Completely incapable of perceiving reality, the teenager somehow made his way to the door on lumbering legs. It wasn't until he was in a small room with a brightly burning fireplace and three older boys that Harry began to perceive reality. Even though he wished he could wake up, it all turned out to be a dream.
— Is something wrong? — asked the beautiful blonde, the very sight of which confused Harry.
All he could do was shake his head in the negative. But then he saw the eyes of two guys studying him more closely than the pretty girl. And while Krum looked at Harry with simple interest, the boy saw understanding in Sora's eyes. Without knowing how, but the teenager knew — Sora already understood everything. In confirmation of this thought, the Japanese covered his eyes and nodded weakly. Harry feared that his new acquaintance, or even his older friend, would misunderstand the situation, suspect him of lying, just like the screams his frightened and confused mind had picked up in the Great Hall.
But there was nothing of the sort in Sora's gaze, only a kind of incomprehensible "understanding" that could often be seen on the strange boy's face. Harry didn't even have time to realize the thought, as if it had just passed him by. "I wish I had a brother like that..." — Harry's mind raced. But in the midst of all the other thoughts and worries, this one was lost without a trace.
And then it got worse: a whole crowd of people hurried down the stairs, each one saying something, loudly indignant, arguing. The Headmaster and Professor McGonagall came quite close to the teenager, and Professor Snape stood a little to the side, but not far away, and he could see and hear everything. Headmaster Dumbledore gripped Harry's shoulders tightly and looked intently into the green, frightened eyes. Harry had only seen Headmaster Dumbledore so serious a few times before.
— Harry, be honest: did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire? — There was no hint of amusement in the man's voice, only focused seriousness.
— No, Professor. — Harry shook his head, his old glasses reflecting the flames of the fireplace for a moment.
The headmaster continued to stare into his eyes, but the boy had nothing to hide; he had no intention of competing with the more skilled upperclassmen.
— The boy is lying. — came the Potions Master's unpleasant, venomous voice. — Potter has traditionally chosen to draw attention to himself — it's obvious. — Stretching his sentences slightly and pausing in the right places, Snape drew everyone's attention.
Harry lowered his eyes, feeling worse. How could he prove that he wasn't involved? Who would believe him? There was noise in the background again, the indignant voice of the French girl, the voices of other adults arguing among themselves. The teenager felt his mind enveloped in a sticky fog of misunderstanding and doom. Despite his hopes, he hadn't heard a single word of support from his dean or principal, as if everyone had accepted his cheating by default. He felt sick to his stomach, his insides churning. Again, there was a stream of caustic comments from the Potions Master....
— Mr. Snape, what are you doing here? — came the voice of the hitherto silent Sora, cutting off all conversation and getting everyone's attention. — I understand why everyone else is here, because the Headmasters," the boy nodded respectfully to each Headmaster, "the Dean of Harry and I," McGonagall nodded, "the official representative of the British Ministry of Magic," a slight half-bow to the mustachioed man. — You should be here, but what are you doing here?
— None of your business. — The professor hissed venomously, his whole demeanor showing disapproval, if not contempt.
— It is mine. — Sora took a step forward, showing his height superiority over the Potions Master. — But you're not needed here. — The Japanese man's face was stone-faced, showing absolutely no emotion, which sent a shiver down Harry's spine and a bead of sweat down his forehead. — All the more reason for us to ignore your unfounded accusations. — Harry didn't understand why everyone was as silent as he was.
— It's all clear to me! — The Professor grinned again, examining Hoshino squeamishly. — It was you who helped Potter, wasn't it? What a friendship! A new generation of troublemakers, vile, ill-mannered villains...'' — The Professor was prevented from finishing by a snow-white glove flying into his face.
Harry watched with wide-open eyes, unable to believe his eyes. The teenager could hear the stunned gasps of those around him, but he didn't see Dumbledore's frown.
— You've pissed everyone off enough, Mr. Snape. — The boy's cold voice made Harry jump, unable to look away from what was happening. — All the more reason for you to cross the line. A duel.
— Professor Dumbledore, — the potions master grinned venomously, keeping his eyes on Hoshino. — It looks like I'm going to have to teach a rude fool an extra lesson if you don't set him straight right now.
— To the death. — Sora's voice made everyone shudder, and the blonde covered her face with her palms, a look of sheer terror in her eyes.
— Mr. Hoshino. — The voice of the director was as hard as steel. — Call it off. Immediately. — and it was the most commanding tone Harry had ever heard.
— No. — Sora stared straight at his elders, his face and eyes expressionless. — I am in my right and I won't take any more insults from scum. — The boy turned to the mustachioed man. — Mr. Crouch, will you be my second?
— Are you sure, Mr. Hoshino? — The mustachioed man looked at him with a steady, attentive gaze. — Your participation in the tournament is more important than this petty...'' — The man glared at the potions master. — ...misunderstanding.
— Of course. — Sora looked confident, no matter how much Harry looked at him, the Japanese man didn't give away his excitement in any way. Harry couldn't have acted the same way if he were Harry, he remembered the travesty of the duel in his second year between Snape and Lockhart, and the wizard was an Eater, and everyone there was supposed to be a strong fighter. Why Sora would want to do that, Harry didn't understand. — Since I've been here, — Hoshino spoke again. — Mr. Snape has tried to insult or humiliate me in every possible way, and it's not just me, the entire Gryffindor faculty is a personal enemy of his. I thought he was trying to encourage the children to work this way, but no, Mr. Snape just turned out to be a rotten man trying to assert himself at the expense of others, at the expense of the children. — Sora said all this to Crouch, who listened intently, but then turned back to Snape. — I think it's a matter of petty, childish resentments and huge complexes. — Sora smiled wretchedly and looked at the Potions Master.
Harry could have sworn he had never seen such hatred in his life. It looked like Professor Snape was about to go for the cheeky Japanese's throat. There were streams of hellfire in his black, angry eyes that wanted to break free right now, but thanks to Merlin, Morgana and everyone else, it couldn't happen.
— Severus! — came the headmaster's stern voice, but it was ignored.
— Fame does seem to turn the heads of underage puppies — a second example, and a second confirmation. — sneered the professor haughtily, with maximum venom. — I suppose one 'hero' is more than enough for Britain, but the 'leftovers' should be cleaned up, — Snape grinned wickedly. — So they don't pollute the air.
— Oh! — he grinned — Harry couldn't think of another way to describe the look on Sora's face. — This is the first time we've agreed, Professor, that rubbish should be disposed of in a timely manner, because no matter how much it's moved from place to place, it remains rubbish.
— What a surprise, — Snape grinned venomously, his thin lips curling obnoxiously. — Someone's brain seems to have erupted! But that won't help you, Mr. Hoshino! — the Potions Master hissed. — I'll show the students the consequences of not keeping your mouth shut, but unfortunately, you won't be able to use it. — Another evil grin, and the wizard walks away with a spectacular wave of his robes.
— [Poser]. — Sora said in an unfamiliar language.
This was not at all what Harry Potter had expected from this evening. In his wildest dreams, the teenager would go see a new movie, return to the faculty lounge after the show, discuss and reminisce about the movie for a while, and then go to bed. He hadn't expected the Headmaster to let his participation in the tournament go so easily: just a few questions, Mr. Crouch's answer, and Harry's fate was sealed. Was it meant to be?
Professor Alastor Moody had spoken of a powerful Confundus cast on the Goblet of Fire, but why wasn't the artifact protected from such magic? Why must he, a fourteen-year-old teenager, pay for the oversights and mistakes of adults? It's all strange, really, as it is every year at Hogwarts. Instructions? What are they for when it all comes down to the usual "survive as you wish"?
But not recognizing Sora's help, Harry couldn't. During the last weeks he had managed to observe the "nasty slugs" and the teenager had suddenly learned a lot of banal, for every wizard usual little things. So why hadn't Weasley noticed much? After telling Milenta Bulstrode how much he enjoyed digging in the vegetable garden, Harry tried to continue the conversation, but was met with complete incomprehension. When Harry filled in the details, Bulstrode took it upon herself to explain that garden gnomes were magical parasites, something like mold that formed on dirty, wet rags.
Garden gnomes don't appear randomly, only where it's not the best place to live, or where "blood traitors" live. And later, after outrage and almost a fight, Harry learned the meaning of the term. It turned out that one of Ron's ancestors had betrayed his own family, its covenants, and didn't try to reform, continuing to break the internal laws until the "Family Stone" was destroyed. Unfortunately, he never found out what that stone was — he just didn't have the time, and now there was the tournament.
It was good that Sora had supported him, otherwise the other Headmasters might have thought Harry was a crook, and he wouldn't have wanted that. But he shouldn't have acted like that, maybe it could still be fixed.