Argus Filch carefully walked in through the side door of the Great Hall, holding a jewel-encrusted wooden box.
Dumbledore took a rough, wooden goblet out of the box.
The cup itself was unremarkable, with signs of wear along the rim.
But when Dumbledore raised it, blue-white flames suddenly shot up from the cup, standing out clearly in the dim Great Hall.
"This is the Goblet of Fire," Dumbledore said.
"Any student wishing to enter the Triwizard Tournament must write their name on a piece of parchment and drop it into this cup."
He placed the Goblet of Fire on a pedestal in the center of the Great Hall. The blue-white flames flickered, reflecting light onto the surrounding floor.
"The Triwizard Tournament consists of three tasks." Dumbledore's voice became serious.
"These three tasks will take place successively throughout the school year. They will test the champions' abilities from different angles—magical talent, daring, powers of deduction, and the ability to cope with danger."
The Great Hall was silent, everyone holding their breath to listen.
"Each contestant has twenty-four hours to enter their name. Tomorrow night, during the Halloween feast, the Goblet of Fire will select the champions it deems most worthy to represent the three schools."
Dumbledore paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping over every student present.
"To prevent underage Wizards from being tempted, I will draw an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire. No one under the age of seventeen will be able to cross it."
Fred and George exchanged a look and raised their hands to ask a question.
"If we manage to fool the Age Line, can we still enter?"
"If someone can bypass the Age Line, and the Goblet of Fire judges them to be a true champion, then they may certainly enter."
Hearing this, Charlie was completely relieved—it was settled!
"I know some of you will try to find ways to cheat the Age Line." Dumbledore's tone carried a warning.
"But I must remind everyone present."
"The Triwizard Tournament is not a game. Champions have historically died during the competition. These tasks are designed to test your limits, perhaps even beyond your capabilities."
The atmosphere in the Great Hall became heavy.
"Once your name is chosen from the Goblet of Fire, you enter into a binding magical contract with it. No one can back out. Once you become a champion, you must see the competition through to the end. Therefore, before dropping your name into the Goblet of Fire, please ensure you are absolutely ready."
Dumbledore scanned the entire Great Hall, ensuring everyone had heard his words clearly.
"Now, it's getting late." His tone became relaxed again.
"I suggest you all go back and get some rest. Good night, everyone."
The feast ended, and the students rose to leave the Great Hall.
Fred and George pushed through the crowd and quickly walked over to Charlie.
"Charlie, we've got something good." Fred mysteriously pulled a small vial containing orange liquid from his pocket.
"Ageing Potion," George whispered.
"Just one drop is enough to make us look a year older."
"Want some? We can spare a few drops for you." Fred shook the vial.
Charlie glanced at the vial and shook his head.
"No need."
He had a better way.
"Are you sure?" George was surprised.
"Don't tell me you don't want to enter."
"I have my own method."
Just then, Hermione walked over, watching The Twins with her arms crossed.
"It'll be hard for you to become champions even if you sign up."
The air suddenly went silent for a second.
Lies don't hurt, but the truth is a sharp knife.
George's face flushed, and he retorted stiffly.
"Just you wait and see!"
"We have a reason why we absolutely must win!" Fred refused to be outdone.
"What reason?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"One thousand Galleons!" The Twins said in unison.
"That's the startup money for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes!" George clenched his fist, his eyes shining.
"We've already planned it out. As soon as we get the prize money, we can rent a shop in Diagon Alley."
"You'll see then! We'll become the best magical prank merchants!" Fred added.
"Good luck to you both."
Seeing their high spirits, Hermione couldn't bear to discourage them further.
Harry listened silently nearby, a scene involuntarily appearing in his mind: he was standing in the center of the Great Hall, holding the Triwizard Cup, with everyone cheering for him.
How glorious would that be? What would Cho think of him?
But the thought only circled his mind once before he suppressed it.
He knew his own limitations clearly.
Just then, a commotion arose at the Great Hall entrance.
Charlie turned his head to look. Karkaroff was standing at the entrance, his expression grim.
His gaze was fixed on Moody nearby, a flash of resentment in his eyes, but mostly fear.
Moody stood there, his Magical Eye locked immovably on Karkaroff, his expression cold as ice.
"What do you want?"
Karkaroff's voice was strained and very low.
The surrounding students stopped, not because they loved a spectacle, but mainly because Karkaroff was blocking the door.
The Durmstrang students also noticed their Principal acting strangely and stopped to look at him.
Moody spoke grimly.
"Don't block the path, you're clogging the doorway."
Karkaroff's Adam's apple bobbed, and he said nothing more.
He turned and quickly left, and the Durmstrang students hurried to follow.
But Moody didn't move. He stood rooted to the spot, his Magical Eye constantly tracking Karkaroff's retreating figure.
His expression was full of revulsion, as if he were looking at something filthy.
Charlie watched the scene and muttered, "These two have bad blood."
Harry also noticed, frowning.
"Professor Moody seems to really hate him."
"More than hate," Hermione whispered.
"Look at Professor Moody's eyes—it's like he wants to nail him to the wall."
Ron nodded in agreement.
"Karkaroff looks really scared of him too."
Ernie leaned in from the side and said in a low voice.
"Why wouldn't he be scared? My aunt's child's godfather's neighbor's dog's new owner told me that Karkaroff used to be a Death Eater."
"A Death Eater?" Ron's eyes widened.
"Shh—" Ernie looked around and continued to whisper.
"After You-Know-Who fell, he claimed he was under the Imperio curse and thus escaped punishment. But Professor Moody was an Auror back then, specializing in capturing Death Eaters."
Charlie looked thoughtfully in the direction Karkaroff had disappeared. No wonder that guy looked like a mouse seeing a cat when he saw Moody.
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