It took a while for things to go back to normal in the Burrow, everyone still shaken over the World Cup incident. We had the long last days of summer, good weather, plenty of food and good company to thank for feeling a fair bit more decent after the initial shock had worn off. Bill had taken to telling everyone how I'd jumped onto one of the dark wizards and practically mauled him after I'd seen him get hurt, jokingly telling me he had no idea I felt so strongly for him and I'd respond with some tart reply or other whilst the others laughed and Molly fussed that I had been so reckless, endangering myself but still grateful I had defended her dear boy. Each and every time I would go pink at the cheeks as she'd flutter her hand over her heart with little tears in her eyes and awkwardly insist that it was the least I could do and it was no trouble at all before she would then descend upon me with a crushing hug whilst the boys sniggered. It earned a laugh, and thereafter things started picking up.
I was concerned for Harry though. He'd told me about his summer and how his scar had hurt him at some point whilst he was dreaming about Voldemort and Wormtail, which was alarming to say the least. He'd filled me in on a great deal, talking openly with me as I sat and listened to him tell me about his dreams and Trelawney's prediction from last year about a servant returning to his master, and that the Dark Lord was going to rise again with even more power than before. Once he was finished, he looked at me rather expectantly as I processed everything, analysing every single word before sighing dramatically. "Well, sounds like we're all doomed."
"Haha, very funny." He drawled but smiled all the same, seemingly appreciating the sarcasm. "What do you think I should do? Hermione thinks I should go to Dumbledore and Ron reckons it was a sign that Voldemort was nearby, since the last time my scar hurt it was because he was on the back of Quirrel's head." I vaguely had a memory of enchanted snowballs smacking our old teacher in the back of the face where, unknowingly to all, Voldemort had been hitching a ride. I smirked rather gleefully. "Mia?"
"Voldemort wouldn't be anywhere near you right now, Harry. He's got no power, he can't do anything to you. I bet if we saw him now, we could probably step on him and he'd just die." I reasoned slowly, thinking it through carefully. "As for your scar, maybe it is a warning of some kind, but since I very much doubt it's because Voldemort was in close proximity to you, it has to be for another reason. It could just be a reaction of some kind, there have been cases where curse scars hurt from time to time depending on certain variable, so I'll look into that for you. This recurring dream you've been having is what interests me the most. From the sound of it, it seemed very real." I hummed quietly, trying to think. "I wouldn't worry about it for now, you said you wrote to my dad, right? He might have a better idea about what's going on in that head of yours." Tapping him lightly on the brow, I smiled. "Curses always leave a mark, maybe this is the mark that's been left on you, the ability to glimpse into old Voldy-Moldy's head to see what's going on. Handy, am I right?"
"I don't think he'd let you live if he ever heard you call him 'Voldy-Moldy', Mia." Harry told me tartly but I only laughed.
"It's not like you're going to rat me out, is it Harry? Come on. I can smell dinner and I'm starving." Though I didn't show it, I was now very worried about Harry's condition, I just didn't want him to see it and becoming even more concerned. His scar hurting and having recurring dreams is never a good sign, and the fact that Voldemort is involved concerns me all the more. I'll keep an eye on him and hopefully, dad will respond soon. I think I'll write to Uncle Rem too, he might have an idea about curse scars at the very least, or he'll know how to find out. It's all I can do for now, which made me feel a bit useless really. Still, I was glad Harry chose to come to me about it, even after talking with Hermione and Ron.
Our days together as one rather large family drew to a close on the rainy morning on the first of September, where it was time to return to Hogwarts. Bill dropped more hints about why this year was going to be an exciting year, and the boys had all been bought dress robes for some reason which only added to our curiosity. Fred and George's were passable, but Ron's were rather horrid, to be frank, so I promised him that if he ever had to actually wear them, I'd fix them for him so they looked better so he stopped grumbling.
It rained the entire day, and when we finally got out of the carriages to head into the castle, I lifted my wand to create an umbrella charm to keep my head dry, several other students copying my lead. Peeves didn't help when he dropped water bombs on us just as we got inside, drenching several of the students including Harry, and after McGonagall chased him down, I waved my wand again to dry off people who'd been affected before herding them into the hall, directing them as a prefect and keeping order by threatening to hex and jinx anyone who made trouble. My usual go to method.
After the sorting Dumbledore opened the feast immediately, and I appreciated the fact that he understood that hungry students would much rather eat first and listen later, keeping is introduction short and sweet as not to waste any time. Sumptuous food appeared on all of our plates and I hastily fought George over the first drumstick before elbowing him in the head whilst laughing as Fred stole my plate from in front of me and tried to hide it until I had to wrestle it back from him, fully aware of the disapproving stare we were receiving from McGonagall.
We enjoyed our feast, though I noticed that Hermione had stopped eating after a while but I was too far away to ask her what was wrong. She didn't even touch pudding either, which was even better than the main course. Anyway, once our plates vanished, Dumbledore proceeded with his usual notices. No magic in the hallways, banned items, Forbidden Forest was forbidden, Hogsmeade…quidditch was cancelled – what? Quidditch was cancelled?! Everyone on the team all looked gobsmacked, staring at one another in confused bewilderment.
"This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the 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…" Without warning, a thunderclap of sound buried Dumbledore's voice from the enchanted ceiling above at the same moment the doors were flung open to reveal a rain sodden man in a thick black travelling cloak with a staff in hand. I blinked in surprise, taking him in.
With every other step a resounding thud followed and I realised that one of his legs was prosthetic, which I found intriguing, but none more than his face. More precisely, the eye that was attached in a socket over his face, bulbous and clearly out of place on his misshapen and heavily scarred face. I thought he looked wicked cool. The newcomer walked all the way up to Dumbledore at his own pace, ignoring the stairs of everyone else in order to shake hands with the headmaster, exchange a few words before then taking up a seat at the high table. Once he started eating, Dumbledore introduced him.
"May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Moody." The only reason I recognised the name was because Arthur Weasley had mentioned him that very morning. Mad-Eye Moody, people called him, and I could see why. Nobody clapped save for Dumbledore and Hagrid at first, the rest of the hall remaining silent.
"Oh for heaven's sake, people!" Breaking the silence I stood up and clapped with volume and vigour, not caring about the looks I was getting as Dumbledore smiled to me, lifting his clapping hands higher as Fred and George both jumped up to join me, Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny following, then gradually it had a knock on effect. It wasn't a thunderous applause, but a polite one at the very least as Gryffindor house lead and the others followed, though Slytherin only gave a half-hearted effort, those slimy sleezeballs.
"Yes, yes, thank you Miss Black. As I was saying, we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event which 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!" Fred responded, perhaps a little more loudly than he intended as his ears went a little pink though people laughed all the same.
"I am not joking, Mr Weasley, though now 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…" I would have gladly heard a joke from Dumbledore, but McGonagall cleared her throat to politely bring him back on point. "Er – but maybe this is not the time…no. 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 know will forgive me for giving a short explanation and allow their attention wander freely." Dumbledore really was the best headmaster. Slightly bonkers, a little barmy, but utterly excellent, and a cracking sense of humour certainly didn't hurt either.
"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."
"This sounds like my kind of tournament." I mused thoughtfully, only half serious as Dumbledore continued, telling us that there had been several attempts to reinstate the tournament without success, but this time around, things had worked out.
"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 their school and a thousand galleons personal prize money." Immediately Fred and George wanted all in and I knew exactly what was going through their minds. Money to start their business, but I couldn't help but feel a twinge of concern. What if they get hurt? Though, I needn't have worried considering what Dumbledore said next.
"Eager tough I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts, 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 allowed to put forward their names for consideration." A burst of protest sounded from all four tables, most strongly from the twins until I'd grabbed their arms and pulled them back into their seats so I could hear what Dumbledore was saying. "This 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."
"What rubbish!" Fred growled under his breath, both of them exceedingly incensed by the age restriction since they wouldn't be seventeen until April. I hushed him quietly, listening to the end of Dumbledore's speech before we were all sent off to bed.
"They can't do that!" George proclaimed hotly as we all started to get up. "We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a shot?"
"They're not stopping me entering. The champions will get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally, and a thousand galleons prize money!" We all stood together with Harry, Ron and Hermione joining us.
"Aren't you boys forgetting? I turn seventeen at the end of September. I could enter." I started excitedly, already gearing up for the thrill of the challenges. "Don't worry, if I win the prize money, it's all yours." I added, seeing Fred and George's faces. They broke out into grins, ruffling my hair affectionately but insisting they were going to give it a try nonetheless. It was all anyone could talk about now, the tournament, and as I made my way up to my room I was already constructing a letter to dad in my head, telling him that I planned on entering and hoping that he'd approve of my decision, because I knew he'd have done exactly the same thing.
