Hearing Tver's firm yet courteous reply, Madam Maxim fell silent once again.
"However," Dumbledore suddenly suggested, "we could have Tver join the competition as an observer."
"An observer?" Karkaroff asked, frowning.
"That's right."
"Tver would still take part in the tournament and participate in the tasks alongside the other Champions."
"But we simply won't score him, or we'll give him the lowest possible marks. That way, the Goblet of Fire can hardly accuse us judges of being blind, can it?"
Dumbledore spoke with unmistakable enthusiasm.
"Like an exhibition match?" Madam Maxim immediately caught on.
"You could see it that way."
"No!" The objection came instantly from Karkaroff, who looked around at the surprised crowd with a display of righteous indignation.
"We are judges. How can we so casually abandon our professional integrity? As headmasters, how are we supposed to set an example for our students?!"
...
Everyone looked at him strangely.
In truth, Dumbledore's proposal was already the best possible solution.
The appeal of the Triwizard Tournament lay in watching the Champions display their intelligence, courage, and perseverance when faced with danger.
And once Tver stepped onto the field, the only ones facing any real danger would be the magical creatures in the tasks.
"Hmph. Karkaroff, don't think your little schemes have gone unnoticed," Moody sneered as he stepped forward, his magical eye locking onto him.
"What are you talking about?" Karkaroff asked, his gaze flickering.
"You, Karkaroff, a Death Eater who escaped judgment," Moody snapped, then sharply pointed at the tall, straight-backed figure beside him. "And he, Tver Fawley, a pure-blood from a noble family, your most prized student."
"A student who's been lurking at Hogwarts for over three years. What exactly was he here for?"
A savage grin spread across Moody's face as his magical eye suddenly swung toward Harry.
"Let me remind you. There's a boy here who's been targeted by the Dark Lord."
"Moody, are you saying someone wants to hurt Harry?" Professor McGonagall turned back sharply, her voice tense as she looked at him.
Even Snape and Dumbledore stepped forward instinctively, closing the distance.
"But Tver has no reason to do that. Over the past three years, he's saved Harry countless times!"
Harry: "..."
He really wanted to say that he hadn't been deliberately causing trouble just so a professor would come save him, but the words stuck in his throat.
"And who knows?" Moody said coldly. "Maybe someone wanted a safer way to get rid of Potter. For a fourth-year student, the Triwizard tasks are no different from murder."
"Alastor," Dumbledore said calmly, resting a hand on Moody's shoulder, "Tver comes from Durmstrang. That school has never shown much interest in Voldemort's ideology."
"But regardless, the situation is settled. Harry must take part in the tournament, and Tver will participate as a guest performer. Can you accept that?"
Tver shrugged indifferently.
As he had said before, the tournament's tasks and honors meant nothing to him. If not for the binding contract, he wouldn't even bother, aside from watching for entertainment.
To be honest, the Goblet of Fire's outrageous maneuver had caught him off guard.
That was why he had said so little earlier. He'd been observing Moody's expression.
Yet strangely enough, Moody had looked just as grim at the time.
Or was his acting simply too good?
No. Tver didn't think Barty had the ability to pull that off.
From what had just happened, it was clear that Barty was trying to force Harry into the tournament while ensuring he himself couldn't interfere directly.
Obviously, the current situation had also gone beyond his expectations. Tver's own entry had become an unexpected variable between him and Voldemort.
So there was no doubt about it. Harry's name had still been the one Barty had thrown into the Goblet.
But what about his own?
Tver couldn't help but think of the stronger Confundus Charm placed on the Goblet of Fire.
Unlike Barty's handiwork, the fifth slip of parchment Dumbledore had drawn didn't just bear his name. It also carried the name of Durmstrang.
Unlike Harry's slip, which held only a single name—because Barty Jr.'s Confundus Charm could only make the Goblet of Fire believe that Harry represented a fourth school—Tver's was different.
His slip included the school's name as well.
That meant the Confundus Charm was powerful enough to force the Goblet into making a clear and definite misjudgment—
Durmstrang was supposed to produce two Champions.
As Professor McGonagall had pointed out, only Tver and Dumbledore were capable of influencing the Goblet of Fire to that extent. Even Cynthia fell short of that level.
And neither he nor Dumbledore would ever bother doing something so pointless.
So who else could it be…?
"Where was the Goblet of Fire kept before?" Tver asked Cynthia quietly.
"The Goblet of Fire? It's been kept at the Ministry the whole time, hasn't it?" Cynthia's eyes flicked sideways as she thought quickly. "You think someone tampered with it while it was at the Ministry?"
"Not necessarily. Marvolio wouldn't pull a stunt like that, and he wouldn't have had the opportunity to slip your name into the Goblet anyway."
She continued analyzing the situation for Tver.
"As for everyone else, there aren't many who could do it. But one thing is certain—"
"One thing is certain," Tver cut in decisively, narrowing his eyes as his gaze swept across the room. "That person is at Hogwarts. At the very least, they were at Hogwarts when the Goblet ignited."
"Maybe even…" His eyes sharpened. "Right here in this room."
"Do you want me to start checking from the Ministry?" Cynthia asked.
She meant reviewing everyone who had come into contact with the Goblet and seeing how they might be connected to those present.
"No need." Tver shook his head lightly. "I don't sense any real malice here. If anything, I have a feeling that joining the tournament might not be a bad thing for me."
Cynthia was about to respond when Bagman suddenly spoke up.
"Miss Cynthia, it's time to brief the Champions on the competition rules. Or would you like me to do it?"
"No, I'll handle it." Cynthia adjusted her expression and led Tver back into the group.
Madam Maxim didn't look pleased, but she had reluctantly accepted Harry's status as a Champion.
After all, compared to Tver entering the tournament, Harry was little more than an afterthought.
"The first task is meant to test your courage, so you will not be given any clues about its content," Cynthia said, sweeping her gaze across the five Champions without lingering on Tver's faintly disgruntled expression.
"The task will take place on November twenty-fourth. You will complete it independently. No other students or professors are permitted to assist you."
"Of course, given the danger and difficulty of the tasks, Champions will be exempt from final exams."
"But regular quizzes are still mandatory," Tver added calmly.
"And about professors cutting down on lectures a bit—"
"No," Dumbledore replied with a smile.
"Wait, I wasn't finished—"
"I think I know exactly what you were about to say." The smile on Dumbledore's face widened slightly.
After all the unexpected chaos of the evening, this was the first moment he had truly relaxed.
"Miss Cynthia, Mr. Bagman, will you be staying at Hogwarts? I've had rooms prepared for you."
"No," Cynthia replied coolly, shaking her head. "I need to return to the Ministry."
"Then I've been looking forward to this for ages," Bagman said with a bright grin. "I've heard Hogwarts has quite a stash of excellent wine."
And just like that, everyone left the room in a light, easy mood, leaving behind Tver and Harry, their attempt at slacking off completely foiled, staring at each other in silence.