Chapter Text
“Stop doing that, it's getting annoying” Percy told his roommate of seven years. Oliver didn't appear to hear him because his thighs were still shaking up and down. Dumbledore, still in the middle of his monologue, stood in the center of the room, next to the Goblet of Fire.
"Merlin, can this old man just get on with it?" Oliver muttered to himself.
“I don’t understand why you would even want to participate in this, especially since we have our NEWTS this year” Percy said to Oliver.
“Well this only comes every seven years and you get to represent all of Hogwarts” Oliver turned to Percy “Plus I wouldn’t mind a chance at beating that smug bastard”.
Both Oliver and Percy turned to look across the room to Viktor Krum who looks bored as the rest of the people inside the room.
“Now… the moment has arrived” Dumbledore waves his wand and the torches inside the room all die out leaving the Goblet illuminating the room in an eerie blue glow. The entire room is silent. Then the flames in the Goblet turn bright red and small parchment flies out and Dumbledore catches it in his hand.
“The champion of Durmstrang is… Viktor Krum!” Dumbledore announces. A loud applause accompanies him as Viktor walks towards the front of the room and then into the adjoining chamber.
“No surprise there” Percy overhears Ron say from the other table.
Beside him Oliver grumbles muttering several curses. Percy sighs, perplexed by his friend’s obvious hatred towards the Bulgarian quidditch player.
“You know, one would think you’d be thrilled in talking about quidditch to someone who played for a national team” Percy says to Oliver. Oliver, who didn’t seem to hear him or was simply ignoring him, was now intently glaring at the Goblet as if he was willing it would spurt out the paper with his name on it.
The Goblet glows red again ending all chatter in the room. A second parchment flies out.
“The champion for the Beauxbatons is… Fleur Delacour!” Dumbledore announces. The other Beauxbaton students, as well as many male Hogwarts students, cheered as Fleur walked to the front and entered the adjoining chamber. Ron was being especially loud, even whistling from the other table, oblivious to Hermione's annoyance right next to him.
“Come on, come on, please, please…” mutters Oliver beside him, his thighs now full on vibrating. Percy is worried he might pass out.
“Don’t get your hopes up Wood, it won’t be you” a voice says from a nearby table. Marcus Flint, who was with the other Slytherin quidditch players, leered at Oliver enjoying his nervousness.
“Fuck off Flint, if it isn’t me it sure as hell isn’t gonna to be you” Oliver barked back at Marcus.
“It could be not either of you, you know” he heard George comment from the other table.
“Yeah, it could be anyone… even our dear brother right here could be Hogwarts’ champion” Fred continued while grinning at Percy.
“Definitely not. I don't have the time nor do I really care about this tournament” Percy replied to his brothers “Plus I’m not putting my name anywhere near that Goblet”.
“You sure?” Fred and George both responded a little too calmly.
“What did y-”
“Sssshhhhh” Oliver said to him as the room once again turned bright red and the final parchment fluttered into Dumbledore’s hand. There was complete silence as the entire school waited for Dumbledore to announce Hogwarts’ champion.
“And the champion of Hogwarts is… Percival Weasley!”