Witcher at Hogwarts

Read up to 40 chapters ahead on Patreon - patreon.com/Dark_sym

This fic is completed in patreon

-----

When Ethan stepped into the auditorium, he was greeted by the warm glow of hundreds of floating candles, their soft light illuminating the vast space.

The Goblet of Fire, which had been moved from its original position, now stood prominently in front of Dumbledore's empty chair at the staff table, flickering with an eerie blue-white flame.

The hall was packed, every seat taken, and the long tables were laden with an extravagant feast in celebration of Halloween.

This time, however, the usual Hogwarts delicacies were accompanied by an array of exotic dishes, catering to the foreign students who had arrived for the Triwizard Tournament.

Ethan settled into his seat, cradling a bowl of French bouillabaisse, savoring the rich aroma of seafood and herbs.

Yet, unlike previous feasts, the air was thick with anticipation. Few students seemed interested in their meals, their eyes fixed on the Goblet of Fire.

Restless murmurs spread across the hall as they awaited the moment that would decide the tournament's champions.

Finally, as the golden plates cleared themselves, the tension in the room became almost tangible.

Conversations swelled to an excited hum—only to be cut short when Dumbledore rose from his seat.

The auditorium fell into immediate silence.

On either side of him, Headmaster Karkaroff and Madame Maxime sat, their faces tight with expectation.

Ludo Bagman, ever the showman, grinned and winked at students across the hall.

Meanwhile, Delix sat hunched over the table, lost in his own thoughts, seemingly unaffected by the excitement around him.

"Alright," Dumbledore announced, his voice calm yet commanding,

"The Goblet of Fire is about to make its decision. I expect it will only take a moment."

A hush fell over the room.

"When the champions' names are announced, I want them to make their way to the top of the hall, walk past the staff table, and enter the chamber through that door," he continued, gesturing toward a doorway behind the professors.

"There, they will receive their initial instructions."

With a flick of his wand, Dumbledore extinguished all the floating candles, leaving only the flickering light inside the carved jack-o'-lanterns.

The auditorium was plunged into a dim, almost eerie darkness.

Now, the Goblet of Fire burned brighter than anything else in the room, its ethereal flames casting ghostly blue-white sparks into the air.

The tension was palpable—students leaned forward in their seats, their eyes locked onto the goblet.

A few checked their watches, their fingers drumming nervously on the table.

Suddenly, the flames roared red, sending a cascade of sparks into the air.

A moment later, a small piece of parchment, charred at the edges, shot out from the goblet's mouth.

The entire hall seemed to hold its breath.

Dumbledore caught the parchment midair, stepping closer to the goblet's glow to read the name scrawled upon it.

The silence in the hall was so intense that it felt as though time itself had paused.

"Durmstrang's champion," Dumbledore announced, his voice ringing through the hushed auditorium, "is Viktor Krum."

The hall erupted in cheers and applause.

It was no surprise—many had hoped Durmstrang's star Seeker would be chosen, and his selection felt almost inevitable.

Krum stood, his expression unreadable, though his squared shoulders and steady gait betrayed his confidence.

He made his way toward the chamber, following the designated path with quiet composure.

As the applause died down, all eyes turned back to the goblet. The flames, which had returned to their usual blue-white hue, flickered ominously.

Seconds later, they flared red once more.

The next name was about to be revealed.

The second parchment shot out of the Goblet of Fire, propelled by its blue-white flames.

"The champion of Beauxbatons," Dumbledore announced, his voice carrying through the Great Hall, "is Fleur Delacour!"

The applause was notably more subdued compared to the thunderous cheers that had greeted Viktor Krum's selection.

Some Beauxbatons students—mostly girls—burst into tears, disappointment evident on their faces.

Only Fleur's younger sister, Gabrielle, clapped excitedly, beaming with pride as she cheered for her sister.

Fleur rose gracefully, tossing her silver hair over one shoulder, and walked lightly between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.

As she passed, she nodded slightly at Ethan, drawing the sharp, questioning eyes of Professor McGonagall, Professor Slughorn, and Professor Snape.

Whispers had been circulating lately—rumors that Ethan was a notorious playboy, constantly surrounded by young, beautiful witches.

None of the professors had time to investigate the matter at this moment, though.

The air in the Great Hall was thick with excitement as the students eagerly awaited the selection of the Hogwarts champion.

Then, once again, the Goblet flared red. Sparks showered from its depths as flames licked high into the air.

Dumbledore reached out and plucked a third parchment from the fire.

"The Hogwarts champion," he declared, "is Cedric Diggory!"

A deafening roar erupted from the Hufflepuff table.

Their cheers nearly rattled the enchanted ceiling as students jumped from their seats, stomping and screaming in delight.

Hufflepuff, often overlooked, was finally in the spotlight, and they reveled in it.

Cedric walked past the cheering crowd, his smile bright, as he made his way toward the chamber behind the staff table.

The applause lingered far longer than it had for the other champions, and Dumbledore had to raise his hand to quiet the crowd.

Ethan exhaled slowly. It was done. He had tied up all loose ends—there should be no surprises.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore said, smiling.

"Now, our three champions have been chosen. I know I can count on all of you—including our guests from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang—to support your champions wholeheartedly. By cheering them on, you contribute to the Triwizard Tournament in your own way—"

The Goblet flared again.

Gasps rippled through the hall. The flames turned deep crimson, crackling with unnatural energy.

Dumbledore whirled around, his piercing blue eyes locked onto the Goblet.

Ethan shot to his feet, his entire body tensing. This wasn't supposed to happen. He had ensured it wouldn't.

The Death Eaters outside—every last one of them—had been dealt with. So why was the Goblet reacting again?

A long tongue of fire leaped into the air, bearing yet another parchment.

Dumbledore hesitated for only a second before reaching out with his long, slender fingers and catching it.

He held it aloft, his expression unreadable.

Silence blanketed the Great Hall. Hundreds of students held their breath, their eyes darting between the Goblet, Dumbledore, and each other.

Ethan's gaze bore into the parchment as though he could burn a hole through it by sheer will alone.

For the first time, he saw something unexpected—Dumbledore looked… stunned. Only for a moment, but it was there.

A flicker of hesitation.

Then, the headmaster schooled his expression, cleared his throat, and in a voice that carried over the silent hall, read the name aloud:

"Neville Longbottom."

The hush that followed was deafening.

Students exchanged bewildered glances.

Murmurs spread like wildfire. This wasn't supposed to happen.

The visiting students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang didn't grasp the full weight of the situation, but from the reactions of the Hogwarts students, they knew one thing for certain—something had gone terribly wrong.