The Great Hall was as loud as ever, perhaps more so than usual, as the Sorting Ceremony wrapped up. Dean, Sam, Crowley, and a newly returned Castiel sat side by side at the head table alongside the other professors. Dumbledore was speaking to the students in his opening remarks, congratulating them on being sorted into their respective Houses for the First-Years and so on.

Paying almost no attention to the speech, Dean was leaning close with Castiel as they discussed his summer. "Why are you getting back so late anyways, Cas?"

"It was not my intention to be gone for so long, I assure you." The Muggle Studies professor muttered. "But I believe my activities this summer would be better discussed somewhere more private."

"He's right Dean," Sam muttered. "We can compare notes after the feast tonight."

"I can't," the elder Winchester shook his head once. "I have a lot of things I need to do for the Triwizard Tournament, and I want to go check on Star, Dak, and Morgan."

"Can't it wait?" Sam asked, annoyed. "This is important."

"So is the stuff I have to do," Dean said, frowning at his brother. "It will only take a couple hours; we can meet in your room at midnight."

"Fine." Sam snapped, "Just don't be late and keep your wand within reach at all times."

"My, my, my Samantha, did someone put a toad in your firewhiskey?" Crowley asked airily. "Quite the foul mood you are in just because you didn't get your way. I expect that from Dean, not from you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked.

"Well if I am being honest you do tend to throw a tantrum if things don't go your way." Crowley said, smiling as he took a drink from his flask.

"Things never go my way."

"Hence why I expect from you."

"- and Mr. Filch informs me that Invisible Boomerangs, Endlessly Playing Lutes, and three hundred and forty-seven other items have been added to the list of items that have been banned from school premises." Dumbledore was saying. He paused, letting his smile fade away and then took on a far more serious air. "I am sure that many of you, if not all, have heard about the events that transpired at the Quidditch World Cup this past summer."

Dumbledore clapped his hands together and the banners that lined the Great Hall turned dark blue with a black raven in their center. The Hall went quiet, many of the students looking around in surprise. The only table that seemed entirely unsurprised by this was the Ravenclaws'. They exchanged looks at one another, their faces drawn and somber.

"Many of you do not know this, and I am sorry to have to start the term off with this news, but one of our own was killed at the World Cup." Dumbledore said sadly. He adjusted his half-moon spectacles, cleared his throat, and then continued on. "Genevieve Fox embodied what it was to be a Ravenclaw to her very core. Her creativity was second to none, and her cleverness matched that. There was scarcely a problem that she could not solve when she truly put her mind to the task. Her pursuit of knowledge beyond even that of the classroom truly set her apart."

The Hall was silent as many of the students processed this. Sam looked over to the Ravenclaw table and saw that many of them had tears streaming down their faces as they remembered their friend. The other Houses appeared to be stunned at this information, Genevieve's death having been kept from the Prophet's pages, and they looked to one another for an answer that no one seemed to have.

Sam glanced to the side and gooseflesh ran down his arms when he spied Crowley's face. His flask was out before him, almost as though he was going to take another drink, but his expression was what drew Sam's attention. It was not one of anger, nor sadness, rather it was of simple determination. A manic determination that was hidden behind a very thin mask of calm. Having spent his summer hunting Dark Wizards Sam's instincts were incredibly sharp and they were screaming a warning at him now. Dean, apparently having sensed the same thing, shot Sam a sideways glance and shook his head very slightly. Not here. He seemed to be saying.

Dumbledore allowed the silence to stretch for several moments as the students processed this new information. He reached for his goblet and raised it before him. "To Genevieve Fox."

There was a large clattering as the students and faculty reached for their goblets and echoed the toast. "To Genevieve Fox."

Once the toast had finished, Dumbledore set his goblet down and cleared his throat once more. "What happened at the World Cup demonstrates that we must always be prepared, no matter what. With that in mind several of the faculty and I have determined that a much more proactive step should be taken. So, I am pleased to inform you that, beginning next Monday, a dueling club will be reinstated at Hogwarts. This club, overseen by a different professor every week, will meet on the first Monday of each month. Students who wish to learn defensive magic, beyond Defense Against the Dark Arts, are welcome to attend."

"Did you know about this?" Dean muttered to Cas.

"No, but it seems a wise choice." Cas said gravely.

"Can't argue that."

Dumbledore began to talk again, this time about the Triwizard Tournament, but Dean had already excused himself. Sam watched his brother go but said nothing. Chances were good that Dean wouldn't listen to him regardless. The Headmaster explained the history of the Tournament and the implications for the upcoming year. When he told them that Quidditch was postponed for the year there were far fewer objections than Sam would have expected. He supposed that the World Cup had something to do with that.

"I believe that I will take my leave as well, Squirrel," Crowley said, rising from his seat and slipping away without another word.

Castiel departed soon after without a word of goodbye, opting to simply leave the table when Sam had turned his head away. When the Feast ended, and the students began to head off to their dormitories Sam decided that it was best for him to get some rest. The first day of classes was tomorrow and he had barely come up with a lesson plan.

He didn't get too many steps past his seat before he felt a hand on his shoulder. Severus's scowling face greeted him, and the Potions master grabbed him firmly by the arm. "A word, if you please, Samuel."

Not really given any choice, and very curious at this intensity, Sam allowed Severus to pull him into an empty classroom. Once the door was firmly shut behind them Snape pulled his wand free and pointed it at the door. The door glowed a faint blue and only then did Severus allow himself to relax slightly. "There are several things that the Headmaster has deemed it prudent for me to inform you of," Snape said, pointing his wand at each wall in turn and then the ceiling and floor. "Things that cannot leave this room."

"What does the Headmaster have on his mind?" Sam wondered, crossing his arms. If it was this important that Snape was sealing off the room before speaking, he truly hoped that he was using magic that Moody's eye was not able to peer through. If Moody was the impostor at all. If there even wasan impostor.

"Before I speak of it, give me your hand." Severus said. He didn't wait for Sam, grabbing the Winchester's arm and pressing his wand to the bare flesh of his wrist. "Samuel Winchester, do you swear to bear the Secrets learned in this room and to tell no one save for whom I or Albus Dumbledore give you permission to speak to?"

"I swear." Sam, who had extensively researched Secret-Keepers over the summer, said firmly.

Snape relaxed even further and stowed his wand into his robes. "There are several things you must be aware of. The first is that the Headmaster believes that the World Cup is only the start of things to come." Snape began to pace the room. "The second is that the Triwizard Tournament will undoubtedly be a target for those who were responsible for those events. We must be prepared for everything and anything. The Headmasters from the other two schools are aware of the unrest that is now going on and are bringing their own protection forces so to speak."

"Protection forces?" Sam asked, frowning at this new information. "They're bringing security?"

"Is that not what I just said?" Snape asked irritably, still pacing the room. "In addition, Dumbledore wished for me to show you this."

He stopped his pacing and pulled back the sleeve of his cloak, revealing the Dark Mark on his arm. "Since the events at the World Cup it has been growing deeper in color by the day. Do you understand the significance of that?"

"Voldemort is growing stronger." Sam nodded. He recalled Karkaroff saying something like that in the book. "I didn't think he was actually dead."

"Excellent, that saves us from a very tedious explanation." Snape lowered the sleeve on his cloak and folded his arms. "The Headmaster has begun to send out for those he can trust as well. Have you heard of the Order of the Phoenix?"

"Of course," Sam nodded. "They were the resistance on this side of the pond during Voldemort's rise to power."

"Precisely. Many of our members were killed, but those that are able and remain will undoubtedly join us once more. But we need more. Do you know of anyone trustworthy you could ask to join us?" Snape asked.

Several names jumped to Sam's mind, but only one of them was actually possible. "Do you remember Bobby, the old man that visited us for Christmas?"

"Unfortunately." Snape's lip curled. There was very little love lost between those two. "But if you insist on his trustworthiness. Do you think he would be able to join us when the Tournament begins?"

Sam nodded. "I think he will."

"Then by all means. Do not be mistaken here, Mr. Winchester, this is not simply a precaution taken by an old man. If the events of the World Cup are anything to judge by our enemies are far stronger than we had initially thought."