dumbledore walked in through the side door.
His pace was unhurried. He walked to the center of the high table and stood still.
Then—
All the plates, cutlery, candlesticks, and Pumpkin Juice pitchers on the long tables vanished instantly, leaving them as clean as if they had never existed.
"Very well," Dumbledore's voice was calm and clear, cutting through the silence. "The goblet of fire is about to make its decision."
He waved his wand.
"Pop."
The hundreds of bats circling under the dome simultaneously turned into black mist and vanished. The flames in the pumpkin lanterns suddenly dwindled, their brightness fading by more than half, leaving only tiny, firefly-like glimmers. Most of the wall candles also went out, their flickering shadows retreating into the corners.
In this dim, flickering light, the goblet of fire appeared even brighter.
Lynn discreetly pulled his Magic Phone from his pocket and lit up the screen.
19:29:47
He locked the screen and stuffed the Magic Phone back into his pocket.
19:29:51
19:29:58
19:30:00
—
The flame changed.
The blue-white light seemed to be ignited from within, shuddering violently, and then, at an incredible speed, it billowed into red from the inside out.
"Whoosh!"
A tongue of fire shot into the air, sparks splattering like fireworks, falling onto the edge of the Age Line and extinguishing into tiny ashes.
Immediately after—
Three pieces of parchment erupted from the center of the flames.
They traced three intersecting arcs in the air and then landed steadily in Dumbledore's palm.
The Great Hall instantly became so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Dumbledore looked down at the first piece of parchment. He blinked, a slight smile appearing at the corners of his mouth.
"The champions for Durmstrang..." He looked up. "Viktor Krum."
The Durmstrang table erupted in uncontrollable cheers. Krum stood up expressionlessly, gave a slight nod to Headmaster Karkaroff, and then strode toward the door at the side of the high table leading to the small chamber next door.
"Louis Auguste."
As the second name fell, another burst of applause came from the Durmstrang table, but this time it was mixed with a few puzzled whispers.
"And—"
Dumbledore paused slightly.
"Katya Volok."
The applause from the Durmstrang table lagged for a beat.
Katya Volok stood up from his seat. But as he walked toward the door, his gaze involuntarily drifted toward the Hufflepuff table.
Lynn met that gaze and then—gave him a thumbs-up.
Katya's footsteps suddenly halted, his smile froze on his face, and then he quickened his pace, practically fleeing into the chamber.
"Fantastic!"
"It's Krum! I knew it!"
"Wait, Louis Auguste? That name... he actually has a head?"
The whispers were soon drowned out by applause. Ludo Bagman was all smiles as he stood by the chamber door, welcoming the three Durmstrang champions inside.
Before the applause could subside, the goblet of fire vibrated violently again.
This time, it wasn't three pieces.
It was twelve.
The parchment erupted from the flames like snowflakes, circling and intertwining in the air, then splitting into five bundles, which fell into Dumbledore's hands one by one.
"The champions for Beauxbatons—" Dumbledore's voice was as steady as ever, "Fleur Delacour, Chloe Lemay, Sophie Bell."
A chorus of female cheers rose from the Beauxbatons table.
Fleur stood up, her long hair sliding over her shoulders like a waterfall. She gave a slight nod to those around her, her expression calm and proud. The little girl named Gabrielle, sitting at the edge of the table, looked at her sister with sparkling eyes and clapped hard.
"The champions for Ilvermorny—" Dumbledore continued, "Ryan Sanderson, Thomas Elliott, Jordan Hayes."
The Ilvermorny table instantly boiled over. Ryan jumped up from his seat, pumped his fist hard, and then turned to high-five the students behind him.
"The champions for Castelobruxo—Daniel Costa, Luis Almeida, Nicolas Santos."
The three champions rose to acknowledge their surroundings, and Principal Fernando Lima puffed out his chest proudly at the high table.
"The champions for Uagadou—" Dumbledore's voice rose slightly, "Amina Okoro, Naima Achiee, Wangari Kamau."
The Uagadou table erupted in clear shouts and applause. Amina stood up; she tilted her head slightly, her gaze piercing through the crowd to land accurately on Lynn's.
Then—
She raised an eyebrow.
The expression clearly said: Didn't expect that, did you?
Lynn's movements paused for a moment.
Then, he heard someone behind him gasp.
"Isn't Amina only fourteen?!"
This exclamation came from the Ravenclaw table, the voice sharp like a needle piercing the superficial calm maintained in the Great Hall.
Almost at the same moment, everyone's eyes turned to Amina.
Fourteen? How is that possible?
What about the Age Line? Dumbledore's magic? The circle that sent Edgar flying three meters away?
How did she—
"How did you do it?" Edgar jumped up from his seat, his voice filled with shock and despair. "Merlin's beard! How did you do it?!"
Amina looked at him, her expression carrying a hint of confusion.
"Don't you guys help each other out?" she asked back.
Edgar was stunned. "...What do you mean?"
Amina explained patiently, "I had our schoolmates who were seventeen help me cast it in." She paused. "There's no rule saying a person can only cast one piece of parchment."
Edgar: "..."
William's hand froze in mid-air as he adjusted his glasses.
And throughout the Great Hall, all the students under seventeen who had tried to break through the Age Line and failed, or hadn't dared to try at all—they all fell silent at once.
Dumbledore stood at the high table, watching the colorful expressions of the students below, his eyes crinkling happily. He stroked his beard, his voice carrying an irrepressible amusement:
"Helping each other out, what an excellent qual—"
BOOM!
The goblet of fire shuddered violently, and three pieces of parchment shot out from deep within the flames, interrupting Dumbledore.
Dumbledore looked down at the parchment in his hand.
"The champions for Hogwarts..." his voice remained steady, "let's see—Cedric Diggory."
The Hufflepuff table erupted in thunderous cheers. Edgar practically catapulted out of his seat, slapping Cedric's shoulder hard, incoherent with excitement.
Cedric stood up, still maintaining his gentle demeanor. He nodded to those around him and then stepped steadily toward the chamber door.
"Roger Davies."
Applause broke out at the Ravenclaw table. Davies took a deep breath and stood up, his face showing the excitement he was trying to suppress. He waved toward Ravenclaw and followed Cedric's footsteps.
"And—"
Dumbledore's voice stopped.
His gaze fell on the third piece of parchment, lingering longer than it had on the previous two.
"...Harry Potter."
WHOOSH!!!
The Gryffindor table exploded.
"Harry?! But he's only—"
"He's not old enough at all!"
"What about the Age Line?! How did he get past it?!"
"Merlin, how did he do it—"
Questions, exclamations, and voices of disbelief rose like a surging tide. Ron stood with his mouth agape, while Hermione frowned deeply. The tables of the other houses also cast shocked glances over.
Harry Potter sat at the Gryffindor table, his face pale.
He opened his mouth, but before he could speak—
BOOM!!!
This time, it wasn't a vibration.
It was an explosion.
The red light in the goblet of fire suddenly shot into the sky like a pillar of fire.
Sparks flew like a rainstorm, and before everyone's terrified eyes—another piece of parchment was spat out from the depths of the flames.
To everyone's senses, it seemed to float extremely slowly.
In reality, it was just an instant before it landed in Dumbledore's palm.
Dumbledore looked down.
He saw the words on the parchment.
In the Great Hall, no one spoke; even the sound of breathing was suppressed to the extreme.
Because the students saw that Dumbledore's expression had changed. It wasn't confusion, and it wasn't seriousness.
It was shock.
Moody's magical eye clicked and locked onto Dumbledore's face. He strode over on his crutch, his voice guarded. "Albus, what's going on?"
Dumbledore didn't answer immediately.
He looked at the parchment and was silent for several seconds—seconds that felt as long as a century.
Then he took a deep breath.
"Looks like... there has been a slight situation with the goblet of fire."
He paused, his gaze sweeping across the silent Great Hall.
"The Triwizard Tournament will, I'm afraid... have one more new champion."
His gaze began to move.
Slowly, inch by inch, past the red and gold of Gryffindor, past the blue and bronze of Ravenclaw, past the silver and green of Slytherin—and then it landed on a certain spot at the Hufflepuff table.
Lynn suddenly had a very, very bad feeling. An intuition that he was about to experience "social death."
The next second, the premonition came true.
Dumbledore looked down at the parchment to confirm he hadn't misread the words. Then he looked up and, in a tone even he found absurd, read out the name:
"Lynn Xyrus. Azkaban Institute of Higher Education."
"What?!"