"To ensure that no under-age student yields to temptation, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line."
That had been last night. In the time between then and now, at least five students had been sent to the Hospital Wing after they had tried to trick the Age Line and ended up being flung out of the circle with beards nearly as long as Dumbledore's. Chatter had been going around the school all day about which of the older students were entering and which would be the likeliest to be chosen. Every House had at least one or two students that had entered publicly.
In Hufflepuff, everyone was rooting for Cedric to be chosen. When he had gotten over the distress all the Quidditch players were in, he had been amongst the first to submit his name for the Goblet. Once he had shown interest, Heri began hearing murmurs about several of the sixth- and seventh-years that were of age submitting Cedric's name in a show of solidarity. Truth be told, out of the older Hufflepuffs, Cedric really was the likeliest candidate; he was top of his class, quick with a spell in Defence, and was athletic to boot. If any Hufflepuff was going to be chosen, it was going to be Cedric Diggory.
Heri and her friends showed up early to secure seats directly at the end of the table nearest to the professors so they would be able to witness the selection directly. This proved to be the smart thing to do, as not long after they had sat down, more students came pouring in thirty to twenty minutes before dinner would officially start.
Through a combination of the meal being their second feast in two days and the excited buzz in the air, Heri didn't fancy the extravagantly prepared food as much as she would have normally. Like everyone else in the hall, she simply wanted the plates to clear, and to hear who had been selected as champions. Judging by the constantly craning necks, the impatient expressions on every face, the fidgeting, and the standing up to see whether the professors had finished eating yet, there was less patience going around than usual.
At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state; there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall, which died away almost instantly as Professor Dumbledore got to his feet. On either side of him, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone.
"Well, the Goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said the headmaster. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them to please come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" — he indicated the door behind the staff table — "where they will be receiving their first instructions."
He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it. At once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semi-darkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting . . .
The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it — the whole room gasped.
Professor Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white.
"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a clear, distinct voice, "will be Viktor Krum."
A storm of applause and cheering swept the Great Hall. Heri saw Krum rise from the Slytherin table and slouch up toward Dumbledore. He turned right, walked along the staff table, and disappeared through the door into the next chamber.
Again and again did the Goblet flare a burst of flame that carried its selection into the air to the cheer and despair of the audience. The third time Professor Dumbledore plucked a parchment from the flames, all of Hogwarts held their breath until —
"Cedric Diggory!"
If there were any protests from the other Houses, the uproar from the Hufflepuff table was too great to be heard over.
"CE-DRIC! CE-DRIC! CE-DRIC!" the chant was taken up amongst those that weren't lost in wordless exhilaration.
Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to his or her feet, screaming, and stamping, and generally making fools of themselves as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly, and headed off toward the chamber behind the teachers' table. Heri jumped and whooped with the best of them, exchanging hugs with everyone around her as they screamed, hollered, and banged on the table. Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Professor Dumbledore could make himself heard again.
"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real —"
Professor Dumbledore was cut off by a fizzling crackle from the Goblet.
Gasps and cries of shock rang out as a column of fire erupted from the Goblet and shot up into the rafters. The flames bled blue and white from the intensity of the heat. The tongue of fire swirled into itself and condensed into a writhing fireball as they gaped. Before anything could be it done, it stopped abruptly in its climb.
It then came hurtling back down.
Straight at the Hufflepuff table.
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