"Harry Potter?" The silver-haired witch quickly calmed down. She nodded and smiled, "You are better than the rumors say. Let me introduce myself. I am Fleur Delacour. You can call me..."

"I'm not interested in your name," Harry interrupted her, "and right now, you shouldn't introduce yourself."

Furong put on a playful smile on her face: "Then what should I do, give you a kiss on the cheek?"

"Apologize," Harry said simply.

Furong was startled, with some surprise in her eyes.

My charm didn't work? Is this little boy really that straight?

She thought this was a unique way of expressing herself in a British way. After all, her grandmother had said that people in Britain were a bit old-fashioned.

"Apologize." Harry spoke again, a faint magic surged in his eyes, and he waved his hand gently.

Axis Seal!

Furong was dazed. She bowed to Ron and apologized: "I'm sorry, sir. I shouldn't have..."

She quickly woke up: "Silent wandless spell, you can do this?"

Harry said nothing.

Fleur soon started to giggle again and walked to the opposite side of Harry. This time she did not use magic. Her appearance was enough to be treated favorably. She easily persuaded the two little lions to give up their positions. "Mr. Potter, you are so interesting."

"Can we get to know each other now?"

Hermione gritted her teeth: "Are all students at Beauxbatons so familiar?"

"French women are known for their straightforwardness." Fleur glanced at Hermione casually. She was also a very pretty girl, but she was still young and her figure was not as good as hers. She did not pose a threat. "The champion of Beauxbatons is probably me. You should be the champion of Hogwarts, too?"

"Ms. Maxime has specifically told you many times to ask Mr. Dumbledore to set a rule that outstanding students under the age of seventeen can participate in the competition with the professor's permission."

Harry said in a cold tone: "It's not time for the dust to settle yet."

"You have so little confidence in yourself?" Furong pressed on.

Hermione answered for him: "Harry can see the shining points in others. He is not so arrogant as to think that he is the best and to show off his charm like a peacock."

"Why not if you are charming?" Furong smiled and played with her hair. "Women who are charming and willing to show their charm are the most attractive. Miss, what is your name?"

"Granger." Hermione's tone was even colder than Harry's.

Furong sighed in disappointment, "Only one last name? I really want to call you by your name."

Ron stupidly continued: "My name is Ron Weasley, you can call me Ron."

"Or Little Ronnie," Fred suddenly interrupted. "That's the most intimate name."

"George!" Ron looked over with a grin.

"That's Fred," Harry reminded kindly.

Fleur covered her mouth and chuckled: "You guys are so funny, can I be your friend?" When she said "you guys", her eyes were always on Harry.

Hermione wondered how to start.

Harry tapped the table. "My advice is to shut up. Mr. Dumbledore is about to speak."

In the teachers' seats, Maxim and Karkaroff had already taken their seats, the latter sitting next to Snape. Only Dumbledore was still standing.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen." Dumbledore greeted with a smile.

Nearly Headless Nick flew high into the air, playing with his nearly-missing head.

"Oh, yes, there are ghosts as well." Dumbledore nodded kindly, "and distinguished guests who have come from afar!"

"I guess everyone hasn't had dinner yet, so I won't waste any more time talking nonsense. Let's eat!"

After saying this, he sat down immediately.

Food suddenly appeared on the plate. These were some uncommon dishes that could only be seen when Ron or some Hufflepuffs who were good at eating went to the kitchen to order food.

Fleur looked at Dumbledore in surprise. "Is he always so brief?"

Ron nodded. "Mr. Dumbledore has never been one to talk much before dinner."

Fleur picked up the knife and fork, feeling a little overwhelmed. That was a great opportunity just now, but it was interrupted by Dumbledore's two meaningless words. If she missed that moment, it would be difficult to say such words again.

Hermione tilted her head and hummed a little tune she had learned from the Sorting Hat.

Let Furong grit her teeth.

In the first round of confrontation, I had all the advantages, but in the end I still lost.

"Harry, I heard that you cut off one of the professor's arms last semester?" Fleur asked casually.

"Please call me Potter," Harry responded to her, "and, Beauxbatons likes to hear rumors?"

"That professor is missing an arm." Fleur raised her head and looked at Snape.

Snape was very observant and almost immediately noticed Fleur's gaze, which was sharp and full of malice.

Furong shuddered, "Your professor is a bit fierce."

"You should be glad you're not a student at Hogwarts." Hermione snickered.

Furong said "hmm" in confusion, "Why?"

"Professor Snape is an excellent potion master." Hermione subconsciously imitated Harry's cold tone, "He strives for perfection in potions, and you happen to be the type of person he likes to scold the most."

There is a lot of tension between the two of them.

Except for Ron who was immersed in the food, the little wizards around him all found that something was wrong.

They exchanged sharp words back and forth.

Furong was at a disadvantage.

Although her words were sharp, they were far inferior to Hermione, who had been influenced by Harry and Snape.

Neville looked at Fleur pitifully.

Do you really have to compete with the little lioness of Gryffindor in terms of venomous tongue?

The dinner lasted for more than an hour, and they also criticized each other for an hour.

Wait until the last dessert is removed.

Dumbledore stood up again: "Is everyone full and satisfied? Then we should get down to business. This exciting moment has finally arrived."

"After more than a century, the Triwizard Tournament is finally about to begin again. I think I need to explain a few things before bringing in the cup."

"But before I explain the schedule for the entire school year, I must solemnly introduce two guests from the Ministry of Magic to everyone."

He waved lightly and pointed at a person, who immediately stood up. "Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Sports and Physical Education. He has made great contributions to the reopening of the Triwizard Tournament."

Ludo greeted them cheerfully.

Dumbledore then pointed to another person and said, "I think everyone has heard the sad news. Mr. Barty Crouch, Director of the International Cooperation Department of the Ministry of Magic, passed away unexpectedly, so the Ministry of Magic sent Ms. Dolores Umbridge to take over..."

"It's Professor Dumbledore, the Senior Undersecretary of the Ministry of Magic." The short woman in a pink coat with a broad, open-jawed face stood up and interrupted Dumbledore in a shrill voice.

Dumbledore paused, looked at her, and then continued, "The Ministry of Magic has sent Madam Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary of State, to replace Mr. Barty Crouch."

"The two of them, together with the principals of our three schools, will form the refereeing panel for the Triwizard Tournament and will make the most fair judgment for each warrior."

Dumbledore waved his wand gently, and the decorations in front of the teacher's seat flew away, revealing a large open space. He tapped again, and a square podium appeared out of thin air.

"The Ministry of Magic has made a lot of preparations for the Triwizard Tournament. Throughout the school year, the warriors will go through three projects to test their abilities in different aspects: magic, combat, reasoning, and courage..."

The Gryffindors burst into laughter.

The students of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons were confused.

Each of these words was addressed to Harry.

Dumbledore also smiled. "As for the selection of the champions that you are most concerned about, it is not selected by professors or students, but by the most impartial magical item. Mr. Filch, bring up the box."

Filch excitedly dragged over a jewel-encrusted, antique wooden box and gently placed it on the podium.

Dumbledore walked over, raised his wand, and tapped the lid of the wooden box three times.

Crunch. Crunch.

The wooden box was opened with great effort, then extended and rose, surging into a high platform, holding up a crudely made wooden cup, with a faint blue-white flame dancing in the cup.

"This magical item is the Goblet of Fire." Dumbledore continued to introduce, "Every student who wants to become a warrior can put a piece of paper with his or her name and the name of the school into the Goblet of Fire within 24 hours. Tomorrow night, it will select the student who it thinks best represents the three schools to become a warrior."

“It will always be here and all students will have access to it.”

Students from the three schools were eager to try.

Dumbledore waved his wand, and white threads fell from the tip of the wand, circling the podium and forming a circle: "I know you have been preparing for two months, but I still have to emphasize it again."

"The Triwizard Tournament is no joke. I hope you will think carefully before you commit your name."

"And students under the age of seventeen cannot submit notes. I have cast a spell to ensure that students under the age of seventeen cannot pass. Those students who have obtained permission from the dean should not panic. I will not break my promise. Prepare your notes and the professor will deliver them for you."

"Think about it now, or prepare yourself well. Once your name is submitted, it will be a contract, and there will be no chance to regret it."

"Okay, it's getting late now, everyone should get some rest. After all, we still have 24 hours, right?"

The students of Durmstrang stood up almost immediately. They took out the papers they had prepared long ago and walked to the Goblet of Fire. Led by Krum, they put the papers representing their names into the Goblet of Fire one by one.

Fleur also stood up: "Harry, do you want to join us?"

"Please call me Potter," Harry emphasized again.

Hermione deadpanned, "Harry is only fourteen, but he's not as old as seventeen."

Furong's face froze for a while before she smiled sweetly, "Miss Granger, seventeen is the most beautiful and beautiful adolescence."

She walked quickly to the Goblet of Fire and threw in the paper without hesitation.

Professor McGonagall was afraid that Harry would go back on his word, so she stood up with the three notes in her hand, walked to the Goblet of Fire, and threw the three notes into the Goblet impatiently.

There was no need to look at the name on the note, all the young wizards in Hogwarts knew whose name was written on it.

George, Fred, and Harry Potter.

At the Hufflepuff table, Cedric took a deep breath. He had originally planned to submit his name tomorrow morning, but...

He turned and gave Harry a long look.

He took out the parchment and quill, wrote his name, carefully tore it off, walked to the Goblet of Fire with heavy steps, and threw the note firmly.

Even though he knew the chances were slim, he still wanted to give it a try.

Hufflepuffs are not without courage.