Harry Potter 04 - Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the Tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the Goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are whole-heartedly prepared to play, before you drop your name into the Goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Goodnight to you all.’
    ‘An Age Line!’ Fred Weasley said, his eyes glinting, as they all made their way across the Hall to the doors into the Entrance Hall. ‘Well, that should be fooled by an Ageing Potion, shouldn’t it? And once your name’s in that Goblet, you’re laughing – it can’t tell whether you’re seventeen or not!’
    ‘But I don’t think anyone under seventeen will stand a chance,’ said Hermione, ‘we just haven’t learnt enough …’
    ‘Speak for yourself,’ said George shortly. ‘You’ll try and get in, won’t you, Harry?’
    Harry thought briefly of Dumbledore’s insistence that nobody under seventeen should submit their name, but then the wonderful picture of himself winning the Triwizard Cup filled his mind again … he wondered how angry Dumbledore would be if someone younger than seventeen did find a way to get over the Age Line …
    ‘Where is he?’ said Ron, who wasn’t listening to a word of this conversation, but looking through the crowd to see what had become of Krum. ‘Dumbledore didn’t say where the Durmstrang people are sleeping, did he?’
    But this query was answered almost instantly; they were level with the Slytherin table now, and Karkaroff had just bustled up to his students.
    ‘Back to the ship, then,’ he was saying. ‘Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?’
    Harry saw Krum shake his head as he pulled his furs back on.
    ‘Professor, I vood like some vine,’ said one of the other Durmstrang boys hopefully.
    ‘I wasn’t offering it to you, Poliakoff,’ snapped Karkaroff, his warmly paternal air vanishing in an instant. ‘I notice you have dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting boy –’
    Karkaroff turned and led his students towards the doors, reaching them at exactly the same moment as Harry, Ron and Hermione. Harry stopped to let him walk through first.
    ‘Thank you,’ said Karkaroff carelessly, glancing at him.
    And then Karkaroff froze. He turned his head back to Harry, and stared at him as though he couldn’t believe his eyes. Behind their Headmaster, the students from Durmstrang came to a halt, too. Karkaroff’s eyes moved slowly up Harry’s face, and fixed upon his scar. The Durmstrang students were staring curiously at Harry, too. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw comprehension dawn on a few of their faces. The boy with food all down his front nudged the girl next to him and pointed openly at Harry’s forehead.
    ‘Yeah, that’s Harry Potter,’ said a growling voice from behind them.
    Professor Karkaroff spun around. Mad-Eye Moody was standing there, leaning heavily on his staff, his magical eye glaring unblinkingly at the Durmstrang Headmaster.
    The colour drained from Karkaroff’s face as Harry watched. A terrible look of mingled fury and fear came over his face.
    ‘You!’ he said, staring at Moody as though unsure he was really seeing him.
    ‘Me,’ said Moody grimly. ‘And unless you’ve got anything to say to Potter, Karkaroff, you might want to move. You’re blocking the doorway.’
    It was true; half the students in the Hall were now waiting behind them, looking over each other’s shoulders to see what was causing the hold-up.
    Without another word, Professor Karkaroff swept his students away with him. Moody watched him out of sight, his magical eye fixed upon his back, a look of intense dislike upon his mutilated face.
    *
    As the next day was Saturday, most students would normally have breakfasted late. Harry, Ron and Hermione, however, were not alone in rising much earlier than they usually did at weekends. When they went down into the Entrance Hall, they saw about twenty people milling around it, some of them eating toast, all examining the Goblet of Fire. It had been placed in the centre of the hall on the stool that normally bore the Sorting Hat. A thin golden line had been traced on the floor, forming a circle ten feet around it in every direction.
    ‘Anyone put their name in yet?’ Ron