Chapter Text
The great hall was silent.
It was a scarce sight; one very few students or teachers alike had ever witnessed in all of their time at Hogwarts.
The great hall was usually bustling with activity, it served as the eating hall, study room and was often overbearingly loud housing hundreds of different conversations, dramatics and scandals.
The few who had ever witnessed a ‘silent hall’ in fact were the handful of visitors during the summer, Filch who stalked around the castle in the late hours of the night desperately searching for those breaking curfew, and the Weasley twins who always evaded his capture, preparing to set an elaborate prank for the next day.
Yet the great hall at present met none of these requirements, it was in fact the end of the school year, and the busiest time of the day, the evening meal of which all inhabitants were required to attend. Every member of the castle had made certain to attend on this night. No, it was not that the hall was empty, it was simply silent. The type of heavy droning silence caused by hundreds of people sat brimming with expectation for a unique event.
The Triwizard tournament had taken place this year and whilst that itself was spectacular, a momentous occasion, the trials of the tournament paled in comparison to the tradition that would take place tonight.
As all of the wizarding world knew, the goblet of fire selected three victors of the Triwizard tournament, one from each school. These were the students who the goblet deemed as the bravest, smartest, strongest and the worthiest of representing their school as a champion. It was unclear why in particular they had been chosen for this honour but it was certainly significant as none who ever participated in the tournament went on to lead uneventful lives. These people were certainly special, had qualities that led them to stand out, achieve heights further than others would ever manage.
Of course, the goblet never revealed the choices behind the decision until after the tournament had taken place, where the champion, victors and all who wished were shown why these people were worthy. It was a tradition of the Triwizard tournament and an event that caused as much excitement and anticipation for some as it did fear and dread for others. Although for the victors, the goblet choosing them would be one of the happiest and treasured memories of their life, this tradition was held in reproach.
It was in fact one of the reasons among the high death tolls that the tournament had been stopped. For on the night after the final task, the three victors regardless of who the champion was would have to face their schools and all the world to see what trials they had faced, their traits, feelings and memories that led to them being chosen. For the victors, the glory and fame often outshone any embarrassment or fear from these revelations.
For Harry Potter however, this was but another reason he would have never entered himself in the tournament. Not only had he been hoping for a quiet year, not wanting to enter into a competition that was so dangerous they had to cancel it for the high mortality rate but also, having all of your most private thoughts, intimate experiences and memories broadcasted to the public, no thank you. He had enough of people hating and fearing him over the ears, he needed no further reasons for people to make fun of him, call him a liar, talk about him and snoop nosily on his business and like Rita Skeeter in those articles about him. He was determined to never participate in the tournament.
Naturally, he was entered into the tournament.
And of course, he won it which led him to sit here, on a bench facing the entirety of the great hall with the other two victors, a profound empty spot on the end of the bench.
Harry was enraged, he hated this blasted tournament, despised the thing. The great hall filled to the brim with journalists, the daily prophet, ministry officials and students along with many parents to watch the chosen victors’ lives. As if it was some kind of ‘reward’ to show how special the contestants were even if they didn’t win Harry thought scoffing.
Harry thought it was especially sick, to be subjected to this, only a day after Cedric’s death as if there was something to be happy about. Nevermind, that more than half the school didn’t believe him about the circumstances of Cedric’s death, the fact all these people still turned up to watch the memories of a boy who had died from this very tournament and why he was worthy to be ‘chosen’ was a travesty. He could see those who agreed with him, a crying Cho was seated at the back of the Ravenclaw table and in the audience, he could see that Cedric’s parents too had shown up. Not wanting his memory to be tarnished, and any way of seeing your son again was worth it Harry supposed, he would show up to watch his parents if he could.
Harry noticed the other champions, Viktor and Fleur looking pale and peaky, nervous for what the goblet would reveal, he was even more nervous. At first Hermione and he had assumed that maybe as the fourth champion he would get lucky, that because the cup hadn’t meant to pick him, he would not have to face the revelations of why he was a worthy victor, because of course he wasn’t a true champion. However, the four lights in the goblet of fire quickly let him know the truth, after all he had won, he supposed, it would be odd if the winner had no labelled characteristics for why they were the ultimate champion. He sighed in resignation.
Harry looked to Dumbledore who was stood upon a podium before the hall, the headmaster cleared his throat, which he needn’t have done to gather the attention of such a silent room.
“Thank you all for being here today” he began, face still grave from the events of last night and the news of Cedric’s death.
“As you know, we at Hogwarts lost one of our own last night, many of you may not wish to be here, myself included”.
Harry could see the pain in his eyes. “I understand that what will be shown today many may find upsetting, nevertheless this is a long-standing tradition, the powers of the goblet are ancient and forgotten, but it is important that we understand despite recent events.”
He paused and swallowed, a shine to his eyes and command to his voice that Harry knew held people’s attention.
“This is a great honour, all those who chose to be victors, to stand and fight for their schools he said nodding towards where the three sat, are unique and special in their own way, the goblet today will show you why they were chosen, why they are true victors, champions” he said, reverence in his tone.
People started to nod and chatter, the crowd gathering some life to it as people regarded the champions, even him he thought surprised, with awe.
Dumbledore’s tone became severe at this reaction. “Despite this” he said, “we must also have great respect for the invasion of privacy, the intimate experiences that reveal one's character, these will be private memories and although most of our champions volunteered for this” he said, a clear indication to Harry's exception to this, Harry flushed at the eyes suddenly on him.
Dumbledore continued “I ask that we all understand and respect privacy, these memories will undoubtedly end up published and I should ask that all of you think of these as people who have feelings and not as things to be gawked at or gossiped mercilessly about.”
Dumbledore regarded the crowd sternly, the students nodding in response, even the ministry and reporters taking the situation with the severity it deserved. Harry was surprised to see even Lucius Malfoy seeming subdued although Harry thought, this was an old tournament, undoubtedly this magical tradition would have posed a problem in the past.
Dumbledore smiled at the confirmation. “now of course, we have no control over the order of the victors, the goblet will decide to reveal who it wants, in the mysterious ways it works” he said expelling a bit of mystery.
His gaze turned to the three champions. “Ready?” he asked softly.
He waited for each of them to nod in affirmation, Harry being the last who gave an unconvincing grin. Dumbledore letting Harry see the sympathy in his eyes.
“Let us begin” he said.