Hogwarts: Starting with full Unforgivable Curses

Chapter 327 Goblet of Fire

Whispers arose and drifted through the air: "What's in that box? Is it an item for choosing a warrior?"

"It looks quite old, could it be the legendary Goblet of Fire?"

"Definitely is!"

Filch walked step by step through the crowd, his leather shoes making a "thump-thump" sound on the stone pavement.

He walked very lightly, as if afraid of disturbing the contents of the box, and the students' whispers spread with his steps.

All the discussion abruptly ceased as if a pause button had been pressed, only when the wooden box was steadily placed on the stone platform conjured by Dumbledore.

The entire auditorium was quiet, with thousands of eyes focused on the wooden box inlaid with various gemstones.

Dumbledore raised his wand, a glint of light flashing at its tip: "Before revealing the key, I must first explain the tournament arrangements. The Triwizard Tournament consists of three events, which will run throughout the school year and will be held in different months."

His gaze slowly swept across the entire arena. "These three tests are not only a measure of the warriors' magical abilities, but also a test of your courage, wisdom, and ability to respond to unexpected situations. Each one holds unknown challenges."

As soon as he finished speaking, he gently lowered his wand and tapped the top of the wooden box three times.

"Crunch - crunch -"

A muffled thud immediately followed, and the lid of the wooden box slowly opened along the patterns of the gemstone inlay, revealing the items inside.

It was a crudely made wooden goblet, its body larger than an adult's head, and its stem so thick that it required both hands to barely encircle it.

Its appearance is hardly exquisite; in fact, it could be described as rudimentary.

The carving marks on the cup are of varying depths, and some places still have unpolished wood splinters. The marks of knife and axe are messy and disorderly, making it look like a half-finished product that has just been completed, which forms a glaring contrast with the gorgeous jewelry box on the outside.

Yet, within this unassuming wooden cup, a blue-white flame danced.

The flames did not feel hot at all; instead, they gave off a faint coolness.

It danced lightly on the rim of the cup, its light reflecting off the faces of the students around it, making them glow with a bluish-white light, and even eclipsing the gems on the stone platform.

This bizarre yet magnificent sight caused the students, who had initially been slightly disappointed by the rough texture of the cup, to hold their breath in shock.

"From now until the Halloween dinner starts tomorrow, you have time to consider whether to register."

Dumbledore's voice drew everyone's attention back: "Ultimately, it will choose the champions who will represent their respective schools."

He pointed to the auditorium doors, "After the banquet, the Goblet of Fire will be moved to the foyer, where all interested students can have a look at it."

"I think everyone is clear about the core requirements: only students who meet the age requirement or pass the school's selection assessment are eligible to put their names into the Goblet of Fire."

He paused, then made a circular motion with his wand in mid-air.

"To ensure the rules take effect, I will set up a magical age barrier around the Goblet of Fire—anyone who is not old enough or fails the test will not be able to get close to it, let alone register."

“The registration process is very simple,” Dumbledore continued. “Take a piece of parchment and write down your school and name by hand—it must be ‘handwritten,’ any writing by someone else will be detected by the Goblet of Fire. After you’ve finished writing, just put it into the blue flame in the goblet.”

He specifically looked at the Hogwarts students, "As for the students selected through the school's internal selection process, they need to write their information on a special brown card and throw it into the flames to complete the registration process."

As soon as he finished speaking, murmurs of discussion immediately filled the auditorium.

Some people turned to ask the senior students next to them when the selection and assessment would be, while others clutched the hem of their clothes, wondering if they could try out if they were a few months too young.

Some people excitedly discussed with their companions whether their magic could handle the challenge.

Dumbledore raised his voice at the opportune moment, and the glimmer of light at the tip of his staff shone again, drowning out all the whispers.

"I must emphasize to everyone—the Triwizard Tournament is a serious matter!"

His smile faded, his brows furrowed slightly, and his tone became unusually serious, "The moment you cast your name into the Goblet of Fire and become a hero, you forged a magical pact with it."

“You should all know the power of a magical contract.” His gaze sharpened. “Once the contract is entered into, you must do everything in your power to complete all the projects. There is no possibility of quitting halfway.”

"Therefore, please think carefully before you put pen to paper."

Dumbledore let out a soft breath, his expression softening once more.

"The dinner is now over. Everyone, please go back to your dorms and rest."

He gestured with his chin toward the Goblet of Fire. "Think carefully about whether you can bear the weight of the contract, whether you are truly willing to risk everything for the competition. Goodnight, everyone."

The blue flames on the stone platform continued to flicker, reflecting the different expressions on the students' faces as they stood up.

Some people's eyes lit up, some hesitated, and others kept turning back to look at the crudely made wooden cup, their steps slowing down.

Before leaving the auditorium, Dylan made a point of looking back at the Goblet of Fire on the stone platform.

When he observed it up close just now, he could detect a few very faint magical patterns as his fingertips brushed against the air around the cup.

Those were unique traces of ritual magic, with fine lines and a flowing, cyclical texture.

Combining this with the magical contract that Dumbledore mentioned at the end, he gradually came to understand the situation.

These traces are mostly related to the signing of contracts; the Goblet of Fire binds registrants to the event through ritual magic.

As for whether there are other secrets hidden in the cup, we'll probably have to wait until we handle it and examine it carefully to find out.

Many students in the auditorium were huddled together in twos and threes, whispering amongst themselves. Some had even moved half a step towards the foyer.

But when they saw the figure carrying the Goblet of Fire walking towards the foyer, everyone sighed in unison.

Leading the way was Dumbledore, who held the Goblet of Fire steadily in his hands, the blue-white flames dancing around its rim, completely unaffected by his walking.

Dumbledore walked straight to the center of the hall, waved his wand, and a stone platform half a person's height immediately rose from the ground, just enough to hold the Goblet of Fire.

After setting down the cup, he walked around the platform again with his wand. As the tip of the wand swept across the ground, it left a thin golden ray of light that solidified upon landing, forming a circle with a radius of about ten feet, precisely circling the Goblet of Fire in the center.

The golden coil gleamed with a soft luster, and a slight magical resistance could be felt when you touched it with your toes.

This is the age limit that Dumbledore mentioned.

"Let's go back to the lounge early."

Dumbledore turned around, looked at the students who were still lingering, and smiled knowingly. "Tomorrow is the weekend. You need to be well-rested to enjoy it properly."

His tone was somewhat teasing, and he even winked slightly as his eyes swept over the dejected students.

The students could only nod reluctantly. Some kicked the ground in frustration, while others grimaced at the golden coil. In the end, they dispersed in twos and threes, heading towards their respective college's common room.

However, the appearance of the Goblet of Fire completely disrupted the students' schedules.

The next morning.

Many people got up half an hour earlier than usual and even brought their breakfast directly to the foyer.

Some held buttered bread in their hands, some had sandwiches tucked under their arms, and others carried hot milk, forming a semi-circle around the Goblet of Fire.

Even if they couldn't register, everyone wanted to see for themselves who would be the first to submit their name.

The hallway was filled with chatter, occasionally punctuated by the sounds of food being chewed.

Dylan had just finished feeding his pets and was returning when he heard a hissing sound as he stepped onto the stone steps of the foyer.

Immediately afterwards, two figures flew out from inside the golden coil and crashed straight to the ground.

Dylan reacted quickly, snapping his fingers, and two light blue fluffy cushions immediately appeared below the figures, catching them with a "plop".

"Huh? I didn't even hurt myself..." Fred's voice came from the mat. He touched the mat beneath him; it was soft and had a faint lavender scent.

"This mat is nice, even more comfortable than the pillows in our dorm." George sat up and rolled around on the mat, messing up his hair.

Upon seeing Dylan standing beside them, the two immediately flashed their signature smiles.

Fred stood up, using the cushion for support, and dusted himself off. "Dylan, thanks a lot, otherwise I would have definitely fallen and hit my butt."

George, supporting Fred's shoulder, stood up straight, his gaze fixed on the Goblet of Fire, and asked in a light tone, "You haven't signed up yet, have you? Want to come along?"

Before Dylan could speak, a loud "bang" suddenly rang out.

The students in the lobby burst into laughter.

Dylan couldn't help but smile.

Suddenly, Fred and George appeared before them, their noses sprouting thick, white beards that almost reached their chests, exactly like Dumbledore's long beard. Even their eyebrows had turned snow-white and bushy, making them look like two miniature versions of the "old wizard." "Merlin's beard!" Fred reached up and touched his chin, his eyes widening as he felt a clump of soft hair. "What the hell is this?"

George quickly pulled out his small mirror and, after seeing his reflection, exclaimed, "The aging serum is malfunctioning?"

The laughter around them grew louder, and some people were laughing so hard they couldn't stand up straight, spilling most of their milk.

Dylan stared at Fred and George's stubble-covered beards that reached their chests, and tilted his head: "Didn't you two already pass the selection test? Since you were able to participate in the registration, how come you were bounced off the age limit?"

Fred's hand, which was stroking his beard, froze in mid-air. George also put away the small mirror in his hand. The two looked at each other and both showed a bit of embarrassment.

They did pass the school's selection process, but they were still two years too young for the competition.

"I passed the selection, but the age limit is very strict."

George scratched his head, his snow-white eyebrows twitching, looking somewhat comical. "I was thinking of trying this..." he said, gesturing towards the ground with his chin.

Dylan's gaze had already fallen on the two men's feet.

The edges of the two parchments were curled up by the airflow.

The words "Fred Weasley, Hogwarts" and "George Weasley, Hogwarts" were written on it in messy handwriting.

Not far away lay a small glass bottle, half-broken, with the remaining green liquid sticking to the bottle wall and emitting a faint, fishy-sweet smell.

Without even thinking about it, he could recognize that it was an aging agent.

"An anti-aging agent."

Dylan crouched down, his fingertips hovering a few centimeters above the glass bottle without directly touching it. "You guys are trying to use this to get past the age limit?"

Students who had been watching the spectacle gradually gathered around, some curiously peering over: "You can use aging agents like this?"

Dylan straightened up and explained, "The proportions of this potion require extremely high precision. The core ingredients are aged red wine and tortoise shell, and the properties and ages of the two must be strictly matched—for example, a ten-year-old aged red wine must be paired with a tortoise shell that is about ten years old; even a difference of half a year can affect the potion's efficacy."

He paused, then added more details about the ingredients: "In addition, we also need to add bat tongues, caterpillar pupae, and white succinate."

"Bats use echolocation to locate their environment. Their tongues contain a special magic that can 'rewind,' ensuring that once the drug's effects wear off, the user can return to their original age."

"The pupa of the caterpillar and the pupa of the ghost-faced hawk moth are similar in principle, containing the energy of 'transformation and rebirth', which can assist the tongue's retrograde effect."

"Once the body recovers its age, the healing properties of the white senna extract can repair the subtle damage caused to the body by the sudden changes in age."

Fred touched his nose and whispered, "When we made it, we used five-year-old red wine and tortoise shells, and we didn't skimp on the ingredients, so how did it fail?"

"Judging from the material ratio alone, there is indeed a possibility of success."

Dylan nodded in agreement, but then added, "But the key to the effectiveness of aging agents isn't just on a physical level. It requires the user to be fully engaged in the process of 'getting older.'"

"Not only do we need to meet the physical age requirement, but we also need to adjust our spiritual understanding at the same time. At the very least, we need to make our consciousness truly believe that 'I have reached this age.'"

He looked at their still bushy white beards and continued, "This kind of comprehensive adjustment of the soul is extremely difficult. If it is possible to achieve this, even if one is not old enough, one can still pass the mental test in the selection assessment. There is no need to use such a trick as an aging agent."

Upon hearing this, George slapped his thigh in frustration: "So we were wrong from the start? We shouldn't have messed around with this medicine."

As soon as he finished speaking, the beard on his chin suddenly twitched, and a few strands of white down fell out.

It seems the drug's effects are becoming unstable.

Seeing this, the students around him couldn't help but laugh again. Fred rolled his eyes and reached out to pull out the beard on his chin, only to find that it was all real hair, which made him wince in pain.

"Because they... drank the aging serum!" Li Qiaodan laughed so hard he couldn't stand up straight, one hand supporting himself against the wall, the other clutching his stomach, speaking haltingly, tears welling up in his eyes.

He finally managed to steady himself and squeezed next to Fred and George. He not only confirmed Dylan's statement, but also reached out and gently stroked Fred's white beard. The feeling of his fingertips brushing against the hair made him laugh out loud again: "I must say... it's quite smooth, much softer than my grandfather's beard."

Fred raised an eyebrow and exchanged a knowing glance with George.

“George, do you remember what we were talking about?” Fred deliberately dragged out his words, his hand already subtly resting on Lee Jordan’s arm.

George immediately nodded in understanding, and gently poked Lee Jordan on the back with his fingertip: "Of course I remember—Lee, such a great 'beard experience' can't be enjoyed by us alone."

Before Li Qiaodan could react, the twins grabbed his arms from both sides, swung him around, and pushed him directly toward the golden age limit line.

There was a muffled sound.

Li Qiaodan was bounced out as soon as he crossed the line.

Dylan was prepared. He snapped his fingers again, and a fluffy cushion instantly appeared in his path, catching him steadily.

The lobby was now completely bustling.

Fred, George, and Lee Jordan stood side by side on the mat, their long, gray beards hanging down to their chests. They pointed at each other's faces and made fun of each other, their laughter rising and falling.

Students who were having breakfast in the auditorium heard the commotion and rushed out with their trays, quickly filling the lobby with onlookers.

Ron squeezed to the front of the crowd and immediately recognized his older brother. He pointed at their beards and laughed so hard he almost fell over, his ears turning red: "Fred! George! Are you planning to retire early and become the principal?"

Fred and the other two exchanged a glance, then got up and were about to pounce on Ron. Seeing this, Ron quickly shrank back and ran to Dylan's side to hide, even making a face at the twins.

"Stop joking around," he said, panting, trying to change the subject. "Didn't you already pass the school's selection process? Why are you doing this?"

George, mimicking Dumbledore, slowly stroked his beard and deliberately lowered his voice: "Want to try and see if there's another way to bypass the age limit?"

Fred stroked his beard, his tone carrying a hint of calculation: "If we could save those two selection cards, we might be able to sell them to upperclassmen who want to apply and get some Galleons in return."

"You guys are truly amazing!" Ron immediately gave the two a thumbs up, his eyes full of admiration.

"As expected of Headmaster Dumbledore, the age limit is really flawless."

The voice of Ernie McMillan came from not far away. He was lying on a stone table writing something, the pen tip sliding quickly across the parchment.

His eyelids drooped, and there were faint dark circles around his eyes, clearly indicating that he hadn't slept all night and had been staying here to record the registration information.

"Either you can cross the age limit, or you have a selection card, otherwise you have no chance of getting close to the Goblet of Fire."

Harry, who had just registered, walked over and, upon hearing this, couldn't help but ask curiously, "Besides Fred and the others, has anyone else tried to cheat?"

"There are plenty of them."

Ernie put down his quill and rubbed his sore eyes. "Summers from our college folded his application form into a paper airplane last night, hoping it would fly into the Goblet of Fire."

"As a result, the plane stopped in mid-air as soon as it crossed the age line, and as if by magic, it pulled Summers back into the line. In the end, he was also ejected, and his beard was even longer than Fred's."

"And then there's Monta from Slytherin. He wasn't qualified himself, so he encouraged Warrington to move the Goblet of Fire."

Ernie scoffed, his tone full of disdain. "That cup was placed there by Headmaster Dumbledore himself. Warrington was so frustrated that his face turned red. He tried to push it and bend over to lift it, but the cup didn't budge an inch. He even strained his back in the end."

"Fawcett from Ravenclaw is even more interesting. He was squatting here at three in the morning, trying to sneak his name in when no one was around. But he was bounced off as soon as he touched the age line. He's probably still covering his face in his dorm right now."

As he spoke, he flipped through the register and read out the names of those who had registered.

As Harry listened, he suddenly turned to Dylan and asked, "Dylan, you should have already registered, right?"

"Not yet, but it's perfect right now."

Dylan pulled a card from his pocket, on which were clearly written in silver ink, "Dylan Hawkwood, Hogwarts," with neat handwriting and faint magical patterns printed on the edges.

Whether Dylan participates or not is actually irrelevant to him.

There are many things you can do outside of the game, but in reality, you can do quite a lot even inside the game.

Dylan, clutching the card, steadily stepped into the golden age limit.

He deliberately slowed his pace, focused his mind, and carefully sensed the magical fluctuations around him.

The moment he threw the card into the Goblet of Fire, the blue-white flames suddenly shot up half an inch. The card did not burn in the fire; instead, it transformed into a wisp of golden light that blended into the patterns on the goblet's surface.

At that moment, Dylan clearly perceived that a faint but stable connection had been established between his consciousness and the Goblet of Fire.

The act of registering itself is part of the ritual magic, requiring the registrant to have a clear intention to "participate in the competition".

This intention resonated with the ritual magic of the Goblet of Fire, thus completing the initial binding of the contract.

He stood there for a moment, and only after confirming that the magical trajectory he sensed was correct did he slowly walk out of the age limit line.

(End of this chapter)