Once chosen by the Goblet of Fire, bound by magic, the chosen one must compete. This is why, in the original story, Harry had no choice but to jump into the trap, even knowing it was one.
Ethan murmured, pondering, "I always feel like the Goblet of Fire is very similar to a 'sacrifice'… first, a solemn selection by ancestors, then a series of trials to pick out the strongest offering." "Perhaps, that's how it was in ancient times."
Ethan snapped his fingers. He burned the letter. He checked the clock. It was almost the appointed time on the letter. He then stood up, putting on his shiny Prefect badge. He swaggered out of the dormitory. No apologies needed. Having Prefect privileges meant he could be this willful.
"I'm also very curious… what method Barty will use to get me eliminated by the competition I set up."
Late at night, all was silent. "Creak." A door quietly opened. After opening just enough for one person to pass, it quickly closed again. No one noticed.
Barty, disguised as Mad-Eye, breathed a sigh of relief. Invisible under a Disillusionment Charm, he cautiously raised his head. He saw the golden cup burning with an ethereal blue flame. He also saw the figure standing next to the Goblet of Fire. That pure white mask, he probably wouldn't forget it for the rest of his life. —Mr. Lamp?!
Barty's eyes widened in astonishment. He hadn't expected Mr. Lamp to come in person tonight. The letter he sent out was only meant to inform him of the next step and facilitate discussion of future plans. Yet Mr. Lamp had directly passed through Hogwarts' layers of defenses and infiltrated the Castle! Coming and going as he pleased, it was as if he lived here!
Barty felt a chill in his heart, only feeling that Mr. Lamp's power was becoming increasingly unfathomable.
Just then, a low, elegant voice resounded in the empty classroom: "Mr. Crouch, what are you still waiting for?"
Barty started, quickly dispelling his Disillusionment Charm. He respectfully stepped forward and said, "My apologies. I was just too surprised to see you."
Sure enough, a mere Disillusionment Charm couldn't fool Mr. Lamp. This keen sight reminded Barty of Mad-Eye's magical eye. However, at this moment, that "magical eye" was still perfectly intact on his face.
"Begin."
Mr. Lamp—Ethan nodded, playing the part perfectly.
"Yes."
Barty responded. He immediately raised his ever-present wand and recited a complex incantation. As the spell took effect, Barty's aura changed. It became muddled and indistinct, making one feel dizzy when looking at him. This was especially true for Ethan, who had acute senses. —Cognition was altered.
Ethan raised an eyebrow slightly. It was like seeing a "boy" enter the girls' lavatory without feeling there was anything wrong. This was a powerful Confundo, strong enough to bypass Dumbledore's protections. Interesting—
Ethan's eyes rolled, and he had an idea.
"Whoosh." The ethereal blue flame devoured the slip of paper, flickered a few times, and then continued to burn as usual.
Seeing that nothing had happened, Barty relaxed. It worked! His eyes lit up, and he grinned triumphantly. Now, Ethan would definitely be chosen and forced to compete! If he wasn't selected by the Goblet of Fire? Then he'd eat snow while standing on his head.
Just as Barty was thinking his grand plan was complete, Mr. Lamp's voice rang out: "Write down the Confundo you just used for me."
Barty looked up, meeting the pure white mask with only a pair of black eyeholes. His heart trembled, and he said with difficulty, "This—"
That powerful Confundo was taught to him by the Dark Lord. Otherwise, it would have been impossible to bypass Dumbledore's magic. It was precious and dangerous. He didn't want to hand it over—
Ethan: "What? You're unwilling?" A hint of chill stained his tone.
"—No, no, how could I be?"
Barty gritted his teeth, raised his wand, and wrote the incantation in the air, word by word. It didn't matter—it was just the incantation. Without the corresponding model to assist, it would be absolutely impossible to comprehend it out of thin air.
[You have learned the magic: Powerful Confundo · Cognitive Impairment]
Behind the mask, Ethan curled his lips. With his proficient Erudition skill, he could deduce the underlying magic model just by looking at the incantation. Not to mention, Barty had just recited it aloud. This powerful Confundo was already deeply imprinted in his mind! Perhaps it could come in handy at the last moment—
Ethan pondered inwardly. He nodded and said, "That's enough."
—Yes.
Barty lowered his wand with lingering doubts. He had a vague sense of unease but couldn't pinpoint its source. Finally, he could only attribute it to Mr. Lamp himself being inherently sinister.
—Speaking of which. In terms of sinister nature, Ethan and Mr. Lamp bore some resemblance. Ethan, Mr. Lamp himself: "How do you plan to eliminate Ethan in the competition? You know he's the organizer of the competition, right?"
Upon hearing this, Barty cast aside his distracting thoughts and smiled sinisterly and smugly: "Regarding that, I have a plan—"
On Champion Announcement Day. In the Great Hall, students from the three schools were crowded together. Their gazes intently fixed on the Goblet of Fire at the very front. Because the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students had all chosen to sit at the Ravenclaw table, only this side was packed. In contrast, the other three tables seemed somewhat desolate.
Headmaster Dumbledore: "First, I welcome the delegations from our two schools to Hogwarts. I also welcome the two Ministry of Magic department heads, Mr. Ludo Bagman and Mr. Barty Crouch, to our school to serve as judges."
Below the stage, Michael whispered: "That official named 'Crouch' doesn't look too good."
Ethan turned to look. Indeed, he looked as if he had been drained of all vitality by a Veela. His face was pale gray, his cheeks sunken, and his eyes had dark circles. His entire being exuded an anxious and restless aura.
Ethan knew. This was because his son, a Death Eater, was missing. In other words, it was like throwing out a ticking time bomb, not knowing when it would explode and kill someone. And in such an emergency, he still dared to conceal it and not report it. In the end, he paid the price with his own life and indirectly caused Cedric's death.
Ethan shook his head: "Everyone at the Ministry of Magic must be crazy."
Michael looked at him in surprise. Then he saw Ethan suddenly flash a brilliant smile: "Fortunately, all the members of my Beacon Society are perfectly normal, kind-hearted people."
Afterwards, they would just replace the Ministry of Magic.
Sensing Ethan's unspoken meaning, Michael shivered violently. He turned his head and said nothing more. One could only say, as expected of Ravenclaw!
Headmaster Dumbledore: "Now, let's announce the champions chosen by the Goblet of Fire!"
Immediately, the students' spirits lifted. They stared intently at the burning golden cup, their hearts filled with excitement.
"Whoosh!" Ethereal blue flames rose, spitting out slip after slip of paper. —Durmstrang's Champion—Viktor Krum!
"Woohoo!" Rough shouts and enthusiastic applause erupted. Krum's bear-like sturdy physique rose, and he powerfully waved his fist.
"Show them what you've got." Headmaster Karkaroff patted his shoulder, not even looking at his other selected students.
—Beauxbatons Academy's Champion is—Fleur Delacour!
"Oh!" Fleur covered her mouth in surprise. Her emerald eyes suddenly sparkled. She seemed to be sucking away the souls of the surrounding boys. She stood up gracefully and haughtily tilted her chin towards Ethan.
After reading out Beauxbatons' six champions, it was finally Hogwarts' turn. —Hogwarts' Champion is—Cedric Diggory!
A moment of stillness. Then, the Great Hall erupted in thunderous cheers!
"Cedric! He's a Hufflepuff student!" "He's Hufflepuff's hero!"
Cedric stood up, his face flushed. His handsome face was full of high spirits. Watch me, Father! I will definitely make you proud!
"And, Harry Potter, George Weasley, Fred Weasley, Luna Lovegood—and Neville Longbottom!"
Dumbledore finished reading and looked up. He met a sea of stunned gazes. —Who? Luna Lovegood, only in her third year, and Neville Longbottom, who couldn't do anything? Is this, is this reasonable??
"Ugh!" Hermione slammed her fist on the table. Her cheeks instantly flushed crimson, and tears welled up in her eyes. She never thought that Luna would be selected, but she wasn't! Clearly, she knew much more than Luna!
Amidst the swirling vortex, Luna showed no emotional fluctuations. She merely curved her eyes, sweetly smiling, "That's great, Ethan, I've been selected~"
"I never doubted it." Ethan said gently, ruffling Luna's head.
As for Neville Longbottom, he looked as if the slip of paper wasn't his own, completely stunned in place. It wasn't until Dumbledore kindly reminded everyone to applaud the champions that they all seemed to awaken from a dream, and a somewhat enthusiastic applause broke out.
"Hmph," Headmaster Karkaroff scoffed contemptuously, "Hogwarts chose such riff-raff. It seems we're guaranteed to win this year."
Dumbledore: "So, six champions from each school, a total of eighteen champions, have been selected. Those who were not chosen should not be disheartened; this does not negate your abilities."
Dumbledore winked at a crestfallen Hermione.
"Each school can freely assign players for the three tasks."
Before his words finished, the Goblet of Fire behind him let out a sputtering sound. Again, it spat out a slip of paper. —
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. Under everyone's gaze, he reached out and took the charred slip of paper. He slowly read aloud: —Ethan Vincent.
The Great Hall was silent.
Karkaroff spat out a mouthful of tea, his eyes wide with fury, almost choking himself to death! Who? Who did you say was selected?!
"Didn't the selection end? Why is there an extra name?"
Mr. Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, looked around blankly.
Mr. Crouch said in a deep voice, "And it's Ethan Vincent, who shouldn't be competing." He leaned forward, clenching his fingers. A very ominous premonition surged within him. —Ethan Vincent!
Headmaster Dumbledore looked up, raising his voice. He looked at the figure slowly rising from the Ravenclaw long table. He calmly asked, "Mr. Vincent, did you put this slip of paper in?"
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