Tournament of Triumvirates
I. Entrance
The Great Hall held its breath as Professor Friedan, the Headmaster, announced the news.
Albus dared not to release his breath, in fear of diverting attention to himself. In his six years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he was sure that the Hall had never resonated such silence before.
A mere second later, as if the Hall had released its breath, the familiar buzz of excited chatter started among the students.
"Tournament?"
"'Reckon it will be like the Triwizard Tournament?"
"What's that, a tournament?"
"The one Harry Potter participated in!"
Friedan, with an amused twinkle in his eye, lifted his chalice and tapped its side with a spoon to get the Hall's attention.
"Attention, attention students! Before you all excitedly gossip between yourselves, there are still a few ground rules you must be familiar with."
Albus resisted a peek at his older brother James – a boy with rough, windswept hair and an attitude that defied the core of school rules. He wondered how James was going to take this "rules" nonsense. He was leaning against the table, propped up on an elbow, chin tilted towards the Headmaster's seat, and eyes alert at Friedan's next sentences, no doubt finding a loophole within them.
"This tournament – the Tournament of Triumvirates – will take place between the three magical schools of Europe: our dear Hogwarts, the lovely Beauxbatons Academy, and of course, the Durmstrang Institute. However, as similar as it is to the Triwizard Tournament, the Department of Magical Games and Sports and the magical schools have decided to make the competition more…friendly, I should say."
Albus raised his eyebrows, analyzing Friedan's declaration. It was obvious that the magical schools would never emulate the Triwizard Tournament ever again, due to the horrific results of the tournament of 1994, with Cedric Diggory's death. This will certainly be interesting, Albus mused.
"Instead of the three competitors representing each school, there shall be three trios competing against one another. Each trio shall be fairly represented by each school, carefully picked by the Goblet of Fire, creating an atmosphere of camaraderie and an environment for teamwork. Together, the prevailing triumvirate will be crowned the first ever champions of the Tournament of Triumvirates!" Friedan paused for effect, excitedly clapping his hands together.
"Well well, now, students! The other two magical schools shall arrive in two weeks' time. And oh yes, one final thing! Only students aged 16 and older will be allowed to sign up for participation."
Albus couldn't help but smirk at the dejected faces of the younger Gryffindors around him. Turning around in his seat, he locked eyes with James, who waggled his eyebrows suggestively towards his group Quidditch mates. Albus, however, had no intent on participating. Chess and Quidditch were probably the farthest he would ever get to competitive sports, and he certainly had other things on his mind…
He shot a glance at Catalina Wood, Ravenclaw's Chaser, on the other side of the Great Hall. Her attention, however, was shortly diverted by one of the Scamander twins. Scowling, Albus flipped his new school robes behind him and headed towards Gryffindor Tower.
On his way between the transitioning staircases, he heard a familiar voice next to his left ear. "What's got your knickers in such a twist, Potter?" He turned, seeing the jovial face of his best friend, Leon Finnegan.
"Nothing much, mate. Tired s'all."
"Tired? This is the most exciting news we've had since James Potter was dumped by Jessica O'Byrne!"
Albus couldn't help but burst into laughter at the memory of his older brother, the known playboy of Hogwarts, sitting disheartened by the Common Room's fireplace, eating chocolate ice cream after the flirty redhead dumped him for Ravenclaw's Seeker. "Served him right though, ain't it? After leading on all those birds…"
Leon chuckled alongside him. "Speaking of birds…how's that cousin of yours, Rose Weasley?"
Albus' head jerked up at the thought of his cousin. "Rose? What about her, Finnegan? She's on the other side of the English isles! Merlin's beard, you can't be into long-distance relationships?" He sent a hearty jab into Leon's side, in case he did get any funny ideas about his cousin, regardless if she was on the other side of the European continent.
"She transferred to Beauxbatons after our first year. Ya think she's coming in two weeks? Hey, maybe we could get quite friendly with those French mates of her!"
Completely disregarding the brilliance of Leon's suggestion (although Albus did mentally punch himself in the face for forgetting to mention that to his cousin), Albus leapt towards his dormitory, throwing apart his luggage to find a spare piece of parchment. He had not paused to think that Rose would be coming as a part of Beauxbatons.
The idea of it made him as excited as child on Christmas day – it had been so long since he had met Rose, one of his closest friends and favorite cousins (he'll never say that in front of Fred, though). Since Uncle Ron's promotion in the Ministry, the Granger-Weasleys had begun to take farther vacations in the summer. During Christmastime, Rose always enjoyed staying in France with her mates and reveling in the Parisian winter. As a result, it had been a record of almost two years since Albus had chatted face-to-face with his cousin.
He rummaged through his suitcase to find the later letters she had sent him. On it was Beauxbatons' address and her dorm number. He hurriedly numbered the parchment, wrote his message, and sent it off on his owl, Fallon.
Minutes later, only after Albus had finished cleaning up his mess and flopped onto his bed, did Leon pipe up, "Say, mate, did you ask Rose about any of her French friends."
Albus slapped his palm to his forehead and groaned.
Dearest Albus,
I am beyond ecstatic to say that I shall be coming to Hogwarts in two weeks time! It has truly been too long since I have been under that enchanted ceiling and spoken to my peers without all the 'Pardon' and 'Excusez-moi.'Send my love to the Wotters. And do tell James that if he asks me to introduce him to a French friend of mine, I will NOT do so.
Sincerely yours,
Rose
Two weeks full of exams, homework, and late night Quidditch practices flew by, and the atmosphere of Hogwarts was livelier than it was during the holidays. Strolling through the corridors, Al often caught fragments of poorly pronounced German coming from girls. Even in his dormitory, his mates were practicing a few phrases in French. Albus dared not try any of what he heard on his cousin, in fear that he might accidentally slip a sexual pun out (Finnegan began to integrate French innuendos in his daily conversations).
At six o'clock sharp, the students filed into the Great Hall following the House Prefects. Tonight, the ceiling was charmed to display more constellations than usual, and the candles wafted a homely vanilla scent.
Friedan was perched atop his podium, his graying beard neatly trimmed, and his robes a shimmery enchanted fabric that reflected dark red, blue, emerald, or gold depending on the viewer's angle. The Hall's whispers began to settle into a rich, attentive silence as the Headmaster raised his arms in emphasis with his proclamation.
"Students of Hogwarts!" he bellowed. "Let us give our full attention to the prestigious Durmstrang Institute as they make their grand entrance."
The wooden doors of the Great Hall swung open, and a musical fanfare marked the entrance of the Durmstrang students. Albus could not help but gape at their uniformity – the confident, sure strides of the students who commanded the magical orchestra, clad in dark velvet suits and dresses. They marched in time to the beat of the invisible drums, entering in a single file, lined like soldiers ready for battle.
Leon shot an impressed glance at Albus, who nodded, almost expecting the students to salute as the large form of the Durmstrang Headmaster stepped through the doors. Behind him was a procession of older students, clad in similar velvet uniform with fur capes proudly resting against their backs. The invisible orchestra had ceased playing and only the constant beat of the drum continued.
A familiar boy with pale angled features proceeded to make his way in front of the Headmaster. He transformed his wand into a long cane made of elm, earning surprised ooohs from the crowd. He continued to walk, thumping his cane in the rhythm of the drum, stopped, and launched the cane high into the air. Then, he vanished, and in his place, a boy with bright red hair under a fur cap caught the object.
The cavalcade continued in a uniform manner, as more students appeared, likewise transforming their wands into canes and performing various transfiguring spells. The Great Hall was transfixed by the magic of the Durmstrang students, yet Albus could not help but be distracted by the familiar pale figure early in the procession. He caught glimpses of the blonde boy who stood out among the darker coloring of his peers, yet there was something that Albus could not exactly pinpoint about him, as if he had seen him somewhere before.
Before Albus could determine who the boy was, he was interrupted by the applause that erupted around him. The Durmstrang students stood in filed lines facing Hogwarts with the fur-clad students, probably of equal rank as Prefects, at the head of the line.
As the applause died down, Friedan took the opportunity to clear his throat and introduce the Beauxbatons Academy.
Next to him on the table, Al felt Leon wedge an elbow against his side. He swiftly ignored his best friend's movement and let his eyes hover impatiently on the closed doors. Unlike the powerful entrance of Durmstrang, the Beauxbatons entered with poise and grace, commonly stereotyped with the French. An invisible orchestra of harps followed the ballet dancers, bursting gracefully through the wooden doors.
Out of the corner of his eye, Albus could see Leon and his fellow Gryffindor friends ogle the bottoms of the French girls, pirouetting down the aisles. He couldn't blame them, honestly; although the Beauxbatons wore high-collared long sleeve blouses, their short A-line blue skirts fluttered to reveal a lot of skin down there.
Albus quickly shook his head, reminded himself that these were Rose's classmates he was ogling, and hoped to Merlin that her skirt was nowhere near as scandalous.
It seemed that Merlin was not in his favor.
Behind the tall chic figure of the Headmistress, a familiar head of red hair peeked out from behind the signature blue Beauxbatons beret. Rose Weasley's hair, however, was in the best condition Albus had ever seen in his sixteen years of cousinhood with her. Gone were the frizzy locks which almost completely engulfed her small face; now, her voluminous ginger curls revealed a heart-shaped face with delicate features softly defined by the tools of makeup.
"Is that ROSE WEASLEY?" Albus heard an unmistakable bellow of surprise from his older brother, a few seats down. Apparently, the rest of the Great Hall had heard him too, and to no surprise, Rose blushed the infamous Weasley blush – although her cheeks now only tinged a slight pink.
Turning her attention back to the task at hand, Rose and several other blonde girls in berets began casting ribbons in tune with the harp. Rose waved her wand to add blue ribbons to the enchanted candles, flicking slightly at the end of her spell to leave behind a puff of glitter which the Hogwarts students enthusiastically reached towards.
The girls continued their procession down the aisle, now transforming the ribbons into butterflies in rhythm with the tune of Canon in D. To Albus' annoyance, Rose was still skipping around in that ridiculous Beauxbatons outfit. Even though she had a blue jacket clasped stylishly to her shoulder, unlike the other girls who only sported their blouse, Albus still felt an odd wave of protectiveness through his stomach as he saw his cousin's legs looked at a couple seconds longer than they should have by most of the male population in the Hall. Merlin, he bet even the Durmstrang Headmaster was ogling her.
Out of annoyance, Al turned his eyes towards the pale blonde boy who had earlier captured his attention. He narrowed his eyes as he continued to wrack his brain at the familiarity of the boy's face. When Friedan clapped his hands together, delivering his traditional dinner speech, Albus decided to turn his head away from the newcomers to give his head a break. He had begun to develop a slight headache after trying to keep up with the magic performed by their guests.
It was, after all, a good thing for poor Al to turn his head away from the front of the Hall. What he would've seen would have left him with a larger headache than what he had. In fact, he might have even burst a vessel if he had seen Scorpius Malfoy check out his cousin not once, but twice in front of the Great Hall, and her ears were red enough even halfway through dinner as proof of it.
A/N: I do not own Harry Potter. Crazy plot idea for a multichap in the middle of the night! Please review for my random stroke of creativity.