In the middle of the night, the sound of the bitter wind whistling in the Hogwarts grounds and the sound of the endless lake crashing against the cliff shore are intertwined, and at first glance, it sounds a bit like the coast.

Because of the selection of Champions for the Triwizard Tournament, the doors of Hogwarts Castle were open today, and the sound of the cold wind pouring into the castle through the foyer was like the wailing of a ghost, and in the foyer, the flames emitted by four huge torches and the Goblet of Fire placed on a high platform illuminated the foyer as bright as day.

Cedric Diggory of Hufflepuff had just sneaked into the foyer from the basement passage on the side of the first floor surrounded by a few classmates, and after making sure that no one was around, he grinned and crossed the silver age line that surrounded the Goblet of Fire, and threw the parchment with his name and the house into the blue-and-white flames, and after making sure that the parchment was not thrown out by the Goblet of Fire, several people cheered enthusiastically, and then left secretly.

And such a scene has happened several times in the past few hours.

"Diggory's kid has a solid foundation and works hard, and he did well in my gym class, and I think there's a good chance he'll represent Hogwarts as a Warrior—"

In the gloomy office, Amosta leaned back on the sofa and said in a casual tone with a cup of hot tea rising with white smoke.

"Pomona will be delighted--"

Dumbledore carefully removed the cookie crumbs from his beard - Amosta's box of light-tasting pastries had probably been wiped out by him alone,

"I've always believed that Hufflepuffs should be rewarded for their kindness, loyalty, hard work, and down-to-earth qualities."

Dumbledore said sincerely.

Amosta bowed slightly, in approval.

After the death of the other three founders of Hogwarts, Helga Hufflepuff became the first headmaster of Hogwarts, and during the wolf years, Hufflepuff stayed alone in the school, and she almost emptied her personal and family wealth to keep the school running.

Moreover, according to internal sources.

It was Helga Hufflepuff who brought the house-elves to Hogwarts, and Helga was able to do so at a time when Muggle-born students were as humble as dust. Amosta had thought about it before, and I was afraid that Helga Hufflepuff would have thought about it, probably because Gryffindor and Ravenclaw had shared with her the tragic situation of the house-elves in the secret realm of Azkaban.

Time passed silently, and a few more waves of probes came to the foyer and reported to the Goblet of Fire. Amosta roughly estimated that about a quarter of Hogwarts' young wizards had made the trip to the foyer tonight.

In the night, the irregular halo of clouds had shifted to the other end of the sky, and Amosta and Dumbledore in the student security office did not talk again, each quietly holding a book, immersed in a sea of magical knowledge.

Da--

When the hour hand of the wall clock jumped forward a square, and the time came to a point, in the gloom of the ghost crying wolf, suddenly there was a group of footsteps, and Amosta put down the magic book in his hand and pointed his eyes to the picture.

"How do you feel, Victor, can you hold on?"

Durmstrang's group stepped into the glow of the Goblet of Fire and the Torches, their thick fur cloaks, and almost everyone except Karkaroff looked sluggish, and Victor was particularly severe, his two thick, dark brows drooping unhappily, and the dark circles under his eye sockets were evident even on his dark-skinned face.

In the face of Karkaroff's concern, Victor simply shook his head in silence, and then blew his nose heavily.

"You can have some tranquilizers when you go back later, Victor, and for the rest, you'll have to hold on to yourself-"

Karkaroff looked a little annoyed, "It's definitely warmer here than ours, but I didn't expect you to be uncomfortable with the British climate--"

"Why don't you let Wickdor go to the hospital, Karkaroff?"

A shriveled little boy behind Karkaroff said submissively

"There must be a hospital at Hogwarts, right?"

"Get to the hospital!"

Karkaroff's kind look disappeared all at once, and he turned his head to the little boy with a frightening look,

"So that Hogwarts could justifiably poison Wickdor? Shut your mouth, Poliaco, you obnoxious little boy! ”

Karkaroff's stern voice echoed in the foyer, startling the thin boy who had just raised his opinion.

Victor sneezed heavily, leaving Kakanov's support and trying to get close to the Goblet of Fire to put his name inside, but Karkaroff stopped him from doing so.

"Wait, Wickdor!"

Karkaroff's expression suddenly became alarmed, he stopped Victor, and instead jumped into the age line, and then he drew his wand from his silver robe, squinted his eyes, and tilted his head around the pedestal of the Goblet of Fire.

The little wizards brought by Karkaroff were obviously curious about this behavior, but they didn't have the courage to ask, so they turned their eyes to Viktor Krum one by one.

"What are you doing, Professor?"

Karkaroff was tapping his wand against the rough walls of the Goblet of Fire, and from time to time, he was also casting some spell with his wrist, and carefully observing the changes in the flames coming out of the cup.

Even Victor was puzzled by Karkaroff's behavior, his dark eyebrows collapsing, and he asked in a hoarse voice.

"We can't afford to take it lightly, Wickdor—"

Karkaroff was always watching the Goblet of Fire, using all his magical knowledge to determine if there was something wrong with the Goblet of Fire, and he nonchalantly answered Victor's question,

"When you reach my age, and have my experience, you will know that we are now facing the most cunning and adept wizard in a century who is best at disguising his hypocrisy, and who can do anything. I have a strong suspicion that this cup has been enchanted and will filter out the best students of our two schools of witchcraft and wizardry, Beauxbatons! ”

"You mean Mr. Amosta Blaine?"

Krum was stunned and said,

"He doesn't look like a wizard doing such a thing?"

"I'm talking about Albus Dumbledore--"

Karkaroff sneered, revealing a mouthful of disgusting yellow teeth,

"Dumbledore's image is not as positive as you think, and a decent gentleman cannot claim the title of the greatest wizard of our time. Pick up the intrigue, even if it's the Dark Lord--"

Karkaroff took a deep breath, stopped his mouth vigilantly, and looked around to make sure that no one was peeping in the dark before he breathed a sigh of relief and straightened up.

"As for Amosta Blaine—"

After tossing and turning, Karkarov, who didn't find any problems, stupidly withdrew from the age line, tilted his head and said to Krum,

"I know you adore him for his mana, Wickdor, but don't forget what I told you about Brian, how he defeated us and Beauxbatons to make Hogwarts the host of Triwizard Tournament. His wrists were no worse than Dumbledore's, if not more intense. ”

Karkaroff looked at the cold-toned foyer with a look of disgust,

"Anyway, we have to be careful, and I even suspect that if Hogwarts doesn't win the tournament by the end, Brian might be able to directly attack you and the Beauxbatons Warriors!"

(End of chapter)