Chapter 7 – Schoolward Bound

Harry moved through the interior of the train carrying his trunk – thankfully charmed feather-light by Ernie's mother that morning – and broom in its case. He squeezed past other students who hadn't managed to find a compartment yet either while muttering apologies.

"Sorry," he mumbled as he pushed past two girls blocking the corridor with their trunks and their owls. "Just need to get past, excuse me."

Harry made sure to look inside each compartment he passed them by, but none of them contained his friends from Slytherin. Some did have people inside he knew, so he gave a little wave whenever they noticed him, but he mostly ended up pushing his way past other stragglers in the corridor.

Harry eventually found his friends near to the back end of the magically enlarged train and slipped inside the compartment with a big smile on his face. Although there were a fair number of them crammed into the small space, the Hogwarts Express compartments never seemed to get too full. He suspected some sort of expansion charm.

"Alright?" Harry asked once inside. "Can we make some space for my trunk?"

"You're a bit late," observed Blaise as he lounged across one of the seats. He didn't move to help Harry with his trunk, so Harry ignored him. Instead, Millicent got up from where Daphne had been braiding her hair to move her own trunk aside. Tracey waved at him from behind her magazine, and Theodore offered a weak smile.

"Thanks, Millie," said Harry as he slipped his trunk in the new space.

"I wasn't finished!" complained Daphne. "You've ruined it now, and I'll have to start again!" She frowned and pointed for Millicent to sit back down.

Millicent shrugged but complied anyway.

"Oh, but it is good to see you, Harry," said Daphne once Millicent had sat down. "Did you have a nice summer? I heard you met up with Tracey in Spain—that must have been lovely!"

"Er, yeah—I had a good summer actually," said Harry as he squeezed into place between Blaise and Theodore. "I saw Tracey in Barcelona, then spent the rest of the summer at Ernie's—you know, Ernie Macmillan in Huffepuff's—summer house. We went to the Cup. Met up with Theodore as well," said Harry, with a little nod in the quiet boy's direction. "Even saw Draco for a bit at the Final." Harry paused and took another look around the compartment. "Where is Draco? I thought your letter said we were all going to sit together this year…" Harry realised then that Pansy and Vince were both missing, as well as Victoria Runcorn. He couldn't say he was entirely displeased at their absence, but it was strange. "And Pansy and Victoria, too…"

Daphne sighed and took a break from braiding Millicent's hair.

"We all agreed to sit together, yes," Daphne said through her frown, "but when we found Draco on the platform before the train went, he said no. Said he wanted to go sit with Vince and Greg in their own compartment. So they did." She huffed. "But he said in his letter… oh, but it doesn't matter."

"And then when Pansy saw Draco wasn't here, she said, 'I'm not staying here with just you lot', then left with Victoria to find them," added Millicent. She shrugged. "It's not like we're going to miss them though, is it?"

"Millie!" admonished Daphne. "You shouldn't say things like that! We're meant to all be friends."

"I'm not wrong though, am I?" challenged Millicent. Daphne was silent for a few moments. Then she shook her head.

"It's just not very nice to say," Daphne said. "You aren't wrong. But it would be nicer if we could all be friends, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah, well, Pansy had her chance," muttered Millicent.

Frankly, Harry thought both Pansy and Draco had had more than enough chances to be decent people, chances over and above what either of them deserved. That things had gone the way they had was surprising only in that it had taken so long.

"Draco did ask me to come as well," Theodore said during the awkward silence after Millicent's statement. "I said no, obviously. I just thought... I mean, we all agreed with Daphne, didn't we? And I saw the three of them a lot in the summer. He even said he was still on for sitting together..."

Harry had a persistent, sinking feeling that whatever had got into Draco – and his parents, judging by Lucius's behaviour at the Cup Final – involved Voldemort in some way. Perhaps he was overreacting, seeing Dark Lords where there weren't any, but... The knowledge that Voldemort and Pettigrew were just out there in the country doing God only knew what provided Harry with fertile ground for all sorts of speculation. And Lucius Malfoy wasn't exactly clean, even if whatever he was up to had nothing to do with Voldemort. The problem was, he couldn't be sure Theodore's father wasn't involved in it, either.

"He's probably just being arsey because you told him there'd be no Quidditch this year due to the Tournament," said Blaise. "He knew about the Tournament already, but not about Quidditch, so he looked stupid when you said."

"His dad hasn't gone to the Ministry much over the summer," muttered Theodore. "So that's probably why he didn't know… but I don't think…"

"No Quidditch?" said Tracey, looking up from her magazine. "That's a shame, Harry—I knew you wanted to play this year! But what's this about a Tournament? Is that what's happening this year? Mam said it was something big but she wouldn't say what it was. Ooh, I was going to nuts all summer trying to get her to say!"

"Yeah," said Harry, "something called the Triwizard Tournament. It's this competition thingy between Hogwarts and these two other schools, um, like a French one and one that sounds German. They're coming to Hogwarts this year for it, there's even going to be a Ball. We can't do the main part, but Algie—Ernie's dad—said there's other stuff going on, too," Harry said. "There's a flying competition apparently, and I can't wait to try out my new broom for it."

"You've got a new broom?" asked Blaise. "Really? Which did you go for? He looked over at Harry's school things and saw the Firebolt in its – tastefully, in Harry's totally unbiased opinion – branded case. "Mate, that's a fucking Firebolt. You bought a Firebolt! How? They're stupidly expensive and you have to order them months in advance! Only professional players have got them!"

"I didn't buy it," Harry said. "I got it for Christmas. An old family friend, more money than sense—you know the type. I had to wait to pick it up this summer." He shrugged. "But anyway, I've got one now, and it's amazing—you probably know the specs already, right, but the words on parchment just don't do it justice at all. You can have a go once we're back at school, if you want." He paused. "After I've shown you how to handle it properly. It's a delicate piece of kit—handles well, but you've got to be expecting—"

"Oh, who cares about brooms?" said Daphne. She seemed to have more or less given up with Millicent's hair, was holding a half-done braid loosely in one of her hands. "Boys and their bloody brooms! Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students are coming to Hogwarts this year for a Ball? And nobody told me? My parents kept that secret all summer! And they must have known because my uncle works in the Department of International Magical Co-operation and he tells my father everything!"

"Well, you know now," pointed out Blaise. "So that's fine, isn't it?"

"If I'd known I would have brought some more stylish robes! And accessories! Everyone always says about how fashionable the girls from Beauxbatons are!" She sighed deeply and dropped Millicent's half-done braid. "I can't believe it! I'll have to owl home and ask them to send in some of my things!" said Daphne.

"You've got dress robes though, haven't you?" said Blaise. "We all had to bring them."

"I would have persuaded Daddy to get me some much nicer ones if I'd known why," snapped Daphne. "I could have had some made especially!"

"You don't need to worry anyway," said Millicent. "You always look pretty."

The compliment seemed to calm Daphne down, because she resumed braiding Millicent's hair.

"That's such a lovely thing to say," she said. "Thank you, Millie. I can always owl home to ask Mummy to put in an order, but it was just a bit of a shock to hear about. I'm just glad I found out about it now."

The three girls started talking about the upcoming Ball then which as far as Harry was concerned, was absolutely bonkers since it wasn't until Christmastime. Uninterested in that, Harry, Blaise, and Theodore talked instead about what the Tournament and its satellite events could have in store. That served them well until the snack trolley witch came past, and Harry bought a few of each of his favourite sweets and snacks to pass around.

"Nice one, Harry," said Millicent as she unwrapped a wriggling Chocolate Frog from its packaging.

"Yeah, thanks Harry," said Blaise.

The six children spent the rest of the train journey trading Chocolate Frog cards and stories about their summers, until the sky turned darker and it was time to change into their school robes. In what felt like no time at all, the train pulled in to Hogsmeade Station, and the six young Slytherins joined the heaving mass of students as they made their way to the thestral-drawn carriages.

Although he'd seen them at the end of the previous school year Harry hadn't been prepared for the sight of the thestrals. The near-skeletal, leathery winged horses looked wrong to him, as if they shouldn't exist – but then, he supposed that was to be expected from the kind of animal a person could only see after witnessing death. They seemed friendly enough, though, so Harry thought maybe he was being a bit unfair. The carriages were meant for four, but they split into threes – the girls and the boys – and went in like that instead. The thestrals set off regardless, so Harry supposed they didn't mind.

"What do you think the chances are of Trelawney being back this year?" asked Blaise as the carriage made its way down the lonely road from Hogsmeade Station. "We've got to do Divination this year and I'd rather the proper teacher even if she's…" He waved his hand vaguely. "Well, you've heard what they say and she can't be better than that after all that happened last year."

"Spell damage like that can be hard to fix," said Theodore. "So, maybe she won't be back at all."

"We'll see at the Feast, I suppose," said Harry. "But there's another teacher, anyway, I thought."

"Her apprentice? I suppose," said Blaise, "but you'd rather the fully qualified one, wouldn't you?"

"No, not that one," said Theodore. "The really old one, the wizard with all the hair coming out of his ears. You see him sometimes at lunch but he doesn't live in."

"Oh, yeah," said Blaise. "Well I don't want him, either – everyone says he's never made a prophecy, and at least some people think Trelawney's the real deal. And her apprentice."

"I'm not really that fussed with Divination, to be honest," said Harry. "It sounds boring." And he'd had more than enough of it already, what with there being two prophecies involving him and Voldemort, one of which he didn't even know the contents of – and the one whose contents he did know made for grim listening. It seemed almost like a cruel joke that he'd have to study the subject as well. "Alchemy sounds good, though."

"It's meant to be really difficult," said Blaise. "Almost nobody takes it past OWLs."

"Almost nobody takes it to OWL either," said Theodore. "I think it sounds interesting, too. But the teacher is supposed to be really strange."

"His apprentice is fit though," said Blaise. "Have you seen her? She walks around school with those tight robes on. You must have seen her!" He paused. "I'd take Alchemy just for lessons with her, to be honest."

"She does have a nice bum," said Theodore. "I suppose that's why she wears those robes…" He shrugged. "Well, we probably will have lessons with her this year. I was thinking about the new Defence Professor, too, since Harry…" he trailed off and glanced at Harry.

Harry assumed his sentence would have finished something like, 'since Harry killed the last one', which while a totally accurate and fair statement, did sting a bit. But Quirrell had deserved everything he'd got for working with Voldemort, going so far as to kill unicorns and let Voldemort take up residence in his head, so Harry felt like what had happened was a natural consequence of the man's actions.

"We might not even get a new one," said Harry in an attempt to brush past it. "He had two apprentices, didn't he? So maybe just one of them will take over. What's his name, and that French girl?"

"I hadn't thought about that," said Blaise. "Everyone says there's a curse on the Professorship, though, so maybe they don't even want it. There isn't enough gold in Gringotts to get me in that chair. Even the apprenticeship seems like it's cutting it fine. There's better places to go if you really want the qualification."

"That's a fair point," said Harry. "If I were them I'd be looking to get qualified sharpish and find a job basically anywhere else, if there really is a curse." He liked to think he was at least as brave as anyone else – except maybe some of the Gryffindors – but staying in a job that was cursed seemed like stupidity.

"I just hope the teachers don't go too hard this year," said Blaise. "Since there's the Tournament and all the other stuff on, as well. Seems unfair to work us like elves if we've got all that to get on with."

"Mate, the Tournament probably means they'll work us even harder than before," said Harry. "With those foreign schools in, and all those events… the teachers won't want to look shit in front of the other schools, will they?"

Blaise groaned.

"I didn't even think of that! Bugger."

Harry laughed.

"I'm going to try the events, because you have to, don't you?" said Harry. "But I reckon classes this year will be mad. We've done loads of the theory stuff last year so at least we should get to do more spells this year, but…"

"Merlin, I hope so," said Blaise.

Eventually, the thestral-drawn carriages came to a smooth stop outside the castle's main door, and the students descended from them and swarmed into the school. The incoming first years hadn't yet crossed the lake, so the four House tables in the candlelit Great Hall seemed a bit empty to Harry's eyes once everyone had been seated. At least he no longer had to sit at the end of the table – as second years, they'd been moved up just a little further away from the teachers' table, which would be a godsend once the new first years filled up the space.

Harry scanned the head table, sat on its raised dais and filled to the brim with teachers and other members of staff, for a glimpse of any new additions. He saw all the old faces – Professor Sprout sat between Flitwick and Hagrid the groundskeeper; a scowl-faced Professor Snape who was sat being talked at by a rosy-faced woman Harry didn't recognise; Professor Sinistra wearing a long, spiral hat like an exotic shell; and the whole host of apprentices and adjunct professors and assistants – although not Professor Trelawney.

A horrifically scarred middle-aged wizard sat next to Dumbledore. He had chunks missing from his nose, and an electric blue, frenetic prosthetic eye that seemed to look everywhere and nowhere particular all at once. With his normal eye, he scanned the tables full of students with an almost blank expression on the rest of his face.

Harry nudged Theodore.

"I bet that's our new Defence teacher."

Theodore turned to look, and then grimaced.

"I know who that is," he said. "It's Mad-Eye Moody—he was an Auror during the War. He's… He accused my dad of… I mean, they could never prove anything, because he wasn't—but…"

"I did read something about that," said Harry, cutting the other boy off. "There was no conviction, or even a charge, right?" He didn't feel like dragging out the issue any longer, and since they'd never spoken about it before, he didn't want Theodore to feel like he had to explain. Whatever his father had or hadn't done was nothing to do with Theodore. And it was all a matter of public record, anyway. No sense raking him over the coals. "He was the one who brought in Draco's father, though, wasn't he?"

"He was responsible for loads of the arrests," said Theodore. "And he was very… er, outspoken after the trials ended and some of his arrests didn't end in conviction. He never let it go. I think Draco's dad actually sued him over it…" Theodore said quietly.

Harry glanced at Draco, who was sat between Vince and Pansy, glowering and not saying much at all. He could well believe that Lucius Malfoy had sued, and in a way Harry couldn't blame him – it was the sort of thing anyone would want to put a stop to, especially if they really hadn't been a Death Eater – but Harry couldn't say he believed Malfoy's claims of innocence either.

"Lessons this year are going to be interesting," muttered Harry. Several of the students in his class were the children of accused Death Eaters, and he knew that there were other students in other years and Houses who were related to convicted Death Eaters as well. Harry felt like having a former Auror responsible for their capture on the staff might lead to a bit of friction, so he hoped that Dumbledore knew what he was doing in that regard.

Although it was nice to think that unlike the previous year, this Mad-Eye Moody fellow seemed highly unlikely to be a personal problem for Harry. That was a good thought even if he did feel sorry for some of his friends.

Dumbledore gestured to the students in the Hall to quieten down, and the din slowly fell away. Once the students already present had quietened enough, the waiting first years started to trickle into the Hall.

"There aren't many of them this year," he murmured to Theodore once the Great Hall doors had shut behind all the first years.

"Thirty-five, this year," whispered Theodore. "Smallest year on record—post-Statute, anyway. They did a bit in the paper about it last week. Usual proportion of Hogwarts refusals, and… well, you can see how it went."

Harry did the calculation in his head and realised that the incoming first years represented the last cohort of babies born during the Blood War. No wonder there hadn't been all that many – how many people actively wanted to have a baby in the middle of a civil war? Add in the usual number of students who refused a place at Hogwarts and Harry could see why the incoming year was so small.

"Do we know any of them?"

Theodore shrugged.

"Don't think so."

"Oi, you pair! Shut it!" hissed one of the new prefects from slightly further down the table. "The Hat's about to sing!"

The Hat sang a different song than it had the year before, which did surprise Harry a little, although he supposed it wasn't too strange since the Hat presumably had an entire year of sitting around doing nothing at all, so it certainly had the time to think about song lyrics. The message behind the song, however, was more or less identical to the one at Harry's Sorting. It extoled the virtues of each of the Houses, and gave a little bit of the history of the school, and essentially made clear everyone would have somewhere to go.

Harry spent more time looking at the new students than listening to the song. Several of them seemed completely and utterly awed by the surroundings, and he assumed they were the new muggleborns. He'd never been anywhere like Hogwarts until last year – some muggle castles and stately homes, which had nothing like the sheer gravitas of Hogwarts, and even Diagon Alley couldn't quite compare – so he understood how they might be feeling.

The Hat eventually finished its song and the Hall burst out into a chorus of claps. Once the noise had died down, McGonagall called the first new student to sit under the Sorting Hat.

"Baker, Yvonne!"

A tiny, extraordinarily pale little girl who appeared dwarfed in her robes and wizard hat shuffled forwards to sit on the Hat's stool. She sat under the Hat for nearly three minutes until eventually, the Hat called out her new House.

"Slytherin!"

The rest of the school gave out a few polite claps, but several of the students at the Slytherin table cheered. Harry clapped along with his friends, just happy that the first new student had come to Slytherin. She seemed unsure where to go until Gemma Farley stuck up her hand and waved her over. She sat at the Slytherin table, an uncertain look on her face. Harry supposed it was difficult being the very first person Sorted, as she had to sit right next to one of the second years. At least she'd ended up next to Florence Nettlestalk and not Pansy.

The Sorting carried on swiftly after that, with the next two additions both going to Slytherin as well – a set of identical twin girls by the name of Carrow, each of whom spent barely half a minute under the Hat – although the next lot of first years after them were all bound for Houses other than Slytherin. Cox, Kevin went to Ravenclaw, and Creevey, Colin to Gryffindor, while Down, Katherine ended up in Hufflepuff.

"Gamp, Edward!" called McGonagall.

A tall, and very fat, young blond boy waddled forward and sat on the stool. Edward Gamp reminded Harry very strongly of his cousin Dudley, if Dudley had dressed up in a robe and Hogwarts hat. The boy spent nearly five minutes under the Hat, stopping just a few seconds short of being a Hatstall, if Harry's watch was right, but in the end joined Yvonne Baker and the Carrow twins at the Slytherin table.

The next two students went to Hufflepuff, before both 'Harper, Alexander' and 'Hopkirk, Andrew' went to Slytherin. By that point the Sorting was about a third of the way through, and Harry felt like Slytherin had done quite well. After that there were no more additions to Slytherin House until the list of names reached the letter R, when a Rookwood and a Rosier both joined the House to a rather muted applause. By the time that happened there were only a handful of students left to be Sorted, a couple of boys and a lone girl.

The two boys were Sorted, one to Hufflepuff and the other to Ravenclaw, leaving the girl stood at the front of the Great Hall alone. McGonagall called her name.

"Weasley, Ginevra," said McGonagall.

The girl, who on a second look Harry could definitely tell was a Weasley, given her shock of red hair and the particular set of her chin, strode purposefully up to the Hat and sat it on her head.

"Another bloody Weasley," Harry heard Draco say from a few spots along the bench. "God, there's no end to them."

While Harry didn't quite share the sentiment he could understand where it had come from. It seemed almost like there were Weasleys around every corner, and when one left, another was waiting to start school. They'd just got rid of Head Boy Weasley, only for him to be replaced with a newer, younger model.

Ginevra Weasley's Sorting went on longer than Harry had expected. She seemed to be discussing something with the Hat, which wasn't odd in and of itself. Harry had spent a fair time chatting with the Hat himself, although given her family, Harry had assumed the Weasley girl would have been sent right to Gryffindor.

"Slytherin!" shouted the Hat eventually.

The students in the Hall responded sluggishly to the announcement, seemingly surprised at the Hat's decision. After a few moments of awkward silence during which Ginevra Weasley walked towards the Slytherin table, people started to clap and cheer just as they had for everyone else. As if to make up for their surprise, Ginevra's elder twin brothers stood up at the Gryffindor table to shout and cheer.

"Go Ginny!" shouted one.

"That's our sister!" shouted the other.

"Must be nearly a hundred years since a Weasley came to Slytherin," said Theodore as the noise died down. Harry wasn't quite sure how to respond. His schoolmates' knowledge of seemingly random people and their families still felt strange to him, but then he supposed the wizarding world was more like a small town than a proper country by muggle standards, so perhaps that explained it.

And the purebloods did keep marrying each other, so he supposed that would help.

"I suppose it had to happen sooner or later," Harry could just about hear Blaise say. "And it's not like there's no precedent."

All around the Slytherin table Harry could hear people expressing much the same sentiment. 'Sacred Twenty-eight' was a term thrown about more than once, and that was just along Harry's section of the table. He'd heard of it before, and it was some sort of list of the families with the purest of pure blood.

A bit of a weird thing to have, but then wizards were like that.

"What they say and what they do are quite different," Harry heard one of the upper year prefects say in relation to Ginevra Weasley. "Still on the Sacred Twenty-eight, after all."

Next to Harry, Tracey groaned.

"Ugh," she muttered. "'Good breeding' this, 'excellent pedigree' that. We're not bloody dogs!" she said to Harry, just quietly enough that it was lost to everyone else in the post-Sorting din.

Harry agreed with her. Some of their Housemates' obsessions with blood and lineage went a bit too far. It was all well and good to be proud of one's family, but some people thought far too rigidly in terms of blood status and breeding, and it made Harry feel uncomfortable. Not that it was even limited to Slytherin, since Harry had heard the same sentiments from students in other Houses, too, and from wizards out in the world.

Although it was also a sentiment shared by Dudley's Aunt Marge.

Dumbledore stood and gestured for the students to quieten down.

"I shan't take long. All I shall say now, after the Sorting, is that dinner is served."

He sat down and immediately the full array of dishes appeared on the tables of the Great Hall. Harry helped himself to food, although since he wasn't sat near Vince or Greg, felt safe enough to count on there still being food available for seconds and even thirds if he wanted.

"Pass the mashed potatoes, Harry," asked Tracey. "Thanks!"

Harry grabbed the tray with the mashed potatoes and moved it closer to Tracey.

"It's nice to be back at the castle," said Tracey once she'd passed the potatoes back down the table. "I love being home, and it's always nice to have a break isn't it, but there's just something about the castle that feels comfy!"

"It is nice," agreed Harry. He'd grown up on Privet Drive, an aggressively muggle and wholly boring bit of Surrey where everything and everyone looked and behaved the same, more or less. Hogwarts, with its secret passageways, dancing staircases, and rooms that moved around when you weren't looking, felt like home in a way nowhere else ever had. It was no slight on his aunt or uncle – they'd tried and succeeded in creating a good home environment – but he felt as if they were just inherently too different from each other for it to ever be a truly comfortable fit.

"Who do you think we'll have for classes this year?" asked Theodore. "I hope we've swapped out McGonagall; she's a nightmare…"

"If we do, we'll stop having Miss Gamp, though," said Harry. "I thought you liked her."

Theodore went red around the ears.

"Well, I do, but…"

"I hope we keep Flitwick for Charms," Harry continued. "He knows what's he's talking about but he's not too strict. I've heard Mr Dovey is worse than McGonagall. And Miss Evergloam is good at explaining stuff—Dovey doesn't even have an apprentice, so you're just stuck with him."

"Better the Devil you know sometimes, I suppose," said Theodore.

They carried on chatting and eating until the end of the Feast, when Dumbledore stood up once more to make an announcement, which Harry assumed would be about the Triwizard Tournament.

"Ah, here we are, once again with bellies full and heads empty after a long summer," said Dumbledore. "I have several things to discuss with you all tonight before you can rest your weary heads, although I shan't take too much of your time tonight. First, I should like to welcome two new Professors this year." He gestured to the two new faces sat at the table. "Professor Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank will be taking over Magizoology classes from Professor Kettleburn this year, who has retired in order to spend time with his remaining limbs. I wish for you all to give her the warmest of welcomes! Indeed, some of you may know her already from her work as a supply teacher in that very subject! She shall be assisted by Rubeus Hagrid, whom most of you will already know."

Dumbledore started to clap for the new professor, but moved swiftly on once the Hall followed him, although most of the students in the Hall seemed unenthusiastic.

"Our second new addition to the teaching staff is Professor Alastor Moody, a former Auror who has graciously agreed to come and serve as our Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor for this year, due to the unfortunate events which deprived us of our previous Professor. He will be assisted by Nymphadora Tonks, a recently qualified Auror who is very generously on secondment with us for this year."

A ripple of noise went out through the Hall at this most recent announcement, with the Slytherin table no exception. Up and down its length Harry could hear people comment on the battle-scarred former Auror, with an uncomfortable mixture of positive and negative sentiments.

"Ah, I see his reputation precedes him," noted Dumbledore. "Well, that is as good a welcome as any, I should think. To finish up with staffing announcements—I know it must be very tedious for all of you to sit and listen to such minutiae—it is with considerable and sincere joy in my heart that I can announce the return of Professor Trelawney after her accident last year. Alas she cannot be here tonight, but rest assured she shall be here tomorrow for the advent of lessons!"

"God, he's really dragging it out, isn't he?" Harry heard Blaise mutter to Theodore. "Just announce the bloody Tournament and let us go to bed!"

Dumbledore went through the standard start-of-year announcements then, before finally he mentioned the upcoming Triwizard Tournament.

"Now, finally—yes, indeed, I am nearly done speaking, Mr and Mr Weasley so do continue to listen as this last announcement is, I expect, the only thing most of you shall remember tomorrow morning—I have but one last thing to announce. This year we at Hogwarts have been given the distinct honour and privilege of hosting the Triwizard Tournament. We are to receive two cohorts of students from our sister schools on the Continent, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, and Hogwarts shall be the site of the Tournament and its many events. For those of you who do not know, or have forgotten, the Triwizard Tournament is an ancient competition between Europe's three premier magical schools. There is the Gauntlet, in which three Champions are run through a gruelling test of their magical prowess, their wits, and indeed, their luck." Dumbledore paused briefly to let his announcement sink in, then continued. "Alas, this part of the Tournament is open for entry only to those students who will be seventeen before October the thirty-first of this year. Those of you who are younger—do not fret. The Aerobaticum may well be just what you need! I shall direct any student in second year and above who wishes to take part in the flying competitions to see Madam Hooch by the end of the second week of term. And of course, the third of our event categories, the Pariturium, shall be open to anyone above second year as well. Anyone wishing to participate in the duelling contests should see Professor Flitwick, or his apprentice, Miss Evergloam, by the end of the same week. Now, I wish you all goodnight, and sweet dreams. Prefects, see your students to their dormitories, please!"

Dumbledore walked away from the head table in a swirl of sparkly purple robes, and the Great Hall erupted into chaos. Although news of the Tournament had been passed around between some of the students before Dumbledore's announcement, it was clear to Harry that most of his peers had had no idea there was anything happening that year. The bravest—and most ambitious—of the fourth and fifth years who would be old enough to participate in the Tournament proper had already declared their intentions to compete for Champion.

"I don't know if there's even any point trying for the flying competition with you and that bloody Firebolt," said Blaise as Harry and his friends followed the mass of Slytherins out of the Hall and towards the dungeons, "but I reckon I'll have a good shot in the duelling."

"I didn't think you liked broom sport very much," said Harry.

"Well, I don't," muttered Blaise, "but something as big as this, you've got to have a go, don't you? At least there's the duelling."

The tall boy's sentiment was apparently shared with a lot of others in the House, since Harry could hear students he'd never seen hold a broom talk about their chances in the flying competition. He even overheard Pansy talking about the duelling.

"I think I'll try out the duelling contest," Harry heard Pansy say. "Did you know, my great-grandmother—on the Rosier side—was one of the first witches to win a pan-European championship? And of course, I won't have a chance at the flying with you in it, Draco, so…"

"It's a shame there's no Quidditch this year," said Draco, "but at least I'll have an opportunity to really show off my skills in an international context. I think I'll give the duelling a try, too."

"I was going to do the flying, definitely," said Harry. "But I didn't know about the duelling, and that sounds really good, too…" And at the back of his mind, Harry couldn't help but think that Voldemort must be a very good dueller to have lasted so long fighting against Aurors and whoever else fancied a chance. A bit of structured duelling practice might be just the thing Harry needed to get himself started. The flying he would do for the love of it, but the duelling – well, maybe that was a bit more existential.

"I thought so," said Blaise. "You'd trounce me in the flying—all of us, probably," he said with a little look at Draco, "but we'll have to see about the duelling. Consider yourself warned, Potter," Blaise said with a toothy grin.

"I'll be watching for you then, Zabini," said Harry.

Harry thought the flying and duelling competitions sounded like a good bit of fun. True, he didn't know exactly how they would be structured or what would be involved, but as soon as he got the opportunity to see Hooch or Flitwick, he would presumably be given all the relevant information.

All anyone in Slytherin and possibly the entire school, although Harry couldn't say, spoke about on the way back to their dormitories was the Triwizard Tournament, even the new first years who wouldn't be able to compete.

Once they reached the Common Room, many of the second year Slytherins stayed up just a little while longer to talk – mostly about the Tournament and its events – and spend a little time with one another, Harry included. He made his way to bed not too long after getting to the Common Room, since he didn't want to be tired for the next morning, returning to the dormitory with Theodore and Blaise. The three boys stayed up for a little while but fell asleep while Draco and Vince were still in the Common Room.