Hogwarts' Golden Glory

Bullying the weak and fearing the strong is a common phenomenon in nature.

So they could only point the finger at Harry.

Every time Zachary Smith of Hufflepuff encountered Harry in the hallway, he would loudly proclaim, "Hey, Potter, what trick did you use today? Invisibility Cloak? Age-enhancing potion? Or did you just cast the Imperius Curse on Dumbledore?"

His friends were laughing loudly beside him, as if they wanted everyone to hear them.

Harry ignored him.

He couldn't stop arguing every time he was scolded. He was all alone; Ron wasn't there for him.

Slytherin's people are even more ruthless.

Pansy Parkinson said in Potions class, "Potter, how much did you pay for your Champion spot? My dad said that cheaters like that used to get expelled."

Blaise Sabini slowly chimed in, "Maybe it wasn't about spending money. Maybe it was about trading fame. After all, he's the 'famous' Harry Potter."

Draco was not involved.

He sat in his Slytherin seat, head down, stirring the cauldron, his expression complex.

He neither spoke up for Harry nor joined in the mockery.

He remained silent, as if he were thinking about something else.

Harry gripped his wand tightly. He wanted to rush over, to point the wand at their faces, to shut them up.

Give each of them an unforgivable curse!

Only Neville would occasionally pat him on the shoulder and whisper, "I believe you." But Neville didn't dare say it out loud, because Seamus would glare at him.

Harry felt like the whole world was collapsing.

The only good news is that Hagrid believes him.

That afternoon, Harry went to Hagrid's hut for tea.

Hagrid brought him a cup of tea bigger than his head, with three sugar cubes in it. "I know you didn't cheat."

Hagrid tapped his dark fingernails on the cup. "Those people don't understand you. I do. You've never been that kind of person since you were a kid."

Harry held his teacup, remaining silent. He was afraid that if he opened his mouth, he would burst into tears.

"Dumbledore also believes in you."

Hagrid continued, "He said he'll investigate the Goblet of Fire matter. Until then, you just need to focus on preparing for the match. Don't pay attention to what others say."

"They said some really nasty things," Harry said in a low voice.

"They're a bunch of brainless idiots." Hagrid slammed his hand on the table, making his teacup jump. "You want them to try it themselves? They'd all wet their pants in fear!"

Harry's lips twitched slightly. "Thank you, Hagrid."

"No need to thank me. Go ahead and have some rock-skin cakes." Hagrid pushed a plate of hard cakes over.

Harry picked up a piece, took a bite, and almost broke his tooth.

But he ate it anyway. Because it was Hagrid who made it.

Because Hagrid was one of the few people who were still willing to talk to him.

That night, Harry lay in bed, staring at the top bunk.

Ron's bed was opposite, with the curtains drawn.

Harry knew he wasn't asleep because his breathing was off—too fast, too shallow, like he was thinking.

Harry didn't want to talk to Ron anymore, a friend who didn't believe him?

Harry closed his eyes, trying his best not to think about these things, since thinking about them was pointless.

The following afternoon, after Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Harry ran into Kane in the hallway.

Kane had just come from the direction of the cellar when Igor perched on his shoulder, his dark gold feathers gleaming faintly in the torchlight.

Draco followed behind him, paused when he saw Harry, and then looked away.

Kane stopped in his tracks. "Harry, we're almost at the first task. Prepare well for the challenges ahead and practice your Summoning Charm more."

Then left.

Harry watched his retreating figure and thought that Kane might be the only person in the entire school who truly understood him.

I know how he was wrongly accused.

But no one dared to talk about Kane, because everyone knew Kane was very strong.

If age weren't an issue, everyone would know that the hero would definitely be Kane.

Harry suddenly felt a little envious of him.

That noon, Harry went to the Great Hall for lunch.

Just as they reached the doorway, a burst of laughter erupted from the Slytherin table. Pansy Parkinson, standing beside the table, spoke so loudly it could be heard throughout the Great Hall: "Hey, isn't that Potter the Warrior?"

Crabbe and Gore laughed together, their laughter sounding like two gasping oxen.

Blaise Sabini slowly cut his steak. "Warrior? Does Porter deserve that title?"

Pansy covered her mouth and laughed. "Anyway, it's a thief, a stolen spot."

"Pansy." A voice came from the other end of the Slytherin table, not loud, but clear.

Everyone looked at Kane. Kane put down his knife and fork, his gray eyes looking at Pansy.

Pansy's smile froze on her face. "Kane, I just—"

"There are still Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students at the school."

Kane's tone was as calm as reading from a textbook, "By saying these things here, you're making Hogwarts a laughing stock. A Slytherin, talking about his classmate cheating in public. What do you think Karkaroff would think if he saw that? He'd think that's all the class students at Hogwarts are like."

Pansy's face turned red.

She wanted to argue, but when she met Kane's gaze, she couldn't utter a single word.

Kane stood up. He glanced around the Slytherin table, and no one dared to look at him.

"Anyone who disagrees with Harry Potter," Kane said, "who thinks he doesn't deserve to be a champion, who thinks he got in by cheating, step forward now. Let's have a wizarding duel, and I'll be the referee."

The auditorium fell silent.

Everyone was looking at Kane.

Are you kidding me?

We'd believe you if you were fighting someone else, but this is Harry Potter?

Having one freak like you is enough, do you expect there to be another freak?

Kane turned to Harry. "Potter, would you like to give it a try?"

Harry stared at him, momentarily stunned.

He recalled his previous training and the ridicule he had received these past few days.

He has confidence in himself!

Then he put down the bread he was holding and stood up. "Okay."

Kane nodded.

He turned to the Slytherin table, his voice low but loud enough to be heard throughout the Great Hall. "Is anyone coming?"

silence.

At the Slytherin table, everyone had their heads down. Some were poking at their mashed potatoes, some were pretending to drink water, and some were staring at the table.

"Nobody here?" Kane's tone was tinged with sarcasm. "Weren't you having a lively discussion just now?"

Just then, at the end of the Slytherin table, a person stood up.

"I'll do it."

Everyone looked at him. His name was Drian Puse.

A sixth-year Slytherin student, tall and thin with dark hair and a few pimples on his face.

He wasn't from a prestigious pure-blood family like the Malfoys, but he was academically gifted, especially in Defense Against the Dark Arts. He also submitted his name during the Goblet of Fire registration period.

He was seventeen years old, meeting the age requirement, but the Goblet of Fire did not select him.

Harry Potter was chosen, and Kane Malfoy was chosen too.

He dared not mess with Kane.

But Harry Potter disagreed.