Year 1
Durmstrang
Theme: Hogwarts
Main prompt: 4). Triwizard Tournament - 1792 (last year before being reinstated) [Event]
Secondary prompts: 10). Thundering [Weather]
21). The Headmasters/mistresses Office [Location]
Words: 30
31 October 1792
It was a dark night at Hogwarts. The moon was behind the black clouds that have been gathering on the sky ever since the sunset had started.
And suddenly, in the utmost silence, a thunder was heard. And another one and again and again.
And water fell down like the skies were crying and the clouds were fighting on.
Near the Forbidden Forest, the lightning struck, like a flame on the ground. And in its place, in the pouring rain, a dark hooded figure could be seen.
The hood fell off in the face of the wind and dark hair and intense green eyes could be seen. And on his forehead a weird lighting scar could be observed. The air was cracking with atmospheric electricity. It thundering once again, the rain falling harder and this time, near the dark figure a trace of red hair could be seen.
"I never passed you as one for theatrics Harry, " they said.
"It wasn't my intention," he said simply.
"Sure. You just happened to come here at the same time as the lightning bolt. Please. That is not a coincidence. Anyway, we have work to do."
"I know," his voice darkened.
"I wish we wouldn't have to do this, Ginny."
The girl left out a sad sigh. Indeed, she wished it as well. But they didn't have a choice.
"We can't Harry. It's history. We have to intervene. We already did. In the future, this is the year that everything ended."
The man swore, thunder covering up for his not so nice choice of words.
"I know."
"And," the girl continued as if she hadn't heard him," they have been warned already; this is too dangerous. They are upsetting the balance with what they are doing. The Goblet has not been made to decide mere things like this. The death toll is growing every moment. Someone will pay and soon. They forgot our warnings, well, I'm afraid, we will just have to make them remember."
"Until they forget again," the man added bitterly. "Until they forget again."
The girl put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"I know."
It thundered again and the two of them were engulfed in lightning. If anyone would have looked up from the Headmasters office they would have seen dark shadows where the figure have stood. However, no one was there and no one noticed.
January 1792, Headmasters Office
"Are you sure that you want that Hogwarts to join the Tournament, Alfred?" Anisia Doyle, the deputy Headmistress asked her friend, who had been a Headmaster for about 4 years now.
"There would be no Tournament without Hogwarts, Anisia, and you know it. It's called the TriWizard Tournament for a reason."
"Yes, "the woman said, looking around the office at the shadows that were gathering behind his back, on the portraits, in the portraits, shadows that emanated danger and made her insides turn in fear. And she couldn't speak anymore. He was blind to them anyway.
"Yes and what my dear?" Alfred Antonios said.
But Anisia couldn't say anything else. The shadows seemed to shake their heads in her direction and warning her to stop or support the consequences. So she remained silent despite her wish to talk, to tell that the Tournament should never be ever again agreed upon by the three schools.
"Nothing." She then decided to change the subject.
"Would we still use the Goblet of Fire?" maybe, if they didn't...maybe everything would be alright.
The shadows kept coming closer, but this time, they said nothing.
"Of course," the young Headmaster answered," it always has been used, my dear. We cannot not use it. It's tradition and one we must uphold for the continuity of this wonderful competition."
Anisia could take no more. Cursing the shadows, she spoke.
"Wonderful? Alfred, people have died! Students of mere 12 years old have been killed, teachers in their prime! How can you say wonderful?! Please enlighten me! This is..this isn't you talking! It's the bureaucrat they made of you. You used to believe the same!" she cried, hands up in the air.
The man sighed.
"Things changed, Anisia. I am not a boy any longer. Yes, people died, but this is a wonderful opportunity for our students and then mix with the others from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. Now, excuse me, I will go to patrol the night off. You can stay here to finish your work. Afterwards I will go straight to my room so please close the door behind you."
With that he left, leaving her alone with the shadows.
Anisia wanted to shout and smash things. Why didn't he listen? Things were going to be extremely bad for Hogwarts.
"Indeed, they will be, "the shadows said coming to the light.
Outside, it started raining, thunder could be heard.
"He won't listen, please! You have to stop it!" she cried, tears on her face. She turned to look at the moon, but it wasn't there any longer, It was covered in black, dark, clouds.
"We told you he would not."
A man's voice said to her right. She turned and she saw dark-haired green eyed man, tall and looking very dangerous.
"Don't mind him," said a girl and Anisia turned again; this time the owner of the voice was a girl, maybe sixteen, seventeen years old, with flaming red hair. She was petite, but she looked as dangerous as the man; though her eyes held a note of mischief his eyes lacked.
"This task it's particular hard for him."
"I'm afraid I don't understand."
And she didn't. Ever since she had been little, Anisia had been different to other kids. Her mother had raised her in a small village in Scotland, near the forest. She had grown up knowing the ancient stories about Death, Fate and Time. Anisia knew they weren't mere inventions, they were real, they existed and if you wanted to live, you should not insult them.
The reapers, Death's men, always appeared in dark stormy nights like this one was. There was thunder and there was lightning and they were just there, in the shadows, they were the shadows.
She'd seen them in her village, each time someone died, they were there. Hand in hand. The boy and the girl. Green eyes and red hair, bringers of death.
Hogwarts was one place she hadn't expected to see them. Not in her first year at least. Who was going to die?
How wrong she'd been. It was the Tournament and they were doing it again this year. Someone else will die and Anisia wondered how many people will have to die for it to stop. For them not to any longer.
She'd followed them, after she'd seen families crying and children screaming for the third time. Why?
And they had told her. She wished they hadn't. But at the same time, she wondered what was worse not knowing or knowing and the fact that she could do nothing to stop it.
"You know that the Goblet of Fire hadn't been made for this, we told you."
Anisia bit back a sob.
" Yes, you said it had been made as a recognition for those who defied the Immortal Council, the one of Death, Fate and Time. A punishment. It can only be handled by higher beings. Not by mere humans, be it wizards."
"Indeed. Every touch, a death. Every name got out, a cursed person for eternity. The person who stole it and decided to use it here, sold his soul and put a curse on the competition. I'm afraid that this year it will grow through and then they will see the danger. But as always, they don't until it's not too late."
"Alfred Antonios will sign the act that will make Hogwarts participate. And people will die, I'm afraid."
Anisia couldn't help but cry.
" Why aren't you stopping it then! I know you can!"
"Indeed, "the man said."But we cannot. This already happened for us."
Anisia was speechless.
"Again, I do not understand."
"A name out, a person cursed. This is my curse. I became Death's man in this universe, in this life, Ginny has chosen to be with me so I'm not living it alone."
The young woman could only stare.
"What? That's...that's what happens with everyone that participated?"
The girl shook her head.
"We told you about the council, we told you that this universe is not the only one out there. The curse was altered because we are on that council in other parts of the universe."
"I see."
"It's not better for us, we kill people. We see their life going away, right in front of us. But there is no other tournament will end them all. But in over 200 years they will start it again. 1792, this year it ends. The Goblet will be abused for the last time before our time comes.
"I'm afraid we told you too much, Anisia."
"What? But.. I won't tell anyone."
"We know. But your mother knew too much too. It's better if sometimes, some things remain forgotten. And Anisia knew no more.
Months later, while watching how the winner died from his injuries and how Alfred was attacked by a rogue coactrice Anisia felt as something was lost to her, still there, but same time was not.