The Great Hall buzzed with anticipation as the flames in the Goblet of Fire burned high, casting an eerie blue glow across the enchanted ceiling. Every student sat on the edge of their seat, waiting for the final name to be called. Your heart pounded as you stole a glance at your twin brother, Harry, seated beside you at the Gryffindor table. He looked just as anxious as you felt, his green eyes fixed on the goblet, his fingers drumming nervously against the wooden surface of the table.

“Victor!” Dumbledore had announced first, to the deafening cheers of Durmstrang. Then Fleur for Beauxbatons, and Cedric for Hogwarts. That should have been it. Three champions. The tournament was over.

But the Goblet wasn’t finished.

The flames roared once more, spitting out a fourth piece of parchment. A hush fell over the hall as Dumbledore reached out, catching the charred edges between his fingers. His blue eyes flickered with something unreadable as he turned the slip over and read the name aloud.

“Harry.”

Your stomach dropped. The silence in the hall stretched unbearably before chaos erupted. Whispers, shouts, accusations—none of it mattered as you turned to Harry. His face had gone pale, eyes wide in shock. He hadn’t put his name in. You knew that. Everyone should have known that.