Hmm, I'm still going, blah blah Disclamer is in part one, blah blah blah oh yeah, Tersila Snape
belongs to me, I think. oh yeah and i'm taking a lot of this chapter and subsequent chapters
directly from the book due to the fact that the presence of my new character doesn't change the
story at theose points.
Chapter 2 "Moody's Here"
"GRYFFENDOR"
The shout echoed off the walls in the great hall, managing to climb its way into every
one's ear. The hat came off of the small girl's head and she made her way to the
Gryffendor table, careful not to sit to close to anyone. The first years tried to talk
to her but she never looked at them or responded to their inquiries. She just kept
looking, staring more likely, at Professor Snape, who in turn was staring at her.
Dumbledore's voice rang out above the rumble of inquiries. "Have at it." And with the
last word, the food appeared on the table.
The student body joyfully dug in to the food and, like every year, enjoyed the abilities
of the house elves in the kitchens.
"Do you think she's really related to Professor Snape?" Hermione asked Ron and Harry,
just than Nearly Headless Nick popped his head through the table.
"How goes it my Gryffendors?" the ghost said in a stately but kind voice.
"Hermione was just wondering about the new fourth year girl, is she related to Snape?"
Ron asked before the other two.
"I don't know, this is the first anyone other than Albus has seen her. Maybe you
should talk to her." Nick gave the reply before floating off to some other students.
The trio just looked at each other than continued eating their food.
After the school quieted down from their massive food intake, Professor Dumbledore stood.
The action alone caused a blanket of silence only ignored by the howling of the wind and
the pounding of the rain. Mother Nature never pays attention to what man wants.
"Now that we've all been fed and watered," he gave a winning smile to the whole school, "I
must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices."
"Mr Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside
the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-Yos, Fanged Frisbees, and
Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven
items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."
Dumbledore's eyes gave a twinkle of mischief as he continued, "As ever, I would like to remind
you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of
Hogsmead to all below third year.
"It is also my painful duty to inform you tat the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place
this year."
A low murmur of disbelief spread through the school. Dumbledore continued, "This is due to an
event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up
much of the teachers' time and energy – but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I
have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts –"
Just at the moment the last words flew out of Dumbledore's mouth, the Thunder roared and the
doors at the entrance of the hall flew open with a loud thud as the vibrations from the thunder
were slowly falling away. Someone definitely had good timing.
A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak.
Every head in the Great Hall swivelled towards the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a
fork of lightning that forked across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of
grizzled, dark grey hair, then began to walk up toward the teacher's table.
A dull clunk echoed through the hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top
table, turned right and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightening light up
the room for a moment, and several gasps could be heard.
The flash of lightening had managed to throw the man's face into sharp relief. And it was a face
to startle any one. It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone
who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces are supposed to look like, and was none too
skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a
diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes that made
him frightening.
One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and vivid,
electric blue. The blue eye was moving carelessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down,
and then from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye–and then it rolled right over,
pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all they could see was whiteness.
The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face,
and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words no one could hear. He seemed to be making an
inquiry of the strange man. The man gave a shake of the head and quietly replied. Dumbledore
nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right hand side.
The man sat and ate with a paranoia that no student in the hall had ever seen before.
"May I introduce out new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Professor Dumbledore's
bright voice echoed through the silence. "Professor Moody."
It was unusual for a new staff member to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or
students clapped except Dumbledore and Hagrid, who both put their hands together and
applauded, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, a silence that even Mother Nature
seemed to agree to, and they stopped fairly quickly. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by
Moody's bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him. Everyone but one girl, the new
one, who still had her gaze transfixed on Professor Snape.
Dumbledore cleared his throat and that sound brought most of the student's attention back.
"As I was saying," he said with a smile, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very
exciting event over the coming mnths, an event that has not been held for over a century.
It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking
place at Hogwarts this year."
"You're JOKING!" said Fred Weasley loudly.
The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly
everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.
"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an
excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a
bar. . ."
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.
"Err – but maybe this is not the time . . .no. . ." Said Dumbledore, "where was I? Ah
yes, the Triwizard Tournament. . . well, some of you will not know that this tournament
involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation,
and allow their attention to wander freely.
"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a
friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts,
Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and
the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to
host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most
excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different
nationalities -- until, that is the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was
discontinued."
"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament,"
Dumbledore continues, "none of which has been very successful. However, our own
departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports
have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the
summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal
danger.
"The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed
contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at
Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to
compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of thier school and a thousand Galleons
personal prize money."
A low rumble started with many people telling friends that they will be the one to
get it and more than half the eyes in the crowd shined with the thought of winning.
Dumbledore spoke again and a quietness descended over the hall.
"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts,"
he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic,
have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students
who are of age, that is to say , seventeen years or older, will be aloud to put forward
their names for consideration. This" – Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for
several people had made noises of outrage at these words, "is a measure we feel is
necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous,
whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and
seventh hear will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no
underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts
champion." His light blue eyes tinkled as thy flickered over Fred's and George's
mutinous faces. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself
if you are under seventeen.
"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durstrang will be arriving in October and
Remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend
every courtesy to our foreign guests while thy are with us, and will give your whole-
hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now it
is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter
your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop Chop!"
As the Preficts led the first years to the dormitories, there was a great bustle of
people trying to both stare at the odd new professor and go back to their rooms for a
comfortable night's rest.
Tursila quietly followed the first years toward the Gryffindor tower when someone shouting
her name caused her to turn around. She saw a lively looking girl with bushy brown hair
and a bookish appearance coming towards her.
"Hi, my name's Hermione Granger, you're in my class, would you like me to show you where
we're staying?"
Tursila looked at Hermione for a few seconds before nodding her head in a unsure way.
Harry and Ron soon came up to Hermione and at seeing Tursila abruptly stopped.
"'Miony, what are you doing with her?" you could hear a thin thread of disgust in
his voice. Obviously he didn't like someone who had the chance of being related to
his most hated professor.
"Ron," Hermione barked back slightly angered by his tone of voice. "I'm showing Tursila
to the dormitories, and trying to be nice to someone who doesn't have any friends here.
How would you feel being taught by your parents until now than being forced here." her
voice was reprimanding.
Ron had the dignity to look ashamed by her reprimand and mumbled a "sorry Hermione"
Tursila watched the whole scene without making any sort of face. Harry, who had been
watching her, couldn't see any emotion on her face. 'Did she ever smile?' he wondered
to himself.
In a quiet voice he asked her, "Are you related to Professor Snape?"
She gave him a searching look then finally shrugged her shoulders as if to say that there
was no way anyone could know or say for sure.
"Well," Hermione's voice broke in, "shall we go?"
Tursila just nodded and waited for Hermione to take the lead. The way to the tower was
relatively quiet. Harry Ron and Hermione tried to ask more questions. Hermione was the
most vocal, asking things about classes and books, but every question was met with
silence. Soon the three gave up asking and started to talk amongst themselves.
Well, that's the end of this chapter, and sorry to say, no Tursila is not Severus's
daughter, but I will say Severus had a brother that he never knew about ;)
Now I must warn ya, this fiction is not going to end in anyway sweet and probably bloody.
sorry, but that's just me style, so as soon as i get to the later chapters, if I ever
do, than I'll have to up the rating.
belongs to me, I think. oh yeah and i'm taking a lot of this chapter and subsequent chapters
directly from the book due to the fact that the presence of my new character doesn't change the
story at theose points.
Chapter 2 "Moody's Here"
"GRYFFENDOR"
The shout echoed off the walls in the great hall, managing to climb its way into every
one's ear. The hat came off of the small girl's head and she made her way to the
Gryffendor table, careful not to sit to close to anyone. The first years tried to talk
to her but she never looked at them or responded to their inquiries. She just kept
looking, staring more likely, at Professor Snape, who in turn was staring at her.
Dumbledore's voice rang out above the rumble of inquiries. "Have at it." And with the
last word, the food appeared on the table.
The student body joyfully dug in to the food and, like every year, enjoyed the abilities
of the house elves in the kitchens.
"Do you think she's really related to Professor Snape?" Hermione asked Ron and Harry,
just than Nearly Headless Nick popped his head through the table.
"How goes it my Gryffendors?" the ghost said in a stately but kind voice.
"Hermione was just wondering about the new fourth year girl, is she related to Snape?"
Ron asked before the other two.
"I don't know, this is the first anyone other than Albus has seen her. Maybe you
should talk to her." Nick gave the reply before floating off to some other students.
The trio just looked at each other than continued eating their food.
After the school quieted down from their massive food intake, Professor Dumbledore stood.
The action alone caused a blanket of silence only ignored by the howling of the wind and
the pounding of the rain. Mother Nature never pays attention to what man wants.
"Now that we've all been fed and watered," he gave a winning smile to the whole school, "I
must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices."
"Mr Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside
the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-Yos, Fanged Frisbees, and
Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven
items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."
Dumbledore's eyes gave a twinkle of mischief as he continued, "As ever, I would like to remind
you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of
Hogsmead to all below third year.
"It is also my painful duty to inform you tat the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place
this year."
A low murmur of disbelief spread through the school. Dumbledore continued, "This is due to an
event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up
much of the teachers' time and energy – but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I
have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts –"
Just at the moment the last words flew out of Dumbledore's mouth, the Thunder roared and the
doors at the entrance of the hall flew open with a loud thud as the vibrations from the thunder
were slowly falling away. Someone definitely had good timing.
A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak.
Every head in the Great Hall swivelled towards the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a
fork of lightning that forked across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of
grizzled, dark grey hair, then began to walk up toward the teacher's table.
A dull clunk echoed through the hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top
table, turned right and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightening light up
the room for a moment, and several gasps could be heard.
The flash of lightening had managed to throw the man's face into sharp relief. And it was a face
to startle any one. It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone
who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces are supposed to look like, and was none too
skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a
diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes that made
him frightening.
One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and vivid,
electric blue. The blue eye was moving carelessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down,
and then from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye–and then it rolled right over,
pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all they could see was whiteness.
The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face,
and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words no one could hear. He seemed to be making an
inquiry of the strange man. The man gave a shake of the head and quietly replied. Dumbledore
nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right hand side.
The man sat and ate with a paranoia that no student in the hall had ever seen before.
"May I introduce out new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Professor Dumbledore's
bright voice echoed through the silence. "Professor Moody."
It was unusual for a new staff member to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or
students clapped except Dumbledore and Hagrid, who both put their hands together and
applauded, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, a silence that even Mother Nature
seemed to agree to, and they stopped fairly quickly. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by
Moody's bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him. Everyone but one girl, the new
one, who still had her gaze transfixed on Professor Snape.
Dumbledore cleared his throat and that sound brought most of the student's attention back.
"As I was saying," he said with a smile, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very
exciting event over the coming mnths, an event that has not been held for over a century.
It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking
place at Hogwarts this year."
"You're JOKING!" said Fred Weasley loudly.
The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly
everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.
"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an
excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a
bar. . ."
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.
"Err – but maybe this is not the time . . .no. . ." Said Dumbledore, "where was I? Ah
yes, the Triwizard Tournament. . . well, some of you will not know that this tournament
involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation,
and allow their attention to wander freely.
"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a
friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts,
Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and
the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to
host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most
excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different
nationalities -- until, that is the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was
discontinued."
"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament,"
Dumbledore continues, "none of which has been very successful. However, our own
departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports
have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the
summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal
danger.
"The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed
contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at
Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to
compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of thier school and a thousand Galleons
personal prize money."
A low rumble started with many people telling friends that they will be the one to
get it and more than half the eyes in the crowd shined with the thought of winning.
Dumbledore spoke again and a quietness descended over the hall.
"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts,"
he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic,
have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students
who are of age, that is to say , seventeen years or older, will be aloud to put forward
their names for consideration. This" – Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for
several people had made noises of outrage at these words, "is a measure we feel is
necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous,
whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and
seventh hear will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no
underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts
champion." His light blue eyes tinkled as thy flickered over Fred's and George's
mutinous faces. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself
if you are under seventeen.
"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durstrang will be arriving in October and
Remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend
every courtesy to our foreign guests while thy are with us, and will give your whole-
hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now it
is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter
your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop Chop!"
As the Preficts led the first years to the dormitories, there was a great bustle of
people trying to both stare at the odd new professor and go back to their rooms for a
comfortable night's rest.
Tursila quietly followed the first years toward the Gryffindor tower when someone shouting
her name caused her to turn around. She saw a lively looking girl with bushy brown hair
and a bookish appearance coming towards her.
"Hi, my name's Hermione Granger, you're in my class, would you like me to show you where
we're staying?"
Tursila looked at Hermione for a few seconds before nodding her head in a unsure way.
Harry and Ron soon came up to Hermione and at seeing Tursila abruptly stopped.
"'Miony, what are you doing with her?" you could hear a thin thread of disgust in
his voice. Obviously he didn't like someone who had the chance of being related to
his most hated professor.
"Ron," Hermione barked back slightly angered by his tone of voice. "I'm showing Tursila
to the dormitories, and trying to be nice to someone who doesn't have any friends here.
How would you feel being taught by your parents until now than being forced here." her
voice was reprimanding.
Ron had the dignity to look ashamed by her reprimand and mumbled a "sorry Hermione"
Tursila watched the whole scene without making any sort of face. Harry, who had been
watching her, couldn't see any emotion on her face. 'Did she ever smile?' he wondered
to himself.
In a quiet voice he asked her, "Are you related to Professor Snape?"
She gave him a searching look then finally shrugged her shoulders as if to say that there
was no way anyone could know or say for sure.
"Well," Hermione's voice broke in, "shall we go?"
Tursila just nodded and waited for Hermione to take the lead. The way to the tower was
relatively quiet. Harry Ron and Hermione tried to ask more questions. Hermione was the
most vocal, asking things about classes and books, but every question was met with
silence. Soon the three gave up asking and started to talk amongst themselves.
Well, that's the end of this chapter, and sorry to say, no Tursila is not Severus's
daughter, but I will say Severus had a brother that he never knew about ;)
Now I must warn ya, this fiction is not going to end in anyway sweet and probably bloody.
sorry, but that's just me style, so as soon as i get to the later chapters, if I ever
do, than I'll have to up the rating.