"Oh, I do hope they come in soon and get the Sorting done quickly," said Scott to Luna as they sat at the Ravenclaw table in the Great Hall, waiting for the Sorting Ceremony to begin. "I could eat a ruddy Hippogriff, I'm so hungry."
The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the doors of the Great Hall opened and silence fell. Professor McGonagall led a long line of first years up to the top of the Hall. If Scott and Luna were wet, it was nothing to how the first years looked. They appeared to have swam across the lake rather than sailed. All of them were shivering with a combination of cold and nerves as they filed along the staff table and came to a halt in a line facing the rest of the school.
Professor McGonagall placed a three-legged stool on the ground by the first years and, on top of it, an extremely old, dirty, patched wizard's hat. Scott recognized it immediately as the Sorting Hat, which had once considered putting him into the same house as Harry, Ron and Hermione before settling on Ravenclaw. For a moment, there was silence as everyone in the Great Hall stared at the Sorting Hat. Then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth and the hat broke into song:
A thousand years or more ago,
When I was newly sewn,
There lived four wizards of renown,
Whose names are still well known:
Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor
Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,
Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad
Shrewd Slytherin, from fen.
They shared a wish, a hope, a dream
They hatched a daring plan
To educated young sorcerers
Thus Hogwarts School began.
Now each of these four founders
Formed their own house, for each
Did value different virtues
In the ones they had to teach.
By Gryffindor, the bravest were
Prize far beyond the rest;
For Ravenclaw, the cleverest
Would always be the best;
For Hufflepuff, hard workers were
Most worth of admission;
And power-hungry Slytherin
Loved those of great ambition.
Will still alive they did divide
Their favorites from the throng,
Yet how to pick the worthy ones
When they were dead and gone?
'Twas Gryffindor who found the way,
He whipped me off his head
The founders put some brains in me
So I could choose instead!
Now slip me snug about your ears,
I've never yet been wrong,
I'll have a look inside your mind
And tell you where you belong!
The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished and became still again.
"That was a rather good song," said Luna vaguely. "Don't you think?"
"Oh, yes," replied Scott. "It's good to hear the hat change its song every year to tell the story of Hogwarts and the founders.
Professor McGonagall unrolled a large scroll of parchment.
"When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool," she explained to the first years. "When the hat announced your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table.
"Ackerley, Stewart!"
A boy walked forward, visibly trembling from head to foot, picked up the Sorting Hat, put it on and sat down on the stool.
"RAVENCLAW!" shouted the hat.
Scott and Luna joined the rest of the Ravenclaw table in applause as Stewart Ackerley took off the hat and hurried into a seat at the table.
Finally, the Sorting ending. Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and the stool and carried them away.
Professor Dumbledore got to his feet. He was smiling around at the students, his arms opened wide in welcome.
"I have only two words to say to you," he told them, his deep voice echoing around the hall. "Tuck in."
"Hear, hear!" Scott heard Harry and Ron chant loudly as the empty dishes filled magically before their eyes. He snickered as he grabbed some chicken legs and piled them onto his plate.
Once his plate was filled, Scott started to eat, feeling ravenous; the Cauldron Cakes on the Hogwarts Express seemed ages ago.
"Whew, that's much better," Scott said as he took a swig of pumpkin juice. "So, Luna, did you have a good summer?"
"Yes," said Luna dreamily. "Daddy and I had fun at the Quidditch World Cup. We were able to get out of there before that bad stuff happened."
"Do you know about the event taking place at Hogwarts this year?"
Luna shook her head. "Daddy said something about it, but he didn't want to spoil it for me."
"Is your dad going to cover it for The Quibbler?" Scott asked.
"No, I don't think so. He prefers to let other magazines cover it. But I do think he would love for your Mum to contribute some of her columns to The Quibbler while she covers it."
"I'm sure she'd love to," Scott said, smiling. "I'll send her an owl and see if she'd like to."
"That's nice," said Luna.
When the last crumbs had faded off their plates, leaving them sparkling clean, Dumbledore stood up again. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard.
"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "Now that we are all fed and watered, 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 including 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 read it."
"Bloody hell," Scott muttered as the corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched before he continued speaking.
"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 Hogsmeade to all below third year.
"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."
At this, several students made outbursts of anger, while others remained silent, too shocked by the announcement.
Dumbledore went on, "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 —"
But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.
A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Everyone in the Great Hall turned to look at this man as he lowered his hood and began to walk up toward the teacher's table.
A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. Once he came into the light, everyone was able to see its face, which appeared as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who only had the vaguest idea of what a human face should look like. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. It was his eye that caught everyone's attention.
The blue eye moved ceaselessly, without blinking and was rolling up, down and form 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.
Suddenly, Scott recognized the man, who approached Dumbledore and shook hands with the headmaster.
"Bloody hell," he whispered, just loud enough for those around him to hear. "It's Mad-Eye Moody."
"Alastor Moody?" said Luna vaguely. "The auror?"
"Auror?" asked one of the first year students as Moody sat down at the staff table, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose and sniffed it.
"Dark wizard catcher," Scott explained. "Loads of cells in Azkaban are filled thanks to him. He's supposed to be mad as a hatter these days."
"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore brightly into the stunned silence. "Professor Moody."
Only Dumbledore and Hagrid clapped and they stopped fairly quickly. Moody seemed totally indifferent to his lackluster welcome, instead focusing on eating and drinking from a flask he pulled from his cloak.
Dumbledore cleared his throat.
"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, 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 since Moody's arrival vanished instantly. 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, her thin lips pursed.
"Er — 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 what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do will forgive me for giving a short explanation and allow their attention to wander freely."
For the next several minutes, Dumbledore explained how the tournament would work and how the three schools have worked to ensure no student finds themselves in mortal peril should they participate in the tournament.
"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 on Halloween," Dumbledore explained. "An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."
Several students broke out in excited whispers with one another, perhaps discussing their plans to enter the tournament. But then Dumbledore spoke again and the Hall fell silent once more.
"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 it is to say, seventeen years or older — will be allowed 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 year 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. I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen.
"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us and will give your wholehearted 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!"
Dumbledore sat back down and turned to talk with Mad-Eye Moody. There was a great scrambling sound as the students all stood up and started to slowly make their way out of the Great Hall. Scott glanced up at the staff table and saw Professor Snape detach himself from it, walking toward the Ravenclaw Table.
"I'll catch you up," Scott muttered to Luna before he walked up toward Snape, who nodded at him, motioning for Scott to follow him.
Once outside the Great Hall and out of earshot of other students or staff, Snape finally spoke.
"Are you all right?" he asked, sounding worried. "I know you were at the World Cup when the Dark Mark was cast."
Scott nodded. "I'm fine," he said. "I still can't believe I actually heard the bloody thing get cast."
"That's why Professor Dumbledore wanted to speak with us as soon as the Feast was over," said Snape as they turned down the corridor that led to Dumbledore's office. "It seems our mission could start at any time."
They reached the stone gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office.
"Cockroach Cluster," Snape said to the gargoyle, which at once sprung to life and moved aside to let them in.
Scott followed Snape up the stairs and into Dumbledore's office, but the Headmaster had not yet returned from the Feast. They sat down in awkward silence, waiting for Dumbledore to arrive. Scott was relieved when he heard the door open a few minutes later.
"Ah, Severus, Scott, thank you both for coming," he said hurriedly as he strode across the room and sat down at his desk, facing Scott and Snape. "My apologies for coming so late; Professor Moody and I had some catching up to do."
"Professor Snape tells me our mission could start soon," Scott said.
Dumbledore nodded. "He is quite right, Scott. I'm afraid with the Dark Mark appearing at the Quidditch World Cup and Bertha Jorkins' disappearance, everything seems to point to the imminent return of the Dark Lord. And there has been another disappearance, one I fear will be ignored, for it concerns a Muggle."
"A Muggle, Professor?"
"Yes, a Muggle who cared for the property owned by Voldemort's father and grandparents. He has gone missing without a trace and I'm afraid Cornelius fails to see it as suspicious."
"Typical fool," Snape muttered.
Dumbledore pretended as if he didn't hear Snape. "With everything that is happening, I asked Alastor to come and teach this year. He was one of the greatest Aurors the Ministry of Magic ever saw and he is certainly capable of spotting anything suspicious. And that is what I task you with this year, Scott and Severus: keep your eyes out for anything suspicious. If you see anything, please tell me at once."
Scott and Snape nodded. Dumbledore smiled. "Excellent. That will be all for now, Scott. Thank you for your time this evening. Professor Snape and I have some curriculum items to discuss before the evening is out."
Scott stood up from his desk and walked toward the door.
"Night, professors," he said before he opened the door and walked through it.