Ch367- Bets
Ch367- Bets
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Hey everyone! If you're enjoying my writing, you might want to check out my new novel:
Bat to the Future: The Other Midoriya
If you like smartass protagonists, chaotic energy, and a bat-wielding menace causing problems for heroes and villains alike, then this one's for you! Expect the same sharp humor, intense fights, and questionable life choices—because what's a Midoriya without a little trouble?
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As Harry got up, the Slytherins, along with his friends from other houses, stood in a silent, unified gesture and followed him out of the Great Hall. The other students in the room exchanged confused glances, whispering theories as they watched the large group leave together. By the time Harry had reached the Slytherin common room, the atmosphere among his friends had already shifted from tense silence to open curiosity.
The Slytherins and a handful of others settled themselves in various corners of the room. Daphne and Tracey wasted no time making their way to Harry, plopping onto the sofa beside him. Daphne crossed her legs elegantly, while Tracey wasted no time in poking Harry’s side, smirking.
“We called it!” Tracey announced, grinning at him. “We knew you would somehow manage to get into the tournament. Didn’t we, Daphne?”
Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling sharply. "Can we be serious for a moment? This is dangerous. Did the Headmaster say anything about your double entrance?"
Fred and George grinned in unison. "Double entrance, double trouble."
Harry rolled his eyes. "One reward, fame and glory."
"Technically, that’s three rewards," Tracey pointed out, stealing a cushion from the sofa and hugging it to her chest.
Daphne shot her a look. "Not the point." She turned to Harry, "Did they give you any details? Is it two sets of tasks? Two scores? How does this work?"
Harry leaned back, "They don’t know. Apparently, there’s no precedent for one person being chosen twice, so they’re making it up as they go."
Blaise snorted. "Brilliant. Hogwarts is flying blind while you get to be their test subject. Sounds about right."
Hermione looked unimpressed. "This isn’t a joke," she insisted, her eyes flickering between them. "If the Goblet selected you twice, that means the magic sees two separate champions. That could mean twice the danger."
"At least make it twice the prize money," George said optimistically.
Fred nodded. "Which is, frankly, the more important detail."
Hermione groaned. "Will you two shut up about money for one second?"
"Never," they said at the same time.
Harry ignored them, "Dumbledore and the others had their hands full with Karkaroff and Maxime throwing fits. They weren’t interested in details beyond the fact that I have to compete."
Draco, who had been watching the conversation with mild amusement, finally spoke. "So, let me get this straight. You’re now the official Hogwarts champion... and the other Hogwarts champion?"
"Exactly," Harry replied.
Draco let out a low whistle. "That is a new level of Potter-brand insanity."
Neville frowned. "But how did it even happen? We all saw the Age Line. You didn’t put your name in, and no one from our group could’ve done it either. That leaves—"
"Someone wants Harry dead," Susan finished grimly.
The room quieted slightly, the weight of her words settling over them.
Hermione raised a hand, her tone sharp. "Let's not throw names around. This is a serious accusation."
Luna, however, didn’t hesitate. "Moody," they said at the same time.
Harry snorted. He wasn't even surprised.
“Mad-Eye?” Blaise raised a brow, leaning back in his chair. “I mean, sure, he looks like he’d do something insane, but why would he bother throwing Harry in?”
"Because he's paranoid and completely unhinged and Harry stole his show?" Tracey offered.
Daphne hummed, tilting her head. "More likely he wouldd accuse Harry of doing it himself. He doesn’t strike me as the type to sneak around setting people up."
Others chimed in with their own theories.
“Karkaroff,” Theodore said immediately. “He is intimidated by you, Harry.”
Madam Maxime’s name got thrown in too, though no one had a solid reason beyond her dramatics earlier. Astoria, lounging in a corner, contributed, “Snape,” in an utterly bored tone.
Pansy rolled her eyes. “Oh, come off it, Astoria. Just because you want Potions canceled doesn’t mean Snape is guilty.”
"Still a possibility," she said with a shrug.
Fred and George grinned at each other before Fred said, “Filch.”
George nodded sagely. “Clearly, he’s had enough of the school and wants a front-row seat to the madness.”
"Obviously," Harry deadpanned.
Susan, who had been quiet up until now, exhaled through her nose. "Whoever did it, they knew exactly what they were doing. The Goblet’s magic is binding. Someone wanted to make sure Harry had no way out."
Hannah frowned. “Couldn’t Dumbledore have stopped it?”
“Harry said, Headmaster said it was against the rules,” Hermione replied.
"Typical," Blaise muttered.
Neville shifted uncomfortably. "Do you think this is connected to You-Know-Who?"
Silence fell over the room for a moment. It was one thing to joke about Snape or Filch sneaking Harry into the tournament, but Voldemort was a different conversation altogether.
"It has to be," Hermione said eventually, her expression troubled. "Who else would go through the trouble of forcing Harry into a dangerous competition he can’t refuse?"
Ginny crossed her arms. "But why? If You-Know-Who wanted Harry dead, there are easier ways."
"Not necessarily," Harry said. "He’s a coward. He wouldn't come at me directly—not yet, anyway. He likes plans, traps. If he’s behind this, he’s got something waiting at the end of this tournament."
“Like what?” Daphne asked.
Harry shook his head. "No idea. But that’s why I’m staying in."
Tracey threw up her hands. "Like you had a choice?"
Harry smirked. "Exactly. So there’s no point whining about it. If I’m stuck in this, I might as well use it."
Hermione sighed, rubbing her temples. "Just promise me you’ll be careful. If this is You-Know-Who’s doing, we don’t know what kind of traps he’s set up."
Harry didn’t bother promising anything.
"Alright," Draco said, breaking the tension. "Since Potter is officially competing, we should start making bets."
That got everyone's attention.
"Bets?" Neville asked warily.
"Obviously," Draco said, as if it were the most logical thing in the world. "Potter’s competing twice. That means double the opportunity to make money."
"You’re disgusting," Hermione muttered.
"I prefer the term ‘entrepreneurial,’" Draco corrected smoothly.
Tracey, clearly entertained, leaned forward. "So, what are we betting on?"
"How long until he dies?" Theodore suggested.
"Funny," Harry drawled.
"Whether he wins both entries," Daphne said, more practically. "If the Goblet sees him as two separate champions, will it count as two victories?"
That was an interesting thought. Harry hadn’t considered it.
“Are we ignoring the fact that he has to survive for that to happen?” Susan asked incredulously.
“Oh, he’ll be fine,” Fred said. “It’s Harry.”
Ginny frowned. “That’s not reassuring.”
“Of course it is,” George countered. “When has he ever lost?”
Hermione made a strangled noise. “HE’S NEVER COMPETED IN A LIFE-THREATENING TOURNAMENT BEFORE.”
“Minor detail,” Fred said, waving her off.
Harry rolled his eyes, standing up. “I’m going to bed.”
“Aw, come on,” Blaise said. “We haven’t even decided the odds yet.”
Harry pulled a heavy pouch of gold from seemingly nowhere and dropped it onto the table with a dull thud. "I bet on myself. Both of my entries will tie for first place in the first tasks, first and second places in the second task and obviously, I'll win the tournament."
The room was silent for a beat before Tracey let out a laugh. “Of course, you would. Cocky much?”
Draco, who had been leaning back in his chair with an amused expression, straightened slightly. “Hold on, that’s actually a good bet. If the Goblet sees your two entries as separate, it might be scoring them separately too. Meaning, you could technically compete against yourself.”
"Which is why," Harry said, nudging the bag forward, "I expect good odds."
Fred and George exchanged a glance, then simultaneously grabbed for the pouch. George managed to get his hands on it first, weighing it with an approving nod. “Alright, Potter. We’ll set the odds. House rules.”
Fred grinned. “No refunds, no complaints, and absolutely no whining when we take all your money.”
Harry smirked. “You won’t. But sure.”
Daphne rolled her eyes. “You’re all ridiculous.”
“More like profitable,” Blaise corrected. “Though I’ll admit, Potter betting on himself does make things interesting.”
“I would say foolish,” Pansy interjected. “You’ve effectively raised the stakes against yourself. If you don’t place first in both tasks, you lose.”
Harry just shrugged. “I won’t lose.”
Susan, who had been watching the whole exchange with mild disbelief, shook her head. “I should not be surprised. You could be staring down a Basilisk, and you would still be placing bets.”
Harry gave her a flat look. “That’s a bad example. I did stare down a Basilisk.”
"Exactly," Susan said, exasperated. “Proving my point. Wait, when did you?”
The conversation shifted as Fred and George began loudly strategizing potential betting pools, drawing in a handful of other interested students. Harry let them handle it, already knowing they would run the whole thing efficiently. He stood for a second, watching as the room filled with discussions on odds, potential winnings, and wild theories about how the tournament would play out.
As Harry was about to leave for his dorm, Luna caught his sleeve, tilting her head. “When did you encounter a basilisk? And why didn’t you call me?”
Harry barely stopped himself from sighing. He couldn’t exactly say, Oh, it’s in the school's basement. That would open up too many questions, and most people weren’t as relaxed as Luna when it came to thousand-year-old magical serpents.
“It was back in second year,” he said, keeping it vague. “Didn’t exactly have time to send invitations.”
Luna nodded as if that was a reasonable excuse. “That’s fair. But next time, do let me know. I would love to meet one.”
Across the room, Daphne stared. “You want to meet a basilisk?”
Luna blinked at her. “Why wouldn’t I? They’re fascinating creatures.”
Tracey muttered, “Right. Completely normal hobby.”
Harry, deciding this was as good a time as any to escape, turned toward the boys' dormitory. “Goodnight,” he called over his shoulder.
--
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