The Alexander Chronicles Year 4: The Return of Darkness

by the22nddoctor

Many things have changed in Alexander s life, his mother is in Azkaban and he have learned that he is the son of Sirius Black. This year Alex has to battle both his inner darkness that is growing stronger inside him, and the outside darkness that is returning stronger than ever, not even Hogwarts is safe. Beside that, he have to deal with being a teenager. Have been rewritten.

11. Chapter 11 An not so old familiar face

The Alexander Chronicles Year 4: The Return of Darkness.

Chapter 11: A not so old familiar face.

Through the gates, flanked with statues of winged boars, and up the sweeping drive the carriages trundled, swaying dangerously in what was fast becoming a gale. Leaning against the window, Alex could see Hogwarts coming nearer, its many lighted windows blurred and shimmering behind the thick curtain of rain. Lightning flashed across the sky as their carriage came to a halt before the great oak front doors, which stood at the top of a flight of stone steps. People who had occupied the carriages in front were already hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. Alex, Daphne, Tracey, Blaise, Susan and Hannah jumped down from their carriage and dashed up the steps too, looking up only when they were safely inside the cavernous, torch-lit entrance hall, with its magnificent marble staircase.

"If it keeps raining like the bloody lake is going to overflow." Blaise said, he was about to say something more, but the words ended out in a yelp. As green water balloon hit him from above splashing him with water. Blaise staggered sideways into Alex, just as a second water bomb dropped - narrowly missing Daphne, it burst at Alex and Tracey´s feet, sending a wave of cold water over his shoes into their socks. The third one hit Susan causing her to yelp in shock.

Alex looked up and saw that floating twenty feet above them was Peeves the Poltergeist, a little man in a bell-covered hat and orange bow tie, his wide, malicious face contorted with concentration as he took aim again. Alex was just about to get his wand from his robes to curse the annoying Poltergeist out of the corner of his eyes Alex could see that other students where doing the same. However, before anyone could start sending curses away, an angry voice sounded. "Peeves, come down here at ONCE!" Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and head of Gryffindor House, had come dashing out of the Great Hall; she skidded on the wet floor and grabbed Tracey around the neck to stop herself from falling.

"Ouch Oh I am sorry Miss Davis."

"It is okay professor." Tracey gasped, massaging her throat. "No harm done."

Professor McGonagall nodded "Peeves, get down here NOW!" she barked, straightening her pointed hat and glaring upward through her square-rimmed spectacles.

"Not doing nothing!" cackled Peeves, lobbing a water bomb at several fifth-year girls, who screamed and dived into the Great Hall. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!" And he aimed another bomb at a group of second years who had just arrived.

"I shall call the headmaster!" Professor McGonagall shouted. "I'm warning you, Peeves -"

Peeves stuck out his tongue, threw the last of his water bombs into the air, and zoomed off up the marble staircase, cackling insanely.

"That jerk." Blaise hissed, making Susan nod in agreement.

"Well, move along, then!" Professor McGonagall said sharply to the bedraggled crowd. "Into the Great Hall, come on!"

Alex, Blaise, Daphne, Tracey, Hannah and Susan all slipped and slid across the entrance hall and through the double doors on the right. Blaise muttering furiously about ways of getting back at Peeves as he entered the Great Hall, some of them sounded very painful or at least it would have been if it was done at a living being.

The Hall looked its usual splendid self, decorated for the start-of-term feast. Golden plates and goblets gleamed by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles, floating over the tables in mid-air. The four long House tables were packed with chattering students; at the top of the Hall, the staff sat along one side of a fifth table, facing their pupils. It was much warmer in here. Alex bid his friends from Slytherin goodbye, as he and the two Hufflepuff walked by the Slytherin table and continued towards theirs, As they came to the Hufflepuffs Alex politely said goodbye to the two girls and continued past the Ravenclaws towards his own table where he sat beside Neville and Hermione. Alex gave a quick smile to the Gryffindor houses ghost Nearly Headless Nick who was floating above the table.

Pearly white and semi-transparent, Nick was dressed tonight in his usual doublet, but with a particularly large ruff, which served the dual purpose of looking extra-festive, and insuring that his head didn't wobble too much on his partially severed neck. Ivy's electric blue hair gleamed in the candlelight as he smiled back.

"Good evening," Nick said, beaming at them.

"Says who?" Harry said, as Alex took off his sneakers and emptying them of water.

"Don´t mind them Sir. Nicholas they just angry because of the weather." Alex said. "I hope that you had a good summer."

"It was satisficing." Nick said, "I trust yours was that as well."

"It was fine." Alex lied as his mind flashed back to the world cup, and what happened there.

"Hope that they will hurry with the Sorting, I'm starving." Alex heard Harry say to Hermione and Ron.

Nick sighed and gave Alex a nod before floating away. Alex didn´t really understand why Harry wanted to sorting to be over quickly. Sure he was hungry too, but he looked forward to seeing one where he wasn´t the one that was sorted. Sure, there had been the last year, but somehow he had missed it. A breathless and exited voice made Alex look in Harry´s direction.

"Hiya, Harry!" Alex saw that it was Colin Creevey, a third year to who was hero worshiping Harry, much to the his annoyance.

"Hi, Colin," said Harry wearily.

"Harry, guess what? My brother is starting! My brother Dennis!"

"Er - good," Harry said, trying to end the conversation.

"He's really excited!" Colin said, practically bouncing up and down in his seat. "I just hope he's in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Harry?"

"Er - yeah, all right," said Harry. He turned back to Alex, Hermione, and Ron. "Brothers and sisters usually go in the same Houses, don't they?" Harry said. Alex figured he was judging by the Weasleys, all seven of whom had been put into Gryffindor.

"Oh no, not necessarily," Hermione answered before he could. "Parvati Patil's twin's in Ravenclaw and they're identical. You'd think they'd be together, wouldn't you?"

Alex looked away sometimes he thought that the house system was stupid. Everybody had those qualities that each house represented of course some were stronger then others. Alex had found that many only associated with people from their own house, which were too bad.

Alex´s gaze ended up at the staff table. There seemed to be rather more empty seats there than usual. Hagrid, of course, was still fighting his way across the lake with the first years; Professor McGonagall was presumably supervising the drying of the entrance hall floor, but there was another empty chair too, and he figured it would be the new Defence Against the Dart Arts professor.

"Where's the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Hermione, who was also looking up at the teachers, and too had noticed the empty spot.

They had never yet had a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher who had lasted more than a school year. Their favourite by far had been Professor Lupin, who had resigned last year.

"Maybe they couldn't get anyone!" said Hermione, looking anxious.

Alex scanned the table more carefully. Tiny little Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher and one of Alex´s favourites, was sitting on a large pile of cushions beside Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher, whose hat was askew over her flyaway gray hair. She was talking to Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department. On Professor Sinistra's other side was the sallow-faced, hook-nosed, greasy-haired Potions master, Snape - Harry's least favourite.

On Snape's other side was an empty seat, which Alex guessed was Professor McGonagall's. Next to it, and in the very centre of the table, sat Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, his sweeping silver hair and beard shining in the candlelight, his magnificent deep green robes embroidered with many stars and moons. The tips of Dumbledore's long, thin fingers were together and he was resting his chin upon them, staring up at the ceiling through his half-moon spectacles as though lost in thought. There was also Madam Pomfrey who were teaching Alex´s healing class and was the school nurse.

There was Professor Babbling who was teaching Ancient Runes was also there, along with Madam Hooch and Professor Vector and Burbage whom Alex didn´t really knew.

Alex glanced from the teachers to at the ceiling above. It was enchanted to look like the sky outside, and he had never seen it look this stormy. Black and purple clouds were swirling across it, and as another thunderclap sounded outside, a fork of lightning flashed across it.

"Oh hurry up," Ron moaned, beside Harry, "I could eat a hippogriff." Alex rolled his eyes at Ron. He was going to try avoiding him all year, and hang out with Hermione and Harry without him. It would be difficult since they were in the same house, had the same classes, lived in the same dorm, and that Ron was best friends with Harry.

The Great Hall doors opened and silence fell. Professor McGonagall was leading a long line of first years up to the top of the Hall, as the last first new student had entered whispers broke out among the students. It wasn´t about the way McGonagall had brought the first years in, that was normal. The reason behind the whispers was that at the end of the line of the first years was taller and older boy, he had blond hair. Alex was pretty sure it was the boy he had met at the Ministry, the one who had helped him and Blaise get past the aurror office. Alex couldn't really remember his name it was Erik or something like that. Whatever his name was, the boy looked pretty nervous over the fact that most eyes was on him. Not that Alex blamed, he remembered how uncountable it had been standing out when he had been sorted as a second year, and even there Alex could blend in better as he wasn´t that much older than the first years.

"Wow looks like someone is starting a bit late," Ron snorted, "what were held back because he was stupid?"

"Shut it Ron, you don´t even know him yet." Alex growled.

"Well I know that he looks like a loser, if you want to be befriend him then be my guest – you properly be a good fit anyway."

Alex clenched his fists, but before he could do anything Hermione smacked Ron in the head, "that is a horrible thing to say, just think about how he must feel."

"Yeah come on man, how would you feel if you were the one up there." Harry whispered sounding angry.

"However he do look to old to be a first year. If I had to guess he is our age maybe a year younger. So why hasn´t he been sorted."

"Well there are two options." Alex explained. "Either he have been home-schooled like as I was or is an exchange student."

All talking stopped when Professor McGonagall placed a three-legged stool on the ground before the first years and, on top of it, an extremely old, dirty patched wizard's hat. The first years and Erik stared at it. So did everyone else. For a moment, there was silence. Then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song:

A thousand years or more ago,

When I was newly sewn,

There lived four wizards of renown,

Whose names are still well known:

Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,

Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,

Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,

Shrewd Slytherin, from fen.

They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,

They hatched a daring plan

To educate young sorcerers

Thus Hogwarts School began.

Now each of these four founders

Formed their own house, for each

Did value different virtues

In the ones they had to teach.

By Gryffindor, the bravest were

Prized far beyond the rest;

For Ravenclaw, the cleverest

Would always be the best;

For Hufflepuff, hard workers were

Most worthy of admission;

And the cunning Slytherin

Loved those of great ambition.

While still alive they did divide

Their favourites from the throng,

Yet how to pick the worthy ones

When they were dead and gone?

'It was Gryffindor who found the way,

He whipped me off his head

The founders put some brains in me

So I could choose instead!

Now slip me snug about your ears,

I've never yet been wrong,

I'll have a look inside your mind

And tell where you belong!

The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished.

"Wait that wasn´t the song it sang when we were sorted." Harry said while was clapping along with everyone else.

"No," Alex said "it have a new one every year."

"I heard that it spends all year spending all year making up a new song." Alex heard Ron say to Harry. "Although it properly doesn´t have much else to do."

Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment.

"When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool," she told the first years. "When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table.

"Ackerley, Stewart!"

A boy walked forward, visibly trembling nervously from head to foot, picked up the Sorting Hat, put it on, and sat down on the stool.

"RAVENCLAW!" shouted the hat.

Stewart Ackerley took off the hat and hurried into a seat at the Ravenclaw table, where everyone was applauding him. It was then Alex noticed that all the first years and Erik was surprisingly dry for some who had just crossed the lake in that rainstorm. In fact, they looked completely dry, and warm. Alex wondered what had made them so dry presumably a spell, but it was one that he didn´t knew.

"Baddock, Malcolm!" Professor McGonagall said and another boy came forth.

"SLYTHERIN!"

The table on the other side of the hall erupted with cheers; Alex could see Daphne, Blaise, and Tracey clapping as Baddock joined the Slytherins.

"Branstone, Eleanor!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Cauldwell, Owen!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Creevey, Dennis!"

Tiny Dennis Creevey staggered forward, just as Hagrid himself sidled into the Hall through a door behind the teachers' table. About twice as tall as a normal man, and at least three times as broad, Hagrid, with his long, wild, tangled black hair and beard, looked slightly alarming – a misleading impression, for Alex, Harry, Neville, Ron, and Hermione knew Hagrid to possess a very kind nature. He winked at them as he sat down at the end of the staff table and watched Dennis Creevey putting on the Sorting Hat. The rip at the brim opened wide— -

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted.

Hagrid clapped along with the Gryffindors as Dennis Creevey, beaming widely, took off the hat, placed it back on the stool, and hurried over to join his brother.

"Colin, I fell in!" he said shrilly, throwing himself into an empty seat. "It was brilliant! And something in the water grabbed me and pushed me back in the boat!"

"Cool!" Colin said, just as excitedly. "It was probably the giant squid, Dennis!"

"Wow!" said Dennis, as though nobody in their wildest dreams could hope for more than being thrown into a storm-tossed, fathoms-deep lake, and pushed out of it again by a giant sea monster. "And Colin there was something else too, like when we entered the castle we were like really wet and like really cold. Then there was this older boy that were with us, that was drying himself with his wand. When he was done he asked us to get in a line and he dried us as well. It was just so cool it was like he had hairdryer. So is he a student Colin do you know him?"

"No I don´t, but Dennis! See that boy down there? The boy with the black hair and glasses and green eyes? See him? Know who he is, Dennis?"

Alex watched, as Harry looked away, staring very hard at the Sorting Hat, now Sorting Emma Dobbs.

It was then Alex noticed Daphne´s sister. Astoria Greengrass looked at lot like her sister, but her hair was a darker shade of blonde.

"Greengrass, Astoria."

Astoria walked to Sorting Hat with a small smile on her face. The hat was on her head for a few seconds, before it screamed; "Slytherin." Alex smiled; Daphne had gotten what she wished for.

The Sorting continued; boys and girls with varying degrees of fright on their faces moving one by one to the three-legged stool, the line dwindling slowly as Professor McGonagall passed the L´s.

"Oh hurry up," Ron moaned, massaging his stomach.

"Now, Ron, the Sorting's much more important than food," said Nearly Headless Nick as "Madley, Laura!" became a Hufflepuff.

"Course it is, if you're dead," Ron snapped.

"I do hope this year's batch of Gryffindors are up to scratch," Nearly Headless Nick said to Alex, as they both were applauding as "McDonald, Natalie!" joined the Gryffindor table. "We don't want to break our winning streak, do we?" Alex nodded after all Gryffindor had won the Inter-House Championship for the last three years in a row.

"Pritchard, Graham!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Quirke, Orla!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

And finally, with "Whitby, Kevin!" ("HUFFLEPUFF!"), every first had been sorted. However, Erik was still standing and McGonagall hadn´t removed the hat. The whispers quickly broke out again.

"Who is that boy?"

"Why hasn´t he been sorted?"

"He can´t be a first year?"

It was then Dumbledore stood up, making everyone quit.

"As you might have seen there is a students that hasn´t been sorted yet." Dumbledore said and waved his hand at Erik. "This is Erik Jensen, he have just moved to England with his family and will now be attending our school. I expect his housemates and his classmates in fourth year to make him feel welcome" this time the whispers was even louder. Alex could hear Hermione as she wondered where Erik was from, but all the whispering stopped as Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Now Erik please step forward."

As the whispers broke out again, a very nervous Erik stepped towards the hat. The blush on his face made it clear that he didn´t enjoy that all eyes were on him.

After McGonagall had placed the sorting hat on him. It took some minutes before that hat shouted. Alex watched as he wondered which house he would go to, the only thing he knew about him was that he was helpful and friendly.

"Ravenclaw!" The hat yelled and Alex along with the Ravenclaws clapped the loudest as Erik walked to his new house table, where he was greeted by Mellissa Robinson.

"About time," Ron, said as the sorting hat was removed. He was seizing his knife and fork and looking expectantly at his golden plate.

Professor Dumbledore had gotten to his feet once again. He was smiling around at the students, his arms opened wide in welcome.

"I have only two words to say to you," he told them, his deep voice echoing around the Hall. "Tuck in."

"Hear, hear!" said Harry and Ron loudly as the empty dishes filled magically before their eyes. Nearly Headless Nick watched mournfully as everyone loaded their own plates.

"Aaah, 'at's be'er," said Ron, with his mouth full of mashed potato. Alex shuddered; Ron was so disgusting right now.

"You're lucky there's a feast at all tonight, you know," said Nearly Headless Nick. "There was trouble in the kitchens earlier."

"Why? Wha' 'appened?" said Harry, through a sizable chunk of steak.

"Peeves, of course," Nearly Headless Nick said, shaking his head, which wobbled dangerously. He pulled his ruff a little higher up on his neck. "The usual argument, you know. He wanted to attend the feast - well, it's quite out of the question, you know what he's like, utterly uncivilized, can't see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghost's council - the Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance – but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down."

The Bloody Baron was the Slytherin ghost, a gaunt and silent spectre covered in silver bloodstains. He was the only person at Hogwarts who could really control Peeves, beside Dumbledore.

"Yeah, we thought Peeves seemed hacked off about something," said Ron darkly. "So what did he do in the kitchens?"

"Oh the usual," said Nearly Headless Nick, shrugging. "Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup. Terrified the house-elves out of their wits—"

Clang.

"Oi I am trying to eat where is everyone's table manners?" Alex hissed.

Hermione had knocked over her golden goblet. Pumpkin juice spread steadily over the tablecloth, staining several feet of white linen orange and some spilling onto Alex who was patting himself down with his napkin, but Hermione paid no attention.

"There are house-elves here?" she said, staring, horror-struck, at Nearly Headless Nick. "Here at Hogwarts?"

"Certainly," Nearly Headless Nick said, looking surprised at her reaction. "The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred."

"I've never seen one!" said Hermione.

"Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they?" Nearly Headless Nick said. "They come out at night to do a bit of cleaning… see to the fires and so on… I mean, you're not supposed to see them, are you? That's the mark of a good house-elf, isn't it, that you don't know it's there?"

Hermione stared at him.

"But they get paid?" she said. "They get holidays, don't they? And - and sick leave, and pensions, and everything?"

Nearly Headless Nick chortled so much that his ruff slipped and his head flopped off, dangling on the inch or so of ghostly skin and muscle that still attached it to his neck.

"Sick leave and pensions?" he said, pushing his head back onto his shoulders and securing it once more with his ruff. "House-elves don't want sick leave and pensions!"

Hermione looked down at her hardly touched plate of food, then put her knife and fork down upon it and pushed it away from her.

"Oh c'mon, 'Er-my-knee," said Ron, accidentally spraying Harry with bits of Yorkshire pudding, making Alex roll his eyes. "Oops — sorry, 'Arry —" He swallowed. "You won't get them sick leave by starving yourself!"

"Slave labour," Hermione said, breathing hard through her nose. "That's what made this dinner. Slave labour."

And she refused to eat another bite.

"Hermione come you can´t just stop eating, without understanding the facts just-"

"Shut it, Alex!" Hermione hissed, shocking Alex of her tone. "I am not interested in hearing augments for one who are eating slave food."

The rain was still drumming heavily against the high, dark glass. Another clap of thunder shook the windows, and the stormy ceiling flashed, illuminating the golden plates as the remains of the first course vanished and were replaced, instantly, with puddings.

"Treacle tart, Hermione!" Ron said delibratetaly wafting its smell towards her. "Stotted dick look! Chocolate gateau." However Ron shut up, when Hermione gave him an angry look.

When the puddings too had been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard.

"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "Now that we are all fed and watered," ("Hmph!" said Hermione) "I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. He continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year.

"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

"What?" Alex heard Harry gasp.

Dumbledore went on, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts -"

But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swivelled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark grey hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table.

A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Hermione gasped.

The lightning had thrown the man's face into sharp relief, and it was a face unlike any Alex had ever seen. It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood, by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces are supposed to look like, and was not too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes that made him frightening.

One of them was small, dark, and beady, like a normal one. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye - and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all they could see was whiteness.

The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words Alex couldn't hear. He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side.

The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark grey hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students.

"May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody."

It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students chapped except Dumbledore and Hagrid, who both put their hands together and applauded, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by Moody's bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him. Including Alex he was amazed that they had the honour of being thought by a legend.

"Moody?" Alex heard Harry mutter to Ron. "Mad-Eye Moody? The one your dad went to help this morning?"

"Must be," said Ron in a low, awed voice.

"What happened to him?" Hermione whispered. "What happened to his face?"

"Dunno," Ron whispered back, watching Moody with fascination.

Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his travelling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, and took a long draught from it.

As he lifted his arm to drink, his cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground, and Alex saw, below the table, several inches of carved wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot.

Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, "we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" said Fred Weasley loudly.

The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," he said. "Though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar." Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Er - but maybe this is not the time… no…" said Dumbledore, "where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament… well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely.

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

"Death toll?" Hermione whispered, looking alarmed. But her anxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of students in the Hall; many of them were whispering excitedly to one another, and Alex himself was far more interested in hearing about the tournament than in worrying about deaths that had happened hundreds of years ago. He love a chance of being in the Tournament, if he won he would be famous.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time; no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger.

"The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

"I'm going for it!" Fred hissed down the table, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. He was not the only person who seemed to be visualising himself as the Hogwarts champion. At every House table, Alex could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore, or else whispering fervently to their neighbours. But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration.

This" — Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious. "Is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred's and George's mutinous faces. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen."

There was a pause.

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

Dumbledore sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody. There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall.

"They can't do that!" said George, who had not joined the crowd moving toward the door, but was standing up and glaring at Dumbledore. "We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a shot?"

"They're not stopping me entering," Fred said stubbornly, also scowling at the top table. "The champions will get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money!"

"Yeah," said Ron, a faraway look on his face. "Yeah, a thousand Galleons…"

"Come on," Hermione said, "We'll be the only ones left here if you don't move.

Alex and Neville followed other Gryffindors as they made their way towards the entrance hall.

"I wonder how they're going to choose the Champions?" Neville wondered, as the two climbed the steps.

"I don´t really know." Alex replied, scratching his shoulder. "What d'you reckon? Be cool to enter, wouldn't it?" He asked Neville. "I mean, if we could. I don´t know if we have learned enough though. However I would love to go toe to toe with the best."

"Yeah but you would have a chance, I wouldn't." Neville said gloomily. "Well, I expect my gran'd want me to try anyway," he said. "She's always going on about how I should be upholding the family honour. I'll just have to — oops…"

Neville's foot had sunk right through a step halfway up the staircase. There were many of these trick stairs at Hogwarts; it was second nature to most of the older students to jump this particular step, but Neville's memory was notoriously poor. Alex and someone else seized him under the armpits and pulled him out, while a suit of armour at the top of the stairs creaked and clanked, laughing wheezily. Alex glanced at the other person and saw it was Ginny.

"Shut it, you," Ginny said, banging down its visor as they passed.

"Hey, Ginny," Alex said.

"Hey," Ginny greeted with a smile.

"Thanks, Ginny," Neville said with a blush.

"No problem," Ginny replied with a smile and continued ahead of the two Gryffindors and up the stairs.

"I am useless aren't I?"

"What? No you isn´t. Neville you are a great wizard. I mean you are the best in Hebology, and you does okay in Charms."

"Yeah but," Neville begun as the two boys walked towards the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. "I am not good at duelling like you are and I suck at potions."

"So? Look there lots of different kind of magic, so if you like Hebology then go for it." Alex said as the portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said as they approached. Alex looked at Neville who went wide-eyed and shrugged.

"Balderdash," said Alex, wrapping his arm around an embarrassed Neville.

The portrait swung forward to reveal a hole in the wall through which the two climbed. A crackling fire warmed the circular common room, which was full of squashy armchairs and tables.

"I mean it Nev, you are a great wizard. You grandmother is bound to see that too."

Alex and Neville climbed up the last, spiral staircase until they reached their own dormitory, which was situated at the top of the tower. Six four-poster beds with deep crimson hangings stood against the walls, each with its owner's trunk at the foot. Harry, Ron, Dean and Seamus were already inside, getting ready for bed.

Neville smiled in thanks to Alex before the two boys got into their pyjamas and into bed. Someone - a house-elf no doubt - had placed warming pans between the sheets. it was extremely comfortable, lying there in bed and listening to the storm raging outside.

Alex closed his eyes and imaged of how cool it would be to enter the Tournament and win Eternal Glory. He would be the youngest that had ever done it. He could just picture himself standing with the trophy raised above his head with everybody cheering his name. His parents who would had been set free and would come over to him. The cheers would get louder and louder. Then Alex would see Daphne in the crowd, with a look of admiration on her face. Alex would then grab her hand, and pull her on the stage there he would lean in and kiss her causing the crowd to go ballistic. The best part was that Daphne would kiss him back.

Alex smiled to himself, glad that nobody knew what he was thinking.

…

Chapter end.

So Erik have come to Hogwarts, and joined the Ravenclaw house it is up to time to see if he and Alex will be friends. A big thanks to those who have reviewed and added my story to their favourite list.