Leaving Ron here alone didn't feel quite right…
But there was no other choice—this place was already at full capacity. In fact, to make sure Hogwarts didn't end up with three champions, Cohen had even blatantly written "Azkaban" as a prefix on the name slip.
"This room, Cohen," Dumbledore said, pointing him to a door after he arrived upstairs.
As Cohen passed the staff table, he could hear not only whispers among the students but also murmurs of confusion from the professors.
He pushed open the door Harry had just half-heartedly shut behind him and stepped inside.
That was the first thing he heard—Fleur was loudly protesting the unfairness of the situation.
She and the other champions were gathered around the fireplace, all staring at Harry, who stood there looking completely out of his depth.
"He's too young," Fleur insisted. "He clearly shouldn't be in the tournament. This is obviously a mistake."
"Cohen?" Harry, unsure what to say, spotted Cohen entering the room like a lifeline. He hurried over. "Did Dumbledore find a way to fix this?"
"Is there some kind of solution?" Cedric asked, recognizing Cohen—mainly because Hufflepuff's Hopkins had been frequently visiting him this term.
"It's… not exactly easy to explain," Cohen replied. "Right now, we have five champions."
"What?" Krum frowned, his thick eyebrows knitting together as he spoke in his heavy accent. "You're from Hogwarts, right? I saw your school robes."
"Hogwarts has three champions?" Fleur demanded. "That's not fair!"
"It really isn't," Cohen agreed calmly, showing zero guilt despite being the one who'd thrown the rules out the window.
The door burst open as a crowd of people swept in: the three headmasters, Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Moody, as well as Cornelius Fudge and Barty Crouch.
"Madame Maxime!" Fleur ran to her headmistress. "These two boys are saying they were chosen for the tournament!"
"What's going on, Dumbledore?" Madame Maxime asked, her tone stern. "Surely this is not within the tournament guidelines."
"I would like to know the same, Dumbledore," Karkaroff added, with an oily, practiced smile. "Hogwarts already has more champions than both our schools combined. I wasn't told the host school could have additional selections—unless I missed something in the fine print?"
"But it's already happened," Fudge muttered, dabbing sweat from his forehead. "Maybe the Goblet… malfunctioned somehow? Barty, should we…"
"According to the rules, any name that comes out of the Goblet must compete in the Triwizard Tournament," Crouch said firmly. He then turned to Dumbledore. "Dumbledore, may I see the name slips that were drawn?"
Dumbledore handed him the five pieces of parchment, each bearing the name of a chosen champion.
"Look at the handwriting, Barty," Moody suggested, peering over his shoulder. "Could be someone had someone else write it for them. That'd help narrow it down—there aren't that many students in the castle…" ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ NoveIＦire.net
"Someone trying to deflect blame?" Karkaroff interrupted loudly. "The issue is clear: Hogwarts has three champions. *Three!*"
"That is unacceptable. Hogwarts cannot have this many champions—it's blatantly unfair," Madame Maxime snapped. "They should not be allowed to compete."
"You didn't put your name in the Goblet, did you?" Dumbledore asked quietly, ignoring the rising anger around him. His question was for Harry and Cohen.
"No," both of them answered.
"Children's words can't always be trusted," Karkaroff said slyly.
"But there's no evidence to the contrary—unless you have some, Igor?" Dumbledore replied evenly.
"You said your age line would prevent underage students from getting through," Karkaroff shot back. "If we'd known it was faulty, we would have brought more candidates from our own schools!"
"Harry Potter's affiliation is unclear, but Cohen Norton is clearly not a Hogwarts champion," Crouch suddenly said, staring at the last slip of parchment in his hand.
"Even if we remove one, Hogwarts still has the advantage," Madame Maxime muttered.
Moody glanced at the slip Crouch was holding, then looked at Cohen. His magical eye was spinning wildly.
"No, I didn't mean to say Norton isn't a champion," Crouch clarified, unfolding the parchment. "I meant—he doesn't represent Hogwarts."
The writing was small, but nearly everyone had leaned in by now, so it was impossible to miss.
It read something that made the entire room go silent with shock.
"Is this some kind of April Fool's joke?" Madame Maxime asked, frowning. "Rather inappropriate, given the setting."
Karkaroff said nothing. In fact, after seeing that word, he wouldn't even look in Cohen's direction.
"…" Fudge stared hard at Cohen, whose blank expression remained unchanged.
No doubt about it—Fudge was now convinced Cohen had something to do with the Dementor uprising.
"Dumbledore?" Crouch asked quietly. "Would you prefer to explain this publicly, or…"
"The champions may return to their common rooms," Dumbledore said. "We'll be sharing the results with the headmasters. Whether they decide to inform their students is entirely up to them. Cohen, stay behind."
"Hmph." Fleur left at Madame Maxime's urging, flipping her hair with a huff.
Krum followed suit without a word.
Harry hesitated, wanting to stay, but Cedric tugged him away.
"Don't make a scene," Cedric muttered. "Especially not in front of the other schools…"
Once all the champions had left, the room was filled only with adults—and Cohen, standing calmly on his own.
"Alright," Madame Maxime said briskly. "Now can someone please explain?"
But she soon noticed something strange: everyone else seemed vaguely unsettled—as if she were the only one in the room who didn't know about Cohen's connection to Azkaban.
"Why do I get the feeling all of you already knew?" she said, turning to Karkaroff. "Professor Karkaroff—you knew too?"