Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

They Arrive

The afternoon of October 30th found the student body standing out front of the castle. Excitement buzzed in the air like children during major holidays while the adults ran around frazzled trying to get everything done in time. Likewise, the teachers were currently barking orders and prodding wayward students into line; anxiously stating, "They'll be here any minute".

Though not all members of staff were standing on edge. Snape, for example, already had his house organized and in line; first years in the front and seventh years in the back. They were staying put too. Standing still and straight with only Snape's unrelenting stare keeping them in place. Opposite of him, Flitwick and Sprout were bouncing about like hares evading foxes. "Miss Lovegood, where are your shoes?" Flitwick squeaked. "Davies! Put that away. This isn't a quidditch match".

"Macmillan, there's dirt on the hem of your robes", Sprout pointed out as she scurried about. Bits of hairs poked out from under the brim of her hat; speaking to her frenzy. "Abbott, stop giggling and face forward. Our guests will be arriving at any moment".

Meanwhile, Sirius and Lupin were holding Gryffindor house to different expectations. Always a team, they appeared to have split the responsibility of us by year. Lupin had the first, second, and third years well in hand. Their robes were neat as they stood quietly in order. Sirius was assigned to the upper years. Although he made no such attempts to force some sense of decorum on us. "Patil, what a lovely hair… bobble", he complimented. As if we were all behaving exactly as we were supposed to. "Ah, there you are Harry. How was potions? Better since it was cut short?"

"Filch looks like he has an ulcer", Fred said as we stood in the back of the Gryffindors. Clumped together, and not at all resembling a straight line like was expected.

Standing by the tall heavy double doors that lead into the entrance hall, Filch stood with a mop in hand and slinking around his ankles. He scowled at anyone near; ready to berate anyone who posed offense to his clean floors.

"That, or he's been constipated for too long", I commented as I buried my hands underneath the warmth of my cloak. Why couldn't we greet the other schools in the great hall? Surely, that would serve as a warmer welcome than the one we could give with our noses sniffling from the cold.

George swung an arm over my shoulders; lending me some of his cloak. "Poor sod", George played along as I leaned into him. I used to mourn the fact my fellow triplets had grown so much taller than me. But at this moment, it felt nice. "You know, that's something we can help him with. Nothing a good scare can't fix".

"Much more effective than any high fiber diet", I added; watching as McGonagall hurried over to pick on Gryffindor for being the only house still not in order.

"There are a couple of ideas we haven't tried yet", Fred said; grinning as McGonagall successfully got the fourth years to toe the line. All the while, Sirius did nothing but offer a not-so-innocent shrug. "A severed head bouncing down a staircase".

"Slime oozing out of the toilets", George suggested as McGonagall's eyes landed on us.

"A mummified chicken magically appearing in his filing cabinet", I suggested as McGonagall shook her head as she marched over.

"All for the greater good, of course", Fred said.

"Naturally", George agreed. "We'd never scare a man if it wasn't essential to his continued health".

McGonagall was standing in front of us in the next moment. It didn't matter that she hadn't heard what we were planning. Experience told her we were up to no good and that was all she needed. Her lips pressed together in a grim line. The wrinkles surrounding her mouth only made the expression stand out more. She held it for a good long moment; taking the time to stare unwaveringly at each of us in turn. "I trust the Weasley triplets can be counted on to set a good example for the younger years and not embarrass Hogwarts". McGonagall's words were pointed and her tone told us what she wasn't saying. Unfortunately for her, such tactics rarely have the desired effect on us.

"That's a mistake", we said in sync without so much as a conspiring look; responding to McGonagall's words. And not their implications.

"Honestly, Professor", Fred started.

"We thought you knew us better", George finished.

McGonagall's lips pursed as warning sparked in her pupils. But whatever threat she was about to make regarding our conduct was avoided by Flitwick calling out, "Professor McGonagall! Beauxbatons approaches!"

McGonagall spared us one last look that promised retribution before she turned. Her robes swished around her feet as she stalked back to her post. At Flitwick's shout, everyone's attention was redirected. Although it was unclear where we should look. It took a random Hufflepuff pointing to the sky and exclaiming "There!" before we found the right spot.

Off on the horizon, over the forbidden forest, a distant shape hurtled towards us. It wasn't anything to look at. Not until it got closer and we could make out the powder-blue color of a behemoth carriage and the impossibly supersized winged horses pulling it. Hogwarts' student population oohed and awed appropriately as the carriage descended. The closer it got, the more overbearing and impressive it appeared.

As the horses landed, the carriage bounced on its wheels upon impact before everything came to a halt. The teachers stood still at the front; anxiously waiting. While the students whispered and watched impatiently. Looking more like she was ready for a runway than a visit to a school, the world's largest woman stepped out of the carriage dressed in satin decorated with glittering opals.

"Madame Maxime, welcome", McGonagall said as she swept forward.

Madame Maxime smiled graciously at the approach; seemingly aware of the Hogwarts students gawking at her but choosing not to react. "Madame McGonagall", She greeted in kind as her students started filing out of the carriage behind her. "I 'ope you are well".

The beauxbaton students were poorly dressed for fall in Scotland. In robes of blue silk and with features far too… pampered, they eyed the castle with dreading unease. "Which one is our future sister-in-law?" George asked; whispering at a volume only Fred and I could hear.

"How the bloody hell should I know?" I complained. Although that didn't stop my eyes from scanning the students from France. I knew to look for a tall and shiny blonde. But from where I was standing, it was hard to make out any defining features amongst the sea of pale blue robes. "Reading about someone doesn't mean I'll be able to recognize them in person".

As the Beauxbaton students entered the castle to warm up, I turned my attention to the lake. Knowing what was coming, I didn't feel the need to speculate at the sky. The time between the first arrival and the second was enough to make us wiggle impatiently. Merlin, why couldn't the other schools have gotten here earlier? When the sun was higher in the sky and frostbite wasn't imminent.

"Look at the lake!" Lee yelled; directing everyone's attention.

At the center of the black deep waters of the lake were bubbles like a cauldron set to boil. Waves were lapping at the rocky and muddy banks as if there had been a change in the tide. Even though lakes don't experience tides. Slowly, like the loch ness monster emerging from the depths to take a peak, a long dark wooden beam started raising from the water.

A crow's nest, sails, and the like soon followed as Soon, we were staring at a whole ship. The make of it looked dark and weathered as green-tinted light shined eerily from its portholes. It reminded me of the Flying Dutchman. A thought that had me shivering extra hard into George's side. Merlin, here's to hoping those stories don't have any shred of truth. The wizarding world doesn't need any more bad omens.

The anchor was dropped with a resounding splash and planks were lowered. Then people were disembarking; moving at the pace of a funeral procession rather than travelers reaching the end of their journey. The closer they got, the more we could make out. They were a sturdy bunch. And much more suited for the cold than the Beauxbaton students. Around each of their shoulders were cloaks of fur varying in color. And upon their heads were hats of similar make; pulled down to their eyebrows and protecting their ears.

"Minerva McGonagall!" The leading man announced once he was close enough to be heard. He held his arms away from his person in a warm greeting as he continued to approach. The most noticeable traits about this character were his slim frame and curly goatee that made him look like a pitiful cartoon villain.

"Igor", McGonagall returned the greeting in kind. Although without the same level of energy.

As soon as they were close enough, Igor Karkaroff grabbed McGonagall's extended welcoming hand and placed an obnoxious and forward kiss on the back of it. Even though that was not McGonagall's intention when she offered it. Judging from her uncomfortable wince. Not that Karkaroff seemed to notice. As his students came to a stop behind him; looking straight ahead with no curious glances, Karkaroff peered up at the castle with an expression I'm sure he believed to be charming. "Ah, Hogwarts", he said as if struck by nostalgia. "Hasn't changed at all", he stated with a grin; revealing yellowed teeth to all who were close enough to see.

With that pleasantry out of the way, Karkaroff turned to the side and beckoned with one arm. "Viktor, come here", he said; keeping his eyes on McGonagall to ensure she was watching. "We can't keep you in the cold. Please don't regard this as rude, Mistress. Viktor is slightly under the weather. I'm sure you understand. Having students of your own to care for".

Out of the crowd of stocky and stoic Durmstrang students came the famous features of thick eyebrows, a nose that had been broken a few too many times, and an annoyed scowl. "Harry! It's Krum", I heard Ron exclaim over by the other fourth-year Gryffindors. Which was exactly what Karkaroff wanted if the upturn of his lips were anything to go by.

"Not at all", McGonagall said; her manner poised as she used the distraction Krum's presence afforded her to wipe the back of her kissed hand on her robe. It was minuscule, but I thought I saw Krum's mouth quirk in humor at McGonagall's action. "I'm sure all the students, yours and mine, are in need of warming up. Right this way", she directed. Walking shoulder to shoulder with Karkaroff and the Bulgarian quidditch player, McGonagall led the way into the castle. The remaining Durmstrang students followed. Then Hogwarts' teachers and staff. And finally, us; the peons who make up Hogwarts' student body.


The feast held to honor Hogwarts' guests was one for the record books. Not only were the signature dishes from UK culture present. But that French and Eastern European food as well. Given the bland nature of a lot of our palates, this was a nice change. Though it's a pity we couldn't also host the magical academies from Brazil and Japan. Then our taste buds really would get a treat.

Occupants in the great hall seemed to be divided on what they considered most interesting. For some, it was filling their bellies. While others it was discussing the foreign guests. No one seemed that interested in the ministry officials also attending the feast; I didn't even spare them a glance. Fred, George, and I fell in the first category; happily trying stuffed cabbage rolls and egging each other on to be the first to put escargot into their mouths. Lee, Angelina, and Alicia fell in the second category. "They look more approachable than Beauxbatons", Alicia observed; her eyes on the Durmstrang students who decided to sit with Slytherin. "At least they're smiling".

"Oh, Merlin", Lee said as if a thought had just occurred to him. "Imagine how pretty they'll be when they smile". All Lee's attention was fixated on Ravenclaw table where Beaxbatons' students decided to sit.

Turning to Lee, Alicia scowled at him. "The girls from Durmstrang are just as pretty as the girls from Beauxbatons", she said pointedly.

"Oh, yeah. Sure", Lee agreed; sparing a quick glance at Slytherin table. "But in their own unique way. Like I bet they all have lovely… personalities".

Snorting into my water goblet, I tried to hide my reaction as Alicia and Angelina berated Lee for his comment. At least Lee was giving them something new to discuss. Before today's excitment, most conversation tended to lean towards UP's public announcement and YUP's connection to... all of it.

"Excuse me", a soft yet confident voice sounded. Quickly, my attention was pulled as my ears picked up on an exchange from where my little brother was sitting. Twisting in his seat, Ron jerked his body until he was facing the speaker; making direct eye contact with a tall and slender blonde. "Ze bouillabaisse, may I take it?"

"That's her", I said; nudging Fred and George until they were looking at the same thing I was. "Fleur", I whispered as Ron made a mockery of himself; staring at her with his mouth hanging open. Thank Merlin, Harry was there. Otherwise, it's doubtful Ron would have managed to recover on his own.

"Blimey", George said as we watched Fleur walk away with the dish carefully held in her hands. "How do you think Bill's going to manage that in a few years?"

"Don't know", Fred answered as I shrugged. "But he has all the luck, doesn't he?"

Once everyone had their fill, the food vanished and McGonagall stood; commanding the hall with her presence. "The Triwizard tournament will officially begin momentarily. Before the procedures are explained, let me introduce who we have to thank for organizing this opportunity for our schools. With a collected gesture of her hand, McGonagall moved our focus over to the two ministry officials in attendance. Unfortunately, I recognized both of them. "Ludo Bagman, head of the department of magical games and sports. And Dolores Umbridge". McGonagall grimaced as if she just smelled something unpleasant. "Interim head of the department of international magical cooperation".

A low murmur grew amongst the different student tables as our guests eyed us in confusion. The Crouch case was still fresh in our minds so we couldn't forget why an interim head was needed. Though, myself and my fellow triplets were reacting for a different reason. "Merlin, we'll be at war before the year is out. And not the one we're worried about", I whispered; glaring at the human toad as she giggled. Why does she do that anyway? Is it like a tick? A response to medication no one knows Umbridge is taking?

"What the hell is Fudge thinking?" George whispered back. Having not read the books or seen the movies Jessie had, neither he nor Fred fully understood the reign of terror that may or may not befall on Hogwarts next year. But I'd told them enough that they knew Umbridge was just a less powerful version of You-Know-Who.

"Thanks to their hard work, we are all able to gather here today", McGonagall continued. "It is only right that Mr. Bagman and Ms. Umbridge will be joining Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, and myself as judges for the tournament".

"Maybe this is a good thing", George thought aloud as Filch approached the raised dais with his arms wrapped around a bejeweled chest that was longer than his torso. "Maybe we can do enough damage now, that the toad won't want to come back next year. If things happen the same way. I'd love to try a canary cream on her".

A table was already waiting at McGonagall's side. Filch hauled his armload to sit on top of it as McGonagall continued to explain. "Three Champions. Three challenges. One champion from each school will have to face three challenges spread out through the school year. These tasks were designed to demand fine examples of magical prowess, unwavering courage, and the ability to overcome peril. Only one champion from each school may attempt these challenges. At the end of each challenge, they will be scored based on their performance. The Champion with the highest combined score will win the tournament".

Silence hung heavy in the hall as McGonagall could not speak fast enough for everyone's liking. Except for us triplets, that is. "What about a ton-tongue toffee?" I suggested. "If her tongue grows long enough, we could tie it around a… tree trunk or something and just leave her there" … For the centaurs to find.

"Shh", Angelina shushed us; sounding annoyed that we weren't as enthralled as she was.

"How will the champions be selected, you may be wondering", McGonagall went on. "To avoid falling victim to our own biases, we will be using an impartial method". Pulling her wand from the sleeve of her robe, McGonagall tapped the bejeweled chest thrice. Slowly, as if it were the door to Narnia, the chest opened with an ominous creak. With her free hand, McGonagall reached into the chest and withdrew a Hagrid-sized wooden cup. Its brim was uneven and its handle looked like it would give you splinters. But that was easy to ignore when considering the glimmering blue and white flames that looked close to spilling out of the cup. "The Goblet of Fire", McGonagall announced as she closed the chest and placed the cup on top of it. "Anyone of age who wishes to be considered for the honor of representing their school must write their name and school on a piece of parchment and place it in the flames of the goblet. Those wishing to compete will have twenty-four hours to put forth their names. Tomorrow, on All Hallows' Eve, we will have our champions".

The low murmur quickly changed into excited chatter as everyone tried to guess who the champions would be. Recognizing she'd lost us, McGonagall ended the feast; dismissing us to our beds. "I'm going to enter", Angelina announced as she eyed the Goblet of Fire with determination. "First thing in the morning, I'm going to put my name in".

"You'll be great, Ange", Alicia said as we got up and headed for the doors. "I can't think of another Hogwarts student who'd be better than you. Shame I'm not old enough. I'd like to have a go".

"Hagrid has his classes taking care of blast-ended skrewts right now, doesn't he?" Fred asked. "Wouldn't Umbridge hate to find a bunch of them waiting in her bed for her?" He proposed. "Do you think the ministry officials will be staying in the castle?"

George shrugged. "We'll have to check the map".

"What are you three talking about?" Alicia asked; turning towards us.

"Nothing", Fred and George said quickly.

"The less you know the better", George added.

"Wouldn't want-"

I tuned out whatever Fred said next; my eyes landing on a particular sight occurring at the exit. All the Durmstrang students were stopped; blocking the doors as their headmaster appeared transfixed by the sight of… Harry. Of course, it bloody had to be Harry.

Leaving Fred and George to convince Alicia and Angelina that we weren't going to do anything too painfully stupid, I pushed past students to get to the golden trio. There was something in Karkaroff's posture that set me to unease. As a reformed death eater and a bloody coward, it made sense that Karkaroff would have a reaction to Harry's presence. Everyone did. Whether they were guilty of crimes or not. As is proven by one of the Durmstrang students currently pointing to Harry's scar like it was the eighth wonder of the world.

But Karkaroff wasn't looking at Harry with shock, surprise, or hurt feelings. Instead, it was something much more skin crawling. It was a stare that had Hermione and Ron pressing protectively against Harry out of instinct. It was like Karkaroff was visiting the butchers and trying to discern which lambchop he should purchase for his dinner.

"Can I help you?" I asked in forced politeness as I shoved myself between Ron and Harry. With one arm, I pushed Harry behind me while swinging the other over Ron's shoulders. Although, I was too short to block Harry completely from view. And Ron was also too tall for me to comfortably stand like this. "You seem lost. Do you need help finding the door? It's right there", I said; politeness coming across as sarcastic as I pointed to the open double doors that were literally within touching distance of us.

Being forced to focus on some random redhead rather than the boy-who-lived, caused Karkaroff to sneer. "No thank you", he copied my politeness. "We can manage".

"After you then", I said at my best attempt at graciousness. From my side, Hermione ducked her head behind me to whisper something to Harry while Ron tried to get my arm off him. But I was unmoved. And I wouldn't be moving until Karkaroff was walking away. "Guests first and all that".

Sniffing Karkaroff started forward; leading his students once more. "Once we're back on the ship, I want all of you to turn in. Big day tomorrow!" He said as if he hadn't just blocked all of Hogwarts' foot traffic because he was scrutinizing a fourteen-year-old like a creep.

"What did you do that for?" Ron asked as we started out of the great hall again; this time successfully shrugging my arm off him.

"I didn't like how he was looking at you", I said as I looked over my shoulder to find Fred and George. They were still with Angelina and the others… I guess that's okay. I'll fill them in once we're in the common room.

"How was he looking at me?" Ron asked.

"Not you", Hermione corrected as the four of us all fell into step. "At Harry".

Embarrassed, Harry stared at his shoes and offered a hapless gesture. "That happens sometimes".

Yeah, I thought as we climbed the stairs. But not like that.