The fire in the Goblet had just turned red, again. Sparks of varying colours flew out of it, causing several of those officials closest to jump and stumble backwards. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and, borne upon it, another piece of parchment.

Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat, and read out -

"Harry Potter."

Chaos reined across the hall almost before the last syllable of Harry's name had passed Dumbledore's lips. Voices all seemed to shout together-

"It's not fair!" Harry heard a boy in Hufflepuff scream.

"It's always him!" From a Ravenclaw girl. The worst, however, was Ron.

"I can't believe you!" The redhead hissed, for once not raising his voice. "You could have told me how you put your name in." He shook his fringe from his eyes, and shot a glare of pure hatred at Harry. "Call yourself a friend, well you're no friend of mine!"

Harry started forwards at the words, mouth falling open leaving him only stuttering lone syllables.

"I… I…" Harry stammered, at a loss for words. He turned to Hermione, eyes pleading, but saw a look of anger on her face. "Herm-?"

"Ronald Weasley!" Hermione interrupted, leaning across Harry to speak to the boy in question. "Can you not tell that Harry didn't put his name in? Harry would never do something so dangerous without thinking! Just look at his face, it's obvious he doesn't want to participate."

"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore called again. "Please come to join the other champions!"

A small hand on Harry's back pushed him up and out of his seat, he turned to see Hermione looking back at him with a sad smile on her face.

"Go, Harry," she admonished quietly. Ron still refused to look Harry in the eye, and was now avoiding looking at Hermione too.

Harry took a few steps forward, towards the Goblet and Dumbledore and the Head Table, and then he stopped.

"No." Harry shook his head. "I'm not doing this."

"Harry, my boy, just come to the Champions room and we will get this all sorted out." Dumbledore stepped forwards, beckoning to Harry, but the boy shook his head once more.

"No. We'll sort it out here." Harry's voice was louder now, or perhaps the room was just quieter as more and more students focused on the confrontation between Harry and the Headmaster. "Fix it." Harry pleaded. "I don't want to do this."

"Harry, I am afraid that there is nothing to be done, in this instance." Dumbledore bowed his head, frowning sadly. "You cannot not take part, there is a contract."

"How the hell is there a contract?" Harry exploded outwards, head snapping up, arms reaching wide. A Hufflepuff first year, when writing a letter to her parents that evening, even claimed that he had gained a half-foot in height! "I didn't sign anything, I didn't put my name in that thing so there is no way in hell that it can have a contract with me!"

"I am afraid, Harry, that-"

"There is one way," a dark haired Professor stepped forwards. "I studied the Goblet in my youth. If Mr Potter takes hold of the Goblet, and announces that he does not wish to compete, it will give him the option of

making a sacrifice to retire from the tournament."

"Professor Vector, I thank you for your help, but Harry cannot risk the sacrifice."

"I believe, headmaster, that that is Mr Potter's choice to make." Vector responded coolly, turning her eyes to the student in question. "Remember that you can always choose to reject the sacrifice and continue on in the tournament if the cost is too high."

"What would I have to sacrifice?" Harry narrowed his eyes, his left thumb lightly rubbing at his chin.

"Nobody knows, it asks something different from each person. Some were asked to forfeit their magic, one man could never grow his hair below his shoulders. Many champions refused to speak of their loss, and some still refused the bargain, leaving them unable to speak of their choice "

Harry nodded his thanks at the Professor, then turned and dodged the ageing Headmaster to take hold of the Goblet.

"I DO NOT WISH TO COMPETE IN THE TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT!" Harry shouted. The last things he saw before the flames rose up and consumed him were the betrayed blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore.

- HBP - HBP - HBP - HBP - HBP -

The rest of the room watched on in silence as Harry's face twisted from one expression to another. The fire had abated somewhat, although that hadn't stopped several feminine squeals from sounding out across the hall when it first erupted.

Hermione Granger held her breath as she watched her best friend grapple with yet another life-changing decision.

Ronald Weasley watched with eyes narrowed, hoping that his former friend would pay a heavy forfeit.

Albus Dumbledore looked on at his saviour in horror; the goblet could demand something that would greatly decrease the chances of Harry achieving success over Lord Voldemort.

Luna Lovegood closed her eyes, praying desperately that a boy she had yet to meet would make a wise decision.

Even as the flames receded, every person present watching the spectacle could clearly see the tears that ran in shining tracks across his cheeks, dripping from his chin. They all watched Harry's lips moving through the flames, opening, closing, then opening again. His eyes closed tightly shut, and a trembling hand reached up to his forehead.

"I accept." He whispered softly, almost apologetically, and again, louder, fists clenched and eyes flashing. "I accept. I accept god damn you!"

Dumbledore flinched and gasped as the slip of paper in his hand burst into flames at the same time as the fire that had surrounded Harry, the goblet's fire dropped to nothing.

With the release of the flames, Harry collapsed, sobs wracking his body. The photograph that Colin Creevey took would be splashed across the front page of The Prophet, with a headline in garish, bold font reading, simply; "Boy-Who-Lived, Broken?".