Updated: September 27th, 2017
Chapter 10: So It Begins
Getting out of the carriage was not fun. The steps were uneven, the ground was muddy, and the stone steps were slippery with both mud and water. Despite the danger of slipping and being trampled, the four of us dashed up the steps and into the warmth of the castle. We came to a stop in the entrance hall, surrounded by our fellow students. Professor McGonagall walked out of the Great Hall and skidded on the wet floor.
When McGonagall collected herself, she directed us all into the Great Hall. Harry, Hermione, Ron, and I allowed ourselves to be herded through the double doors. Next to me, Ron was muttering furiously about being cold and hungry. I grunted, agreeing with him, as I pushed my limp curls out of my face. The Great Hall was surely a welcome sight with its start-of-term decorations. The golden plates and goblets glittered from the hundreds of floating candles. All four House tables were filling up as students greeted each other and took their seats. Facing us was the long staff table, every seat except four were taken. Because of the candles and roaring fire in the back, it was much warmer. The four of us passed the other three tables so to sit at our own with our own friends. Once seated, Harry was approached by Colin Creevey. While they started a conversation, I stared up at the enchanted ceiling. I had never seen it so stormy. The clouds were black and dark purple, swirling madly and every time thunder sounded outside, lightning flashed across the ceiling.
Once everyone was seated, the first years were led through the double doors by McGonagall. My heart went out to the poor eleven-year-olds. All of them were shivering from either the cold or from nerves or both. Like always, they came to a halt just in front of the staff table where the Sorting Hat rested on its stool. All eyes were on the old, dirty, patched up, moth eaten hat. Then a long tear on the brim opened and broke into song.
Ten minutes later, I joined the applause as the Sorting Hat finished. As tradition, McGonagall unrolled a long piece of parchment that had the first years' names on it. A boy named Ackerley went first and was sorted into Ravenclaw. While everyone watched him join his new Housemates, Harry's eyes fell on Cho Chang. I rolled my eyes at him. Cho was the type of girl who went for the tall, handsome, and older boys; Harry was on the shorter side, cute, and young. Honestly, he didn't have a chance…but I wasn't going to tell him that.
The sorting went on as one frightened face after another sat on the stool. Ron, who was sitting across from me, started becoming agitated because he was hungry. He tapped his fingers, bounced his knee, he even kicked me in the shin one or twice. Finally, after the last boy was sorted, McGonagall picked up the hat and stool, carrying them off. Ron's smile stretched across his entire face as he readied his knife and fork to dig in. Dumbledore got to his feet, smiling widely at the entire hall. His arms were spread open in welcome.
"Now that we're all settled and sorted, I'd like to make an announcement. This castle will not only be your home this year but home to some very special guests as well. You see, Hogwarts has been chosen to –" from the end of the hall, Filch ran up the aisle, limping in a sort of comical way. He whispered something to our Headmaster and ran out the same way he came in. "So, Hogwarts has been chosen to host a legendary event. The Triwizard Tournament. Now for those of you who do not know, the Triwizard Tournament brings together three schools for a series of magical contests."
I leaned over to Ron and smiled, "That's why Charlie said he'll be seeing us soon."
"Now let me be clear, if chosen you stand alone. And trust me when I say these contests are not for the faint hearted, but more of that later," there were some murmurs around the hall. "Now join me in welcoming the lovely ladies of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and their Headmistress Madam Maxime."
The doors burst open, revealing about a dozen girls who looked in their late teens. The girls were dressed in blue silk and caps. They danced up the aisle, releasing butterflies into the air as they sighed. The male population of our school watched in extreme fascination as they danced to the front to greet Dumbledore. My face burned red as I saw Fred lean back, watching the girls' butts as they passed him and George.
"Blimey, that's one big woman," I heard Seamus mutter.
Seamus was right. The woman who followed the beautiful girls was HUGE. She must have been taller than Hagrid. The woman (who I assumed was Madam Maxime) had an olive-toned face; large, black eyes; and a beaky nose. Her dark hair was styled in a bob cut and she wore expensive looking black satin. Many gleaming jewels adorned her neck and fingers. This woman was the complete opposite of her students who were young and beautiful with long light hair and light eyes.
The hall burst into applause as they reached the staff table. Dumbledore took Madam Maxime's thick hand, leading her to a seat at the table as the girls were led to the Ravenclaw table. I chuckled seeing as Ravenclaw's color was blue and those girls were wearing blue. Dumbledore came back to his podium and spoke again, "And now our friends from the north, please greet the proud sons of Durmstrang and the High Master, Igor Karkaroff!"
Once again, the doors burst open. A series of older boys swiftly walked up the aisle. They each carried a bo-staff which they twirled around and periodically stabbed into the ground with a spark effect. The older boys seemed to be built up like Crabbe and Goyle…just with more muscle and less fat. I was mystified by the sharp edges in their faces and the mysterious looks in their eyes as they passed us. Like the boys before them, the Hogwarts girls leaned out of their seats or stood to get a better glimpse of these foreign wonders.
Two other boys and an older man followed behind. This time, everyone stared. "Blimey, it's him," Ron gasped. "It's Viktor Krum!"
Up front, a boy had taken out his wand. He knelt with one knee on the ground and let out a puff on the tip of the wand. A large dragon-like flame jumped out, roaring and warming the entire room. The hall, even the Beauxbaton girls, burst into applause. The older man with the sleek black hair embraced our Headmaster, giving him a mix between a sneer and a smile. I did not like the look of him…but who was I to judge. The older man was also led up to the staff table as the boys were taken to the Slytherin table.
From his seat, Dumbledore clapped his hands together, "Tuck in!"
Suddenly, the empty dishes magically filled. The shocked and awed gasps from the first years and foreign students made me smile. From behind Ron, Nearly Headless Nick slid by, staring mournfully at the roast chicken and mashed potatoes Ron had placed on his full plate. Ron stuffed his mouth full of peas and potatoes and then sighed happily. I looked down the table to see where Fred was laughing with George and Lee Jordan. I had just brought a forkful of chicken to my mouth when Fred looked down the table and right at me. Our eyes met and he smiled at me. I dropped my fork so I could send a small wave back. I didn't stop looking at him until there was a clanging noise next to me.
Hermione had knocked over her goblet of pumpkin juice. It started spreading steadily over the tablecloth, turning white into orange. My friend didn't mind, her face was frozen in terror as she looked at Sir Nick. "There are house-elves here," she said in a half whisper. "Here at Hogwarts?"
Sir Nick nodded. He told her that Hogwarts had the largest number of house-elves in Britain. They hardly ever left the kitchen in the day time, only coming out at night to clean and stoke fires and what not. Everyone knew that the mark of a good house-elf was to never be seen. Hermione had a fit. She began asking our resident ghost all kinds of ridiculous questions about the house-elves. She huffed, pushing her plate away as she said she would not eat anything done by 'slave labor'.
The rain was still beating against the high stained-glass as dinner went on. The remains of the first course disappeared and were replaced by mountains of puddings, ice cream, and cookies. Ron waved a treacle tart under Hermione's nose, trying to get her to eat it. He gave up when she threw him a look that'd make Professor McGonagall proud. When the deserts had been demolished, the plates vanished, leaving only full goblets of warm pumpkin juice and hot cocoa. The chattering went on as Dumbledore rose from his seat.
"Your attention please," his voice boomed over all others. The Hall went silent. The corners of his mouth twitched. "I would like to say a few words. First, it pains me to say that the Inner-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year." There were moans of protest from the players of the Houses. But our Headmaster continued, "Eternal glory and a thousand Galleon prize await the student who wins the Triwizard Tournament. But to do this that student must survive three tasks. Three extremely dangerous tasks."
"Wicked," Ron muttered.
"For this reason, the Ministry has seen fit to impose a new rule. To explain all this we have the head of the Department of International Magic Cooperation, Mister Bartimus Crouch."
As Barty Crouch stepped next to Dumbledore, thunder roared overhead louder than before. Real rain suddenly fell from the ceiling as people screamed in shock. From the back of the Hall, a man cast a spell, aiming for the roof, and the rain stopped. Those who were shouting went silent as everyone stared at the newcomer. He lowered his hood, revealing shoulder length dirty blonde hair. His face looked like it had been carved up at one point. At the corner of his mouth was a long thin scar which made the man look like the Joker from Batman. He had a small, beady eye and the other was large and circular (kind of like an eye patch) and bright blue. The blue eye swirled around as he limped his way to the staff table, his long staff clunking with each step.
"Bloody hell," Ron whispered as the man passed us. "It's Mad-Eye Moody."
"Alastor Moody? The Auror," Hermione asked curiously.
"Dark wizard catcher," Ron explained, although I had already heard of him through Tonks. "Half the cells in Azkaban are full thanks to him. He's supposed to be mad as a hatter though these days."
Dumbledore took Moody's hand, most likely welcoming him. Moody rolled his good eye and muttered something no one could hear. He turned away from Dumbledore, taking out a flask. With his meaty thumb he popped open the stopper and drank greedily.
"What's that he's drinking do you suppose," someone asked.
"I dunno, but I don't think its pumpkin juice," Harry said, his eyes locked on Moody.
Crouch took this time to speak, "After much deliberation, the Ministry has concluded that, for their own safety, no student under the age of seventeen shall be allowed to put forth their name for the Triwizard Tournament."
The crowd became unsettled. People were booing and yelling about what crap that was. Over the noises that filled the hall, I heard George shouting, "That's rubbish! You don't know what you're doing!"
Dumbledore tapped his wand over a tall golden box which melted on spot. In place of the box stood a magnificently large bronze goblet containing a blue flame. A moment of anger was replaced by a moment of pure fascination.
"The Goblet of Fire," Dumbledore said. "Anyone wishing to submit themselves for the tournament merely write their name upon a piece of parchment and throw it in the flame before this hour Thursday night. Do not do so lightly, if chosen there's no turning back. As from this moment, the Triwizard Tournament has begun."