Chapter Fourteen: And Three Becomes Four—More or Less
Harish hesitated for a minute, before going ahead and walking past the staff table into the next chamber. As he pushed the door open, the other two champions turned to look at him. They were standing in front of a roaring fire. Harish smiled briefly at them before closing the door behind him.
"So you made it?" Krum asked. Harish nodded. "Vell done."
"Thanks," Harish said, walking forward to join them.
There was silence. Then, the door opened with a bang and a scurrying of feet echoed behind them as Bagman, Crouch, Dumbledore, Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime entered the room.
"Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire?" Dumbledore asked, seizing him by the arm.
Harish closed his mind, but looked him in the eye.
"N-no," he stammered, still keeping a look of confusion.
"Did you get an older student to put it in for you?" Dumbledore questioned again.
"No! That things just—broken! It's broken, I say! How else could my name have come out twice?"
"Tvice?" Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum both parroted.
"Yes," Bagman replied, wiping his shiny face. The staff finally entered behind the others. "Lady, gentleman, may I introduce the third and fourth champion, Harish Blake."
Both of the foreign students straightened up and stared at Bagman. Krum glanced to Harish, silently asking if this was true, receiving a nod. Fleur, however, tossed her long silvery hair and scoffed, "Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman."
"I am afraid it is no joke," Professor McGonagall replied seriously. "His name just came out of the Goblet of Fire—twice no less."
"Surely it is broken," Krum said finally.
"Yes," Fleur agreed. "Evidently zair 'as been a mistake."
Harish nodded.
"There is one way the boy's name could have gotten into the cup," a voice growled near the door. There was a dull clunk, clunk as Moody walked forward. "Someone could have put Blake's name into the goblet and to ensure he made it, put it under another school as well."
"Yes, obviously 'e wanted the odds fixed in 'is favour!" Madame Maxime exclaimed.
"Only dark magic could have hoodwinked an object as powerful as the Goblet of Fire!" McGonagall shot back. "Anything beyond a student here could do."
"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Blake…as he didn't put his name in in the first place."
"But why should 'e complain?" Fleur asked, stomping her foot. "'E 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money—zis is a chance many would die for!"
"Maybe someone's hoping Blake is going to die for it," Moody growled.
The silence that followed these words was extremely tense. Harish stood there awkwardly. Moody had just voiced what he had been wondering ever since his name had come out the second time. Sirius's words that he had sent in his letter weeks before echoed around the inside of Harish's head.
"Your father wants someone to keep an eye on you this year. He reckons trouble is brewing..."
Ludo Bagman was looking very anxious, bouncing up and down on his toes. "Moody old man," he muttered. "What a thing to say!"
"We all know Professor Moody considers the morning wasted if he hasn't discovered six plots to murder him before lunchtime," Karkaroff said loudly. "Apparently he is now teaching his students to fear assassination as well."
"Imagining things, am I? Seeing things, eh? It was a skilled witch or wizard who put the boy's name in that goblet…"
"Ah, what evidence is zere of zat?" Madame Maxime asked, throwing up her huge hands.
"Vy is this such a big deal?" Krum asked all of a sudden. The others turned toward him.
"Zere are three champions, aren't zere?" Fleur asked. "What does zis matter?"
Harish noticed that both of them had stepped forward to where they were standing slightly in front of him.
"Vy don't ve just get on vith the procedure so ve can return to our beds for the night?"
"I honestly see no reason of why zis is so important. Zis Blake can compete, for all I care."
Everyone was staring at the two of them in surprise—even Harish. There was a tense silence before Bagman rubbed his hands together and smiled.
"Well, shall we crack on, then?" He looked around the room. "Got to give instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honors?"
Mr. Crouch seemed to come out of a deep reverie.
"Yes," he said, "instructions. Yes…the first task…"
He moved forward into the firelight. Close up, Harish thought he looked ill. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and his skin looked paler and thinner.
"The first task is designed to test your daring," he told Fleur, Krum, and Harish, who had stepped forward to join the others, "so we are not going to tell you what it us. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard…very important… The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges.
The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to compete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over, Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests."
Mr. Crouch turned to look at Dumbledore.
"I think that's all is it, Albus?"
"I think so," Dumbledore said. He was looking at Crouch with mild concern. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay the night, Barty?"
"No, Dumbledore, I must get back to the Ministry," Mr. Crouch replied. "It is a very busy, busy time at the moment…I've left young Weatherby in charge…Very enthusiastic…a little overenthusiastic, if truth be told…"
Harish snorted, knowing that the man was talking of the twins' older brother, Percy. Everyone started to file out. Madame Maxime had her arm around Fleur's shoulders and the two of the were talking in rapid French. Most of the teachers had left as well. Karkaroff motioned for Krum to follow. The slightly older boy paused and nodded to Harish before leaving as well. Not eager to be left alone with Dumbledore, Harish hurried out after them. Then he cross the entrance hall and went down the many flights of stairs to the dungeons. As he went, he brooded about what Moody had said.
Then, as the entrance to the common room opened up, there was an earsplitting noise that caused Harish to jump out of his skin. Next thing he knew, the twins had seized him and wrenched him down the steps into the common room. All around him, people were screaming, applauding, and whistling.
Then, people forced food into his hands. Someone had even unearthed an old Slytherin banner from somewhere and tied it around him like a cloak. Harish was only able to get away after half an hour, insisting he needed to go to bed. He looked at the twins pointedly and they followed him down to their dorm.
"Why did it come out twice?" they asked him as he leaned tiredly onto his bed.
The sixteen-year-old shook his head.
"I mean, I know I had Avery put it in," he said. "But I don't know who put the other one in?"
"Wait, so someone else—"
"Put your name in too?"
Harish nodded.
"Old Mad-Eye reckons someone put it into the goblet under another school."
The twins nodded.
"That does make sense," Fred muttered.
"And you remember what Sirius sent me in his letter?" Harish added. "'…trouble is brewing…' Maybe my father suspected this."
"I think you should write him about this," George said. "Him—"
"And Sirius," Fred added.
Harish nodded. He rummaged for a second in his trunk before pulling out his quill and a piece of parchment. As he scribbled a letter down, the twins continued mulling over that night's events as they got ready for bed.
"But why put your name in again?" George asked as he tugged a pajama shirt over his head.
Harish paused briefly, glancing up at them before shrugging and continuing to write.
"Maybe—well—do you reckon someone has it in for Harish?" Fred wondered aloud, smothering his toothbrush in white paste.
"That's what Moody thinks," Harish muttered.
"Huh?" both twins asked, pausing. George was halfway through putting on a pair of trousers while Fred had a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth.
Harish huffed slightly and set his quill down.
"That is exactly what old Mad-Eye thinks—that someone is trying to kill me. Probably thinks the tasks alone are dangerous enough to do it for me."
The twins snorted.
"Whoever it was must not know you too well, mate," they said.
With that they slid into their beds. Harish set finished letter aside and climbed into bed, fully clothed. What the twins said was true. While they might not have known who put it in, at least Harish had the comfort that whoever it was had no idea how determined and prepared for anything he was.