Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire Page #2

...we have the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation...

...Mr. Bartemius Crouch.

Bloody hell. It's Mad-Eye Moody.

Alastor Moody? The Auror? Auror?

Dark-wizard catcher. Half the cells in Azkaban are filled thanks to him.

He's supposed to be mad as a hatter, though, these days.

My dear old friend, thanks for coming. Stupid ceiling.

Thank you.

What's that he's drinking, do you suppose?

I don't know, but I don't think it's pumpkin juice.

After due consideration...

...the Ministry has concluded that, for their own safety...

...no student under the age of 17...

...shall be allowed to put forth their name for the Triwizard Tournament.

This decision is final. That's rubbish!

That's rubbish! You don't know what you're doing!

Silence! They're not too happy about that, then.

The Goblet of Fire.

Anyone wishing to submit themselves to the tournament...

...need only write their name upon a piece of parchment...

...and throw it in the flame before this hour on Thursday night.

Do not do so lightly.

If chosen, there's no turning back.

As from this moment, the Triwizard Tournament has begun.

Alastor Moody.

Ex-Auror...

...Ministry malcontent...

...and your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

I am here because Dumbledore asked me. End of story, goodbye, the end.

Any questions?

When it comes to the Dark Arts...

...I believe in a practical approach.

But first, which of you can tell me how many Unforgivable Curses there are?

Three, sir. And they are so named?

Because they are unforgivable. The use of any one of them will...

Will earn you a one-way ticket to Azkaban, correct.

The Ministry says you're too young to see what these curses do.

I say different! You need to know what you're up against!

You need to be prepared.

You need to find another place to put your chewing gum...

...besides the underside of your desk, Mr. Finnigan!

No way. The old codger can see out the back of his head.

And hear across classrooms!

So which curse shall we see first?

Weasley! Yes?

Stand.

Give us a curse.

Well, my dad did tell me about one.

The lmperius Curse.

Oh, yeah, your father would know all about that.

Gave the Ministry quite a bit of grief a few years ago.

Perhaps this will show you why.

Hello.

Lovely little beauty.

Engorgio.

Imperio!

Don't worry. It's completely harmless.

If she bites...

...she's lethal.

What are you laughing at?

Get off!

Talented, isn't she?

What should I have her do next? Jump out the window?

Drown herself?

Scores of witches and wizards have claimed...

...that they only did You-Know-Who's bidding...

...under the influence of the lmperius Curse.

But here's the rub:

How do we sort out the liars?

Another, another.

Up, up. Come on.

Longbottom, is it?

Up.

Professor Sprout tells me you have an aptitude for herbology.

There's the...

The Cruciatus Curse.

Correct, correct. Come, come.

Particularly nasty.

The torture curse.

Crucio!

Stop it! Can't you see it's bothering him? Stop it!

Perhaps you could give us the last Unforgivable Curse, Miss Granger.

No?

Avada Kedavra!

The Killing Curse.

Only one person is known to have survived it...

...and he's sitting in this room.

Brilliant, isn't he?

Completely demented, of course, and terrifying to be in the same room with...

...but he's really been there, you know? He's looked evil in the eye.

There's a reason those curses are unforgivable.

To perform them in a classroom... I mean, did you see Neville's face?

Neville?

Son?

You all right?

Come on. We'll have a cup of tea. I want to show you something.

We're gonna be late!

Come on, Cedric. Put it in!

Eternal glory. Be brilliant, wouldn't it?

Three years from now, when we're old enough to be chosen.

Yeah, rather you than me.

Yes!

Thank you, thank you.

Well, lads, we've done it. Cooked it up just this morning.

It's not going to work.

Oh, yeah? And why is that, Granger?

You see this? This is an Age Line.

Dumbledore drew it himself.

So?

So a genius like Dumbledore couldn't possibly be fooled...

...by a dodge as pathetically dimwitted as an Aging Potion.

But that's why it's so brilliant. Because it's so pathetically dimwitted.

Ready, Fred? Ready, George.

Bottoms up. Bottoms up.

Yes! Yes!

Yeah!

Yes!

Ready?

Yes! Yes!

You said! You said!

Oh, right, you want a piece of me?! I'll tear your ears off!

Now you're making me laugh. Take this! Come on!

Fight! Fight! Fight!

We're "old school," right?

Yeah, but you look older!

Sit down. Please.

Now the moment you've all been waiting for:

The champion selection.

The Durmstrang champion is Viktor Krum.

The champion for Beauxbatons...

...is Fleur Delacour.

The Hogwarts champion, Cedric Diggory!

Excellent! We now have our three champions.

But in the end, only one will go down in history.

Only one will hoist this chalice of champions...

...this vessel of victory...

...the Triwizard Cup!

Harry Potter.

Harry Potter?

No. No.

Harry Potter!

Go on, Harry.

Harry, for goodness sake.

He's a cheat!

He's not even 17 yet!

It's wrong, I tell you! You French tart.

Everything is a conspiracy theory! Quiet! I can't think!

Everything is a conspiracy theory! I protest.

Harry. I protest!

Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?

No, sir. Did you ask one of the older students...

...to do it for you? No, sir.

You're absolutely sure? Yes. Yes, sir.

But of course he is lying. The hell he is!

The Goblet of Fire is an exceptionally powerful magical object.

Only an exceptionally powerful Confundus Charm could've hoodwinked it.

Magic way beyond the talents of a fourth year.

You seem to have given this a fair bit of thought, Mad-Eye.

It was once my job to think as dark wizards do, Karkaroff...

...perhaps you remember. This doesn't help, Alastor.

Leave this to you, Barty.

The rules are absolute.

The Goblet of Fire constitutes a binding magical contract.

Mr. Potter has no choice.

He is, as of tonight...

...a Triwizard champion.

This can't go on, Albus.

First the Dark Mark. Now this?

What do you suggest, Minerva?

Put an end to it.

Don't let Potter compete.

You heard Barty. The rules are clear.

Well, the devil with Barty and his rules.

And since when did you accommodate the Ministry?

Headmaster, I, too, find it difficult to believe this mere coincidence.

However, if we are to truly discover the meaning of these events...

...perhaps we should, for the time being...

...let them unfold.

What...? Do nothing?

Offer him up as bait?

Potter is a boy, not a piece of meat.

I agree. With Severus.

Alastor, keep an eye on Harry, will you?

I can do that. Don't let him know, though.

He must be anxious enough as it is...

...knowing what lies ahead.

Then again, we all are.

How did you do it?

Never mind. Doesn't matter.

Might've let your best friend know, though.

Let you know what? You know bloody well what.

I didn't ask for this to happen, Ron.

Okay?

You're being stupid. Yeah, that's me.

Ron Weasley, Harry Potter's stupid friend.

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