Chapter 5: Replacement Champion Discussion
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. IT BELONGS TO JK ROWLING.
A/N: Read, enjoy, and remember not to take either life or my writing too seriously.
It was quite late by the time Harry and Hermione finally made their way back to the Gryffindor common room.
To their relief, Ron Weasley was nowhere in sight. Both of them had agreed it would be better to wait until after Harry's meeting with the Headmaster before speaking to him about the replacement champion.
The common room was still fairly busy. Several Gryffindor students sat around the fire talking or finishing homework.
The moment Harry entered, people immediately noticed the sling and cast around his arm.
"What happened to you?" someone asked.
"Did a dragon get you already?" another joked.
Colin Creevey instantly recognized the cast for what it was, but a few of the younger students stared in confusion at the unfamiliar muggle-style treatment.
"Why didn't Madam Pomfrey just fix it?" one of them asked.
Harry repeated the explanation he and Hermione had agreed on.
"There were complications during tournament preparation," he said, trying not to sound like a broken record.
The answer satisfied most of them, and eventually the questions stopped.
After a while Harry managed to escape the crowd and headed upstairs toward the boys' dormitory.
Ron was sitting on his bed when Harry entered the room.
He looked up briefly.
At first his expression showed irritation, and he clearly intended to ignore Harry completely.
Then he noticed the cast.
"What happened to your arm?" Ron asked sharply.
Harry hesitated.
"I broke it," he said. "I was practicing for the tournament and things went wrong."
Ron's eyes narrowed.
"And Madam Pomfrey didn't fix it?"
Harry forced himself to stay calm.
Now was not the time to argue.
"Apparently she couldn't," he said. "There were complications with something else."
Ron snorted.
"Yeah, right. You're probably just trying to get sympathy from everyone."
Without another word Ron pulled the curtains around his bed closed.
Harry stared at the fabric for a moment.
Fine, he thought.
Tomorrow.
xXxXxXx
Harry's summons to the Headmaster's office came shortly after breakfast the next morning.
When Professor McGonagall approached the Gryffindor table and asked Harry to accompany her, he immediately requested that Hermione be allowed to come as well.
McGonagall considered this briefly before agreeing.
Fifteen minutes later Harry and Hermione stood in front of the large desk inside Albus Dumbledore's office.
"Good morning, Harry. Miss Granger," the Headmaster greeted them warmly.
"Good morning, sir," they replied together.
Dumbledore gestured toward a small bowl sitting on the desk.
"Would either of you care for a lemon drop?"
Harry shook his head politely.
"No thank you."
Hermione declined as well.
Dumbledore folded his hands together.
"I understand you had quite an eventful evening," he said calmly. "Would you care to explain what happened?"
Harry opened his mouth to speak.
"Well sir—"
"It was my fault, Professor," Hermione interrupted quickly.
Harry blinked.
Hermione continued without hesitation.
"I insisted Harry try the spell. I thought it might help him survive the tournament. After all, he's only a fourth-year student competing against seventh years."
Harry stared at her in amazement.
Her ability to construct convincing explanations on the spot was impressive.
For some reason the situation reminded him of their first year—when she had confidently told a professor she went looking for a troll.
"But the Amplio Magus spell is extremely dangerous," Dumbledore said thoughtfully as he studied the report Madam Pomfrey had given him earlier that morning.
"You were fortunate the results were not worse, Harry."
Then he turned to Hermione.
"And where exactly did you learn about this spell, Miss Granger?"
They had expected this question.
Hermione delivered the prepared answer smoothly.
"I found it in a second-hand book I bought from Flourish and Blotts over the summer."
Dumbledore nodded slowly.
"Well, fortunately Madam Pomfrey managed to stabilize the situation. There should be no permanent damage."
He looked toward Harry's arm.
"Unfortunately, it does mean you will no longer be able to compete in the tournament."
Harry tried very hard not to grin.
"I'm sorry, sir," he said carefully. "I know I didn't enter the Goblet, but I had actually started looking forward to the challenge."
Dumbledore nodded understandingly.
"According to the rules of the tournament," he continued, "you must name a replacement champion."
Harry tried to sound surprised.
"I will?"
"Yes," Dumbledore confirmed. "I suggest you begin considering who you would like to nominate."
He leaned back in his chair.
"I will announce your withdrawal from the tournament during dinner this evening. Once you select your replacement, they will need to begin preparing for the first task immediately."
Harry nodded.
"Yes sir. I'll think about it right away."
"Very good," Dumbledore said pleasantly.
"Are you quite sure neither of you would like a lemon drop?"
They both declined again.
"In that case," he said with a smile, "have a pleasant day."
Once they stepped outside the office, Harry and Hermione immediately looked at each other.
Then they both burst into grins.
"Hermione," Harry said, shaking his head in amazement, "you are the smartest, most beautiful, and possibly the most terrifying witch I know."
Hermione blushed brightly.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
Unfortunately, the rest of the morning was miserable for Harry.
Everyone wanted to know about his arm.
By lunchtime he felt like he had repeated the phrase "complications during tournament preparation" at least fifty times.
Finally, after lunch, Harry and Hermione cornered Ron in the Gryffindor common room.
Ron had been sitting near the fireplace when they entered.
The moment he saw them he tried to stand and leave.
Hermione reacted instantly.
"Locomotor Mortis!"
Ron's legs locked together and he toppled forward onto the floor.
Harry winced.
"Okay, Ron," he said calmly. "I need to ask you something."
Ron glared at him from the floor.
"I think you'll want to hear it."
Harry gestured toward the chairs.
"You can either listen lying there… or we can sit somewhere more comfortable."
Ron hesitated.
Eventually he agreed.
Harry nodded toward Hermione.
She lifted the hex and Ron slowly stood up.
Ron glanced toward the portrait hole, then toward the staircase, clearly considering escape.
After realizing it was pointless, he sat down heavily in one of the chairs.
"What do you want, Potter?" he snapped.
Harry ignored the tone.
"It's simple," he said. "Would you like to be a Triwizard Champion?"
Ron stared at him.
"What?"
"Because of my injury, I can't compete anymore," Harry continued. "According to the rules, I need to name a replacement champion."
Ron's jaw slowly dropped.
"You're serious?"
Harry nodded.
"If you stop acting like an idiot for five minutes, I might consider giving you the opportunity."
Ron's expression changed instantly.
It looked like Christmas morning combined with several birthdays and the end-of-term feast all at once.
"Champion?" he whispered. "Me?"
Then suspicion appeared.
"Wait… is this one of Fred and George's jokes?"
Harry sighed.
"This isn't a joke."
"Professor Dumbledore is announcing it tonight."
Ron looked stunned.
"But… why me?"
Harry shrugged.
"You're my best friend. Or at least you used to be."
He paused.
"I never wanted to compete anyway. Now that I can't, I thought you might want the chance."
Ron didn't hesitate.
"Yes."
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