Chapter 129: The Hogwarts Champion
“Sorry, Jon… I lost my temper just now...” After parting ways with the trio, Astoria lowered her head and apologized.
She had just had a heated argument with Hermione Granger. If the three boys hadn’t stepped in, the two of them might have actually come to blows.
“It’s nothing!” Jon reassured her. “People will always have different opinions... we just need to agree to disagree!”
“I’m sorry...” Astoria pretended to focus on a Bowtruckle, her voice low and dejected.
Jon fed the Bowtruckle some woodlice while thinking back on Hermione’s words. Honestly, her ideas sounded rather idealistic—though perhaps also admirable in their own way.
It was true that house-elves lived under rules very different from those of wizards, bound by traditions that seemed strange and sometimes unfair. But believing that setting up a society or committee could instantly change their way of life felt unrealistic. Some things weren’t as simple as organizing a meeting or signing a petition...
So how could house-elves really find a better place in the wizarding world? For Jon, who had always been observant, the answer was still uncertain.
First, it would take time, patience, and guidance from wizards who genuinely cared, giving the elves encouragement and understanding.
Then, they would need opportunities to take part in life at Hogwarts or beyond, slowly building trust and recognition. Only then might they approach something close to equal treatment, even if it remained a distant goal.
Relying on fairness alone wouldn’t be enough, yet kindness and cooperation were a start.
But Jon had been reborn as a wizard, not a house-elf. Inevitably, his perspective leaned toward the wizarding side. So he couldn’t act directly on their behalf, nor pretend to decide their future.
Still, house-elves were worth respecting. Compared to the pure-blood wizards who had already chosen—or were about to choose—Voldemort’s side, they were far more dependable companions.
...
They spent over an hour in the Forbidden Forest, feeding countless Bowtruckles.
By the time they left, the forest was filled with song.
Astoria seemed out of sorts, and once they re-entered the castle, the two went their separate ways.
Jon lingered in the Room of Requirement for a few hours before hurrying to Severus Snape’s office as dusk fell.
Professor Snape had already changed into a fresh black robe. He gave Jon a cold look.
“In just a few minutes, the Halloween feast will begin!”
“I know, Professor!” Jon nodded. “That’s why I ate a little beforehand... after all, I’m serving detention, right?”
“As you wish!” Snape swept out of the office, then paused at the door. “Don’t let anyone sneak in here and steal my things!”
“Understood!” Jon replied, watching him close the door.
He truly had no interest in what would unfold at the Halloween feast... after all, he could recite the names of the four Triwizard champions by heart.
Being left alone in Snape’s office was far more tempting... he could sneak a look at Snape’s herbs and prepared potions. With a little luck, he might even learn a thing or two.
But first, tonight’s task had to be finished...
Jon turned his gaze toward several large vats in the room.
Indian black eels were massive, measuring between one and two meters. Herbivorous and mild-tempered, their filtered blood made a highly versatile potion ingredient.
There was no doubt—the night’s workload was going to be heavy.
...
The Halloween feast felt far longer than usual.
Perhaps it was because they had already feasted for two days straight, but many students seemed less excited about the elaborate dishes than normal.
All around the Great Hall, students craned their necks toward the staff table, impatience written on every face. Restless, they fidgeted in their seats, some even standing to get a better view.
At last, the feast ended, and the noise in the hall swelled.
Then Dumbledore rose, and silence fell once more.
On either side of him, Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked just as tense and expectant as the students; Ludo Bagman grinned broadly, winking at each school’s students; while Mr. Crouch appeared thoroughly uninterested.
“I am honored to announce that the Goblet of Fire is about to make its decision!” Dumbledore said with a smile.
With a wave of his hand, most of the candles in the Great Hall went out, leaving the chamber in shadow.
The Goblet of Fire, now placed upon the dais, blazed more brilliantly than anything else in the hall. Its blue-white flames flared and crackled, sparks flying, utterly mesmerizing.
Almost every eye was fixed on Dumbledore.
Suddenly, the flames turned red, spitting sparks with a sharp crackle.
A tongue of fire shot into the air, and from it flew a nearly charred piece of parchment.
Dumbledore caught it. The flames subsided back into their blue-white glow.
“The champion of Durmstrang—” Dumbledore’s voice rang through the hall. “Viktor Krum.”
The Great Hall erupted in thunderous applause and cheers.
Viktor Krum rose from the Slytherin table and trudged toward Dumbledore. At Professor McGonagall’s prompting, he turned right, walked along the platform, and entered the adjoining room.
“Excellent, Viktor!” Karkaroff bellowed like a bear. “I knew you were destined to be a Champion!”
The Great Hall fell silent again as the second parchment appeared.
“The champion of Beauxbatons—Fleur Delacour!”
The girl, who looked strikingly like a Veela rose gracefully, flicked her silver hair, and glided lightly between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables toward the dais.
She gave Dumbledore a graceful curtsy before disappearing into the same room Krum had just entered.
The Great Hall was deathly silent. Nearly every Hogwarts student held their breath... they all knew the next name to be revealed would be their school’s champion.
The third parchment emerged, right on cue.
“The champion of Hogwarts—”
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