Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine.
Chapter 10 – The Visitors Arrive
The next morning, Lucy and Hermione went down to the common room to find Ron waiting for them alone.
"Where's Harry?" Lucy asked.
Ron shrugged. "He was gone when I woke up," he replied.
"Gone?" Hermione repeated. "I wonder where he went.…"
"Well, there's no point in sitting around waiting," Ron said. "Let's go down to breakfast. He'll turn up."
So, the three Gryffindors left the tower and went down to the Great Hall. They sat down at their table and started to fix themselves breakfast.
A few minutes later, Harry joined them.
"Good morning," Lucy said as Harry slid onto the bench next to Ron. "Where were you?"
"I was sending Sirius a letter back," Harry replied. "I told him that I was probably imagining my scar hurting and that he shouldn't come all the way up here when there's nothing wrong."
"That was a lie, Harry," Hermione said fiercely. "You didn't imagine your scar hurting, and you know it."
"So what?" Harry shot back. "He's not going back to Azkaban because of me."
"Drop it," Ron said swiftly when Hermione opened her mouth.
Hermione glared at him but didn't say anything else.
~LJ:D~
Over the next few days, Lucy watched as Harry worried about Sirius. Granted, she was worried, too; Sirius was also her godfather. The only thing that could distract Harry from his thoughts was their class work, which was steadily getting more difficult.
About a week later, the Gryffindor fourth-years found themselves in Defense Against the Dark Arts class when Moody made a surprising announcement.
"Today I'll be putting all of you under the Imperius Curse," he said, and the students exchanged looks of shock. "Everyone, please stand up." He pulled his wand out and waved it. The desks and chairs flew over to the walls, leaving the middle of the room clear.
"But—but you said it's illegal, Professor," Hermione stammered. "You said—to use it against another human was—"
"Dumbledore wants you taught what it feels like," Moody interrupted. "If you'd rather learn the hard way—when someone's putting it on you, so they can control you completely—fine by me. You're excused. Off you go."
Hermione blushed, looking embarrassed.
"That was a bit rude," Lucy said aloud, frowning at their professor.
"Is that right?" Moody asked, turned to her. "Well, why don't you go first, Jones?" He gestured for her to step up into the middle of the room, so she did. Moody pointed his wand at her. "Imperio!" he said.
Lucy felt herself being filled with a wonderfully calm feeling. All of her worries vanished, and all she cared about was staying this relaxed forever. Then she heard a small voice talking to her in her head.
Do some cartwheels around the room.… Just a couple of cartwheels.…
Lucy immediately complied, doing a couple cartwheels. She could hear some giggling around her, but she couldn't bring herself to care in the slightest.
After going around the room a few times, she stopped. The small voice stopped talking, and she no longer felt the warm, calm feeling that she'd been experiencing. Her classmates were laughing, and she felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment.
"Hm," Moody grunted. "That's all, Jones. Thomas, you're next."
Lucy went over to join Harry, Ron, and Hermione, and Dean stepped forward.
"What was it like?" Hermione whispered anxiously.
"It was… really weird," Lucy replied.
Moody, meanwhile, had cast the Imperius Curse on Dean and made him hop around the room, singing the national anthem. While many of the students laughed at Dean, Lucy didn't. After the Imperius Curse had been used on her, she didn't find the things they were doing under the influence of the curse to be very funny.
Moody put the curse on every single person in the class, and nobody was able to fight it off. A small part of Lucy felt glad that she wasn't the only one who hadn't been able to throw the curse off.
Harry was the last one to go.
"Potter, you next," Moody said, and Harry stepped up in the middle of the room. "Imperio!" Moody pointed his wand at Harry.
A few seconds passed, and Harry bent his knees, looking like he was going to jump up onto a desk in front of him. Then he froze in the position for a few moments.
"What's happening?" Ron hissed, looking concerned.
Then Harry seemed to try and jump onto the desk without jumping properly, and instead he banged his knees into the desk, which flipped over.
"Now, that's more like it!" Moody said, lowering his wand. "Look at that, you lot—Potter fought! He fought it, and he damn near beat it! We'll try that again, Potter, and the rest of you, pay attention—watch his eyes. That's where you see it—very good, Potter, very good indeed! They'll have trouble controlling you!"
Moody insisted on putting Harry under the Imperius Curse four more times, which was when Harry was able to throw off the curse entirely. Then they spent the rest of the class taking notes on how to throw off the curse. When the bell rang, Moody set them homework and let the class leave.
"The way he talks, you'd think we were all going to be attacked any second," Harry said as they walked down the corridor.
"Yeah, I know," Ron said. "Talk about paranoid.… No wonder they were glad to get shot of him at the Ministry. Did you hear him telling Seamus what he did to that witch who shouted boo behind him on April Fools' Day?" There was a pause, and Ron added, "Also, when are we supposed to read up on resisting the Imperius Curse with everything else we have to do?"
"Keep whining about it, Ron," Lucy sniggered. "I'm sure that'll do the trick."
~LJ:D~
The fourth-years' work load continued to increase, a fact that they were not taking lightly. At the end of their next Transfiguration class, Professor McGonagall gave them so much homework that the class complained loudly about all they had to do.
"You are now entering a most important phase of your magical education!" Professor McGonagall snapped. "Your Ordinary Wizarding Levels are drawing closer—"
"We don't take O.W.L.s 'til fifth year!" Dean protested.
"Maybe not, Thomas, but believe me, you need all the preparation you can get!" Professor McGonagall said sharply. "Miss Granger remains the only person in this class who has managed to turn a hedgehog into a satisfactory pincushion. I might remind you that your pincushion, Thomas, still curls up in fright if anyone approaches it with a pin!"
Professor McGonagall wasn't the only one who was giving them work at the end of every class. Lucy was receiving essays in History of Magic and Muggle Studies every week, Professor Vector was giving them number charts to work on at the end of every class hour, and Professor Flitwick had assigned reading from three separate textbooks to prepare the class for Summoning Charms. Snape, meanwhile, had been hinting at poisoning them and had them researching antidotes.
Hagrid also wanted to give them extra work; he suggested having students come down to his hut every few nights to observe the skrewts' behavior.
"I will not," Malfoy said when Hagrid told them of his plan. "I see enough of these foul things during lessons, thanks."
"Yeh'll do wha' yer told," Hagrid said, "or I'll be takin' a leaf outta Professor Moody's book.… I hear yeh make a good ferret, Malfoy."
Half of the class laughed at this, while Malfoy scowled but didn't say anything else.
~LJ:D~
At the end of that lesson, Lucy, Harry, Ron, and Hermione cheerfully walked up to the castle. They climbed the front steps and entered the entrance hall to find a large crowd gathering at the foot of the marble staircase.
"What's going on?" Lucy asked, not able to see what everyone else was looking at.
Ron stood on his tiptoes. "There's a sign up there!" he reported. "Triwizard Tournament: The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at six o'clock on Friday the thirtieth of October. Lessons will end half an hour early."
"Brilliant!" Harry cut in. "It's Potions last thing on Friday! Snape won't have time to poison us all!"
"Students will return their bags and books to their dormitories," Ron continued to read, "and assemble in front of the castle to greet our guests before the Welcoming Feast."
"Only a week away!" Ernie Macmillan, a fourth-year Hufflepuff, exclaimed as he pushed his way through the crowd. "I wonder if Cedric knows? Think I'll go and tell him—" He hurried off.
"Cedric?" Ron repeated, looking confused.
"Diggory," Lucy reminded him.
"He must be entering the tournament," Harry said.
"That idiot, Hogwarts champion?" Ron asked incredulously.
The four of them forced their way through the crowd to get to the stairs.
"He's not an idiot," Lucy said as they began climbing up. "You just don't like him because he beat Gryffindor at Quidditch."
"I've heard he's a really good student," Hermione added, "and he's a prefect."
"You two only like him because he's handsome," Ron sneered.
"Excuse me, but I don't like people just because they're handsome," Hermione said, folding her arms over her chest.
"Lockhart!" Ron hissed, trying to cover it with a fake cough.
"Being handsome never hurt anybody," Lucy said, and Harry and Ron looked at her in surprise. "What? I'm not going to sit here and pretend like I don't think he's attractive, because he totally is."
~LJ:D~
In the week that led up to the thirtieth, the castle was scrubbed from top to bottom. Portraits were wiped clean of dust and grime, and the suits of armor were polished and oiled to stop the squeaking. Filch was giving out severe punishments to anyone who tracked dirt into the building.
When Lucy and her friends went down to breakfast on the Friday that the visitors were arriving, they were surprised to see that the Great Hall had been decorated from the previous night. The four house banners were hanging from the walls on either side of the house tables. Behind the staff table was another banner, this one black with the school crest on it.
Ron led the way to the Gryffindor table and made to sit by his twin brothers, who were by themselves away from everyone else.
"It's a bummer, all right," George was saying to Fred, "but if he won't talk to us in person, we'll have to send him the letter after all. Or we'll stuff it into his hand. He can't avoid us forever."
"Who's avoiding you?" Ron asked as he sat down.
Harry sat down next to him. Lucy took the seat next to George, with Hermione on her other side.
"Wish you would," Fred said irritably.
"Fred," Lucy admonished.
"What's a bummer?" Ron asked, looking at George.
"Having a nosy git like you for a brother," George replied.
"George," Lucy scolded.
George shrugged and smiled at her.
"You two got any ideas on the Triwizard Tournament yet?" Harry asked, changing the subject. "Thought any more about trying to enter?"
"I asked McGonagall how the champions are chosen, but she wasn't telling," George said. "She just told me to shut up and get on with transfiguring my raccoon."
"Wonder what the tasks are going to be?" Ron mused. "You know, I bet we could do them, Harry. We've done dangerous stuff before—"
"Not in front of a panel of judges, you haven't," Fred pointed out. "McGonagall says the champions get awarded points according to how well they've done the tasks."
"Who are the judges?" Harry asked.
"Well, the heads of the participating schools are always on the panel," Hermione said, and everyone looked at her, "because all three of them were injured during the tournament in 1792 when a cockatrice the champions were supposed to be catching went on a rampage."
Everyone continued to stare at her, and she sighed, "It's all in Hogwarts, A History. Though, of course, that book's not entirely reliable. A Revised History of Hogwarts would be a more accurate title. Or A Highly Biased and Selective History of Hogwarts, Which Glosses Over the Nastier Aspects of the School."
"What are you on about?" Ron asked exasperatedly.
"House-elves!" Hermione cried. "Not once, in over a thousand pages, does Hogwarts, A History mention that we are all colluding in the oppression of a hundred slaves!"
Harry, Ron, and Fred busied themselves with their breakfast, avoiding Hermione's gaze. Hermione's S.P.E.W. campaign hadn't been going well, but it didn't deter her; if anything, it made her try even harder.
"Listen, have you ever been down to the kitchens, Hermione?" George asked.
"No, of course not," Hermione replied. "I hardly think students are supposed to—"
"Well, we have," George said, gesturing between himself and Fred. "We've gone down there loads of times to nick food. We've met them, and they're happy. They think they've got the best job in the world—"
"That's because they're uneducated and brainwashed!" Hermione seethed.
Before she could continue, however, the Great Hall was filled with owls swooping in with the morning mail. Fred and George took the opportunity to carry on their discussion about the Triwizard Tournament.
Harry looked up, and his mouth fell open, watching as Hedwig flew down and landed on his shoulder, looking tired. Harry pulled the note off her leg and read it, motioning for Ron to lean in to read over his shoulder. When they were done, Harry passed it wordlessly across the table for Lucy and Hermione to look at.
Nice try, Harry.
I'm back in the country and well hidden. I want you to keep me posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts. Don't use Hedwig, keeping changing owls, and don't worry about me, just watch out for yourself. Don't forget what I said about your scar.
Sirius
"Well, I don't know what you expected," Lucy said, handing the note back to Harry.
"Why d'you have to keep changing owls?" Ron asked.
"Hedwig will attract too much attention," Hermione replied. "She stands out. A snowy owl that keeps returning to wherever he's hiding—I mean, they're not native birds, are they?"
Harry folded up the note and stroked Hedwig's feathers. "Thanks, Hedwig," he said.
She hooted, took a drink out of Harry's pumpkin juice, and then took off again.
~LJ:D~
Throughout the day, Hogwarts was abuzz with anticipation for the visitors' arrival that night. It was difficult to pay attention in class, and when lessons ended half an hour early, the fourth-year Gryffindors were more than excited to leave the dungeons earlier than normal.
Lucy, Hermione, Sally-Anne, Lavender, and Parvati rushed up to their dormitory to drop off their books. Lavender and Parvati were anxiously checking their reflections in the mirror, fixing up their hair. Then all five of them grabbed their cloaks and hats and went with the rest of the Gryffindors down to the entrance hall.
Professor McGonagall was shuffling the Gryffindors into a line by year. "Weasley, straighten your hat," she ordered. "Miss Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair."
Parvati pulled her hair accessory from her braid and shoved it into her robe pocket, scowling, and Professor McGonagall moved onto the fifth-years.
When they were finally ready, Professor McGonagall stood in front of them all. "Follow me, please," she instructed the Gryffindors. "First-years in front—no pushing—"
She led them out the front doors and down the stone steps. They gathered on the grounds in front of the castle, with the first-years in front and seventh-years in back. Lucy stood between Hermione and Neville.
"Nearly six," Ron said. "How d'you reckon they're coming? The train?"
"I doubt it," Hermione said.
"How then? Broomsticks?" Harry suggested.
"I don't think so," Hermione said. "Not from that far away—"
"A Portkey?" Ron said. "Or they could Apparate—maybe you're allowed to do it under seventeen wherever they come from?"
"Only the students who are seventeen and older are coming," Lucy pointed out.
"You can't Apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds anyway," Hermione added. "How often do I have to tell you?"
"That, too," Lucy said, smirking.
There was still no sign of anyone, and the cold was starting to set in as the students waited. Lucy rubbed her hands together under her cloak.
"Aha!" Dumbledore announced after a few more minutes. "Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"
"Where?" shouted many of the students as everyone looked around frantically.
"There!" someone in the back of the Ravenclaw group yelled, pointing into the sky above the forest.
Everyone looked to see a speck in the air that was growing larger as it made its way closer to the school grounds.
"It's a dragon!" screamed a first-year from Hufflepuff.
"Don't be stupid—it's a flying house!" Dennis Creevey shouted.
The flying object drew even closer until they were finally able to make out what it was. It was a blue carriage being pulled by a dozen giant, flying horses. It flew lower and lower until it finally crashed to the ground, causing a few students to flinch.
A boy jumped down from the carriage and released a set of steps that led from the door of the carriage to the ground. Then he stepped back, standing at attention. The door of the carriage opened, and a giant shoe stepped out. The foot was followed by the rest of the woman; she was the tallest woman Lucy had ever seen. Lucy was immediately reminded of Hagrid.
Dumbledore began to clap, and the Hogwarts students hurried to copy him. The woman smiled and sashayed over to Dumbledore, who took her hand and kissed the back of it.
"My dear Madam Maxime," he greeted. "Welcome to Hogwarts."
"Dumbly-dorr," Madam Maxime answered in a strong French accent. "I 'ope I find you well?"
"In excellent form, I thank you," Dumbledore replied.
"My pupils," Madam Maxime said, gesturing behind her.
Lucy turned back to the carriage to see a group of students in blue robes made of silk. They stood together, shivering against the cold, and looked up at the castle unimpressively.
"'As Karkaroff arrived yet?" Madam Maxime asked.
"He should be here any moment," Dumbledore said. "Would you like to wait here and greet him, or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"
"Warm up, I think," Madam Maxime said. "But ze 'orses—"
"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them," Dumbledore assured her, "the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of—er—his other charges."
"Skrewts," Lucy heard Ron mutter.
"My steeds require—er—forceful 'andling," Madam Maxime said doubtfully. "Zey are very strong—"
"I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job," Dumbledore said.
"Very well," Madam Maxime conceded. "Will you please inform zis 'Agrid zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whiskey?"
"It will be attended to," Dumbledore said, nodding.
"Come," Madam Maxime called over to her students.
They hurried after their headmistress and were soon inside the castle.
"I wish we could go in the castle," Lucy murmured to Neville, who nodded his agreement.
"How big d'you reckon Durmstrang's horses are going to be?" Seamus asked.
"Well, if they're bigger than this lot, even Hagrid won't be able to handle them," Harry said. "That's if he hasn't been attacked by his skrewts. Wonder what's up with them?"
"Maybe they've escaped," Ron said excitedly.
"Oh, don't say that," Hermione moaned.
"Yeah, imagine those things loose on the grounds…" Lucy agreed, making a face.
The minutes continued to tick by as they waited for the Durmstrang party, and many of the Hogwarts students were looking up at the sky.
"Can you hear something?" Ron eventually spoke up.
Lucy listened, hearing a quiet rumbling that was getting louder.
"The lake!" Lee Jordan yelled from the sixth-year line. "Look at the lake!"
Everyone turned to see that the once calm water was now moving in disturbance. A whirlpool was forming in the center, growing larger for a few minutes before something began to rise from it.
"It's a mast!" Harry exclaimed.
He was right; out of the water was rising a giant ship. Soon, the entire ship had emerged, and the whirlpool disappeared. They heard the splash of an anchor being lowered into the water, and then a wooden plank was extended from the deck of the ship to the shore of the lake. The occupants began to come ashore, led by a tall man who was obviously the headmaster of the school.
"Dumbledore!" the man said as he and his students drew near. "How are you, my dear fellow? How are you?"
His students were all wearing thick fur coats and surveying the castle in interest.
"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied.
Karkaroff reached him and shook Dumbledore's hand with both of his. "Dear old Hogwarts," he said wistfully. "How good it is to be here. How good—Viktor, come along, into the warmth—you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold.…"
Karkaroff motioned to one of his students to come forward. When the boy stepped into the light, Lucy recognized him immediately.
"Harry!" she heard Ron hiss. "It's Krum!"
~LJ:D~
A/N: Originally, I had Lucy kind of "snap out of it" while she was in the middle of being under the Imperius Curse. I took that part out, because it felt like I was just trying to make Lucy be extra special. She is quite a talented witch, especially as she continues to learn, but I thought that might be pushing it a bit much.