HP:BSG - Chapter 694: Harry’s Decision

“I remember now!” Harry exclaimed with realization suddenly dawning on his face. 

“A few days ago, I heard someone say Filch was giving you a hard time. I thought it was strange — he’s never been that rude to you before… Is that when you discovered who he really was?”

Wade gave an approving nod at Harry’s unintentional cooperation. His gaze fell upon the Goblet of Fire as he said:

“Yes. But before he escaped, he revealed something — Voldemort wanted to capture one of the champions competing in the Third Task. I’ve checked it: this trophy is a Portkey. But someone erased its original destination and changed the final location.”

“Where does it lead to…” He looked at Harry. “I think you already have a guess.”

Harry’s heartbeat quickened. He stared hard into Wade’s eyes, trying to find any hint of deceit or manipulation.

But there was none.

In those gray eyes, there was only the familiar steadiness and sincerity.

“So what’s the plan?” Harry asked in a low voice. “We just walk into the trap? Without telling Dumbledore?”

“And then what?” Wade countered. “Even if the Headmaster believed us, checked the Goblet, and found its destination—by the time he got there, do you think Voldemort would just stand around waiting like an idiot?”

“Of course not.”

Harry muttered, his fingers unconsciously brushing the scar on his forehead as he endured the dull pain. “He’ll just lie low, like a snake, waiting for another chance—again and again—until he gets what he wants!”

At that thought, a shiver ran through him. A faint fear crept up from his chest.

“Voldemort will stop at nothing to reach his goal! Just like at the World Cup… and now this. If your dolls hadn’t eliminated the other competitors, maybe all the champions would’ve been in danger!”

He couldn’t help but glance toward the direction of the school. Through the dense shadows of the trees, he could almost see Sirius’s grinning face, Lupin’s gentle encouragement… and Hermione, Ron, Neville, Michael, Ryan…

“That man doesn’t care who gets hurt by his plans. If this happens again… everyone around me will be in danger!”

He spoke with anger and certainty. The pain in his scar made his vision blur, but when he lifted his head again, his eyes burned with determination.

“Instead of constantly living in fear, waiting for Voldemort and the Death Eaters to strike again and letting more innocent people suffer for their ambitions, it’s better to follow his plan—to see what he’s really after!”

“That’s my thought as well,” Wade said with a slight nod. “But you know… once you grab the trophy, there’s no turning back.”

Harry took a deep breath. “I don’t really have any other choice. But at least… this time, I know what I’m walking into.”

Wade smiled. “Then… together?”

“But, Wade…” Harry stopped him. “I don’t want to act like some arrogant fool. I know you’re strong. But… but I think…”

He drew in another deep breath, trying not to show hesitation or regret.

He had to say the rest before he lost his nerve.

“I think… Voldemort wants me! You don’t have to take the risk with me! I want you to go back to the arena right now, tell Dumbledore everything, and then—”

“And then wait to collect your corpse?” Wade interrupted sharply, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

Harry: “…”

It was hard to describe the expression on the Savior’s face at that moment — it was as if the courage he had barely managed to hold together had suddenly been pierced through. For an instant, Harry’s face went blank.

“Listen, Harry,” Wade said seriously. 

“I’m not recklessly rushing into danger with you. I’m standing here because I planned for this. Maybe you’ve decided to face this with the courage of someone ready to die — but I haven’t. I will come back alive. And I will never stand by and watch you die in front of me.”

Harry opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His clenched fists trembled slightly. After a long pause, he finally said:

“Then you have to promise me — if things get out of control, you’ll make sure to retreat safely first.”

Wade was taken aback for a moment, then gave a genuine smile.

“Of course. What do you think I am, a Gryffindor?”

He turned toward the Goblet of Fire, his voice barely above a whisper. “Count to three?”

“Okay,” said Harry. “One… two… three…”

They grasped the handles of the Goblet at the same time.

In an instant, a strange surge of magic burst from the cup. It was as if an invisible hook had latched onto their stomachs and yanked them forward with brutal force.

“Hold on!”

Harry thought he shouted, but his voice shattered apart in the roaring wind.

The world twisted and spun before his eyes. He was flung into a whirlpool of dazzling colors; everything around them stretched into streaks of light — and Wade was still right beside him.

“Bang!”

They hit solid ground hard. Harry, dizzy and disoriented, pushed himself up with his glasses hanging crookedly on his nose. Wade, however, had adjusted his posture mid-fall and landed on one knee.

The first thing he did was glance down at his palm — then around at their surroundings.

Sure enough, the Goblet of Fire had not come with them. It had vanished from their grasp.

…

After the initial shock, Dumbledore pressed a weary hand to his forehead, unable to speak for a long while as chaos erupted around him—

“Quirrell? That stuttering professor?” a fourth-year student exclaimed to his friend. “Did you hear that? They said Professor Quirrell was involved with You-Know-Who? Did I hear wrong?”

Fudge slammed his cup over in agitation. “Utter nonsense! Barty Crouch Jr. has been dead in Azkaban for years! Dumbledore, is this what you’re teaching your students?”

The Bulgarian delegation all turned pale. “I knew it! The Veela frenzy was not an accident!”

Several Irish wizards suddenly covered their faces and began sobbing violently. They had once treated the leprechauns as family-like companions — but after that night, most of the crazed leprechauns had been executed by wizards.

In the stands, many who had personally lived through that terrifying night were quietly weeping.

“Cut the broadcast! Don’t show any more!” Fudge bellowed at the SMC technicians. “How long are you going to let those two boys make fools of us on live camera?”

“Keep broadcasting,” came the excited order from their superiors through the staff’s earpieces. “My God, the whole world will change because of this program today!”

So everyone pretended not to see the furious Minister of Magic.

But when the two of them reached out toward the Goblet at the same time, the stands erupted in the loudest, most desperate shout yet—

“STOP!!!”

“No—no, no, no! Don’t! Don’t go, Harry, Wade!” Sirius roared, his voice raw with panic. “Stop them, Dumbledore!”

He screamed as he leapt straight down from the stands and sprinted toward the Forbidden Forest.

The next second, the image on the giant magic screen went black — sound and picture vanished at once.

The broadcasting bluebird froze for a moment, then as if receiving a command, dove toward the Goblet of Fire still sitting in the center of the arena — and vanished instantly from sight as well.

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