A certain Hogwarts professor of runes.

Harry then noticed that three Hogwarts champions were sitting opposite Fleur. Cedric smiled at him: "Is there something you need? We couldn't hear very well inside; it's too noisy outside."

Harry found himself suddenly unable to speak, especially when facing the three champions of Hogwarts, feeling as if Snape had secretly cast the Tongue-Locking Spell.

Just then, they heard hurried footsteps behind them, and Ludo Bagman ran over. "Why are you all blocking the door?" he said excitedly, squeezing the three of them—Harry, Ron, and Hermione—into the room, where the heat of the room hit them.

“This is incredible!” Bagman gripped Harry’s arm tightly, dragging him to the center of the room. He looked around as if reciting a classic theatrical line, “This is absolutely incredible! Ladies and gentlemen, please allow me to introduce—though it may seem unbelievable—the sixth group of champions for the Tournament!”

He seemed oblivious to the stares he was receiving, and beckoned to Hermione and Ron, who were still standing in the doorway, "Come here, this is quite a sight! Your seniors are here too, you should get to know them—"

Ron grabbed Rahmini, but she flung him away. He walked over alone, straightening his back. He was dizzy, filled with immense joy. He suddenly wanted to raise his wand and chant the Patronus spell. He was sure he could succeed; he was a warrior, after all! This was a scene he had never witnessed even in the Mirror of Erised during his first year.

But Furong's words poured cold water on his enthusiasm—

“I’m sorry, Mr. Bagman,” Fleur said, “Is something wrong? They can’t compete; they’re too young—two little boys and a little girl.”

Harry, who was glancing around out of the corner of his eye, was in a complete mess of thoughts and emotions—he saw Cedric's confused expression, Krum frowning by the fire with a gloomy look on his face, Byers's mouth agape, and the three Vagado warriors glaring menacingly—but when he heard Fleur's words, he still felt a surge of anger.

Little boy?

Just then, a large group of footsteps approached, and the door was slammed open. Mrs. Maxime, tall and imposing, walked in, followed by a string of headmasters and a sickly-looking Barty Crouch.

“What does this mean, Dumbledore?” she said angrily, her head almost hitting the chandelier hanging from the ceiling—a chandelier containing a magical lamp that blocked a large portion of the light when she stood up, plunging the room into darkness.

“I’d like to know that too, Dumbledore,” Karkaroff said, a cold smile on his face and a chill in his eyes.

The other principals looked furious, ready to retaliate at any moment.

The scene inside the auditorium was quite different—

Felix crouched down, carefully examining the extinguished goblet of fire. It looked like something a clumsy carpenter had casually carved out with an ill-fitting axe, lacking even a complete curve.

But he watched very intently, his eyes sparkling.

"Did you notice anything, Felix?" Flitwick asked quietly. "Is there something wrong with the Goblet of Fire?"

“It’s easy to draw that conclusion. The question is, who did it, and how?” Felix said softly. “That’s not my biggest concern. Two unique teams of warriors… that might not be a good thing.”

Flitwick looked at him hesitantly. "Dumbledore will handle it, won't he?"

At this moment, the auditorium was in chaos and commotion, with many professors spontaneously trying to maintain order. "Prefects, take responsibility!" Professor Sprout called out. "The principals will come to a decision; we just need to wait."

"Not waiting!" an impatient voice said.

Professor Sprout turned around, staring in astonishment at the man limping towards them. "Professor Moody...?"

Moody also stayed in the auditorium.

He passed Professor Sprout, his demonic eye swirling wildly in its socket as he stared at the chaotic students in the auditorium.

"Quiet!" he roared. "Now listen to me," he paced through the crowd, his wooden cane making a dull thud, "there's been a slight mishap. Your headmaster has more important matters to attend to, and there are some things I need to clarify for him—"

He raised his head, his eyes scanning the crowd, and said softly, “I know that some of you are unconventional, or afraid of losing face… In any case, you chose to register at night… in the dead of night… you thought you were alone, but there is a sinister figure lurking in the darkness. I am absolutely certain that some of you saw him… those things that you found unusual, things that were different from usual… eerie shadows, illogical reflections, think about them carefully, and then tell me.”

Amidst an unsettling commotion, the young wizards looked left and right, and from the crowd, a Hufflepuff wizard shakily raised his hand.

"It's you? It's you! Child, what have you discovered?"

Moody strode over, put an arm around the young wizard, and bent down to ask. The young wizard was terrified and tried his best to stay away from Moody's prosthetic eye.

“Professor Moody, you seem to have frightened him,” Felix said, having somehow appeared beside Moody and subtly observing him.

“You’re right, Professor Hyp.” Moody clicked his tongue, a smile tugging at his scarred face, making him look even more terrifying.

However, he stepped back a few paces and gave up his position.

Felix rescued the young wizard from Moody's clutches and asked gently, "What's your name? What grade are you in?"

“O-Owen Caldwell, sir,” the little wizard stammered, “I’m in first grade.”

Felix smiled. "You can call me Professor Hyp. So, Mr. Caldwell, you went out for a night stroll last night? For a freshman, you're quite daring. Tell me what you saw?"

“It wasn’t a night out, Professor Hyp,” Owen emphasized. He saw Moody lower his head again, that terrifying face getting closer and closer to him, and he quickly closed his eyes. “I wanted to go to the kitchen to find something to eat. Eleanor told me. She, she’s my friend… But on the way back, I thought the Goblet of Fire was in the foyer, and I could go and see it… Professor, I didn’t mean to break any rules.”

“Yes, I know. What did you see?” Felix asked, getting to the point.

"I...I saw it...I saw it..." he stammered, then suddenly his eyes widened. "The principal of Durmstrang!"

The auditorium was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

"That's impossible! He's lying!" a Durmstrang student exclaimed indignantly.

“I didn’t!” the young wizard named Owen shouted, his face flushed. “I saw his beard, a goat’s beard! He was sneaking out of the hall!”

“Well done, kid.” Moody grinned menacingly, dragging Owen toward a room next to the auditorium. “I need your testimony. Let’s see what they have to say for themselves!”

Felix followed behind, secretly thinking that he wasn't as optimistic as Moody; things were probably in complete chaos inside.

Sure enough, they heard Karkaroff's voice as soon as they opened the door—

"The bylaws? Unfair bylaws! I insist that my students re-enroll, and of course, other schools as well. In short, this time, Hogwarts must be excluded!"

“But Karkaroff, I’m afraid that won’t work,” Bagman said anxiously. “The Goblet of Fire has just been extinguished and won’t be rekindled until the next tournament—”

"Durmstrang will absolutely not participate in the next tournament!" Karkaroff roared, pacing back and forth in the cramped room, his silver-white fur cloak whistling loudly. "Then, I propose we lift the restrictions on Durmstrang students, the part about dark magic..."

"Kakarov, we've already agreed on this—"

"You're talking to me about discussion? Haven't we had enough meetings already? And what did we get in return? Shameful cheating! I want to leave right now!"

“Are you crying wolf, Karkaroff!” Moody roared. “All champions must participate in the competition, as Dumbledore said, it is bound by a magical contract, unless you want your students to suffer severe punishment.”

Karkaroff stared at him, panting, his eyes bloodshot, but he didn't mention leaving again. He turned to the other three principals and said, "Say something, am I the only one who objects?"

The headmistress of Vagad—the short witch—spoke. She sat cross-legged on the sofa by the fireplace, with three Vagad warriors standing behind her. The broad-shouldered student completely blocked the firelight from the fireplace.

“I’ve heard long ago that there’s a tradition of cheating in the tournament,” she said, grinning like a strange-looking voodoo old woman. “But I’ve always admired Headmaster Dumbledore. If he says there was no cheating, then someone else must have rigged it—”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Moody said gruffly. “Albus, I’ve brought some evidence.” He nudged the young wizard, who nervously repeated what he had just said in the Great Hall, then closed his eyes, his eyelashes trembling.

Harry looked at him from afar, as if he were seeing his former self.

At this moment, things seemed to take a turn for the better. Everyone—including Durmstrang's three warriors—turned to look at Karkaroff, the headmaster who had always been unpopular at the school.

"I...you...you're framing me!" Karkarov said in a panic.

“Then tell me why you were in the foyer in the middle of the night?” Moody said gruffly. “Don’t try to deny it, I’m watching you.”

Karkarov stood to the side, looking exasperated. He turned to the other three principals and asked, "What are your thoughts?"

"Don't try to change the subject! Clear your name first before you talk about others!" Moody roared.

“What do you think I would do?” Karkaroff shouted. “I’m just cautious by nature, and I habitually check things over… Even if I wanted to cheat, I wouldn’t create a second group of champions for Hogwarts out of nowhere!”

This makes sense. The principals nodded slightly. Everyone wanted their own team to win and would never do anything to aid the enemy or give other schools a second chance.

But Moody persisted. "Maybe someone's goal isn't to win...yes," he said, his voice laced with a hint of rage. "Maybe someone wants Potter dead for this. Yes, some of you don't understand, what's the big deal about an ordinary little boy...but you understand his value, don't you, Karkaroff?"

His demonic eye darted around, taking in the expressions of everyone in the room. His only intact eye was fixed on Karkaroff, spitting everywhere.

"Don't forget who you used to be. Some scum will always be scum, and you—"

“Alastor!” Dumbledore looked at him sternly, and Moody clicked his tongue and remained silent.

Karkaroff, like a wounded animal, suddenly lost all his strength and involuntarily leaned against the wall. "This is... a threat! I'm telling you, it wasn't me... there's no reason..."

Mrs. Maxim gave a loud snort, took up a sofa by herself, and said, "I must remind you that we've gone off-topic. I don't know what grudges you have, but our focus now is on how to deal with the extra group of champions at Hogwarts."

“These are minor issues,” Felix suddenly said.

“A minor problem? A minor problem!?” Mrs. Maxim repeated his words in annoyance.

“Yes, it’s a minor issue… Please wait a moment, madam,” Felix said, glancing at Dumbledore. “Albus?”

Dumbledore looked up and met his gaze—

In an instant, light and shadow distorted, and the world appeared upside down.

Chapter 383 Dialogue and Solutions

Inside the Mind Hut, Felix handed over a cup of tea.

“This is getting more and more real,” Dumbledore said curiously, taking a small sip of the amber liquid. “What kind of tea is this? I don’t think I’ve ever had it before.”

“Ordinary tea, our tastes are different,” Felix said, sitting opposite Dumbledore. At this moment, they were the only two people present.

"How much time do we have?" Dumbledore asked with a smile.

“Two and a half minutes,” Felix rubbed his head. “If you insist, five minutes at most.”

“That’s at least a quarter of an hour,” Dumbledore said, nodding slightly.

Felix glared at him, rolled his eyes, crossed his legs, and said slowly, "Two things: appease the four schools and find out who's behind this."

Dumbledore crossed his long fingers in front of him. "What are your thoughts?"

"The first issue is easy to resolve; it mainly depends on your opinion."

"My opinion?" Dumbledore said with a smile.

"The Goblet of Fire's covenant cannot be broken; that alone could crush them. But this would create a problem: Hogwarts' reputation would plummet, bringing shame upon them internationally—"

“This is a scenario I don’t want to see either,” Dumbledore said decisively. “We need to make some compromises.”

“There are two options: strengthen your competitors or weaken yourself. The former is not advisable, since each school has different needs,” Felix said calmly.

“Then we have to choose the latter. Let’s talk about the second thing, that’s the key point,” Dumbledore said. “Who do you think their target is?”

“It can only be Harry, that’s the most likely possibility.” Felix suddenly thought of something: “Sirius mentioned Harry’s scar to me during the World Cup…”

“I know about this. Sirius Black wrote to me about it too.” Dumbledore changed the subject and said in a deep voice, “Let’s get back to the Goblet of Fire. I once suspected that Harry had used some means to bypass the Goblet of Fire’s restrictions, but when Miss Granger appeared, I knew it was impossible.”

"Is it possible to bypass the restrictions? I always thought it was a powerful Confusion Charm..."

Dumbledore smiled and said, "The rules of the Goblet of Fire are set by humans, and humans are bound to have loopholes. To be honest, I'm a little disappointed in the people behind the scenes; their methods are too obvious."

Felix nodded. That made sense. If a loophole in the rules could be found, it would be even more baffling. But now, everyone knew that the Goblet of Fire had been deliberately interfered with.

The difference is that the other four schools believe that Hogwarts was behind it, and even if they weren't, they still benefited greatly.

"So, it's Voldemort?"

“So, Voldemort,” Dumbledore said softly, “but based on my understanding of him, it couldn’t have been him who did it.”

“He definitely had accomplices, the one who attacked Harry with Peter Pettigrew, and maybe more.” Felix continued, following the headmaster’s train of thought: “He once ruled over a large part of Britain, so this shouldn’t be difficult for him.”

At this point, his mind raced. He had given Lucius Malfoy a deadline before Christmas, but the situation had changed, and he couldn't wait any longer. Besides, according to the Swift Guardian's feedback, the mysterious antique dealer also seemed to have some connection to Malfoy Manor…