Hogwarts' Golden Glory

Mrs. Maxim stood beside Karkarov, her tall figure casting a shadow in the candlelight.

Her voice was deep and strong: "Karkaroff is right. We need an explanation, Dumbledore. Why are there three champions at Hogwarts? Why were two children chosen?"

Dumbledore raised his hand, stopping Karkaroff from speaking further.

His blue eyes swept over everyone, finally settling on Harry.

"Harry," Dumbledore's voice was gentle but serious, "did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?"

All eyes turned to Harry at the same time.

Fleur looked at him, Cedric looked at him, and Krum finally turned around to look at him.

Karkaroff's eyes were like knives, Madam Maxim's expression was like a judge's, and Moody's prosthetic eye stopped moving, staring intently at Harry.

Harry opened his mouth. His throat was dry, and his voice was a little hoarse.

"No," he said. "I didn't."

Karkaroff scoffed: "Every chosen child says that."

"I didn't," Harry repeated, his voice a little louder than before.

"I never put my name in the Goblet of Fire. I don't know how it came about, but I didn't sign up."

Karkaroff took a step forward, his gray eyes filled with suspicion. "Then how did your name get into the Goblet of Fire? The Goblet of Fire doesn't write names by itself, Potter. Someone—you, or one of your friends—must have put their name in there."

He paused, a cold smile tugging at the corners of his mouth: "Did you get an older student to vote for you?"

"No," Harry said.

Are you sure?

"I'm sure."

"Then explain it to me—"

"Kakarov, don't doubt your student like that!"

Dumbledore's voice wasn't loud, but Karkaroff immediately shut up.

Dumbledore's intimidation was too strong, preventing him from having any thoughts of resistance.

Dumbledore walked up to Harry and looked down at the fourteen-year-old boy.

There was no doubt in his blue eyes, only a heavy, complex light.

"Harry," Dumbledore said softly, "I'm not asking this to question you. I'm asking it to make sure you're safe. If someone voted for you—whatever their purpose—that person is probably not a friend."

Harry's heart skipped a beat.

He remembered what he had read in Sirius's letters: "This thing really kills people."

He remembered Hermione saying, "It's too dangerous." He remembered Ron's unusually serious expression.

"I don't know who voted for me," Harry said. "I really don't know."

Dumbledore looked at him for a long time, then nodded.

"I believe you," he said.

"Albus—" Karkaroff was interrupted by Dumbledore before he could finish speaking.

"The selection of the Goblet of Fire is magically binding." Dumbledore's voice regained its unquestionable calm. "Whatever the name was entered into, once chosen, it has legal force. Harry Potter must participate."

"So your school has three participants? Then we'll add two more!"

"If you mind the results, I can represent my family in the competition, and my family will also invest in it!"

Kane then spoke up.

As soon as he finished speaking, everyone's gaze shifted from Harry to another person in the room.

Kane Malfoy leaned against the wall by the door, his arms crossed over his chest, looking as relaxed as if he were in his own living room.

Igor perched on his shoulder, his dark golden feathers gleaming faintly in the candlelight, his silver eyes half-closed as if he were dozing.

Kane didn't even flinch when stared at by a dozen pairs of eyes.

"Mr. Malfoy."

Mrs. Maxim's voice was low and held a condescending scrutiny. "You explain yourself. You're thirteen years old, also under the age of candidacy. How did your name get in?"

"I didn't register," he said.

Karkaroff sneered, letting out a snort. "Another one who didn't register. Are all Hogwarts students this forgetful? Or—" He paused, a cruel smile playing on his lips, "you have an underground organization that specifically votes for minors?"

"Kakaloff," Professor McGonagall's voice cut like an ice scalpel through the air, "watch your words."

"I'm just stating the facts."

Karkarov spread his hands, but his expression clearly said, "I'm provoking you."

"Two underage children, both thirteen years old, were chosen by the Goblet of Fire, and both of them said 'I don't know.' Isn't that suspicious?"

Hibiscus stood beside the fireplace, her pale blue eyes coldly fixed on Karkaroff.

Her lips moved as if she wanted to say something for Kane, but she was stopped by Mrs. Maxim beside her and swallowed her words back.

Dumbledore did not speak.

His blue eyes gazed calmly at Kane, as if waiting for him to speak.

Kane walked directly up to Karkaroff and looked at him.

"My name," Kane said, his voice soft, but each word clear as if etched on a stone slab, "was thrown in."

"Who?" Karkaroff pressed.

"I don't know, but I have some guesses in my mind," Kane said.

Karkaroff laughed again: "You don't know? You also—"

"You didn't put it there, did you? Why are you in such a hurry to speak?"

Kane interrupted him abruptly, his tone icy.

This sent chills down Karkaroff's spine.

"I can guess what their purpose is."

The room became quiet.

Even the flames in the fireplace seemed to hold their breath.

Kane's gaze swept over everyone—Mrs. Maxim, Karkaroff, Moody, McGonagall, Snape, Dumbledore—before settling on Karkaroff's face.

"Someone is rigging this match," Kane said. "Harry and I were chosen not because of the will of the Goblet of Fire, but because someone tampered with it. The goal wasn't to let us compete, but to have us die on the field."

"Who in this world most wants Harry dead?"

Everyone's face was filled with fear.

Harry's fame comes from whom everyone knows? The boy who survived.

The person who most wanted Harry dead was Voldemort!

Karkaroff's smile vanished.

Mrs. Maxim's eyes narrowed slightly.

Moody's prosthetic eye stopped moving and stared intently at Kane.

"What makes you so sure?" Karkaroff's voice lowered, no longer defiant, but wary.

Kane did not answer.

He simply stared at Karkaroff, his grey eyes devoid of any emotion.

“Because,” Kane said slowly, “I have studied the magical principles of the Goblet of Fire. Its age detection mechanism is based on the nature of magic, not physical age. If someone can cast a confusion charm on the Goblet of Fire, making it ignore age detection, that person—is at least a wizard with extremely high attainments in dark magic.”

He paused.

"And among all the wizards at Hogwarts, only a handful of people here can achieve that."