Tom, like the rest of the school, had craned his head to get a look at Potter when Dippet had mentioned him whilst introducing the tournament. He appeared to be hiding his face behind his goblet, cheeks red as a tomato. Tom had wanted to jump down the table and shake him for information right then and there. How did one get selected for the tournament? How could Tom better his chances? What were the tasks like, and how did one win? Tom’s blood felt alight with excitement, his magic fluttering at his fingertips.