WARNING. THIS STORY IS NOT THE ORIGINAL HARRY POTTER BY J. K. Rowling.
The great hall pulsed with anticipation. Golden candlelight flickered overhead, dancing off enchanted stars and casting long shadows over the rows of students huddled around the Goblet of Fire.
It sat in the front of the room like an unassuming stone chalice, its blue flames licking the air with impatient heat. Wispers spread like wildfire, who would be next?
Harry Potter wasn't supposed to be nervous. He wasn't of age. He hadn't even put his name in. But at the room held it's breath and Dumbledore forward with his usual calm authority, Harry's stomach twisted uncomfortably.
The Goblet spit out another name. Fleur Delacour. Thunderous applause. The Beauxbaton girls screamed in delight , and Fleur glided forward like she belonged on a magazine cover.
Then Viktor Krum. A roar of support rose from the durmstrang boys, and Harry clapped politely , though his palms were slick.
Last...Cedric Diggory. The Hufflepuffs practicly burst into tears of pride. Cheers died down, the flame flickered. Done.
Until.
Crack.
The blue fire flaired a brilliant white, gasps echoed off the stone. One final scrap of parchment flew into the air. Silence fell like a dropped veil as Dumbledore caught the paper and read, his voice laced with disbelief, "Harry Potter."
Every head turned. Harry froze, the blood draining from his face. He didn't move. "You must go, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said gently. With his heart in his throat, Harry stood. He stumbled toward the front of the room. The room of murmers trailing behind him.
At the slytherin table, Draco Malfoy watched with his usual sneer, but something flickered in his eyes...curiosity. He leaned toward pansy, whispering something under his breath. She laughed lightly and then turned her gazed toward Harry with a tilt of her head, amused and calculating.
"I told you," Draco mutmerd, lips barley moving. "He always has to be the center of everything"
"But it's not just that is it?" Pansy replied her voice low almost to soft to hear, "you're just obsessed Draco." He didn't answer.
The antechamber was quiet. Cedric gave Harry a bewildered look but said nothing. The room spun slightly, Harry sat on the nearest bench, burying his face into his hand.
Behind him, unnoticed who silhouettes appeared at the entrance of the chaimber. Pansy's giggled was stiffled against her palm as she leaned into Dacos shoulder.
"You know," she whispered, barley loud enough for Harry to register it, "I think Draco likes him."
Harry's head lifted, and brows furrowed
Draco smirked
The seed was planted