HP: Redemption of The Platinum Boy

Chapter 117: Suspicion Among Champions

Harry Potter was hurrying through the corridors of Hogwarts Castle, hoping to find Cedric Diggory as soon as possible.

He didn't particularly like Cedric. Undoubtedly, Cedric was very popular. But people always compared him to Harry—from age to appearance, from academic performance to Quidditch skills—to argue for Cedric's legitimacy as Hogwarts champion.

Especially in recent days, the Hufflepuff students' hostility toward Harry had been rising sharply.

Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley, who'd been friendly to Harry since the Chamber of Secrets incident in second year, had now donned badges that "Support Cedric Diggory," thus "distancing themselves" from him once again.

Those Hufflepuffs who'd already been at odds with Harry, such as Zacharias Smith—who was Chaser for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team—were even more outspoken in their hostility toward Harry, often mocking him in public, and the words "Potter Stinks" frequently glowed on their chests.

As for Cedric himself, although he maintained a certain level of civility on the surface and greeted Harry amicably when the champions had their wands inspected, it was clear to everyone that he didn't believe Harry's claim that he "hadn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire."

"Then why did you even think of telling him?" Ron asked, puzzled, following closely behind his friend whom he'd just reconciled with. "The students in his House treat you dreadfully. Loads of Hufflepuffs walk around the school wearing that awful badge, hoping you'll embarrass yourself so they can laugh at you. Why do you still care whether he lives or dies?"

"Ron, this isn't about personal likes or dislikes," Harry said quietly. "At the very least, we ought to be on the same page, don't you think?"

Last night, after returning from Hogsmeade, he'd accepted Hagrid's invitation and discovered a terrible fact—it appeared that the headmasters of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons already knew about the dragons.

This meant Harry no longer had to feel uneasy or ashamed for knowing about dragons in advance; it also meant that only the other Hogwarts champion—Cedric Diggory—didn't yet know the contents of the first task.

Harry wasn't certain if Cedric could maintain his composure upon first seeing a dragon; in any case, when he'd learned that dragons were the first task, the only thing he'd felt was dizziness from fear.

"Only you would think that way," Ron muttered, pursing his lips. "Have you ever considered whether Cedric, if he knew about this, would be as noble as you and willing to share it?"

"I don't know. I'm not telling him this hoping for anything in return. I mean, it's fair, isn't it?" Harry hurried around the corner and said to Ron, "In a way, Hermione has a point. I represent not only Gryffindor, but Hogwarts; just as Cedric represents not only Hufflepuff, but Hogwarts."

"Yes, Hermione would say that—though I think she probably said it because he's not bad-looking. She has this stubborn, unbreakable filter for good-looking people, ever since Lockhart," Ron said, somewhat exasperated.

"It didn't start with Lockhart." Harry shook his head, recalling how Hermione had enjoyed being Draco's study partner since first year. "It started much earlier than him."

"Oh, I see Cedric. He's with his group wearing badges," Ron said, pointing toward the courtyard. "Should we approach him directly?"

"I'm afraid I'll have difficulty getting a chance to speak with him," Harry said glumly. "These days, the students around Cedric are always blocking my way and preventing me from getting close to him. They're probably afraid I'll do something drastic—like curse him to prevent him from competing—so they're always on guard against me."

"They're mental! But it's all right," Ron said irritably. "I'll fetch Cedric. You wait here!"

Fifteen minutes later, Cedric Diggory bid farewell to the other Hogwarts champion with a bewildered expression and walked back toward the common room with a heavy heart.

He'd just learned some shocking news from Harry Potter—the contents of the first task of the Triwizard Tournament—that they would be facing dragons.

"Are you certain?" He paused momentarily, then, suppressing his fear, asked Harry in a low voice.

"Absolutely," Harry said. "I saw them with my own eyes."

"How did you find out? We shouldn't know..." Cedric felt uneasy.

"Don't worry about it. I'm not the only one who knows. Fleur and Krum know now too—Madame Maxime and Karkaroff both saw the dragons," Harry said urgently.

Cedric studied Harry, a cloud of confusion and doubt gradually rising in his grey eyes.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked the thin, green-eyed boy before him, whose lightning-shaped scar was faintly visible among his black hair.

As fellow champions vying for the glory of the Tournament, shouldn't they be rivals?

Was Harry bluffing, attempting to frighten him and wear down his nerves?

However, looking at the serious expression on the boy's face, Cedric felt that Harry didn't appear to be lying.

Harry even kept saying, "It's only fair."

If Harry truly cared about things like "fairness," why would he violate the Triwizard Tournament's age restriction and secretly place his name into the Goblet of Fire? Could it be that his long-held claim of "not putting his name into the Goblet" was actually true?

This wasn't the first time Cedric's negative assessment of Harry had wavered.

He'd wondered about this before. Harry was a respectable opponent on the Quidditch pitch, never resorting to underhanded tactics or showing hostility off the pitch—completely unlike Slytherin's Seeker—but faced with the ultimate temptation of becoming Triwizard Tournament champion, was this boy who'd survived You-Know-Who completely unmoved?

All students—whether from Hogwarts, Durmstrang, or Beauxbatons—considered it an unparalleled honor to "become a Triwizard champion."

Everyone was eager to become this champion. It wasn't merely because of the generous prize money, the exemption from end-of-year exams, or the prestige and glory bestowed upon them, but also because being "selected as a champion" was itself an affirmation of their personal abilities, talents, character, and numerous other qualities.

Some might question a judge's bias and stance—everyone had their own interests—but no one could question the Goblet of Fire.

Having withstood the test of time and witnessed countless ups and downs, it had judged so many people of virtue and talent, and seen the names of so many hopeful applicants.

It possessed absolutely objective evaluation criteria.

This meant that those who could be recognized by it must be people of exceptional character.

After sitting in the Hufflepuff common room for a while with his head down in thought, Cedric suddenly looked up and asked the students around him, "Do you think Harry Potter is genuinely the sort of person who'll stop at nothing? In my experience, he's a sincere and brave person."

"Cedric, you can't always think like a gentleman. Are Gryffindors necessarily sincere and brave? They simply mistake being outspoken for sincerity and recklessness for bravery," Zacharias Smith said disdainfully. "Look at the Weasley twins—didn't they also attempt to use an Ageing Potion to enter this competition?"

"That being said," Ernie Macmillan interjected, "I don't think he'd deny what he's done. I've misjudged him before—"

"Ernie, you're too naive. Potter's always been a fame-seeker," Zacharias said. "Consider this: in which year hasn't he stirred up some trouble to get everyone's attention?"

"You can't say that. I don't think he enjoys being talked about," Ernie said, puzzled. "However, he is rather unlucky. Why is it that every time something happens, it's somehow related to him?"

"There are no coincidences without reason. Wake up—he's suspicious," Zacharias said dismissively. "What, Ernie, have you lost your mind, wanting to support Potter instead of Cedric?"

"Of course I support Cedric. He's our pride and a true champion," Ernie said, his face flushed, pointing to the badge pinned to his robes.

"But how could he possibly cross that Age Line? It was Dumbledore himself who set it—" Justin Finch-Fletchley said hesitantly, stroking the badge in his hand.

"Shut it, you clueless idiot," Zacharias regarded his Muggle-born classmate condescendingly, rolling his eyes. "Potter must have used some sort of evil Dark Magic to distort the Goblet of Fire's judgment. Probably something truly vile—I've heard my father mention examples of people doing anything to enter the Triwizard Tournament. Or perhaps Dumbledore gave him special treatment. Either way, it's despicable."

"Don't say that," Cedric said, emerging from his thoughts on "how to handle the dragon," his face showing unease and doubt as he attempted to smile at the indignant students. "I appreciate your support, but there's no need to argue about it, nor to attack Harry Potter. We can't decide what other people think or influence their actions; we can only focus on ourselves first."

The surrounding students nodded in agreement and dispersed. The bright red words "Support Cedric Diggory" gleamed on their lapels.

At this moment, the boy who puzzled Cedric was standing in Alastor Moody's office, facing the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's one spinning magical eye and the other normal, unmoving eye.

"You just did something very sporting," Moody said softly to the somewhat dazed boy. "Sit down."

Harry sat and looked around. He saw all manner of strange and fascinating objects: a cracked Sneakoscope, a Secrecy Sensor, what Professor Moody claimed was a Foe-Glass, and a large trunk with seven keyholes.

At this moment, Moody raised the matter of the dragon again. "So, you've discovered the dragons, have you?"

Harry didn't answer.

"It's all right," Moody said, sitting down, licking his lips and adjusting his wooden leg. "Cheating's always been a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament."

"I didn't cheat," Harry said firmly. "I—I discovered it by chance."

He couldn't betray Sirius, much less tell Professor Moody about Hagrid's violation of the rules.

Moody didn't seem to care. He went on at length about how Karkaroff and Maxime would never be so detached, but Harry was preoccupied with the rapidly spinning magical eye and felt rather unsettled.

"So... have you worked out how to get past your dragon?" Moody asked.

"I've made up my mind," Harry said.

"What is it?" Moody asked, staring intently at Harry.

"Is this something I can tell you?" Harry said. "I thought it was meant to be secret."

"Oh, as a professor at the host school, naturally I can't be biased, can I? I merely want to hear your approach and offer some well-intentioned, general advice. Make certain you don't underestimate the dragon," Moody said gruffly.

"I want to use a Summoning Charm," Harry said.

"Excellent—excellent—" A look of surprise suddenly flashed across Moody's scarred face. He asked cryptically, "Play to your strengths and summon what you need?"

"That's right." Harry smiled faintly.

"You—did you devise this yourself? It's very ingenious." The magical eye stared at him unwaveringly.

"Actually, it was my friend who gave me the idea," Harry said.

"Ron Weasley?" Moody asked approvingly.

"No," Harry said, "it's Draco Malfoy."

"Oh—he's your friend?" Moody paused, his truncated nose twitching as he asked suspiciously, "A Slytherin? A Malfoy? Don't you know who his father is? You're comfortable asking him for advice and help—aren't you afraid he might do something underhanded?"

"He's a Hogwarts student, just like me, isn't he? He's never been hostile to me; he's even helped me practice spells." Harry regarded him and felt a slight surge of annoyance—why did Moody always act as though Draco were some sort of monster?

"Don't trust people too easily, Harry. Constant vigilance, Harry, constant vigilance." Moody didn't pursue the topic further, instead saying in a rumbling voice, "Spend more time with your Gryffindor friends and practice hard!"

"I will practice hard. Thank you for your advice, Professor Moody." Harry said and departed.

The professor, who was rotating his magical eye, stroked his wooden leg and watched Harry's figure as he exited the office with suspicion. He couldn't help falling into deep contemplation as he recalled his confrontation with Draco Malfoy the previous night.