Harry returns from Hogwarts Legacy

Chapter 263 A Born Master of Deadly Curses
Before even entering the principal's office, Moody had already started shouting.

"Dumbledore! Dumbledore!"

However, the gargoyle at the door wouldn't open the door for him just because he was yelling at Dumbledore. It didn't even acknowledge him and just sat there in its place, lost in thought.

"Open the door!" Moody looked down at the dripping stone beast.

"Password," the dripping stone beast said expressionlessly.

"I don't know what the password is!" Moody roared. "There's a student in the school who's skilled in the Killing Curse. I think I need to ask the headmaster what he's doing!"

"Password." If the dripping stone beast could make expressions, it would definitely be speechless right now.

Family members, does anyone understand? I'm speechless.

No matter what urgent matter you have, even if someone burns the school down, you still need a password to enter the Hogwarts Headmaster's office, right?

This is the rule!

However, the door to the principal's office opened quickly, and Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge walked out with a subtle expression on his face.

“Alastor,” Fudge greeted Moody warmly upon seeing him.

Moody didn't speak, he just nodded as a greeting.

Fudge seemed to have gotten used to Moody's attitude. He didn't think anything of it, but gave Moody a strange look before turning and leaving, as if he had something important to do.

Moody pulled Harry inside through the open door.

"Albus! Albus!"

They went up the spiral staircase and into the headmaster's office, where Dumbledore was sitting behind a desk, seemingly deep in thought.

Upon seeing Moody dragging Harry along, Dumbledore exclaimed "Oh!" and snapped out of his reverie.

“Oh, Alastor.” He looked up with a smile, his deep blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles gleaming with intelligence. “What brings you here?”

“I need your attention,” Moody said, turning back to glare at Harry. “Just now in class, this student was able to cast the Killing Charm with ease; his skill is in no way inferior to the Dark Lord’s—”

“Oh, I see.” Dumbledore seemed completely unsurprised. He said with a smile, “So what do you think? Do you believe that the savior who defeats the Dark Lord will side with Voldemort and become a glorious Death Eater?”

"Uh--"

That's a good question, and it's good because Moody's can't answer it.

"Or do you think he will become the new Dark Lord?" Dumbledore asked again.

“I have reason to doubt!” Moody glared at Harry fiercely.

“Relax, Alastor,” Dumbledore waved his hand casually. “You should know that it’s easy for natural spellcasters to emerge among wizards—for example, I once had a friend who was a natural Legilimency master; perhaps because of Voldemort’s Killing Curse, Harry might also become a natural Killing Curse master. After all, a philosopher once said that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger…”

You know what, Dumbledore's words left Moody speechless.

He glanced at Dumbledore, then at Harry.

Just as he was about to speak, he suddenly remembered something, reached into his pocket, but found nothing.

He glared at Harry fiercely and said angrily, "I'll keep an eye on you no matter what, kid—even if you're Harry Potter!"

After saying that, he limped out of the principal's office.

“What’s wrong with him?” Harry turned to look at Dumbledore.

“You know,” Dumbledore shrugged, “after being an Auror for so many years, he’s bound to be a bit paranoid—generally speaking, his retirement was a success. He does cause trouble sometimes, but these little mishaps don’t happen often. However, he’s become very suspicious since his retirement. His Evil Eye is constantly scanning his surroundings, and he only drinks from his rose-colored flask, as if afraid someone might poison him—besides, he doesn’t trust any food, even if it’s cooked by his friends.”

“PTSD (Post-traumatic Stress Disorder)?” Harry asked rhetorically.

"Perhaps." Dumbledore smiled and asked Harry, "Well then, Harry, since you're here, there's something I need to ask your opinion on—would you like to participate in the Triwizard Tournament?"

Want to participate in the Triwizard Tournament?
So, should I think about it or not?

Harry thought for a moment and decided to use the same excuse he had given his friends last time.

He reached out, put one hand inside his pocket, tilted his head up at a 45-degree angle, and made a compassionate face.

"Although I am not in a position of authority, I still consider it my responsibility to bring glory to the school. If it is the will of the people that only by becoming a warrior can I truly benefit the school, then I can only take on this responsibility and completely abandon my own selfish desires."

Dumbledore: ...

Well, you think you can just hand me a message like that?

Those who know you might think you're running for British Prime Minister, but those who don't might think you're participating in a three-way race.

“In that case, I understand.” Dumbledore nodded. “Then let’s settle on this. You will represent the school in this Triwizard Tournament. What do you say?”

"Did you guys decide this?" Harry asked, scratching his head. "I thought there would be some... well, special touches."

“Generally speaking, the champions of each participating school are chosen through a magical item called the Goblet of Fire, and each participating school is allowed one champion to represent them in the competition,” Dumbledore said. “Anyone who wants to become a champion must write their name and school on a piece of parchment and throw it into the Goblet of Fire. After a few days, the Goblet of Fire will spray out the names of the three students it deems most qualified to represent their respective schools.”

"Can you control the Goblet of Fire?" Harry asked curiously.

“Of course,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “The champions of each school are actually already decided beforehand. The champion of Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour, and the champion of Durmstrang is Viktor Krum… These are decisions made by the three headmasters after discussion. Of course, I am still hesitating between you and Cedric for the champion of Hogwarts.”

Harry was dumbfounded; he had thought the Goblet of Fire was really going to reveal its name.

"Does this mean it's a kind of pre-arranged decision, a handpicked decision?" Harry asked.

“That’s not your concern, Harry,” Dumbledore said, blinking. “My answer is—no comment.” “Fine,” Harry said, shrugging.

On Friday, Dumbledore announced in advance that he would make an announcement about the Triwizard Tournament in the Great Hall that evening.

The students who received the notification were extremely excited. They were all whispering and arguing in small groups about who would be the final warrior.

In the evening, everyone gathered together.

Two more people were added to the faculty seats: Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch.

Once everyone had arrived, Dumbledore stood up.

“The moment has finally arrived,” he said, smiling at the grim faces. “The three-way battle is about to begin. I’d like to explain a few things first, then bring the box in—”

As soon as he finished speaking, Filch, who had been standing at the entrance, turned around decisively and left the auditorium.

The students didn't notice him leaving because they were all staring at Dumbledore, who was speaking.

"I'd like to explain our program for this academic year, but first, please allow me to introduce our two guests, as some of you may not recognize them. This is Mr. Barty Crouch, Director of International Cooperation at the Ministry of Magic."

Sparse applause rang out in the auditorium.

"This is Mr. Ludo Bagman, Director of the Department of Physical Education and Sports at the Ministry of Magic."

Both men stood up when they were introduced, but Mr. Crouch looked very serious and simply stood there without any expression; while Ludo Bagman was much more friendly, waving happily to everyone and looking extremely pleased.

This resulted in much louder applause for Bagman than for Mr. Crouch, perhaps because he was a well-known batter, or perhaps simply because he appeared so approachable and unpretentious.

“I don’t like Crouch,” Ron whispered to Harry. “He seems really pretentious, don’t you think?”

“Me too,” Harry replied quietly.

“Over the past few months, Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly to arrange the Triwizard Tournament,” Dumbledore continued. “They will join me, Professor Karkaroff, and Mrs. Maxime as the judges to evaluate the warriors’ efforts.”

Upon hearing the word "warrior," the students seemed to concentrate even more. Dumbledore seemed to notice their sudden silence as well, and with a slight smile, he said, "Mr. Filch, please bring the box up."

No one noticed that Filch had reached the doorway and was walking toward Dumbledore, carrying a large, old wooden box inlaid with jewels.

The students watched intently, discussing it with great interest.

Dennis Crevey stood on a chair to get a better view, but he was so small that even standing, his head wasn't much taller than the others.

"Are you planning to sign up?" Ron asked Harry in a low voice. "I hope you can sign up. Gryffindor doesn't have any decent candidates in the upper grades right now. I don't want our house's glory to be stolen by that pretty boy Diggory."

“I’ve already spoken with Dumbledore,” Harry replied. “Don’t worry, I’ll participate.”

"Then I'm relieved." Ron smiled and patted Harry on the back with a grin.

No one paid attention to their conversation, as everyone's attention was drawn to the Goblet of Fire.

In the main seat, Dumbledore had already given a brief introduction to the Triwizard Tournament.

“As you already know, there will be three champions participating in the competition,” Dumbledore continued calmly, “each representing one of the participating schools. We will score them based on the quality of their performance in each competition, and the champion with the highest score after all three competitions will win the Triwizard Cup—the champions will be selected by a fair selector, the Goblet of Fire.”

Upon hearing Dumbledore's words, Harry felt no emotion whatsoever; in fact, he almost wanted to laugh.

A fair selector, right?
Are you sure this cup is truly fair?
Dumbledore, seated at the head of the table, drew his wand and tapped the box lid three times. The lid then slowly and creaked open.

Dumbledore reached in and pulled out a large, roughly carved wooden goblet.

The cup itself is unremarkable, but it is filled with dancing blue and white flames.

Dumbledore closed the box and placed the cup on the lid so that everyone in the Great Hall could see it clearly.

“Guess what kind of fire is in there?” Seamus craned his neck, peering at the flames burning in the Goblet of Fire. “I bet it’s some very advanced magic…”

“It should be the Ancient Flame, right?” Hermione said uncertainly. “This is probably the only flame that fits the description… but I’m not sure…”

“Every student who wants to run for Warrior must write their name and school on a piece of parchment and drop it into this goblet,” Dumbledore said. “Aspiring Warriors can register within twenty-four hours. Tomorrow night, the goblet will select the names of the three students it deems most representative of the three schools. Tonight, the goblet will be placed in the foyer, where all students who wish to run can touch it.”

"In addition," Dumbledore continued, "students under the age of seventeen can explain their desire to participate in the Triwizard Tournament to their Headmaster before tomorrow's deadline. We will discuss it thoroughly and decide whether you are suitable to participate in this tournament."

Upon hearing this, the four academy chairs were initially stunned, then erupted into enthusiastic cheers.

Those under the age of seventeen can have their suitability for this competition determined through thorough discussion.
Long live the principal!

Even at the very end, Dumbledore didn't forget to dampen the spirits of his classmates.

"Finally, I would like to remind every student who is running for the title that this competition is not a game, so please do not participate rashly. Once a warrior is chosen by the Goblet of Fire, he must persevere in the competition to the end. Whoever puts their name into the goblet actually forms a magical contract that must be obeyed."

At this point, Dumbledore scanned the students in the Great Hall with an extremely serious expression.

After being swept over by Dumbledore's gaze, the students' previously boiling hearts cooled down slightly.

"Once you become a warrior, you can't change your mind. So please think carefully and make sure you really want to participate in the competition before you put your name in the cup."

After finishing the serious topic, Dumbledore winked at everyone again.

"Alright, I think everyone should go to sleep now. Goodnight."

With that, Dumbledore turned and left the Great Hall.

(End of this chapter)