Chapter 405 Who's Conspiracy

Chapter 405 Who's Conspiracy

However, Madame Maxime had already put her arms around Furong and quickly left the room. Harry could also hear them talking in French on the way.

Karkaroff also greeted Krum and walked out without saying a word.

"Okay." Dumbledore smiled. "It's very late, Harry, Cedric, go back to bed first."

"However, I guess the Gryffindor students, and Hufflepuff's classmates, are waiting for you to go back, and they are waiting for you to go back and celebrate. They have a rare opportunity to make a big noise and take the It's not right to take their fun."

Harry and Cedric looked at each other a little, nodded, and walked out of the room together.

Everyone in the auditorium was empty, the candles were about to burn out, and the flames were dim and flickering. Those grinning jack-o-lanterns all seemed to flicker and be weird.

"Looks like we've become rivals again." Cedric smiled reluctantly.

"You are still a warrior at Hogwarts, whether we win or lose, we still have one more choice, don't we?" Harry said calmly.

It wasn't until he had just stepped out of the sultry, cramped room, until the cool breeze from the hallway blew into the auditorium down the oak door, blowing away the heat from Harry's body. Only then did he clearly understand what he had just done.

He fought in front of a group of arrogant, aloof adults. He showed his existence and expressed his opinion in front of a group of high-level forces in the magic world, which seemed to be a good feeling.

They walked to the foyer, and as the hallway was about to part, Cedric finally couldn't hold back and asked, "Really, didn't you put your name in?"

"Of course, like I said, I didn't plan to play." Harry said in a solemn tone, "If it was me, I would admit it."

"Okay." Cedric said suspiciously, "Then see you tomorrow."

Harry didn't care about Cedric's opinion. Hermione, Ron, and George already believed in him. As for the others, who cares about them, who cares about them.

Maybe everyone thought he signed up himself, but so what, this was his fourth year at Hogwarts. To be honest, it's a little embarrassing, but it's the truth. Except for his classmates in Gryffindor, no other college students can recognize it.

This is a very embarrassing thing,

After all, there are not many people in the whole school, and the number of people in one grade is even more pitiful. But that's it, everyone didn't talk much, even if I heard the teacher mention each other's name several times, but who would remember who.

In comparison, he has to think about something more important, as he said in that room. It wasn't his own name, but someone framed him. Who would this person be? Who would Dumbledore, Karkaroff, or even Snape, or Professor Moody?

In addition to having to figure this out, he also needs to think about those dangerous games. In the old Triwizard Tournament, most of the contestants would die.

Of course, there may be exceptions this time, they have made more restrictions and made more protections. But no matter what, for the Triwizard Tournament, the death of one of the four contestants is not considered a serious accident. But for the contestants themselves, this must not be taken lightly.

He even thought about Voldemort again, maybe Voldemort had come back to life. If this is Voldemort's conspiracy, what does he want to achieve, and when will he take action.

In a whimper, Harry unknowingly came to the portrait of the Fat Lady. At this time, there was already a witch in the portrait of the fat lady, a wrinkled witch that she had seen in that small room.

The witch sat proudly beside the fat lady, and both she and the fat lady looked at him with interest.

"Okay, that's pretty good." The fat lady said excitedly, "Violet told me everything, you became not only a warrior, but also a special individual contestant, which is unique."

"It's not my will," Harry said flatly, "I'm going first, the password is nonsense."

"Well, I hope you are happy." The fat lady looked at Harry kindly, then turned the hole and let Harry go back to the common room.

When the portrait was opened, the tumult and cheers hit Harry head-on, nearly knocking him down as he crawled through the hole, before he was dragged into the common room by a dozen hands.

The students of Gryffindor House screamed, cheered, whistled, and learned to howl.

"You should have told us you'd sign up." Fred's deafening voice rang in Harry's ears, his face mixed with excitement and anger.

"How did you get past that age line?" George shouted impatiently.

"I didn't do it," Harry replied quickly. "Someone put my name in there."

Angelina pushed over and said excitedly, "Although the warrior is not me, at least I am a member of Gryffindor. Our academy will not be absent from such a grand show."

"You can take revenge on Cedric at the game, Harry," Katie Bell said sharply.

"Come here, Harry, we need to celebrate, we have a champion in Gryffindor."

"Thank you, I'm not hungry, I'm full at the banquet——"

Nobody wanted to hear him say he wasn't hungry, nobody wanted to hear him say he didn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire, and nobody cared if he wanted to celebrate.

From nowhere, Lee Jordan turned up a Gryffindor House flag, and he insisted on wrapping the flag around Harry like a cloak, and everyone booed about it.

Harry couldn't leave, he wanted to get away, to sneak away. But no matter which direction he went, he was surrounded by the crowd and squeezed back.

The classmates surrounded him, forced him to drink another beer, and shoved peanuts and biscuits into his hands.

Everyone is passionate, but everyone is only passionate about what they want to know. They surrounded Harry and kept asking, wondering how he had tricked the age line, how he had put his name into the Goblet of Fire.

"I don't know," Harry repeated over and over. "I didn't put my name into the Goblet of Fire."

No one believed what he said, they just thought he didn't want to say it, so they asked more enthusiastically.

"Oh, I'm tired." After about half an hour, he finally couldn't take it anymore, and he shouted, "I'm having a hard time, sorry, I'm going to bed."

(To be continued.)