While riding to the castle, the rain came down even harder and the wind almost knocked over several carriages. The lightening crashes temporarily lit up the sky, showing a silhouette of Hogwarts. Several windows had an orange light flickering. Isabella thought of the Academy of Fine Magic, which had been hidden in an old warehouse. Headmistress Fir had placed several charms on the building, so Muggles never destroyed it. The carriage stopped in front of great oak doors. Bridgette and Isabella dashed up the front steps, both girls holding their robes over their heads. The entrance hall had gorgeous marble staircase. "Our old school has nothing on Hogwarts," Bridgette muttered.
They hurried to join Harry, Hermione and Ron, who were trying to dry off. "The lake is going to overflow if this rain doesn't let up," Ron griped, shaking water from his hair. "I'm still trying to figure out what all the secrets are all about. What is going - HEY?"
A red balloon burst over Ron's head, drenching him once more. "PEEVES!" a professor shouted, slipping and sliding across the slick floor. The ghost floating overhead cackled as he threw a yellow balloon at Isabella. Bridgette whipped out her wand and used a Levitation Spell to stop the balloon. "That's a very impressive spell, young lady. Do you know the spell that affects ghosts and poltergeists?"
"Professor McGonagall, there aren't any spells that can affect a ghost or poltergeist," Hermione objected.
"Watch and learn, fourth year," Bridgette said. She pointed her wand directly at Peeves. "There's a reason I'm ranked as America's smartest witch. Skurge!"
Peeves was hit and he disappeared through the ceiling. Professor McGonagall seemed very impressed with Bridgette's knowledge of defense spells. Hermione didn't look too happy. All of the sopping students were sent in the Great Hall for the Sorting Ceremony. There were four long tables packed with students and every table seated a different house. Isabella spotted Malfoy, so she pulled Bridgette towards their table. "Mind if we sit here?" Isabella asked taking a seat by Malfoy, thinking he might act civilized.
"Sure, by the way this is Crabbe and Goyle. Guys, meet Isabella Scott and Bridgette Welch. They're from the Academy of Fine Magic in America," said Malfoy. Several other Slytherins recognized their names but didn't ask for an autograph, like most people did. There was an air of mutual respect at the table. Some students at the other tables were staring at the two new girls. Isabella pretended to be fascinated with the gold plates and goblets in front of her. There were hundreds and hundreds of candles floating overhead. The ceiling was bewitched to look like the night sky, complete with occasional flashes of lightening.
A few ghosts were wandering around. There was Nearly Headless Nick, whose head hadn't been entirely decapitated, Peeves, a poltergeist who raised hell and the Bloody Baron, Slytherin's resident ghost. A boy named Warrington introduced himself to Isabella. He was a big guy for his age, but he was very kind. "I don't mean to pry but you are a terrific Quidditch player. What brings you to Hogwarts?" Warrington asked.
"My school burned down and my mother went to school here, so it only seemed natural that I came here. Judging from the people in my house, I think I'm going to love it here," Isabella replied, forgetting her former impressions of Slytherins, as a group of drenched and frightened first years entered the Great Hall. She looked past the young students to a table up front where the professors sat. Malfoy pointed to each professor and explained who each one was. Professor Sinistra was the head of the Astronomy department and Professor Sprout, with her bushy, gray hair sticking out from under her hat, taught Herbology.
There was also a tiny person sitting on a big pile of cushions. "That's Professor Flitwick, he teaches Charms. Over there is the Potions master and head of our house, Professor Snape," Draco said, pointing to the other side of Professor Sinistra. Isabella and Bridgette turned their attention towards the wizard wearing all black. Professor Snape was sallow skinned, hook-nosed and his hair looked greasy. There was an empty seat reserved for Professor McGonagall.
In the middle of the staff table sat the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. He was the reason Isabella and Bridgette were back in school. The candlelight made his silver hair and beard gleam. His robes were dark green with moons and stars embroidered on it. Dumbledore stared at the ceiling, as though he was fascinated with it for some strange reason. There was nothing to look at other than the purple and black clouds. Every time lightening flashed outside, a bolt of lightening dashed across the ceiling. "How long is this Sorting Ceremony supposed to last? I'm so hungry I could eat a full grown dragon," Isabella groaned.
"All the first years have to be placed in their house, and then we can eat. I hope we get loads of new Slytherins," Warrington said, eagerly rubbing his hands together. The doors to the Great Hall opened and everyone fell completely silent. Professor McGonagall came in, followed by many terrified first years. The young ones were soaked, like they'd had to swim across the lake. There was one small girl who looked like she wanted to run away. "Get on with it. We're starving over here."
Professor McGonagall placed a three legged stool in front of the first years and held up an old hat. Bridgette remembered when she had to sit under that hat. "You're very smart and dedicated, meaning you have ambition. Slytherin would be great but clever witches like you go in Ravenclaw. Then again, you seem to be perfect for Hufflepuff. You are a candidate for Gryffindor as well. This may take a minute," the hat said. Bridgette sat silently for almost fifteen minutes while Sorting Hat thought. Isabella had already been placed in Slytherin. "I've made my decision! She shall be a Slytherin!"
"Stewart Ackerly!" Bridgette watched as a small boy had the Sorting Hat placed on his head. He sat on the stool, nervously waiting to hear what house he'd be in.
"Ravenclaw!" the hat announced. Isabella glanced at her friends in Gryffindor. Harry seemed to be staring at a girl sitting at the Ravenclaw table. Suddenly, Isabella wanted to be a Gryffindor instead of a Slytherin.
"Malcolm Baddock!"
"Slytherin!"
Bridgette clapped for Malcolm Baddock as he joined the table. She wasn't excited about the whole ceremony. It seemed repetitive and only two people had been sorted. Everyone else at the table was cheering excitedly for the newest member in the house. Fred and George hissed to show their disapproval. Briefly, Bridgette caught George's glance. He smiled at her and waved. She blushed, hoping none of the other Slytherins could see her face.
"Owen Cauldwell!"
"Hufflepuff!"
"Dennis Creevey!"
"Gryffindor!"
Across the Hall, Isabella saw Harry shaking his head when Dennis Creevey became a Gryffindor. A boy who looked like an older version of the boy who'd just been sorted pointed at Harry. There were two Creeveys now instead of one. The Sorting dragged on. Each terrified first year was placed in the appropriate house. "We didn't make such a big deal about the Sorting at the Academy," Bridgette muttered, resting her chin in her hand.
"That's because we didn't have different houses there. Headmistress Fir believed in cooperation between all witches and wizards so she randomly placed us in rooms with other students," Isabella sighed, desperately trying to stay awake. The hat announced that Orla Quirke became a Ravenclaw. "At least we get to eat soon. They wouldn't starve us, would they?"
Kevin Whitby was placed in Hufflepuff and the Sorting ceremony finally ended. Food magically appeared on the golden plates. "This is the best part of the ceremony," Warrington commented through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. Isabella raised her goblet of pumpkin juice in agreement. The cauldron cakes from earlier hadn't really filled her up. She couldn't wait to eat her steak. Bridgette decided to use her proper manners and not speak with her mouth full. "So, Isabella, what do you think of Hogwarts so far?"
Before she could answer, a ghost popped his head through the table. Bridgette dropped her utensils and gasped in surprise. "Don't worry about him. That's the Bloody Baron, he doesn't say much," Draco explained as the ghost made his way further down the table to scare some first years. "Surely you had ghosts at the Academy."
"We did, but the ghosts usually spent their time in the kitchens, terrorizing the house-elves. Speaking of house-elves, I wonder what happened to Nellie," Bridgette said. Nellie was a house-elf that once belonged to the Scott family. She was treated like a part of the family but was always sad. Patrick discovered that Nellie missed being with other house-elves so he released her to the Academy. "She's the only one who escaped the fire. I hope she found another job."
When dinner was done, all the leftovers disappeared and several puddings appeared. Malfoy pointed to each pudding, naming each one. Isabella wasn't sure she wanted to try a treacle tart or anything else. "Isn't there any plain chocolate or vanilla pudding?" she asked. Warrington handed her one of his desserts. "Am I supposed to eat this?"
"Yes. Since you're going to be here for a long time you'd better get used to things. You're not in America anymore," Warrington replied. That shut Isabella up. Most people never put her in her place because she was a semi-celebrity. Bridgette was the only one who could be so rude to Isabella and not get slapped. Warrington placed a spoon in Isabella's hand. In order to avoid more hostile behavior, she took a big bite of the treacle tart. It wasn't half bad but chocolate would have been better. "You see, we can settle on a compromise. It wasn't that bad, was it?"
Isabella decided to stay silent and finish the rest of the treacle tart. She should have been mad at Warrington but she wasn't. Rather, she found his assertiveness oddly intriguing. Bridgette picked up another treacle tart and a spoon. She decided to eat it since Warrington was giving her strange looks. "Hey, this is pretty good," Bridgette said, trying not to let bits of the tart fly out of her mouth. "Too bad I'm stuffed. I can't finish this."
The few remaining crumbs disappeared, leaving the golden plates sparkling clean. Dumbledore stood up making the entire Hall silent. "As many of you know, this is when I announce the rules. Mr. Filch's list of forbidden objects has gotten longer. Fanged Frisbees and Ever-bashing Boomerangs are on the list. For those of you interested in viewing all items on the list it is in Mr. Filch's office," he announced.
"We'd better check it out, just to make sure our Belchin' Chocolates aren't on there," Isabella whispered. Bridgette nodded before Dumbledore began to speak again.
"As always, the Dark Forest is off limits to all students. Hogsmeade is considered out of bounds for first and second years, as well as those who do not have permission. On a sadder note, I must tell you that there will be no Inter-House Quidditch Cup this year."
The Great Hall fell silent again. The students who played Quidditch were stunned. Across the Hall, Harry, Fred and George were in shock. Isabella was also appalled. That was the one thing she'd been looking forward to and not it was gone. Even Bridgette couldn't believe her ears. How could Quidditch get cancelled? "Hogwarts has the pleasure of partaking in a special event, one that hasn't taken place in a century. This year, the…"
Dumbledore was cut off, by thunder and the sound of the doors being thrown open. All eyes shifted to see who was coming in late. A man with a black cloak stood in the doorway. He had a cane to lean on. Lightening flashed across the ceiling, showing he had tangled iron gray hair. Everyone held their breath as he began to walk towards the teachers table. A hollow clunk could be heard with every other step he took. Minutes later, he sat down, right as more lightening crashed. Everyone let their breath out in a gasp.
His face had deep grooves running down it, like he was wearing a badly carved wooden mask. Since it didn't appear to be a mask, Isabella prayed those grooves were scars. There wasn't much of a nose and the mouth looked like a thin diagonal line. All of that was creepy but his eyes were more frightening. One eye looked normal. The other one was about the size of a Muggle half-dollar and bright blue. It never stopped moving, like it was looking for something. Briefly, the eye landed on Bridgette. She felt a chill in the air before realizing the eye was staring at her. "I hope he's not one of our professors," she said as Dumbledore approached the man.
They shook hands and spoke quietly for a few minutes. The man picked up a plate of sausages, holding it under his nose. His weird eye rolled back in his head, showing only the whites. He stabbed a sausage with a knife from his pocket. "Students, I'm pleased to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Alastor Moody!" Dumbledore announced. Normally students would applaud but only the headmaster clapped. Everyone else stayed completely silent.
"I have a feeling that we're in for a long year," Bridgette muttered.
"Moving on, a very special event will be taking place here at Hogwarts. We will be hosting a competition that hasn't been held in over a century. This year, the Triwizard Tournament will be held at Hogwarts," Dumbledore announced. Isabella was more interested in Moody, who had put his leg on the table. It was made out of wood, ending in a clawed foot. He also seemed familiar for some reason. Bridgette had read about the Triwizard Tournament once before but never knew why it stopped.
"Yes, well, the Tournament was established about seven hundred years ago to promote friendly competition the three largest schools for magic in Europe: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. One champion will be selected from each school, and they will compete in three magical tasks. This is a chance for us to establish ties with witches and wizards of different cultures. That reminds me of a change in the Tournament. For the first time ever, a fourth school will be competing.
"The headmistress of a school in America will bring a few students to Hogwarts. Actually, I received an owl from her and she only has three students who will be eligible. Well, back to the Tournament. We've been trying to reinstate the competition for quite some time. The death toll was so high that it had to be discontinued."
An excited buzz rose throughout the Great Hall. Some people were intrigued by the competition but everyone else was concerned with the death toll. Bridgette was more curious about the American school Dumbledore had mentioned. It had to be the Academy of Fine Magic he spoke of. No other school had only three eligible students.
Dumbledore cleared his throat before continuing, "Despite the gruesome history, the Department of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports has decided to let us try this competition again. Several wizards and witches worked together over the summer, including the American Minister of Magic and several American representatives. At this time, I can safely say that no champion will ever be in mortal danger. The heads of Beauxbatons, Durmstrang and the Academy of Fine Magic will arrive in October, along with their selected students.
"The champions from the four schools will be chosen on Halloween. I will not tell you who chooses which student to be a champion. This outside judge will make sure that the selected student is physically, emotionally and mentally prepared to take on the three tasks. Keep in mind that each task will be more difficult than the last. The prize for winning the Triwizard Tournament is the Triwizard Cup, glory for their school and one thousand Galleons."
Isabella glanced at Bridgette, who had a look of utter disbelief on her face. "Headmistress Fir wants us to enter the Triwizard Tournament! She thinks you and I can win. We have to win, well, one of us has to win," Bridgette said. Malfoy and Warrington looked at Isabella, who was deep in thought. There had to be a catch. A first-year was definitely not emotionally ready to compete in such a big tournament, nor was a second year.
"I have some bad news for most of you. The Ministry of Magic has set an age restriction for those who wish to compete. If you wish to try your hand at the Tournament, you must be seventeen years old or older. We feel this is necessary because the tasks are difficult and sometimes dangerous and students younger than seventeen are not quite ready to deal with them yet. For those of you who are planning to enter anyway," Dumbledore's eyes drifted over to Fred and George who looked very cross, "I will be personally making sure that you do not trick our outside judge, so save your time by not entering at all."
"Now, we do have classes in the morning and it is getting late. All of you get to bed!" Dumbledore shouted. The benches scraped against the floor as the students stood up to leave. Malfoy muttered something about the Tournament being unfair for the younger students and about "his father." Warrington held out his arm so Isabella linked arms with him. She didn't know where she was going, so her Slytherin friends had to guide her and Bridgette. Much to their surprise, the Slytherin house was a part of the dungeons. The common room had green leather furniture and it seemed unfriendly. Bridgette felt horribly out of place when she heard the password was "pureblood."
Warrington pointed to where the girl's dormitories were, explaining that boys weren't allowed in that area. Bridgette and Isabella had to share a dorm with three other girls: Mildred Waterston, Bianca Stevens and Raven Moore. "I didn't know we got to room with the new girls. Welcome to Slytherin," Bianca said, shaking hands with her new room mates. Raven and Mildred explained a few rules that had been established years earlier. There was one rule in particular that could never be broken. Any and all secrets spoken could not leave the room. If someone slipped up, she was forced to admit one of her secrets. It all seemed pretty fair. "First things first, I heard you two met Viktor Krum at the Quidditch World Cup. Is it true?"
"Yeah, we met him. It was a reward from the Ministry of Magic because of our achievements. I scored the highest marks in history on the O.W. L exams," Bridgette announced, a hint of pride in her voice.
"What was your achievement, Isabella?" Mildred asked.
"Nothing special, I'm the highest ranked Quidditch player and Beater in America. I've been number one for three years in a row. Really it's no big deal," Isabella replied quickly. She hadn't been entirely honest. Not only was she the best Beater in America, she was the only girl who'd been recognized at the age of twelve. People looked up to her because she had a Nimbus Two Thousand and refused to upgrade. Truthfully, Isabella hated being a celebrity. She wanted to be a normal sixteen year old girl in school, rather than a famous Quidditch player.
All five girls changed into their nightclothes and crawled into bed. They would have to get up early in order to get to breakfast so they could compare their class schedules. Bianca warned Bridgette and Isabella about Divination, which both girls had signed up for. "Professor Trelawney is a bit eccentric, if you understand what I mean. If she predicts your death, don't get excited. She swears someone will die nearly every day," Bianca said.
"She sounds like a hoot. I think I'll have fun in her class," Isabella sighed, staring at the ceiling. She was nervous about starting class, but her new friends were already making her feel right at home. Bridgette even felt comfortable, despite her being Muggle-born. "I can't wait for Headmistress Fir to arrive. There's so much I want to tell her."