The atmosphere in the Great Hall was thick with anticipation, the air heavy and taut, as if the very walls were holding their breath. The candles flickered above, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch far beyond their usual reach. It felt like something was about to break—like the calm before a storm. The only sound was the murmuring of students as they waited for the Triwizard Tournament champions to be revealed, their voices anxious and low, like the hum of a gathering storm.
Honey sat next to Draco, his body tense with fatigue and nerves. His hand twitched uncontrollably at his side, the stress of the past weeks weighing heavily on him. He hadn't been sleeping well, and his Tourette's had been particularly bad lately, locking his hand into stiff, painful positions. His father, Severus Snape, had noticed the change and pulled him aside earlier, speaking to him in his usual measured tone, but there was an edge to it, something almost... concerned.
"Your ticks are worse than usual," Snape had commented, his voice soft but stern as he watched Honey's hand curl involuntarily. "And I've noticed you've been avoiding sleep. It's affecting your ability to focus. We will talk more after the champions are revealed."
Honey had nodded, too tired to argue, and now here he was, sitting in the Great Hall, surrounded by the dark whispers of students eagerly awaiting the announcement of the champions. He could feel Draco's hand at his waist, gripping him gently but protectively, as though shielding him from something—someone—or maybe just from the world itself. It was a quiet, subtle reassurance, and Honey found comfort in it, even though he was far too exhausted to truly process it.
The sound of Dumbledore's voice broke through the tension in the hall, echoing in the quiet. "It is time," he announced, his tone unusually serious. "We will now begin the ceremony."
The first name that emerged from the goblet was Cedric Diggory, and the hall erupted into applause. The Hufflepuff student walked proudly to the front, waving to his housemates, and the applause grew louder.
Next came the name of Fleur Delacour, representing Beauxbatons. She rose gracefully, her beauty and poise captivating the hall as she made her way forward, the whispers of admiration and awe rippling through the students.
Then came Viktor Krum from Durmstrang, his name echoing through the hall. He stood with his usual quiet confidence, and the room responded with polite applause, though Honey couldn't help but notice the girls whispering and giggling, their eyes following the famous Quidditch player with undeniable interest.
And then, the room seemed to hold its breath, the tension growing tighter, as the goblet produced one last slip of paper. Dumbledore's hand hovered over it, and for a moment, there was a strange pause, a sense of foreboding that settled over the students like a dark cloud.
When Dumbledore finally unfolded the paper, he spoke the name aloud: "Harry Potter."
Gasps filled the hall, the shock rippling like a wave through the crowd. Honey rolled his eyes, already expecting this. Of course, it would be Harry Potter. He wasn't surprised, not in the least. But the looks of disbelief, of murmurs and raised eyebrows around him, made it clear that the rest of the school had been caught off guard.
