Draco Malfoy and the Goblet of Fire
"Maybe he'll tell us we're allowed to play Quidditch again."
"Yeah, I mean, it's the one year Victor Krum is actually at our school, and you know he'd play for us …"
"Don't be stupid, Goyle," Draco snapped. "He'd play for Durmstrang. And besides, we've never needed Krum's help to beat Potter and his cronies anyway."
The rest of the team chattered behind him as they wound their way up to the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore had announced the cancellation of the Inter-House Quidditch Cup at the fall welcome feast, but they had all hoped to at least be able to continue practicing. However, tomorrow classes would be starting for the spring term and the teams still hadn't gotten to so much as pick up their broomsticks. The lack of access to the fields over the past semester had led to the conclusion that there wouldn't be any Quidditch at all this year, and you'd have thought it was the second Inquisition from the way the rest of the Slytherins had ranted about it. At first Draco had been displeased as well, but in the grand scheme of things missing a few matches was a small price to pay for witnessing Potter's very public and inevitable humiliation in the Triwizard Tournament.
Today Dumbledore had called a meeting of all the teams, though, so maybe their whining had been in vain. Why would he call them together if not to reveal that the Quidditch Cup was back on? They were the last ones to arrive at Dumbledore's office. The Gryffindor team glared at them as they filed in, but Draco just sneered at their pathetic attempt at intimidation. It was so typical, Gryffindors couldn't even glare properly.
"Since all house teams are now in attendance, let us begin," Professor Dumbledore announced. "As you know, due to the Triwizard Tournament there is to be no Inter-House Quidditch Cup. In fact, because the grounds must be transformed to accommodate the tournament, there will be no Quidditch of any kind at Hogwarts."
Disgruntled mutters broke out across the room but dissipated quickly as he continued.
"I realize that this has been a great disappointment to you all, and most especially to the seventh years. However, in recognition of your sacrifice, the other headmasters, Mr. Bagman, and I have decided to hold a special public Triwizard Quidditch Championship in the Quidditch World Cup Stadium following the close of the academic term."
Excited whispering erupted amongst the teams, and one idiot, probably a Gryffindor, even let out a loud "Whoop!" A Quidditch championship in the World Cup stadium? It was far better than Draco could have hoped. He would still get to watch Potter self-destruct in front of the school at the Triwizard Tournament, and then would get to fly circles around him in front of the rest of the wizarding world. Of course, that was assuming Potter could even still ride a broom after the next two Triwizard Tasks… Dumbledore raised his hands for silence and the noise died down once more.
"Each school will be represented by one team, so over the next weeks, house captains must draw up a short list of players who they believe would be worthy of representing Hogwarts, and Madame Hooch and I will make all final team decisions. In exchange for the opportunity to participate in this unique sporting event, we would like you to assist Hagrid and Mr. Filch with preparations for the upcoming Triwizard tasks over the next few months. Are there any objections to these arrangements?" He paused and glanced around at the students. "Judging by your eager expressions, I take it there are none. In that case, good luck to you all with the start of the new term! For further team arrangements, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, please report to Mr. Filch's office. Hufflepuff and Slytherin, Hagrid will be expecting you near the forbidden forest."
Draco groaned. His chances of being chosen as Hogwarts Seeker over "golden boy" Diggory and Dumbledore's pet were about as big as a doxie's toenail. On top of that, he'd have to spend the next semester following the hazardous whims of that reckless oaf of a giant. Potter's long-awaited downfall was growing more costly by the minute.
Malcolm showed Cedric the article about Hagrid on the way down from Charms.
"Pretty crazy, huh? I wonder if this means we still have to spend every other Sunday in that dodgy forest?"
Cedric shrugged noncommittally while scanning the paper. He wasn't exactly surprised by the news; after all, Hagrid was practically ten feet tall. It must have taken an immense amount of resolve and dedication for a half-giant to become gamekeeper at Hogwarts, and Cedric sincerely hoped this sensational expose wouldn't jeopardize his position. Then again, he had heard disturbing reports from the third years in Care of Magical Creatures about what seemed to be very lax safety precautions in that class… Regardless, Hagrid's family background was really nobody's business but his own.
Malcolm brought up a good point though, what were they supposed to do about the Sunday meetings? They arrived at the familiar kitchen corridor and Malcolm tapped out the secret rhythm onto the barrels disguising the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room. Cedric dropped into a plush armchair, shoved the newspaper into his bag, and took out his copy of Advanced Potion Making to get an idea of what they might be covering that day, when Herbert came bustling through the door.
"Hey, Ced, Malcolm. Boy, Charms was rough, wasn't it? I just kept looking out the window and picturing blocking Quaffles left and right in that giant stadium."
"Blocking Quaffles? You'd barely get to see many Quaffles, much less block them, thanks to all those Chasers I'd knock out with my Bludgers!" piped up Michael from a seat in the corner.
"Michael, you were a substitute last year," retorted Malcolm. "I'm sure Ced's going to pick more seasoned players for the Hogwarts team, right Ced?"
"Look, you're all talented players, and you know I would nominate all of you if I could-"
"Yeah, too bad you can't. The newbies like Mikey will be crushed," interrupted Herbert, playfully ruffling Michael's hair. Michael whacked him in the arm with the book he'd been reading.
"Leave Ced alone guys," rejoined Tamsin, descending from the girls' dormitories. "He has enough to worry about without you lot pestering him."
"Nice, Tammy, try to win a spot on the ballot by being a team-player..."
The Hufflepuff teammembers continued to quarrel lightheartedly as Cedric stared into the fireplace, worried about how long their lightheartedness would last. He knew there was truth behind their banter, and soon there would be real dissension among his friends. He dreaded the unavoidable disappointment he would cause those not chosen. Maybe he really could just nominate the entire team. True, Tamsin wasn't the most accurate Chaser, and Michael could stand to be more aggressive as Beater, but he had improved dramatically during last season, and she really was great at bolstering team spirit... He wondered if Madame Hooch would take character into consideration. Probably not.
Cedric sighed. He didn't want to think about any of it. And some students were still wearing those obnoxious buttons from last term, which just made everything worse. The school support was great, but every time he saw those glowing red letters he was reminded of how unprepared he was to face the second task. Plus he really wished they would leave off insulting Harry. No matter what the truth was about his dubious entry into the tournament, he'd been considerate enough to warn Cedric about the dragons, and had managed to perform admirably in the first task despite his young age and clear inexperience. The buttons were in poor taste. Cedric would have to ask the Hufflepuffs to stop wearing them, again. Maybe he'd talk to the Ravenclaws and Slytherins as well.
A bell rang signalling the end of break. The team's conversation had shifted from Quidditch to the article about Hagrid, so he joined their lively discussion as they hurried out of the common room to their next class. The distraction from his concerns was a welcome relief.
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