Author's Note: So sorry for the delay, I have actually finished writing up until the 5th book which I am very excited to begin. However, please enjoy this slightly longer chapter that may or may not end on a cliffhanger.
I also want to mention because of current events with the Author of Harry Potter, and the protests, that this story, as well as myself, are BLM and Trans friendly. I only mention this because I, like many others, view Hermione as black (and as such I will not accept any comments or racism that degrade her for being so) as well as the fact that I view trans women as women. (I am also trans myself)
If anyone needs someone to talk to during this time, I am here for you. You matter, your lives matter, and I hope I can write a Harry Potter story where you all can feel safe and included.
P.S I do not have time to answer reviews right now, I'll get to them next chapter.
~Chapter 8 Start~
The day went by rather quickly, even Severus was lax on them in class today. Max wondered briefly if it was the incoming worry of the tournament that was keeping Severus so preoccupied, but she had nary a chance to ask. They quickly dropped their bags and books off in their dorms, before heading back downstairs to the entrance hall where the Heads of Houses were ordering their students into lines.
"Weasley straighten your hat," Professor McGonagall primed. "Miss Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair." to which Parvati scowled and removed the large ornamental butterfly holding her hair out of her face with a scowl.
"Yowch, ok I'm starting to see the pain now..." Max giggled to herself as she caught Severus gaze momentarily.
"Follow me, please," Professor McGonagall instructed, "First years in front...no pushing..."
They filed down the steps and lined up in front of the castle in the chilled night air. Max pulled her cloak tighter around herself as she cast a warming spell to stay comfortable. Dusk was beginning to fall as she noted the disappearing reds and oranges of a sunset. The pale moon was nearing visible.
"Nearly six," Ron advised as he checked his watch, "How d'you reckon they're coming? The train?"
"I doubt it." Hermione responded as they stared down the drive that led to the front gates.
"How, then? Broomsticks?" Harry suggested as he tilted his head to look at the minimal stars in the night sky that were already starting to appear.
"I don't think so...not from that far away..." Hermione thoughtfully corrected.
"A Portkey?" Ron suggested, "Or they could Apparate - maybe you're allowed to do it under seventeen wherever they are from?"
"You can't Apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds." Both Max and Hermione corrected.
"How many times do I have to tell you?" Hermione added at the end of hers irritatedly. Probably every damn year to be honest, Max thought to herself.
They all scanned the darkening grounds fervently, but nothing was moving. The only sounds were from the shuffle feet and hushed whispers from the excited students around them.
And then Dumbledore called out from the rear where he stood with the other teachers and spoke.
"Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"
"Where?" was the excited response from the students as everyone hurriedly looked around.
"There!" An older girl spoke, pointing over the forest.
A large object was flying towards them, hurtling at such speed towards the castle growing with every nearing foot.
"It's a dragon!" Someone shouted.
"Don't be daft! It's a flying house!" Dennis Creevey corrected. While his guess was closer, it was still not an apt description of what was hurtling towards them at mach speed.
What it actually was was a gigantic powder blue horse drawn carriage that happened to also be the size of a house. It was being pulled by a dozen winged horses all the size of elephants.
The front row of students inched backwards as the carriage started to descend lower landing with a tremendous crash. The crash caused Neville to jump backwards onto a Slytherin student's foot who yelped in anger. The horses' hooves thundered against the ground shaking it as they landed.
A boy with pale blue robes hopped out and bent forward, fumbling for a moment with something on the carriage. Eventually a set of golden steps unfolded from the side and he sprang back respectfully.
The largest woman they had ever seen descended from the carriage first, causing a few people to gasp. She reminded Max for a moment of Hagrid, and she realized she was most likely part giant as well. Something that may not be so obvious to her younger peers. She had a handsome face, olive skin, and large black eyes that seemed to shine as if they were liquid. She had a rather beaky nose and her hair was drawn tightly into a knob at the base of her neck. She adorned herself with cascades of black satin, and necklaces of opals gleaming at her throat. Her fingers adorned the same opals, softening her larger hands.
Dumbledore began to clap; students, following his lead, joined in. Soon everyone was clapping while many attempted to stand on their tiptoes to see the woman better. She strode with a long gait towards Dumbledore, who greeted her with a kiss to the back of her hand.
"My dear Madame Maxime," he spoke, "Welcome to Hogwarts."
"Dumbly-dorr," Madame Maxine spoke, her words thick with an accent, "I 'ope I find you well?"
"In excellent form, I thank you." He smiled, eyes twinkling from beneath his half moon glasses.
"My pupils," The deep voice of Madame Maxime spoke as she flourished a large hand towards the carriage behind them. Roughly a dozen boys and girls, all to be in their late teens, had emerged from the carriage and had congregated behind Madame Maxime. They were all shivering, which was hardly surprising given their robes seemed to be made of fine silk, while none of them wore a cloak. A few had shawls or scarves wrapped around their heads, but that was it.
"'As Karkaroff arrived yet?" Madame Maxime asked.
"He should be here any moment." Dumbledore advised, "Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"
"Warm up, I think," Madame Maxime began, "but ze 'orses -"
"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them." Dumbledore delightfully offered, "the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation has arisen with some of his other - er -charges."
"Skrewts." Ron muttered to Harry with a grin.
"My steed require - er - forceful 'andling." Madame Maxime carefully picked her words as she attempted to convey her worry. "Zey are very strong..."
"I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job." Dumbledore explained as he eased her fears.
"Very well," Madame Maxime bowed slightly as she agreed. "Will you please inform zis 'Agrid zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whiskey?"
"It will be attended to." Dumbledore nodded as he returned her bow.
"Come." She spoke shortly to her students as they disappeared through the entrance hall doors.
"How big d'you reckon Durmstrang's horses are going to be?" Seamus Finnigan wondered, leaning around Lavender and Parvati to address Harry and Ron.
"Well, if they're any bigger than this lot, even Hagrid won't be able to handle them." Harry responded as Max nodded her assent. "That's if he hasn't been attacked by his skrewts. Wonder what's up with them?"
"Fucking skrewts." Max bitterly muttered.
"Maybe they've escaped?" Ron wondered hopefully. He was grinning at the thought, almost as if he were hopeful.
"I doubt that's it. If it was, I am sure Dumbledore wouldn't have us greeting our guests on the front lawn where those little buggers could easily reach us." She disagreed, placing a thoughtful finger on her chin.
"Don't tempt fate Ronald," Hermione added, "imagine that lot loose on the grounds..."
They continued to stand there shivering in the cool night air for a few more minutes before a muffled rumbling started to be heard coming from the lake.
"The lake!" Lee Jordan yelled, pointing towards it. "Look at the lake!"
The lake was still and black, but was slowly bubbling the surface disturbing it. The sound was louder now, reminding her of a vacuum cleaner on high. Waves were now washing onto the shore as the noise grew to its precipice. Then, out in the middle of the lake, a whirlpool broke the surface spiraling down like a giant plug had been pulled. From the center a large black pole ascended, before taking the shape of a mast.
"It's a mast!" Harry gasped as Max spluttered out an 'Is that a fucking boat?' at the same time.
Slowly the ship rose from the water looking skeletal and eerie sitting atop the black lake at night. Through the mist the lights glowing from it reminded her of a haunted house as they shone like ghostly eyes. A few moments later the boat began to glide towards the bank, the splash of an anchor heard soon after.
People immediately began disembarking off the plank that had also been lowered with the anchor. Every single form was big and burly, causing worry to grip Max's throat. Dear god they were built for challenges like these.
Her breath soon let out as she realized they were swathed in large furry cloaks. However, the man leading them still stood tall and large, his short silver hair sleek on his head.
"Dumbledore!" He called out heartily as he walked up the slope, "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"
"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff." Dumbledore replied. He was a thinner fellow, reminding her of Dumbledore in a way, but still towering tall. He had a silver goatee that curled on his chin adding a flair to his look.
"Dear old Hogwarts," Karkaroff began thoughtfully, although his eyes remained cold and shrewd. "How good it is to be here, how good...Viktor, come along, into the warmth...you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold..."
Karkaroff beckoned forward and the large form of Viktor stepped into view as Ron held in a squeal and punched Harry's shoulder. Max was fairly confused wondering who the boy was to have Ron in a tizzy.
"Harry - It's Krum!"
~Break~
"I don't believe it!" Ron said, voice stunned and high pitch. "Krum, Harry! Viktor Krum!" Max almost wanted to ask who he was, but Hermione quickly answered her unasked question.
"For heaven's sake, Ron, he's only a Quidditch player."
"Only a Quidditch player?" Ron looked positively offended at the prospect. "Hermione - he's one of the best Seekers in the world! I had no idea he was still at school!"
Ron continued to regale them with Quidditch stats as they headed towards the Great Hall. Lee Jordan was jumping on the balls of his feet to see the back of Krum's head, while several sixth year girls were digging around in their pockets hurriedly for something as they walked past.
"Oh I don't believe it, I haven't got a single quill on me -"
"Do you think he'd sign my hat in lipstick?"
"Really?" Hermione scoffed as they passed the now squabbling girls as they argued over lipstick.
"Everyone has an idol Hermione." Max shrugged.
"I'm getting his autograph if I can," Ron declared, "You haven't got a quill, have you Harry?"
"Nope, they're upstairs in my bag."
"I have a ballpoint pen!" Max offered as she held up the pen she had nicked from Hermione at breakfast.
"I can't ask him with that! He might laugh, I'll have to ask later..." Ron groaned as they entered the Great Hall.
"Who knew the ballpoint pen would still be ahead of its time in the 90's?" Max sighed as she looked at the blue ballpoint pen dejectedly.
"It's ok, they'll come around I'm sure." Harry spoke as Hermione took her pen back with a small frown.
"Wizards are so stubborn..." Hermione muttered to herself causing Max to laugh.
When they had seated at their table, Max noted that the Beauxbaton students were seated glumly at the Ravenclaw table, while the Durmstrang students hung around the doorway where Krum was.
"It's not that cold," Hermione scoffed, noting that the Beauxbaton students were still curled tightly in their shawls and scarves. "Why didn't they just bring cloaks?"
"Over here! Come and sit over here!" Ron hissed, "Over here! Hermione, budge up, make a space -"
"What?"
"Too late." Said Ron bitterly. Max turned and saw that the Durmstrang students had seated themselves with the Slytherins. She turned as she saw Malfoy lean forward to say something to Krum, before she turned back around finding nothing of interest.
"Yeah, that's right, smarm up to him Malfoy." Ron spat. "I bet Krum can see right through him, though...bet he gets people fawning over him all the time...where d'you reckon they're going to sleep? We could offer him a space in our dormitory, Harry...I wouldn't mind giving him my bed, I could kip on a camp bed."
Hermione snorted, Max sighed.
"They look a lot happier than the Beauxbatons lot." Harry noted.
The Durmstrang students were pulling off their heavy furs while looking up at the ceiling with expressions of mirth and interest. Some were even inspecting the plates and goblets with deep fascination.
Up at the teacher's table a dressed up Filch, if you could call his moldy tailcoat dressed up, was setting up four extra chairs. Two on either side of Dumbledore.
"Hey, if there are only two extra people, why is Filch putting out four chairs? Who else is coming?" Harry inquired, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"Eh?" Ron uttered vaguely, still staring at Krum intensely.
"I don't know...maybe they brought another teacher to help corral all the students?" Max guessed, wondering just as much as Harry.
Soon enough everyone had filed in for dinner. Dumbledore stood to address everyone as Madame Maxime sat down on one side, Karkaroff on the other. When Madame Maxime stood to take her seat her students all stood up unembarrassed as chortles of laughter followed them. They didn't seem phased and did not sit until Madame Maxime had. It was a bizarre interaction, but she assumed it was one of respect they had at their school.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and - most particularly - guests." Dumbledore greeted, beaming at all the students. "I have the great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts.I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."
At this a girl from Beauxbatons gripped her muffler tightly against her face and let out a derisive laugh.
"No one is making you stay!" Hermione hissed, bristling at the girl's rude response.
"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," spoke Dumbledore. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!" He sat back down and Karkaroff leaned forward instantly to capture him in conversation.
The plates in front of them were filled with various foods, as usual. It seemed this time, however, the house-elves had pulled out all the stops, offering a greater variety of cuisine. Several most definitely foreign.
"What's that?" Ron asked, pointing towards a large dish of shellfish stew.
"Bouillabaisse," Hermione answered.
"Bless you." Ron cheekily replied.
"It's French," Hermione bristled as she shook her head in irritation. "I had it on holiday, summer before last. It's very nice."
"I'll take your word for it." Ron muttered, helping himself to a large serving of black pudding instead.
"I'm having some. We have all kinds of food where I lived, this is nothing." Max shrugged as she grabbed herself a small bowl.
Hagrid soon sidled into the Great Hall through a door behind the staff table about twenty minutes after the feast. He had a heavily bandaged hand that caught their interest almost immediately.
"Skrewts doing all right Hagrid?" Harry called taking note of his injury.
"Thrivin'." Hagrid called back happily.
"Yeah, I'll just bet they are," Ron muttered quietly. "Looks like they've finally found a food they like, doesn't it? Hagrid's fingers." Just as Max was about to chastise Ron for his rude comments, a voice cut in.
"Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?" A girl from Beauxbatons inquired politely. She seemed to be the same girl who had interrupted Dumbledore's speech with her laugh. She had finally removed her muffler, showing her long silvery-blond hair that fell almost to her waist. Her eyes were large and blue, her teeth impossibly white and straight. She seemed to have an air about her and almost glowed.
Ron went purple and seemed to be unable to splutter out a response, unless you counted the gargling attempt he had to be a response.
Harry quickly cut it, picking the bowl up and pushed it towards the girl.
"Yeah, have it." He offered as Max nodded she had no intention of having more than a bowl.
"You 'ave finished wiz it?"
"Yeah," Ron said breathlessly, "Yeah it was excellent." this caused Max to snort in derision herself, as she finished her own bowl, shoulders shaking with laughter.
The girl picked up the dish and excused herself back to her schoolmates, taking care to not spill it.
"She's a veela!" Ron hissed hoarsely.
"Of course she isn't!" Said Hermione rather tartly, "I don't see anyone else gaping at her like an idiot!" But Hermione wasn't entirely correct. As the girl crossed the hall, many of the boys, and some girls, had turned to watch her, some even becoming as tongue-tied as Ron had.
"I'm telling you, that's not a normal girl!" Ron spoke, leaning sideways so he could keep a clear view of her. "They don't make them like that at Hogwarts!"
"They make them okay at Hogwarts." Harry added without thinking.
"Ok, I am officially offended." Max scoffed as Hermione's face turned an angry shade of red.
"Agreed. When you've both put your eyes back in," Hermione spoke briskly, "you'll be able to see who's just arrived." Sure enough Harry snapped his eyes from the girl to see what Hermione meant. Sure enough at the staff table was a man she did not recognize seated beside Karkaroff, and Barty Crouch, Barty Crouch Jr.'s father. Max felt panic tighten her throat and her eyes jumped to Severus'. She locked eyes with him for a mere moment and realized he had been checking up on her. Quickly she averted her gaze back to Hermione.
"What are they doing here?" Harry spat in surprise.
"They organized the Triwizard Tournament didn't they?" Hermione clarified, "I suppose they wanted to be here to see it start."
When the second course arrived it was also full of unfamiliar desserts. Max enjoyed trying everything she could get her hands on, while Ron seemed to examine everything closely with apprehension. He moved one of the desserts out in the way of the blond girl from before, almost as if he were trying to summon her. It ended up being a futile attempt as she never spared him a second glance.
Finally, dinner had finished. Everyone seemed positively giddy at their tables, and Dumbledore stood to address them once more. Half of the Gryffindor table was sitting on the edge of their seats, leaning in to hear what he had to say for what seemed the first time in forever. The Triwizard Tournament truly was a big deal.
"The moment has come," Dumbledore said smiling around at the sea of people. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket-"
"The what?" Harry questioned. Ron merely shrugged as Max shh'd them both.
"- just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation" - he paused for a small polite applause before continuing - "and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."
There was a much larger applause for him.
"Mr. Bagman and Mr. crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts."
Everyone seemed to lean in and listen even more intently at the mention of champions.
"The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch." Dumbledore spoke, seemingly zeroing in on what had everyone so restless.
Filch, who had been lurking around prior to this, approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked incredibly old and everyone started murmuring once they saw it. Dennis Creevey actually stood on his chair to peer at the chest easier.
"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," Dumbledore began explaining again as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways...their magical prowess - their daring - their powers of deduction - and of course, their ability to cope with danger."
The hall fell into silence, you could hear a pin drop. It felt as if everyone had ceased breathing all together.
"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," he continued calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."
He took out his wand and tapped his wand three times on the top of the chest. The lid slowly creaked open. Dumbledore reached inside and pulled out a large, rough hewn wooden cup. The cup itself wasn't anything to write home about. What was so awe inspiring about it was the blue flames burning from within the cup. Slowly he closed the chest again and placed the goblet atop it.
"Anyone wishing to submit themselves as a champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," Dumbledore explained further. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.
"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," Dumbledore took a moment to peer around the room, his eyes stopping momentarily on the Weasley twins. "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.
"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete, that this tournament is not to be entered lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."
~Break~
"An age line!" Fred muttered, eyes glinting as he wracked his mind for solutions. They were all making their way back to the Gryffindor tower together, all the while Fred was clearly not pleased.
"Well, that should be fooled by an Aging Potion, shouldn't it? And once your name's in the goblet, you're laughing - it can't tell whether you're seventeen or not!"
"Fred I don't think it's that simple. Plenty of students here have the ability to make aging potions, we even have the ingredients for such potions. I doubt an age line is that easily fooled..." Max attempted to calm Fred. For a moment she was reminded that she was well over seventeen, but she couldn't bring herself to enter anyone into a tournament where she knew someone was going to die.
"I also doubt anyone under seventeen is equipped for this kind of tournament, we just haven't learned enough -" Hermione began to add.
"Speak for yourself," George interrupted shortly. "You'll try and get in, won't you Harry?"
"Where is he?" Ron said, clearly not listening. "Dumbledore didn't say where the Durmstrang people are sleeping, did he?"
However it seemed fate was destined to answer this question as Karkaroff showed up ushering his students back to their boat.
"Back to the ship then. Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?" Krum merely shook his head at the offer.
"Professor, I vood like some vine." One of the other Durmstrang boys asked, trying to seize the offer.
"I wasn't offering it to you, Poliakoff," Snapped Karkaroff waspishly. "I noticed you have dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting boy -" they never heard the rest as Karkaroff froze and turned to look at Harry, eyes fixated on his scar.
"Yeah, that's Harry Potter." A voice growled from behind them. Everyone turned to see Moody had sidled up to them, leaning heavily on his staff. The colour drained from Karkaroff's face as he realized who had interrupted them.
"You!"
"Me," Moody replied grimly. "And unless you've got anything to say to Potter, Karkaroff, you might want to move. You're blocking the doorway."
He wasn't wrong. Half the students in the hall were now lined up behind them waiting. Without another word Karkaroff swept his students away and disappeared into the entrance hall. Moody watched him go, his mad-eye fixated upon his form as he scowled.
~Break~
Max awoke early that Saturday morning, deciding to grab an early breakfast and avoid the mobs of people sure to be hanging around the goblet for the next twenty-four hours. She headed into the Great Hall quickly, dressing herself a piece of toast and heading back out to take a look at the goblet.
It seemed like she wasn't the only one with that idea as she ran into Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the entrance hall, already looking at said goblet.
The goblet was located in the middle of the room atop the stool that usually bore the Sorting Hat. It had a thin golden line forming a ten foot circle around it, which was more than likely the age line Dumbledore had set up.
Max made so to stay away from said line, not wanting to accidentally fall over it and stir up questions. She took a spot beside Hermione with a smile, and munching her toast.
"Anyone put their name in yet?" Ron asked a third year girl gingerly.
"All the Durmstrang lot," She replied, "But I haven't seen anyone from Hogwarts yet."
"Bet some of them put their names in last night, after we'd all gone to bed." said Harry. "I would've if it had been me...wouldn't have wanted everyone watching. What if the goblet just gobbed you right back out again?"
A laugh startled them and they turned to find Fred, George, and Lee Jordan hurrying down the staircase, all three of them looking extremely excited.
"Done it," Friend proclaimed triumphantly. "Just taken it."
"What?" Ron asked, his mouth full of food.
"The Aging Potion you donut!" "The Aging Potion, dung brains." Max and Fred spoke at the same time startling each other, before they laughed.
"One drop each," George continued, rubbing his hands together. "We only need to be a few months older."
"We're going to split the thousand Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins." Lee said, grinning broadly.
"I'm not sure this is going to work, you know," Hermione warned. "I'm sure Dumbledore will have thought of this." Sadly, everyone ignored her.
"Ready?" Fred asked as he motioned towards his other two companions. "C'mon, then - I'll go first -"
They watched in fascination as Fred pulled a slip of parchment out of his pocket bearing the words 'Fred Weasley - Hogwarts'. He walked up to the edge of the golden ring and stood there, rocking on the balls of his feet, readying himself for the plunge. Then, when everyone had turned to focus on him. He took a gigantic breath and stepped over the line.
For a split second it seemed like Fred had done it; George even let out a cheer of triumph and followed his twin. But in the next moment there was a loud sizzling noise as the boys were flung a good ten feet away, hitting the ground with a large crack. All of a sudden a popping noise was heard and the boys started sporting long gangly white beards.
The Great Hall erupted in laughter as the twins turned to look at each other's beards thoughtfully.
"I did warn you," a deeply amused voice sang. Everyone turned to see Professor Dumbledore exiting the Great Hall. He took a moment to survey Fred and George, before he shifted his glance to regard Max briefly. Probably to ensure she didn't offer to step over the line for them. "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours."
Off the twins went, quiet for one of the rarer moments. Lee accompanied them, howling in laughter as he did.
~Break~
The Great Hall was lavishly decorated for halloween, with bats flying around the ceiling as it depicted a starry sky, the candles having been traded in for jack o'lanterns. Harry led them over to Seamus, who was discussing students who were over seventeen and might enter.
"There's a rumor going around that Warrington got up early and put his name in," Dean told Harry as he sat down. "That big block from Slytherin who looks like a sloth."
"We can't have a Slytherin champion!"
"And the Hufflepuffs are talking about Diggory," Seamus muttered contemptuously. "But I wouldn't have thought he'd have wanted to risk his good looks."
"Listen!" Hermione gasped, interrupting their guesswork.
People were cheering out in the entrance hall. Everyone turned in their seats and saw Angelina Johnson coming into the Great Hall, grinning modestly. She was a tall muscled girl with dark skin. Her hair was tied back in box braids, looking very fetching on her.
"Well, I've done it! Just put my name in!" She spoke, voice full of glee.
"You're kidding!" Ron said, looking impressed.
"Are you seventeen, then?" Harry wondered. His gaze shifting towards the girl.
"Course she is, can't see a beard, can you?" Ron laughed.
"I had my birthday last week." Angelina expanded upon Ron's statement.
"Well, I'm glad someone from Gryffindor's entering," Hermione complimented, "I really hope you get it, Angelina!"
"Thanks, Hermione." Angelina responded smiling brightly.
"I hope you get in too." Max added, knowing full well she wasn't getting in, but knew it would help if she blended in as if she didn't know.
"Yeah, better you than Pretty-Boy Diggory," Seamus spoke, causing a group of Hufflepuffs who were passing their table to scowl.
~Break~
"What're we going to do today, then?" Ron finally asked as they finished breakfast and were leaving the Great Hall.
"We haven't been down to visit Hagrid yet." Harry suggested, his messy swath of hair shadowing his face.
"Okay," Ron agreed, "just as long as he doesn't ask us to donate a few fingers to the skrewts." A look of excitement suddenly appeared on Hermione's face as she let out a gasp.
"I've just realized - I haven't asked Hagrid to join S.P.E.W yet!" she spoke excitedly. "Wait for me, will you, while I nip upstairs and get the badges?" She didn't even bother waiting before she bounded off towards the marble staircase.
"What is with her?" Ron said exasperated.
"What do you think? It wasn't long ago that her elder family were persecuted against as slaves. She may have lighter skin, but it's clear at least one of her parents is black." Max finally spoke, pointing out the darker skin Hermione had, and her thick curly brown coils.
"I mean I always knew I just never..." Ron spluttered, clearly having never had much thought about muggle happenings.
"Thought about the fact she was a muggle and muggles aren't super kind to black children, even half?" Max sighed as she gave him an irritated look.
"Hey, Ron," Harry interrupted before he could respond. "It's your friend..."
Students from Beauxbatons were walking through the front doors towards them, the veela-girl amongst them. As if she were Moses himself, the gathering around the goblet parted allowing her to walk through towards it. Madame Maxime entered the hall behind her students, and one by one each student stepped over the age line and deposited their paper. As each name was added, the goblet glowed with red flames until the pieces of paper vanished, emitting a few sparks.
"What d'you reckon'll happen to the ones who aren't chosen?" Ron muttered to Harry and Max as the veela-girl dropped her own parchment into the Goblet of Fire. "Reckon they'll go back to school, or hang around to watch the tournament?"
"So full of questions today, you'd think by now you'd bother asking a teacher." Max laughed as Ron gave her a tilted smile.
"With our track record, we've learned they all lie." Ron laughed jovially, not at all bothered at Max's quip.
"No kidding." Max grumbled, remembering just how much Severus had kept from her, and probably still was.
"Dunno," Harry spoke, continuing their conversation. "Hang around, I suppose...Madame Maxime's staying to judge, isn't she?"
Once all the students had submitted their names, Madame Maxime ushered them back out of the hall, and onto the grounds once again.
"They sure spend a lot of time outside for people without proper cloaks." Max realized as their perfectly prim robes rippled in the strong wind.
"Yeah, where exactly are THEY sleeping anyways? It's not like they can stay inside that carriage...right?" Ron added, watching them as he moved towards the front doors as well.
"Oh good, hurry up." Ron greeted Hermione as she finally reappeared with her box of S.P.E.W badges.
They moved out of the hall and down the stone steps, Ron taking two at a time as he watched the veela-girl, who was now halfway across the lawn now.
As they neared Hagrid's cabin Ron's previous question was answered. The giant powder blue carriage they had rode in on, was parked two hundred yards from Hagrid's front door. Students were climbing in and out of it, while the huge flying steeds were now grazing in a makeshift paddock.
"What do you know Ron, you were right!" Max clapped him on the back, her laugh ringing like bells.
Harry went up to the door first, knocking softly on it. Instantly the booming barks of Hagrid's bloodhound greeted them as the half-giant himself pulled open the door.
"Bout time!" Hagrid greeted. "Thought you lot'd forgotten where I live!"
"We've been really busy, Hag-" Hermione began to say, but stopped dead as her mind caught up to her eyes.
Hagrid was standing there wearing his best, and apparently gaudiest, suit. It was brown and hairy, but the checkered orange and yellow tie really completed the look. What really set his outfit off was his attempt at taming his hair, in what appeared to be an awe-inspiring move to use axle grease to 'flatten' it down.
"Erm - where are the skrewts?" Hermione asked, collecting some manner of decorum back from her own gawking.
"Out by the pumpkin patch," Hagrid replied happily, "They're gettin' massive, mus' be nearly three foot long now. On'y trouble is, they've started killin' each other."
"Oh that sounds lovely." Max surmised with a sigh.
"Oh dear..." Hermione added.
"Yeah," Hagrid agreed, "S' okay, though, I've got 'e in separate boxes now. Still got abou' twenty."
"Well that's lucky." Ron sarcastically spoke. Hagrid seemed to be oblivious to the sarcasm, however, and he nodded in agreeance.
The cabin was modest in size, composed of a single room. His bed was large and covered with a patchwork quilt. A similarly enormous table and chairs sat in front of the hearth, situated beneath an array of cured hams and dead birds that hung from his ceiling. They all took a seat at the table, discussing the Triwizard Tournament, it seemed Hagrid was just as excited as they were.
"You wait," He spoke, grinning wide. "You jus' wait. Yer going ter see some stuff yeh've never seen before. Firs' task...ah, but I'm not supposed ter say."
"Go on Hagrid!" They urged him, pushing to get even a sliver of news about the upcoming tournament.
"I don't want ter spoil it fer yeh," Hagrid thoughtfully spoke, a large hand running through his bushy beard. "But it's gonna be spectacular, I'll tell yeh that. Them champions're going ter have their work cut out. Never thought I'd live ter see the Triwizard Tournament played again!"
Through all the excited talk, they ended up staying for lunch in his hut, although they didn't eat much of what Hagrid assured them was a beef casserole; But after Hermione fished out a talon from hers, they had all lost their appetites. Thankfully, it was not all for nothing, they did get to badger Hagrid more about the Tournament.
A light rain had started that afternoon as they chatted with Hagrid. Unfortunately Hagrid flat out refused to join S.P.E.W when Hermione pulled out her box of badges to show him.
"It'd be doin' 'em an unkindness, Hermione," He spoke gravely, as he threaded a large bone needle with thick yellow yarn. "It's in their nature ter look after humans, that's what they like, see? Yeh'd be makin' 'em unhappy ter take away their work, an' insultin' em if yeh tried ter pay 'em."
"But Harry set Dobby free, and he was over the moon about it!" Hermione disagreed. "And we heard he's asking for wages now!"
"Yeah, well, yeh get weirdos in every breed. I'm not sayin' there isn't the odd elf who'd take freedom, but yeh'll never persuade most of 'em ter do it - no, nothin' doin', Hermione."
"Hagrid, if I may, that's because they have been conditioned over years of oppression to be like this. Do you honestly believe the whole time their species has existed they have served humans? They are incredibly powerful, they don't NEED to obey us. We've conditioned them to not only fear disobeying us, but to also fear physical punishment for failure/disagreement. It's not okay. They aren't pets to be domesticated, they deserve respect." Max huffed, siding with Hermione.
"Ya jus' don' know 'em like we do. Trust me" Hagrid sighed, ending the conversation there. Ron seemed to nod with Hagrid, in full agreeance, while Harry shuffled in his seat awkwardly.
By half past five it was growing dark, so they decided it was time to head back to the castle for the Halloween feast. Even more importantly, the announcement of the champions.
"I'll come with yeh," Hagrid announced, putting his away his knitting. "Jus' give us a sec."
He got up and went across the room to a chest of drawers beside his bed, and began searching for something. They didn't pay that close of attention to him, until a foul pungent smell flitted through their nostrils.
"Hagrid, what is that?" Ron spluttered, coughing into his arm,
"Eh?" Hagrid acknowledged as he turned around, "Don' yeh like it?"
"Is that aftershave?" Hermione asked, choking on the stench.
"Er - eau de cologne," Hagrid muttered, blushing deep red under his beard. "Maybe it's a bit much, I'll go take it off, hang on..."
He stomped out of the cabin and they watched him wash vigorously out of a barrel full of water outside.
"Eau de cologne?" Hermione said in amazement. "Hagrid?"
"And what's with the hair and suit?" Harry said in an undertone.
"What do you think?" Max chuckled, "It's obvious he's trying to woo someone." It almost seemed as if Harry was going to respond with a laugh of disagreement, but Ron shouted out first.
"Look!" He was pointing out the window towards Hagrid who had just straightened up and turned around. His blush seemed to be even worse and they slowly stood and peered out the window to see Madame Maxime and the Beauxbaton students just emerging from their carriage. They couldn't hear what was being said, but he was talking intently with Madame Maxime with a misty-eyed expression.
"He's going up to the castle with her!" Hermione said indignantly.
"Told ya." Max bragged, hand on her hip.
"I thought he was waiting for us!" Hermione continued, stomping her foot against the floor.
Hagrid had taken off towards the castle with Madame Maxime and her students, without so much as a backwards glance towards them. It almost seemed like he had forgotten they were there.
"Max is right! He fancies her!" Ron said incredulously.
"He sure does! It's no wonder, considering what they have in common." Max laughed as they shot her confused glances.
"What do they have in common?" Harry asked, confusion written all over his face.
"...you really are incredibly unobservant aren't you..." Max deadpanned, declining to explain further.
"Well, if they end up having children, they'll be setting a world record - bet any baby of theirs would weigh a ton." Ron joked, picking the conversation back up.
They let themselves out of the cabin and shut the door tightly behind them. It was already dark out, Max noted, surprisingly dark. They drew their cloaks tighter around themselves as they set up the sloping lawn towards the castle.
"Ooh it's them, look!" Hermione whispered, pointing towards the Durmstrang students who were also walking towards the castle from the lake, led by Karkaroff and Viktor.
They made it to the front doors reasonably quick and headed inside towards the Great Hall. When they entered, the entire Hall was lit up by candles, as the Goblet of Fire was now situated in front of Dumbledore's empty chair. Fred and George - who were now clean shaven - seemed to be taking their failure in stride, and instantly engrossed them in conversation once they had sat down.
"Feeling better old man Fred?" Max jested as Fred rolled his eyes.
"There is nothing wrong with failure. At least we tried. Nothing ventured nothing gained after all," Fred sagely spoke as he turned the conversation towards the potential champions. "I do hope it's Angelina."
"So do I!" Hermione agreed.
The feast was a flurry of excited whispered and quick eating. It seemed as if everyone was eager to discover who their champions would be. The food wasn't as extravagant as last night, but was still delicious all the same. About halfway through the feast most of the students had already finished and spent the rest of the time craning their heads to see if Dumbledore himself had finished yet.
At long last the golden plates returned to their spotless forms, and Dumbledore got to his feet. Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked tense, Ludo Bagman was beaming and winking to each student that caught his gaze, while Mr. Crouch merely looked bored and finished with the evening.
"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," Dumbledore started to speak. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" - he indicated to the door situated behind the staff table - "where they will be receiving their first instructions."
He took out his wand and gave a big sweeping wave across the hall. Once all the candles had been extinguished, the Goblet of Fire seemed to shine even brighter.
"Any second." Lee Jordan whispered. The room was eerily quiet, something Max was hardly used too.
The flames inside the goblet suddenly turned red again and sparks began to fly. In the next moment a tongue of flame shot up through the air, shooting a charred piece of parchment from it where it slowly fluttered down.
Dumbledore caught the piece of paper as the whole room gasped and held their breath in anticipation. The Goblet of Fire returned to it's blue and white flamed state as Dumbledore read off the first name.
"The champion for Durmstrang will be Viktor Krum." He spoke with a clear voice. The room erupted in applause.
"No surprises there!" Ron cheered, clapping hard along with the rest of the Hall. They watched as Viktor Krum made his way towards the staff table, walking along the length of the table, then disappeared into the next chamber.
"Bravo Viktor!" Karkaroff cheered, his booming voice echoing through the halls. "Knew you had it in you!"
Everyone soon quieted again as the Goblet began to flicker with the same intense ref fire and sparks. A second piece of parchment shot out, much the same as the previous one, and Dumbledore caught it with ease.
"The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!" He announced, the Hall erupting in cheers again as the veela-girl from before stood up, flicking her waist-length hair over her shoulder as she primly walked past the staff table, disappearing into the same chamber as Krum.
"It's her Ron!" Harry smacked Ron in the chest and he stared, mouth agape, at Fleur.
"Oh look, they're all disappointed." Hermione snorted, nodding towards the remaining Beauxbatons students. That seemed to be an understatement as most of them seemed to be in near tears at their failure to be chosen.
For the third, and last time, the Goblet sparked red again and the last parchment shot out, landing safely in Dumbledore's wrinkled hand.
"The Hogwarts champion," Dumbledore began, stretching it out in anticipation. "Is Cedric Diggory!"
"No!" Ron cried as everyone hooted and hollered for the handsome Hufflepuff. Cedric got to his feet, smiling wide and kind, and made his way up to Dumbledore, before disappearing through the door too.
"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real -" But Dumbledore never got to finish, as the Goblet of Fire glowed red once again and shot another parchment out, sparks and all.
As if on automatic, it seemed, Dumbledore's hand shot out and grasped the paper tightly. There was a long pause as he read the slip of parchment, his eyes shifting back and forth as if he couldn't quite believe it.
"Harry Potter." he spoke calmly as the Hall erupted in confused gasps and accusations. Harry instantly turned red and sunk down into his seat. Unfortunately, before Dumbledore could speak, the goblet glowed once again and a second errant paper flew out, landing in his hands. This time, however, he frowned and seemed to look angry for a moment.
"And Max Suthers." To say that Severus looked furious was an understatement as she locked eyes with him, pleading to the heavens and beyond that she could get out of this mess in one piece.
They both sat there acutely aware that every eye was on them. Max swallowed thick in her throat as she locked eyes with the boy-who-lived. There was no applause for them, and instead angry jeers and questions that Max couldn't quite concentrate on. Every noise was replaced by a dull buzzing as she wracked her brain on how the fuck a fifth name could even shoot from the cup, and why.
At the front of hall Professor McGonagall had gotten to her feet and swept down towards Dumbledore and whispered furiously in his ear. Severus' stony expression did not change as the accusation rang like bells. Everyone believed they had gotten their names in on purpose.
Shit.
~Chapter 8 End~
