Harry Potter’s Natural Villain

At this time, Dumbledore's eyes glanced slightly in the direction of the Slytherin table, and exchanged glances with Malfoy.

Then Dumbledore took out his wand and gave it a wide swing.

In an instant, except for the candles hanging in the jack-o-lanterns above the students' heads, the rest of the candles were extinguished, and the auditorium suddenly fell into a state of semi-darkness. The Goblet of Fire was shining brightly now, brighter than anything in the entire auditorium, and the blue-and-white flames of sparks were dazzling. Everyone was watching, waiting... Several people kept looking at their watches...

The flames in the goblet suddenly turned red again, and the crackling sparks spattered. Then, a tongue of flame shot into the air, and from it flew a piece of charred parchment—all the people in the auditorium held their breaths.

Dumbledore caught the parchment and held it far away so that he could read the writing on it by the light of the flames. The flame then returned to blue-white again.

"Durmstrong's champion," he said in a clear and forceful tone, "is Victor Krum."

The thunderous applause suddenly came to mind in the auditorium. No matter which school the students were from, they applauded the warrior from the bottom of their hearts, but he himself seemed to be a little disillusioned. Maybe it was because the cold was not completely cured. stood up, walked listlessly towards Dumbledore, then turned to the right, walked along the staff desk, and entered the next room through the door.

"Fantastic, Viktor!" Karkaroff roared like a bell, and despite the loud applause in the auditorium, everyone could hear his voice, "I know you're destined to be a warrior!"

Now Karkaroff looks overjoyed. He has always been worried about Krum's physical condition before. Now that the Goblet of Fire has sprayed out his name and the dust has settled, he is relieved a lot.

The applause and conversation gradually subsided. Everyone's attention was now on the goblet again, and after a few seconds the flames turned red again. The second parchment leaped out of the cup, propelled by the flames.

"The champion of Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"

Furong stood up calmly at this time, and the expressions of her and Madame Maxime were relatively indifferent, which was what they expected.

It's just that the other Beauxbatons didn't feel very well, and even a few female students burst into tears, buried their heads in their arms, and whimpered sadly.

"I know you'll be walking into that room soon, too." Fleur paused as she passed the long Slytherin table, as if on purpose, shook her silvery show, and smiled at Malfoy said.

"Thank you." Malfoy responded simply.

Then Furong walked straight and lightly into the room next door.

After that, the atmosphere in the auditorium was even higher, because after the second warrior was selected, it meant that the warriors of Hogwarts at home were about to be born.

On Hufflepuff's long table, many students were looking at Cedric expectantly, and he himself took a deep breath. The handsome face looked very calm, just a few beads of sweat on his forehead, and The clenched fist still revealed his current emotions.

He was nervous.

The situation in Slytherin was similar. Those students also looked forward and nervously to the leader of the academy who helped them win many honors, but the people who were watched behaved slightly differently.

Malfoy seemed very calm, and he didn't know if he had absolute confidence in himself, or if he didn't care about the outcome at all.

"The warriors of Hogwarts," Dumbledore exclaimed, "it's Draco Malfoy!"

"My God!" Ron covered his face in pain, not wanting to accept this reality.

Hermione looked at Slytherin's long table with a complicated expression, and didn't know what words to use to comfort Harry now.

It seems that you are also a little happy in your heart?

"I'm going to talk to Professor Dumbledore about the treatment of house elves!" Hermione shook her head.

Throwing the somewhat "happy" mood just now out of my mind, I began to think about how to save those house-elves who lost their freedom.

The long Slytherin table immediately burst into a burst of astonishing cheers, and the screaming and stomping behavior infected all the students at a table like a contagion.

Some students even made a lot of provocative gestures towards the tables of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. These days several academies are full of gunpowder. As long as there are more competitive players among the registered players, Students from several houses would quarrel, but it was time for Slytherin House to enjoy the fruits of victory.

This blatant provocation did not subside until Dumbledore coughed a few times.

"Congratulations, Malfoy." Cedric said kindly as he passed Hufflepuff's long table, at this time his clenched fists had loosened, adjusted his emotions, and accepted it calmly With this result, it seems very graceful.

"I'm just a little bit luckier." Malfoy said modestly, and his heart was a little complicated: "The warrior seat that everyone is flocking to, who can think of what will happen in the future after winning it?"

What was lost was temporary glory, but because of this, he regained his own life, which should be a suitable transaction.

It's just that this "exchange" is only known to Malfoy himself. If he says it, he will only be regarded as a crazy talk similar to Professor Trelawney's usual practice, and may also be understood as "sarcasm" by the people in front of him. .

"You have to thank me well. If I hadn't become a warrior, you would have lost my life." Once such words are spoken, no matter how well-mannered they are, it is impossible not to be angry.

"Great!" exclaimed Dumbledore cheerfully when the noise finally died down, "well, now our three champions have been chosen. I know I can count on all of you, including Beauxbatons and The rest of Durmstrang's classmates, you will definitely give your all to support your warriors. You will also make a great contribution to this event by cheering on the warriors—"

But Dumbledore stopped abruptly, and everyone could see what caught his attention.

The flame in the goblet turned red again. The sparks crackled and sputtered. A long tongue of flame suddenly jumped into the air, and a piece of parchment was held on it.

Dumbledore seemed to subconsciously stretch out a slender hand and grab the parchment. He held it far away, staring at the name written on it. There was a long silence, Dumbledore stared at the note in his hand, and everyone in the auditorium stared at Dumbledore. Then, Dumbledore cleared his throat and read aloud—

"Harry Potter."

Beside the faculty seat, Mad-Eye Moody, who was dozing with his head down, suddenly opened his eyes, a faint smile appeared on the corners of his mouth, and then his eyes closed again, as if he fell asleep again past.

No one would believe that Mr. Moody, who has always been decent, would show such a "tricky" expression.

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