Right Now Could Last Forever

Every head in the Great Hall turned to look at him. There was no applause. A buzzing, as though of angry bees, was starting fill the Hall; some students were standing up to get a better look at Harry as he sat, frozen, in his seat.

Up at the top table, McGonagall had got to her feet and swept past Ludo Bagman and Karkaroff to whisper urgently to Dumbledore, who bent his ear towards her, frowning slightly.
Harry turned to Ron, Hermione and I.

“I didn’t put my name in,” he said blankly. “You know I didn’t.”

We all just stared blankly back; also shocked at what had happened.

At the top table, Dumbledore had straightened up, nodding to McGonagall.

“Harry Potter!” he called again. “Harry! Up here, if you please!”

“Go on,” I whispered, giving him a slight push.

Harry got to his feet, trod on the hem of his robes and stumbled slightly. He set off up the gap between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables.

The buzzing grew louder and louder. Harry reached Dumbledore, and I saw his old mouth open and close; telling Harry something, but I didn’t hear it over the buzz. Dumbledore wasn’t smiling; Hagrid didn’t wink, or wave, or give any of his usual signs of greeting as Harry passed.

Everything sped up, and next thing I knew, I was walking to the kitchens with Fred, George and Lee. All of us were smiling, but annoyed, as we discussed what everyone else was discussing; how had Harry gotten his name in?

“He must’ve gotten one of the Durmstrang students to do it,” said Lee. “They’re great with the Dark Arts.”

“Maybe,” George said thoughtfully.

We came to a halt in front of a picture of a giant fruit-bowl. I instantly stepped forward, stretched out my forefinger and tickled the huge green pear; just like Fred and George had taught me in my first year. It began to squirm, chuckling, and suddenly it turned into a large green door handle. I seized it and pulled open the door.

The kitchen was an enormous, high-ceilinged room, large as the Great Hall above it, with mounds of glittering brass pots and pans heaped around the stone walls, and a great brick fireplace at the other end. The little house-elves greeted us; shaking our hands and some of them bowing.

“What can we do for you today, Misters and Miss?” squeaked one elf, staring up at us with huge, hazel eyes.

“We’d like to throw a party in our common-room,” said Fred, kneeling so he was at eye level with the elf. He started listing things we wanted, and even while he was saying the words, elves rushed off, preparing what we wanted.

“Yes, Mister Weasley, sir,” squeaked the elf, once Fred had finished, giving a small bow. “We shall bring that upstairs right away, sir.”

The little elf scuttled away, and we returned back to the corridors.

“Funny little creatures; house-elves,” said George, as we walked up the stairs in the Entrance Hall.

“Very accommodating though,” Lee said.

“I can’t wait for all that food. It’s so exciting isn’t it?” I said earning me a weird look. “To celebrate having a Gryffindor Champion; not the food.”

Fred raised his eyebrow.

“OK, maybe a little for the food,” I said.

The common-room was full of excitement as we entered.

“Guys, don’t worry; food and drink is on its way up!” said Lee.

The words had only just left his mouth, when little house elves Apparated into the room, carrying plates, bowls and bottles. Then we waited.

--

The portrait swung open and there was a blast of noise. About a dozen pairs of hands reached into the portrait hole and dragged Harry inside. The whole Gryffindor house was screaming, applauding and whistling.

“You should’ve told us you’d entered!” bellowed Fred; looking half annoyed and half deeply impressed.

“How did you do it without getting a beard? Brilliant!” roared George.

“I didn’t,” Harry said. “I don’t know how –“

Angelina swooped down upon him. “Oh, if it couldn’t be me, at least it’s a Gryffindor –“

“You’ll be able to pay back Diggory for that last Quidditch match, Harry!” shrieked Katie Bell, another of the Gryffindor Chasers.

“We’ve got food, Harry, come and have some –“ I said.

“I’m not hungry, I had enough at the feast –“

But nobody wanted to hear that he wasn’t hungry. I watched him for a bit and I could tell that he wasn’t in the mood to celebrate. Lee had unearthed a Gryffindor banner from somewhere, and he insisted on draping it around Harry like a cloak. Everyone wanted to know how he had done it, how he had tricked Dumbledore’s Age Line, and managed to get his name into the Goblet...

“I didn’t,” he said, over and over again, “I don’t know how it happened.”

But I seemed to be the only one who heard him.

“I’m tired!” he bellowed finally, after nearly half an hour. “No, seriously, George – I’m going to bed –“

I could tell that he would love to talk to Hermione, Ron and I, but we couldn’t find the other two anywhere. Harry finally managed to get up the dormitory stairs, and I was left with the rest of Gryffindor house, while wondering if he had really put his name in the Goblet of Fire.