Even before entering the Headmaster's Office, Moody was already yelling.
"Dumbledore! Dumbledore!"
However, the Dripping Stone Beast at the door didn't open the door just because he was yelling Dumbledore, not even giving him a glance, just sitting there in a daze.
"Open the door!" Moody lowered his head to look at the Dripping Stone Beast.
"Password." The Dripping Stone Beast said expressionlessly.
"I don't know the password!" Moody shouted angrily, "There's a student in the school who can use the Killing Curse, I think I need to ask the Headmaster what he's doing!"
"Password." If the Dripping Stone Beast could show expressions, it would be speechless right now.
Guys, who understands this, so speechless.
No matter what urgent matters you have, even if someone set the school on fire, you need a password to enter the Hogwarts Headmaster's Office, right?
It's the rule!
But soon the door of the Headmaster's Office opened, and the Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge walked out with a peculiar expression on his face.
"Alastor." Fudge greeted Moody warmly upon seeing him.
Moody didn't speak, just nodded, acknowledging the greeting.
It seemed like Fudge was used to Moody's attitude, he didn't mind, just gave Moody a strange look and turned away as if he had something urgent to attend to.
Following the open door, Moody dragged Harry inside.
"Albus! Albus!"
They walked up the staircase and into the Headmaster's Office, where Dumbledore was sitting behind the desk as if pondering something.
Seeing Moody dragging Harry, Dumbledore snapped out of his thoughts.
"Oh, Alastor." He said with a smile, the blue eyes behind his half-moon glasses sparkling with wisdom, "What wind blew you here?"
"I need your attention," Moody turned back and gave Harry a fierce look, "Just now in class, this student could easily cast a Killing Curse, at a level no less than the Dark Lord—"
"Oh, I see." Dumbledore didn't seem surprised at all, he said with a smile, "So what do you think? Do you believe the Savior who defeated the Dark Lord would side with Voldemort and become a proud Death Eater?"
"Uh—"
This question is great, it's great because Moody couldn't answer.
"Or do you think he will become the new Dark Lord?" Dumbledore asked again.
"I have reasons to suspect!" Moody glared fiercely at Harry.
"Relax, Alastor." Dumbledore waved his hand casually, "You should know, it's easy for wizards to be born natural magic spell users—like I had a friend who was a naturally talented mind reader; perhaps because of that Killing Curse from Voldemort, Harry also became a natural master of the Killing Curse, after all, a philosopher once said, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger…"
Indeed, Dumbledore's rambling left Moody speechless.
He looked at Dumbledore, then at Harry.
Just as he was about to speak, he suddenly remembered something, reached into his pocket, and found it empty.
He glared at Harry angrily and said, "Anyway, I will keep a close eye on you, kid—even if you are Harry Potter!"
With that, he hobbled out of the Headmaster's Office.
"What's his problem?" Harry turned back to look at Dumbledore.
"You know," Dumbledore spread his hands, "After working as an Auror for many years, it's inevitable to develop some paranoia—overall, his retirement is a success. He occasionally causes some trouble, but these minor incidents don't happen often. However, ever since his retirement, he's become very suspicious. His Demon Eye is always vigilantly scanning the surroundings, and he only drinks water from his pink flask, afraid that someone might poison him—and he thinks all food is untrustworthy, even if it's cooked by his friends."
"PTSD?" Harry asked.
"Perhaps." Dumbledore smiled, then asked Harry, "So, Harry, since you're here, there's something I need your opinion on—do you want to participate in the Triwizard Tournament?"
Do I want to participate in the Triwizard Tournament?
Should I want to, or not want to?
After thinking for a moment, Harry decided to use the same excuse he gave his friends last time.
He extended his hand, placed one hand inside his coat, tilted his head up at a forty-five-degree angle, looking solemn and righteous.
"Although I do not seek glory, I take it upon myself to bring honor to the school; if it is everyone's wish, the only way to benefit the school is to become a warrior, then I can only take on the responsibility and completely set aside my self-interest."
Dumbledore: …
Alright, kid, so you're giving me a runaround, huh?
Those in the know would say you want to enter the Triwizard Tournament, those who don't might think you're running for Prime Minister of the United Kingdom.
"If that's the case, then I know." Dumbledore nodded, "Let's settle it that way, you'll represent the school in this Triwizard Tournament, okay?"
"Is that your decision?" Harry scratched his head and asked, "I thought there would be some… special process."
"Usually, that's how it is. The champion of each competing school is selected through a magic item called the Flame Cup, and each competing school is allowed one champion to represent them in the competition." Dumbledore explained, "Anyone wishing to become a champion must write their name and school on a piece of parchment and throw it into the Flame Cup. In a few days, the Flame Cup will expel the names of the three students it considers most qualified to represent each school."