The sumptuous Great Hall was, as usual, comfortably warm and cozy, the floating candles hovering over each table flickering merrily. The buzz of chattering students reverberated off the ancient stone of the castle, and here and there a ghost could be seen floating along. Rosie looked up at the storming enchanted ceiling with a smile. It was her favorite aspect of the Great Hall.
"Please be seated!" called Professor McGonagall's clear, sharp voice to the four of them.
"See you later, Daisy," Fred waved, offering one last grin as he took a seat next to George and Lee at the Gryffindor table. Rosie waved after him, hiding her disappointment with a smile as she plopped down at the end of the Ravenclaw table.
"Finally making some headway with him?" whispered Rosie's close friend, Meredith Langley.
"Bollocks I am," Rosie replied miserably.
"Oh, come off it," Meredith scoffed, brushing aside a strand of her ruler straight blonde hair. "All you've got to do is loosen up a bit. They're the notorious Weasely twins after all. You can't be afraid to break rules and still expect to win Fred over.
Rosie bit her lip. "I know, but… breaking rules just isn't me, you know?"
Meredith cocked an eyebrow. "Then what was the point of last year? Remember the hours we spent in the library looking up how to—?"
"Shh!" Rosie hissed. "It was only because of the accident!"
"And because Lawrence suggested it to keep you safe," Meredith reminded her. "He saved you, remember? Plus," she added with a grin, "I bet you were dying to figure it out."
Rosie shifted uncomfortably. True, she'd always wondered what it would be like, but it was not until that near death experience that she had decided to break the rules and go through with it, illegally no less. It had been extremely difficult, with more than its fair share of painful setbacks, but with the help of Meredith and Lawrence, she had finally succeeded.
McGonagall's voice rang out, sharp and clear, signaling the hall to quiet down. She led a terrified group of soaking wet first years to one side of the Hall, carrying an ancient, patched and dirty frayed hat to a stool. The Sorting was about to begin.
As each name was called and the students were Sorted, each House table exploded in cheers, cat calls and whistles. Rosie cheered along with the rest of her House whenever a Ravenclaw was added, but her eyes never left the Gryffindor table. Fred and George were surreptitiously poking their wands at pieces of parchment in their laps, which folded into airplanes as their wands made contact with them. Rosie smiled. Whatever they were up to, it wasn't anything good. In fact, she was so absorbed in watching the pair that Meredith had to elbow her in the ribs before she noticed the feast had started. Her stomach rumbled as she remembered how hungry she was, so Rosie tucked in eagerly.
When the feast was ended, Dumbledore stood, beaming at the students. He went through the usual start of term rules and notices, but when he mentioned that there wouldn't be a Quidditch Cup, Rosie nearly toppled out of her seat. She loved Quidditch, and had been vying for a match since she had gotten in her first year as a Chaser. There was nothing like zooming all over the pitch with the Quaffle under her arm, dodging ironclad Bludgers and fending off opposing Chasers to reach the three golden hoops.
Suddenly the doors of the Great Hall flew open. A large man with a heavily scarred face and an electric blue eyeball stood framed in the storm that was raging behind him. As he made his way to the Professor's table, a clunking noise resounded in the Hall; if one were to look closely, they would have caught a glimpse of a wooden peg leg ending in a clawed foot peeking out of his cloak. Whispers permeated the air around him.
Mad-Eye Moody.
Dumbledore introduced him as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, going on to explain that the Triwizard Tournament was to be held at Hogwarts that year.
"You're JOKING," Fred said loudly. The Hall burst into laughter. As Dumbledore chuckled and continued on, Fred muttered to his twin, glancing up at Rosie and tossing her a knowing smile. One of the airplanes they had made turned invisible suddenly, and then Rosie felt a small gust of air stir her hair. She looked up at Fred questioningly, and he nodded to her. Smiling a bit nervously, she brushed the plane with her hand and it reappeared, so she opened it under the table as quietly as she could.
Meet us down in the kitchen at ten o'clock tomorrow night.
Mystified, Rosie looked up at Fred again for further explanation, but all he did was grin.