The First Competition
Sept. 23rd, 1994
Reading about the history of the Tournament has not done much to increase my confidence. To be sure, some ideas seem rather absurd for us today. For example, they had three female champions back in 1665;so they wanted to be very original and have them ride a unicorn through a wall of fire, and were nonplussed when none of the three girls could even get near the beast. Not that it would happen to me, but definitely a stupid idea, - what would they have done if one of them had been able to do it? She wouldn't have won for any magical prowess of hers, would she? Apparently they substituted plain white horses for the unicorns, and hushed everything up as best as they could.
However, there were also some pretty frightful tasks – and accidents - during the centuries. Who in their right minds would set creating a bottomless hole as a task for a competition? Today we all know, of course, that they are there in outer space, but we also know that they are terribly dangerous, and can get out of control quite easily. Obviously, in 1435, they did not know about this, and so it became a task for the Tournament. The Durmstrang champion created the most impressive hole, but unfortunately, it swallowed him up, and he was never seen again. So, even if his school was proud to win the Cup, I doubt his friends and family were very happy about it. And scores of the most accomplished wizards of their time had to work awfully hard to get rid of that hole again. Other tasks involved manticores, all kinds of dragons, and even a basilisk in 1715 (the Cup went to the basilisk, as all three champions were killed by it). This was the reason why they abolished the Tournament. They tried, apparently, to revive the tradition, but none of these attempts was very successful. After, in 1792, all three heads of the participating schools had been injured (and they were just watching!), no further attempts were made. Typical, isn't it – as soon as their own precious lives were in danger they stopped it for good!
Mme. Maxime has announced that there will be twelve students accompanying her to Hogwarts, and as there are about fifty applications, the shortlist competitions are going to start next week. There will be three tests to take, and those who perform best will be on the delegation.
Sept. 28th, 1994
The first test has been announced, and it doesn't sound too difficult, really, nor dangerous. Each candidate got a piece of parchment with a clue that we are to work out and then act on it the day after tomorrow. Mme. Maxime exhorted everyone not to help each other as she would find out and the people concerned would be taken off the list immediately. I don't think she needed to stress that, everybody is eager to be chosen, so there's no danger anyone could be tempted to increase a rival's chances, anyway.
The clue is this:
"There is a patient in the infirmary, with these symptoms: Pale, waxen skin, cold and hard to the touch, shallow breathing, slow and irregular heartbeat, unable to move any limbs, or to speak, wide, staring, unblinking eyes, no reaction to any external stimulus. Cause of condition unknown, but apparently not a spell. Design a remedy, and prepare it, ready for use. Your remedy will be tested, and points awarded accordingly.Deadline for handing in the remedy: Sept. 30th, noon."
These symptoms sound very much like the effects of Petrificus – but it says it's no spell. Is there a potion or something that causes similar things? And I wonder, - have they made up the whole thing, or is there really such a patient? It would help a lot if I could actually see these symptoms myself. Well, no harm in checking first thing tomorrow.
Sept. 29th, 1994
9 o'clock - Went to the infirmary before breakfast. They really have a case with these symptoms there!
I was right, after all, the symptoms are almost exactly like those of the Petrificus curse, but of course they haven't made it that simple! So I skipped breakfast altogether and went straight to the library to grab the Potions Lexicon before the rest of the crowd would make a dash for it. Indeed, there is a potion that produces the same effects as the curse, with the important difference, however, that the effects are lasting, and can only be removed by a counter-potion.
So far, so good, but the ingredients! Salamander scales, bloodwort, mandrake powder are all very well, every student has them in their regular supplies, but – Rokh's feathers? Where am I supposed to get those? I've only ever heard of this bird in the Tales of Sinbad, which we read in Histoire de Magique, and I'd never have thought it would come up useful some time. So, does this mean there are Rokhs here in the mountains? There have to, or it would make no sense setting this task, would it?
11 o'clock – Took the Lexicon back and was almost lynched by the mob who'd been looking for it. I daresay it improved my image as a mean bitch no end. In the uproar, I managed to sneak out with "Animaux phantastiques" without anybody noticing. Seems I'm a step ahead of the others.
Not that it does me much good. The Rokh, the book says, lives high up in the mountains and builds its nest on steep rocky peaks near the snow line. A full-grown Rokh can be as big as a horse, and its wings can span eight metres. It usually eats carrion, but doesn't say no to any fresh meat it can get easily. That means, for example, any Beauxbatons student foolish enough to go near it. Apparently, it drops large rocks on you from high up. So much for "not dangerous"! Luckily, due to its size, it is not very fast, nor clever, and can be outwitted rather easily, at least this is what the book says.
11.30 – Margaux Bellefontaine, a seventh year girl to whom I have spoken once or twice these years, has tracked me down, and demanded I give her the book this instant. Clever of her, to think of that, I believe all the others are still turning the library upside down for it. I thanked her for taking it off my hands, and handed it to her, not without the friendly advice not to let herself get caught with it unless she wanted to get tarred and feathered. She looked at me in a way that suggested she didn't quite appreciate my concern for her well-being.
11 pm. – I'm absolutely knackered, but simply have to tell this before going to bed. The tension among the candidates at lunch was tangible. Sour looks darted from one to the others, and there was hardly even the normal small talk. And everybody disappeared immediately afterwards.
Thankfully, I'm the only sixth year who has applied for the Tournament, so I could tell Charmaine what I'd found out so far, but as I'd expected she was not really any help. About the only thing she said was that I was totally off my rocker, and that it would serve me right if that big ugly bird had me for breakfast, - but she did say that in several interesting ways.
"I don't understand it!" she said after her third or fourth variation concerning my sanity, "You'd think they'd run into a heap of problems with the parents, if students get harmed or even killed only because of a stupid tournament that doesn't even take place here!"
I still don't know how or why, but at this remark something clicked into place in my head.
"Thank you;" I jumped up and ran over to hug her. "That's it, of course! You've helped me a lot, thanks once again!"
And when she looked at me with that incredibly blank expression of hers, - though I can't really blame here this time, to be just, - I told her, "I'm sorry I can't tell you now, I must run!"
I dashed out of the dormitory and over to the broom sheds (What a piece of luck broom flying is compulsory here, mother would never have let me choose it.), got out my broom and started up into the air. The idea that Charmaine had given me, was, of course, that the staff of the school would have arranged precautions to protect the contestants, and if I was lucky, I'd notice the preparations for these precautions and so would get a hint where to look for the Rokh, or rather its feathers, as I wasn't really too keen on getting eye to eye with a bird as big as a horse, if I could help it.
Soon I was circling high above the chateau,keeping a close watch of the mountain range. And indeed, suddenly I saw something glitter near the top of one of the high peaks, a regular glitter in long and short intervals, obviously a sign. I grabbed my broom in a firm grip and zoomed off towards the peak
It took me about twenty minutes to get near the peak, with the signal guiding me conveniently. When I could already make out details of the rocky precipices, I slowed down to think. If I was right, and there really was a Rokh anywhere near, it would be rather unwise to be as conspicuous as I was. After a short moment, I remembered just the spell I needed.
"Cumulus!" I said quietly, and at once was enveloped in a dense white cloud that, at least to a spectator from a distance, would look quite normal. Of course, my own sight was also reduced, but I had to be careful and couldn't fly so fast anyway. The blinking light still kept guiding me along.
Soon I was only a few metres from the cliffs that were almost vertical in this part of the mountain, and at last I could make out the source of the light. On a narrow ledge in the sheer rock face, a large silver mirror had been mounted that kept turning regularly, reflecting the light of a white glowing stone beneath it. Next to it, a hooded figure, tightly wrapped in a grey cloak was squatting against the rocks. When he looked up, I recognised Professor Sangfroid, the Care of Magical Creatures teacher. I couldn't tell whether he had seen me, at any rate, he gave no sign that he might have, though he did look in my direction once or twice.
I was satisfied with myself, obviously I had guessed correctly.So I started to ascend along the rock face, keeping a close lookout. Slowly the cold of the high altitude, together with the biting wind was creeping through my robes, and my fingers had turned to ice.
Even though I was fully alert, the horibble screech nearly made me fall off my broom. Foolishly I had closely observed the rocky surface in front of me and more or less neglected to watch out for any dangers behind me. And of course that's exactly where the monstrous bird appeared. All I could see in the split second before I pulled into a steep dive was a whirl of brown and grey feathers and a very distinct glimpse of enormous glinting talons.
After plummeting for some fifty metres, I steadied my broom to catch my breath again. Cursing myself for my carelessness, I renewed the Cumulus charm, which obviously had worn thin during the last minutes, and slowly ascended again. The Rokh was nowhere to be seen, and I wasn't at all unhappy about it. Soon I reached my former height again, and a few minutes later was level with the very top of the mountain. Still wrapped in my cloud, I landed noiselessly and looked around. And indeed,only a couple of metres away, behind what looked like a low stone wall, I could hear an unmelodious screeching and squawking. Carefully, my wand at the ready, I crept forward. And when I finally peered over the wall, there it was, I was looking directly into the montrous bird's nest.
Young birds are rarely a pretty sight, and the baby Rokh was no exception. Big as a cat, almost naked, with just a few stubbly quills sticking out of ist skin giving it the appearance of an oversized hedgehog with a huge curved beak, it was squatting in the nest looking in my direction with ist enormous beady eyes.
But I had not come to admire a cute baby bird, anyway, I was a lot more interested to find that the bird was sitting on a thick layer of brown and grey fearthers, obviously mama's and papa's.
"Accio!" I pointed my wand at the nest.
I have no idea what went wrong, perhaps I didn't speak loudly enough, or perhaps I had pointed my wand at the wrong angle, the fact is, instead of a feather sailing graciously into my hand, there was a frightened screech, and the ugly fledgeling was sailingat me full speed, knocking me right off my feet.
"Merde!" I muttered, grabbing the bird in both my hands, and at the same time putting a silencing charm on the excited creature, which wasn't so easy as I had dropped my wand in my first shock.
Now I had to be really fast. The noise was sure to have alarmed the big birds, and it would only be a mater of very few minutes until they'd appear. There was absolutely no time to lose.
"Shut up!" I hissed at the small monster as I dumped it unceremoniously back into the nest. Then I stooped, grabbed a handful of feathers and shoved them in my pocket, jumped over to where I had dropped my broom.
Not a minute too soon! The same moment that I kicked off the ground there was the swoosh of the gigantic wings in the air and the deafening screech was almost splitting my ears. I felt a searing pain in my shoulder as I flattened myself along the brrom handle and sped away.
Back at the castle, all I wanted to do was to collapse on my bed. I staggered into the dormitory, but unfortunately Charmaine was there, and there was no way I was going to get any rest soon.
"You look horrible!" she exclaimed and rushed towards me. "For Merlin's sake, you're hurt!" she added when she noted the long gash on my shoulder. "What happened?"
I really didn't feel like talking at all, but I knew she wouldn't leave me alone beore she had heard everything.
"All right," I told her, "but lend me a hand with this injury, will you?"
While she was helping me to take off my rtobes and to put some healing ointment on the nasty scratch the Rokh's talons had given me, I told her the whole story.
"A narrow escape!" she said after I had finished. "Sangfroid did take his time to show up, didn't he? If that's what he was there for at all."
"I don't know, and I don't give a damn," I sighed wesrily. "It's over, and it's worked out, that's it, as far as I am concerned. Now, if you don't mind, I really have to get some sleep."
"But they'll miss you at dinner."
"I doubt it, they'll all be wrapped up in their own problems; anyway, if someome does ask, just tell them some story, you're good at inventing stories, aren't you? Just don't tell them what I've really done."
Yes, it's been quite a day, and I still have to mix the potion first thing tomorrow morning.
Sept. 30th, 1994
It turns out that most of the contestants were thinking on similar lines as me, and quite a few have managed to get those stupid feathers. Unfortunately, not all of them have been as lucky, and at least four have ended up in the infirmary with the souvenirs from their encounter with the Rokh. One of them is Yves, which has certainly not improved Charmaine's mood; she went into hysterics this morning, when the news spread, and rushed to see him immediately. At least, this time, there is no way she could possibly blame me for it.
When I arrived in the potions classroom, I noticed the field of competition had already considerably narrowed, although it was still pretty crowded. People were shooting dirty looks at each other, jealously guarding their ingredients, and furiously stirring their cauldrons. Luckily, the actual brewing of the potion itself only takes about an hour, so we were finished soon, and trooped up to the infirmary to hand in our accomplishments for testing.
I had wondered, shortly, how they'd be testing some thirty potions on one patient, but it soon became clear that Professor Bonsecours, the potions teacher, would only analyse each concoction to see whether it was really effective. The "patient" had just been a fake. I wish they'd used real patients, and a fake Rokh instead!
Anyway, after lunch, the intermediate results of the competition were announced. It seems that although I never noticed, they were indeed keeping a close watch on us, because they didn't only award points for the correct potion itself but also for the ways that were employed to get at the feathers. "Mlle. Delacours, 100 points for being first to arrive at the right place, plus ten points for a clever use of a Cumulus charm, however, minus 25 points for clumsy wand work, and resulting injury..."
Well, no matter, I'm in fourth place with my 85 points, which isn't so bad, considering I'm the only sixth year. Mama will love to hear it, and there's no harm in being in her good books again. You never know when you'll need it. And I'll send zapped up account of my encounter with the Rokh; she'll be thrilled, and so proud of her big sister!
A/N: Two questions to the attentive reader:
a) Why could those girls not go near the unicorns in the Tournament in 1665?
b) In which book does someone have to create a bottomless hole at a competition, and is then swallowed up by it?
Enjoy, and give me feedback!