Chapter One. 1991.
If it hadn't been for everything that had happened at the Quidditch World Cup during the summer the way everyone had been behaving might have been amusing, the half-sentences a sign of an amusing or exciting secret but as it was they just served to make him all the more paranoid about the coming school year. His only comfort was the fact that Ron and Hermione, his best friends since their first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, were just as confused as he was by everyone's strange behaviour that morning.
"I might be seeing you all sooner than you think," Charlie, Ron's second oldest brother, chuckled brightly when they returned from storing their trunks in the guards van. Still grinning he reached out to give Ginny, Ron's younger sister and the first female born into the Weasley family for generations, a hug so tight he accidentally lifted her off of her feet.
"Why?" Fred, the eldest Weasley twin, demanded.
"You'll see," Charlie responded, his cheerful manner doing absolutely nothing to ease the worry building in Harry's chest at the ominous words. "Just don't tell Percy I mentioned it…it's 'classified information until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it' after all."
Given his past dealing with Ministry of Magic the knowledge that they had a hand in the secrecy only served to make Harry frown deeper. They'd tried to expel him the previous year, after all, for defending his muggle cousin from a bunch of Dementors and they were the ones who had forced Sirius, his Godfather and the closest link he had to his deceased parents, to go on the run after having wrongly imprisoned him for a crime he didn't commit.
No, Harry definitely wasn't comforted to know that the Ministry was involved somehow.
"Yeah," Bill, Ron's eldest brother who wore his flaming red hair in an effortlessly cool looking ponytail which his mother kept threatening to chop off, sighed deeply as he gazed wistfully at the train, hands in his pockets. "I sort of wish I was back at Hogwarts this year."
"Why?" George, the younger Weasley twin, demanded impatiently,
"You're going to have an interesting year," Bill responded, his eyes twinkling even as his words filled Harry with dread. Every year thus far had been an interesting year for him and his friends, ranging from confronting a psychotic professor who had another man's head underneath his turban to fighting a basilisk to being attacked by Dementors. He'd been hoping for a painfully quiet year. "I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it…"
"A bit of what?"
Ron had been Harry's first ever friend, ever since they'd sat together on their way to Hogwarts for their first year. His friend had welcomed him into his wonderful wacky family without a second thought, even going so far as to break him out of his bedroom after his muggle relatives had locked him up during the summer between his first and second years, using his dad's flying car to do so and had become something akin to a brother to Harry.
Unfortunately his redheaded friends exasperated question was answered by the trains whistle offering up three sharp blasts, prompting parents up and down the station to begin saying their final goodbyes and ensuring the students boarded safely. Mrs Weasley was no exception, immediately stepping forwards and chivvying them towards the train doors.
"Thanks for having us to stay, Mrs Weasley," Hermione murmured politely as they climbed on board, closing the door and leaning out of the open window in order the squeeze in their final goodbyes. Only four of them could fit, however, so the twins were pushed back and were forced to jump and down in order to see their mother over the group at the door.
"Yeah," Harry murmured, reminded of his manners by his muggleborn friend as he held Ginny steady in front of him as the girl wobbled. "Thanks for everything, Mrs Weasley."
Hermione hadn't been his friend to begin with, the terrible don't doing nothing to win any of their favours until she had lied to protect Harry and Ron after the unfortunate incident with the troll in the girl's bathroom. Ever since then the three of them had been nigh on inseparable and both his and Ron's grades had benefited from the unexpected friendship, the female member of their trio a literal sponge for knowledge. There was a reason so many of the teachers referred to her as "the smartest witch of their age." Hermione was brilliant.
"Oh, it was my pleasure, dears," said Mrs Weasley. "I'd invite you for Christmas, but…well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with…one thing and another."
"Mum!" Ron cried out irritably. "What d'you three know that we don't?"
Behind their mother Bill and Charlie shared a secretive smirk and a deep chuckle.
"You'll find out this evening, I expect," was Mrs Weasley's ever so calm response, her smile never faltering. "It's going to be very exciting – mind you, I'm glad they've change the rules."
"What rules?" Harry demanded alongside, Ron, Fred and George. Neither Hermione nor Ginny seemed all that bothered by the secrecy although Hermione did look rather nervous.
"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you," Mrs Weasley responded calmly before fixing her gaze on the two identical faces appearing and disappearing behind those of the others. "Now, behave, won't you? Won't you, Fred? And you, George? I don't want any more…"
A combination of hissing and clunking sounds filled the air as the train began to move.
"Tell us what's happening at Hogwarts?" Fred bellowed out of the window after forcing his way through the others, literally pushing them aside in his haste which left Harry pressing Ginny up against the partition wall. George followed his twin, plastering himself to the others back as he too leaned his head out of the window. "What rules are they changing?"
"Sorry," Harry murmured, pulling himself away from the blushing thirteen year old girl even as the twin's demands went unanswered and the platform disappeared completely from view. Letting out a huff the twins pulled the window closed with a loud bang and stormed off to find out what their group of friends knew. "Let's go and find a compartment, guys."
Ron and Hermione had been forced into a similar position as Harry and Ginny and seemed equally as embarrassed about it, springing apart and eagerly hurrying along the corridor. Poor Ginny was left standing alone for a long moment as Harry hurried after his friends before the infatuated third year let out a deep sigh and set off to find her own friends.
"This one's free," Hermione announced, relieved, and ducked into the compartment. She settled down onto one of the long bench seats, the ancient springs protesting loudly. "Come on, Ron. No point worrying about it now. We'll just have to wait and see what happens."
"But Bagman wanted to tell us what's happening at Hogwarts, remember?" the most volatile of the three of them huffed as he dropped down onto the other bench seat. Harry, as the last in, turned around on the spot and began struggling to pull the stiff sliding door closed. "At the World Cup, remember? But my own mother won't say. Wonder what – "
A flash of white-blonde hair prompted Harry to hiss sharply, abandoning his attempt to close the door and leaving it open a crack as he hurried to take the seat beside Hermione.
"Shh!" he hissed once more, nodding towards the door. "Listen."
Within seconds of him holding his finger to his lips the voice of their sworn enemy filtered through the crack in the door, the Slytherin's having chosen the compartment next to theirs to take over by literally dragging the poor souls already sat inside it out by their collars.
"…Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the Headmaster, you see," Fleur DeLacour announced as pompously as ever, her clipped voice breaking through the frightened whimpers of the students hurrying away from them like a knife. Harry could easily picture her standing with one hand on her hip, nails filed into the deadly talons she usually favoured, the other flipping her long hair over her shoulders as she pulled back her shoulders to show of her breasts. "Well, you know his opinions of Dumbledore, Mothers too – the man's such a Mudblood-lover – and Durmstrang doesn't admit that sort of riff-raff. But Mother didn't like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defence rubbish we do…"
It was Hermione who jumped up from her seat and proceeded to slam the door closed.
"So she thinks Durmstrang would have suited her, does she?" she huffed angrily as she returned to her seat, producing a worryingly thick book seemingly from nowhere and opening it on her lap. "I wish she had gone, then we wouldn't have had to put up with her."
Harry, as was becoming more and more common just lately, was struck with confusion.
"…Durmstrang's another wizarding school?"
"Yes," Hermione answered, flicking through the pages of her book far too quickly to actually be reading them. She was probably looking for her place, he realised, remembering the fact that she didn't like to use bookmarks in case they damaged the pages and that she considered dog-earring pages to be a crime. "And it's got a horrible reputation. According to 'An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe' it puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark Arts."
"I think I've heard of it," Ron mumbled from where he had already opened up his sandwiches and stuffed half of one in his mouth. "Ugh. Plum. Where is it? What country?"
"Don't talk with your mouth full," Hermione scolded him automatically, grimacing at the unpleasantly familiar sight before her. "And nobody knows where the school is, obviously."
"Er…why not?"
"There's traditionally been a lot of rivalry between all of the magic schools," Hermione answered, her voice much gentler now that she was addressing Harry. "Durmstrang and Beauxbatons like to conceal their whereabouts to that no one can steal their secrets."
Harry was still struggling to process the fact that there were apparently other magical schools no one had ever bothered to tell him about whilst Hermione and Ron argued about the practicalities of "hiding" and entire school. This argument, of course, led to an entirely too factual explanation from Hermione about the various techniques they could have used.
"…or it might have Muggle-Repelling Charms on it, like the World Cup Stadium," Hermione was explaining matter-of-factly when he tuned back into the conversation. "And to keep foreign witches and wizards from finding it they'll have made it Unplottable – "
"Come again?"
"Well, you can enchant a building so it's impossible to plot on a map, can't you?"
"Er…if you say so…"
Harry took comfort in the fact that Ron seemed equally as surprised by this knowledge, reassuring him that it wasn't just his muggle upbringing keeping him in the dark this time. Ron was a pureblood, like Fleur only nicer, so it was obviously just a case of Hermione spending far too much time in the library, yet again, rather than him not being told things.
"But I think Durmstrang must be somewhere in the far north," Hermione mused thoughtfully, returning her attention to her book and the search for her place amongst the pages. "Somewhere very cold, because they've got fur capes as part of their uniforms."
"Think of the possibilities," Ron chuckled, slumping down and stretching his legs out to rest on the seat opposite, much to Hermione's disapproval, as his hands absentmindedly brought the other half of his sandwich to his mouth. "It would've been so easy to push DeLacour off a glacier and make it look like an accident…shame her mother likes her…"
It was reassuring that nothing out of the ordinary happened for the remainder of the journey, unlike last year when the Dementors had attacked, and that the most exciting moment had been when Seamus, Dean and Neville had tumbled into their compartment sparking a rather heated debate about the match between Ireland and Bulgaria. Neville hadn't been able to convince his grandmother to get them tickets so he was more than eager to listen to every single detail as told by the people who had actually been there.
Even the confrontation with DeLacour had been somewhat predictable in that it had happened although some of her comments were just as vague as Mrs Weasley's and Ron's older brothers had been back on the station, meaning that she knew something they didn't.
"So…going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name?" she'd giggled derisively from the door which had been left open since their friends had joined them. Her stance had been exactly how Harry had pictured it in his mind. "There's money involved as well, you know…you'd be able to afford some decent robes if you won…"
"What are you talking about?"
"Are you going to enter?" Fleur had responded to Ron's angry question by repeating her own much slower, intoning it as though she were speaking to a child. It had made all of their blood boil. "I suppose you will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?"
Harry was relieved every single time he spoke to his rival that he had turned down her gracious offer of friendship on their first night at the castle back in their First Year. He genuinely couldn't imagine being friends with someone so heartless, vindictive and cruel.
"Either explain what you're on about or go away, DeLacour," Hermione had said testily over the top of her book which had turned out to be 'The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Four.'
The smile that Fleur had offered them could only be described as gleefully smug.
"Don't tell me you don't know?" she had crowed delightfully, flicking her hair back dramatically as her gaggle of cronies chuckled along with her. Crabbe and Goyle followed her around like a pair of lovesick puppies, ogling her breasts as soon as they had begun to show last year and obeying her every whim. Pansy Parkinson loathed her, everyone knew that, but she also knew that it was better to be friends with the girl she was jealous of than to be her enemy and so she played the role of best girl friend very well. Blaise Zabini was the smartest in their group, dark and mysterious whilst Theodore Knott was amazingly shy for a member of Slytherin house. He was a sheep, plain and simple, and did whatever his friends did. Pike, the thug, was there as always even though no one really liked him. "You've got a father and a brother at the Ministry and you don't ever know? My God, my father told me about it ages ago…heard it from Cornelius Fudge himself. But then, Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry…maybe your fathers too junior to know about it, Weasley…yes…they probably don't talk about the important stuff in front of him."
Harry really couldn't blame Ron for slamming the door shut with enough force to break the glass in the window following the Slytherin gang's departure, heading off in search of the trolley and poor students to torment, not after what had been said regarding his family.
Thankfully Hermione had been able to fix the damage with a quick flick of her wand.
By the time they alighted from the train, calling out a cheerful greeting to Hagrid as they did so, the weather had taken a turn for the worse and it was a bit of a mad scramble to get to the carriages before they were all soaked to the skin. None of them envied the poor first years who were being herded towards the lake which currently looked like something out of a horror movie to Harry, the water churning unpleasantly, by the schools resident half-giant.
"Oooh," Hermione literally shuddered as the three of them climbed into the relative shelter of the carriage behind Neville. "I wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather."
It was another mad dash at the other end of the short journey, the four of them sprinting up the stone steps in order to get inside the grand building which served as their school without getting too wet in the torrential downpour. Unfortunately a run in with the schools most mischievous poltergeist left Ron completely soaked from head to toe anyway, Peeves delighting in causing chaos as he dropped enormous water balloons down on top of them.
Harry's shoes and socks suffered when one landed on the floor in front of him.
"Bloody hell…" Ron grumbled, shaking the water off of his hands after Professor McGonagall had arrived at the scene of the crime, her threat to fetch the Headmaster enough to send the poltergeist on his way but not before bed dropped the last of his water bombs on a group of second years who had just hurried in through the doors. "I hope he got Fleur…"
A quick glance towards the Slytherin table as they entered the Great Hall unfortunately proved otherwise, the glamorous fourteen year old checking her makeup on a compact mirror. It didn't look like she'd gotten wet at all, not even when she was outside in the rain.
"Typical…"
"Hiya, Harry!"
The excitable voice of Colin Creevey, a third year Gryffindor who had something of a crush on Harry, interrupted Ron before the dripping wet teen could even begin to truly complain about the unfairness of the situation. Despite being thirteen Colin was positively tiny, so small he could probably have passed for a first year had he wanted to. He clutched his old-fashioned magical camera to his chest, thankfully unused thus far, as he dropped do into the seat beside Harry, forcing Ron and Hermione to take the two empty places on his other side.
"Hi, Colin."
"Harry, guess what?" Colin gasped loudly, practically vibrating in his seat as he was overcome with excitement. Hermione offered him an indulgent smile, her fondness for the overexcitable founder of Harry's fan club well known. Ron merely grumbled about being cold and hungry. "Guess what, Harry? My brothers starting! My brother Dennis!"
"Er…good…"
Even as he smiled down at the now bouncing boy he couldn't help but share a slightly terrified look with Hermione. Colin he could handle, in small doses, but two of them?
"He's really excited!" Colin announced, loud enough for anyone sitting nearby them to hear. They were halfway down the long table and it was mostly the fourth and fifth years who had all adopted the same half-horrified look as Harry. In fact Colin was the only third year anywhere near them. "I just hope he's in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Harry?"
Harry promised he would. Siblings generally ended up in the same house, like the Weasley, but that wasn't set in stone. Parvati's twin sister, Padma, was in Ravenclaw and as Hermione had mumbled thoughtfully you'd expect identical twins, of all people, to end up together.
He couldn't decide if he want Colin's little brother to with the, or not, although that was rather selfish as it would be better for the younger boy to be in the same house as his brother. It would help him settle in and make friends, having someone familiar to go to.
All four house tables had filled up by the time the magical sky above them began to light up with beautiful streaks of lightening, mirroring the sky outside, and get there was still no sign of the first years. This was unusual but given the weather also completely understandable.
"Where's the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?"
Hermione's query drew all of their attention to the top table which had several more empty seats than usual, McGonagall and Hagrid predictably amongst the missing faculty members.
"Maybe they couldn't get anyone!"
His studious friend sounded so distraught over the idea of missing out on one of her precious classes that Harry couldn't help but snort, his eyes moving slowly along the varied faces of the faculty members. Most looked anxious, worrying for the new students travelling across the lake, but Snape as per usual wore a mask of indifference tinged with annoyance.
A sigh of relief escaped a large portion of the Great Halls occupants when the doors swing open to reveal Professor McGonagall leading a bedraggled gaggle of eleven year olds inside.
Colin's brother was easy to spot amongst the group, his face dominated by a beaming smile whilst all of the others looked understandably nervous. And cold, they all looked very, very cold. They were all soaked but none more so than Colin's brother who had been given what appeared to be Hagrid's coat to wear over his completely soaked uniform and black robes.
His eyes sought out his brothers beside Harry and he gave the older boy a thumbs up.
"I fell in the lake!"
He looked positively delighted about this fact so it was no surprise when a short while later the tiny boy was sorted into Gryffindor, sprinting to join his brother with an infectious laugh.
Given that they were all anxiously awaiting the arrival of the feast the sorting seemed to drag on and on, an endless stream of new students joining the houses they'd been given. As usual there was a pretty even spread between the houses although there were a few more Hufflepuff's than usual this year, the "unremarkable" house welcoming eight new students.
Harry didn't know why people ignored Hufflepuff or hoped that they wouldn't be sorted into the yellow house with almost as much fervour as they hoped not to be placed in Slytherin. All of the Hufflepuff's he knew were all hard-working and loyal almost to a fault. They got along with everyone, even some of the Slytherin's, and never seemed to listen to rumours.
Well, apart from that time when some of them believed Harry was the heir of Slytherin but to be honest they could be excused for thinking that as the evidence against him had been pretty damning for a while. But unlike everyone else the Hufflepuff's had at least apologised to him for believing the rumours, even Justin Finch-Fletchly who had been on the receiving end of the infamous snake incident. And they had a really good Quidditch team to boot.
No, Harry definitely didn't get why people didn't like Hufflepuff.
Eventually Dumbledore climbed to his feet, effortlessly silencing the entire room as he offered the gathered students a smile and spread his arms wide, his palms facing up.
"I have only two words to say to you – tuck in."
Harry and Ron fell upon the food like they hadn't eaten in days rather than the mere hours it had been whilst Hermione, as per usual, took a much more sedate pace and loaded up her plate only after careful consideration of what she wanted to eat. Harry loaded up his with anything that was within easy reaching distance. Ron didn't bother to load his plate at all.
In the end the meal which had been so long in coming passed by far too quickly with only one incident happening to disrupt them in their endeavour to fill their stomachs, that being when Nearly Headless Nick had brought up the fact that Hogwarts was home to the largest number of House Elves dwelling in Britain. Hermione had been utterly horrified, refusing to touch another bit of the delicious meal in a show of disgust for the careless treatment of the House Elves rights. She wouldn't listen to Ron or their house ghost when both of them tried to reassure her that most House Elves were more than happy with the way they lived, that the House Elves at Hogwarts were some of the best rested in Britain if not the world.
"Slave labour," she had announced, her voice thick with disgust as she pushed her almost full plate away from her, breathing heavily. "That's what made this dinner. Slave labour."
Harry had only met two House Elves in his life, Dobby and Winky, but he suspected that were there more like the former out there they would have had an uprising long before now. Poor Winky had been abused and Hermione was right about the fact that they should be protected in circumstances such as that, where their employers mistreat them or cause them harm, but if what Nearly Headless Nick said about the elves at Hogwarts was true, that they were all happy and enjoyed their lives, shouldn't they just be left alone to live them?
"So," Dumbledore announced as he rose to his feet, waving a single hand to clear away the empty plates and bowls from the various tables. "Now that you are all fed and watered 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 this…"
Harry was pretty sure he wasn't the only student who had stopped paying attention as soon as Mr Filch's name was mentioned. Given that the caretaker had had it out for him and his friends ever since their first day of school when he and Ron had gotten lost and ended up in an area which had been deemed "out of bounds" (a polite way for saying that there was a three-headed dog protecting the secret entrance to a series of tests which had been designed to protect one of the most powerful and rare magical gemstones on the planet) it was hardly surprising that with his continued efforts to make their lives a misery they had all settled into a mutual hate/hate relationship. Thus was it really any wonder that he had several much better things to do than listen to notices from the sadistic Argus Filch.
Like daydreaming about Cho Chang, for example…
He had been captivated by the Ravenclaw Seeker, the only girl on their team, since the first match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw the year before. Just seeing her pretty face and stunning smile made his stomach feel funny, like there was a giant butterfly trapped inside it. The thought of seeing her again had been one of the things get him through his time with the Dursley's before he had been spirited away to attend the World Cup with the Weasley's.
"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the inter-house Quidditch Cup will not take place this year," Dumbledore's apologetic voice dragged his thoughts back to the address being given, prompting him to react loudly along with his fellow pupils. No Quidditch? That…that was unimaginable… "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."
Huh.
Could this "event" be what everyone was avoiding speaking about for one reason or another? The Weasley's so as not to ruin the surprise, DeLacour to annoy their group?
"But I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely," Dumbledore continued, his tone reassuring as the students slowly calmed down from the state of uproar. Some students still looked almost murderous and Harry wasn't at all surprised to realise that most of them were the seventh year players for whom this would have been their last year playing Quidditch at the school. He felt for them. "I have great pleasure. Announcing that this year at Hogwarts – "
Whatever he had been about to say was interrupted by the enchanted sky above their heads going completely an utterly mental, thunder crashing, lightning flashing and real rain pouring down on top of the students who reacted loudly in fearful surprise, covering their heads even as a magical spell was shot up into the ceiling from the corner of the large room.
"Bloody hell…" Ron breathed out deeply in shock as the ceiling calmed down above them, the caster of the powerful spell slowly limping his way across to Professor Dumbledore. He was unlike anyone Harry had ever seen before; every inch of exposed skin seemed to be covered with a horrific patchwork of scars and one of his eyes seemed to be artificial, held into the socket by an old collection of leather straps and buckles. "It's Made-Eye Moody."
"Alastair Moody?" Hermione gasped, her eyes going wide. "The Auror?"
"Auror?" Dean Thomas, one of the few students in Harry's year and house who had been raised in an entirely muggle household like he had enquired, obviously as clueless about the title as Harry himself was. There was some debate about whether or not Dean's father, who had died when he was young, had been a wizard but nothing had ever been confirmed. The boy in question was more than happy to consider himself a muggleborn like Hermione, supporting his favourite football team vigorously and regularly becoming completely obsessed with muggle television shows and movies when he went home for the holidays.
"Dark-Wizard catcher," Ron answered before Hermione could launch into a more factual explanation, much to her annoyance. "Half the cells in Azkaban are filled thanks to him."
Harry was understandably impressed, his eyes going almost comically wide with admiration.
"He's supposed to be mad as a hatter, these days," Ron continued softly. "Dad says – "
"My dear old friend," Dumbledore's voice carried over to them. "Thanks for coming."
"Stupid ceiling."
Moody's voice was a rough as his appearance.
"What's that he's drinking, do you suppose?" Seamus, their Irish friend, supposed loudly as they all watched Moody take a long drink from a strange looking hip-flask. He was Dean's best friend and prone to mischief, almost as much as the Weasley twins although he was not nearly so inventive about it. He was also something of a snob and rather filthy minded.
"I don't know," Harry responded as Moody visibly shuddered after swallowing, his artificial eye spinning, dropping the flask into his jacket pocket. "But I don't think its pumpkin juice."
"May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," Dumbledore announced as the man in question limped over to the empty seat left for him. "Professor Moody."
They were going to be taught Defence by a dark-wizard catcher?
Harry got the feeling this was either going to be really good for them or really, really bad.
"Now, as I was saying we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the course of the coming months, an event which has not been held for over a century," Dumbledore continued, drawing their gazes away from Moody and over to where he stood positively beaming down at them, his eyes twinkling bright. "It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."
"You're joking!"
Fred's incredulous accusation broke through the stunned silence which had fallen following the declaration, causing nearly everyone to laugh softly. Even Dumbledore chuckled deeply.
Dumbledore seemed to lose track of himself for a moment, behave like the forgetful old man he appeared to be and going on about an excellent joke he'd heard regarding a troll, a hag and a leprechaun walking into a bar. They'd never get to hear the punchline as a Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly, breaking his unexpected train of thought.
"Perhaps another time…" he mumbled, offering the deputy headmistress an apologetic smile before focusing on the students gazing up at him once more. "Where was I? Ah, yes, the Triwizard Tournament…well, some of you might not know what this Tournament involves so I hope those of you who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation."
Harry wasn't the only one to twist around in his seat, getting himself into a more comfortable position as he prepared to listen to what would undoubtedly be an unfortunately long winded explanation of the tournament. Long winded but necessary.
"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the 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 was 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?"
Harry reached across to pat his friends hand reassuringly after hearing her gasp loudly in shock but he kept the majority of his attention on what Professor Dumbledore was saying.
"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the Tournament, none of which have been very successful," Dumbledore continued calmly. "However, our own Departments of International Magical Co-Operation and Magical Games and Sports have decided that the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that, this time no champion shall find himself or herself in mortal danger."
Most of the students seemed very excited by the prospect of the Tournament and Harry had to admit it did sound like it would a fun thing to witness. He couldn't imagine putting his name forward as champion, however, given that his life was already difficult enough as it was. What did he need with most exposure in the media and a dangerous contest to win?
No, he was support those who did put their names in but would keep himself well away.
"The Heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October 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."
An excited rumble of students announcing to their friends that they were going to put their names in filled the air for a long moment, Fred and George sharing a blatant high-five where they sat further along the Gryffindor table. Even the Slytherin's, normally so cool and composed, had been caught up in the excitement and were whispering back and forth. At the Ravenclaw table it was obvious that students were trying to justify why they would make the best Hogwarts Champion, using logic and facts, whilst Hufflepuff was rapidly descending into a mess of giggles and nudging as they put each other's names forward.
"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts the Heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year," Dumbledore interrupted the seemingly premature celebrations, silencing the premature celebrations. "Only students who are of age, that is to say seventeen years or older, will be allowed to put their names for consideration."
This time it was a rumble of outrage which spread like wildfire throughout the students.
"This 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," Dumbledore continued, fixing his gaze pointedly on the Weasley twins who had already begun discussing different ways they could still get their names entered. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under the age of seventeen."
Personally Harry thought that anyone who was under the age of seventeen and still wanted to put their name in for such a notoriously dangerous competition was clinically insane.
Hermione seemed to agree with him although Ron looked almost as put out as his brothers.
"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and will be remaining with us for the greater part of this year," Dumbledore continued calmly as though he hadn't just dashed so many students dreams of glory and riches. Some were visibly upset although most still looked angry. "I know that you will extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us and will give you're whole-hearted supported to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is for you all to be alert and rest as you enter your lessons tomorrow. Bedtime! Chop chop!"
The Triwizard Tournament was all anyone could talk about on the way back to their dormitories, packs of excited, frustrated, disappointed or just plain angry students hurrying along the corridors or up and down the changeable staircases. Unsurprisingly the twins were still determined to enter despite being underage and Ron was wholeheartedly encouraging them, his eyes glazed over with the thought of the prize money.
Hermione was disgusted by them, muttering about the death tolls which had been mentioned, whilst poor Neville had seemed utterly terrified by the prospect of entering.
Harry himself thought that, while he didn't particular fancy entering himself having spent too much time in the spotlight already being The-Boy-Who-Lived, he couldn't blame his friends for wanting to have a go. It was definitely going to be an interesting year…
Reclining against the headboard of his ridiculously large bed Draco couldn't help but wonder what he'd done to deserve friends like the ones currently surrounding him. He also couldn't decide whether or not he meant that to be a happy, relieved thought or an exasperate one.
Currently his one female friend, Ramona, was busy covering the walls and ceiling of his room with a mixture of brightly coloured drapes, magical posters and enchanted fairy lights. She hadn't asked permission to do so just as she wouldn't have asked permission to "sort out" her brother, Javier's, room or the room of the final member of their quartet, Claude.
"How come Draco gets fairy lights and I don't?" Claude pouted from where he was stretched out on the ridiculously soft rug in front of the roaring fireplace. He'd stripped down to just his undershirt and uniform trousers, kicking off his shoes, and was meant to be working on his History of Magic essay but had been doodling for nearly an hour already so obviously it wasn't going well. "Ramona? Am I not your favourite anymore? Am I so easily replaced?"
"You were never my favourite, Claude," Ramona snorted, to which he pretended to have been shot in the heart, gasping dramatically. Javier snorted, throwing a handful of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans at his boyfriend who proceeded to catch three of them in his mouth, celebrating accordingly. "And I would have given you fairy lights had you not ended up sharing a room with Gerard Argent, Mr by-the-book-so-serious-would-never-put-a-toe-out-line-and-will-stab-you-in-the-back himself. He'd have told Madame and you know it."
Technically speaking students were permitted to decorate their rooms but, as Ramona had been reminded on several occasions since her talent as an amateur interior designer had begun to blossom during their fourth year, there was a limit to what was actually allowed.
Draco smiled fondly before enquiringly of his female friend,
"Who've you ended up rooming with?"
Throughout their school lives pupils at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic slept not in crowded dormitories like most boarding schools but in reasonably large rooms with no more than three pupils per room. Each year the Head Boy and Head Girl were the only students given a private room of their own, complete with en suite bathroom, in their relevant house building. House Prefects, such as his friends, received no special treatment regarding their bedrooms although there was a Prefects bathroom in each of the three grand buildings.
"Josephine Villeneuve," Ramona answered, struggling with the French pronunciations a little bit given her naturally thick Spanish accent even when speaking English as was a requirement of the school. Every day the school spoke in a different language, supposedly to teach the students how to survive in a "multi-cultural magical world" despite the fact that translation spells were covered in their third year. "Which isn't so bad, all things considered. She doesn't mind what I do with my side of the room so long as it doesn't interfere with her filing system. I'm hoping to convince her to let me brighten her side up a bit, though…"
"Who are you with, Javi?" Claude enquired, munching happily on the sweets he'd been thrown having given up on completing his essay. "It better not be Fabian Houtman…"
"Careful, Claude," Draco snorted softly. "Your teenage jealousy is showing again…"
Javier and Fabian had been a "thing" before Javier and Claude has become a "thing" and so tensions continued to be a little bit strained between the hot-heated Frenchman and the handsome Dutchman despite the fact that said Dutchman was now dating Jacques Jordan.
"I'm not sharing with Fabian," Javier reassured his boyfriend with a fond roll of his eyes, pausing to throw a handful of sweets into his mouth, grimacing at the taste the mixture of unusual flavours had created. "I'm sharing with Jan, Jan Boerefijn not Jan Mattheson."
Claude grunted with approval.
Jan Boerefijn was very, very straight and something of a slut. He'd dated almost every girl in their year, Ramona included, and had slept with over half of them. Really, they should all hate him but he wasn't a horrible person, he didn't cheat on his girlfriends, his attentions never wandered from the person he was dating he just happened to date a lot. A lot a lot.
"There!" Ramona announced triumphantly, standing with her hands on her shapely hips as she surveyed the room. Unlike most of the girls in their year who were determined not to put on an ounce of weight if they could help it his friend had accepted the fact that her body wanted her to be "cuddly" like her mother was. She wasn't fat by any means, there was just more meat on her bones than the others girls they knew. "Done! Although if we all enter the Triwizard Tournament like Madame wants us to I shall have to take it all down in a couple of weeks and transfer it to whatever accommodation we end up in for the duration."
Madame Maxine had made it perfectly clear during the welcoming banquet that she expected every student who met the various requirements set down in the amended rules of the historical contest to put their name down for "consideration" by the end of the week.
All four of their group were eligible and more than capable of competing. Javier and Claude had already put their names down on the list, full of eagerness, and Ramona was planning to do so come the following morning. It was only Draco who had any serious reservations and although most of his peers assumed it was because of the well-known dangers involved in the contest (which had put off some students) it was actually because of the location;
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Draco's parents had never tried to hide their "past affiliations and indiscretions" from him, always willing to answer his questions openly and honestly from a young age although it had only been in the last few years that they had been willing to share absolutely everything with him. He understood shy they'd held a few things back; no young child should have to know that their parents had been forced to torture others or risk being tortured themselves, shouldn't have to learn of the "plan" which had been laid down for their life which had included joining the Dark Lords followers as a loyal puppet, shouldn't have to learn how twisted and evil their grandparents, their aunts and uncles, even their cousins truly were.
Thus he was well aware of the reputation the various branches of his family tree had back in England where the majority of the trouble had taken place. He knew what people said about the Malfoy family, that people assumed they'd fled so as not to face prosecution when in reality it was to escape the deadly clutches of both of their families and start a new life in peace. And, most importantly just then, he knew that his cousins who had no doubt been indoctrinated to follow in their parent's footsteps were currently attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Fleur, the eldest, was fourteen and Gabrielle, her sister, eleven.
"Draco?" Ramona called out softly, drawing him out of his thoughts. "Are you going to put your name down? Only I don't like the idea of us three going off and leaving you behind…"
Draco rolled his eyes towards her fondly, knowing full well that she wasn't implying that they'd miss him, rather that she was implying that he would need them and as much as it pained him to do so even just to himself she was probably right. As much as his parents had done their best to raise him to be good and honourable, something they had never been encouraged to be, he had still suffered from an alarming amount of jealousy and arrogance, particularly after he'd hit puberty. His mind had been conflicted, torn between the behaviour he'd been taught growing up and the unpleasantness growing within him but neither of his parents had been upset with him. When he'd gone to them, confused, they'd explained that unfortunately both jealousy and arrogance were traits of both their families.
Honestly, they'd reassured him, we're just glad those are the only traits you've inherited…
As reassuring as his parents words had been it had been his friends that had saved him, none of them afraid to correct him when he was in the wrong or point out when he was letting his "green side" as they referred to his jealousy get the better of him. They'd worked as a team, Claude, Javier and Ramona, to keep him from becoming his own worst enemy.
His arrogance, however, was still pretty strong but only when he had a reason to behave so.
"Just because you'll be in the same building as them doesn't mean you'll actually have to talk to them," Javier piped up, correctly pinpointing the thing holding him back. Of the four of them he was the most perceptive at reading other people, gauging their moods in no time at all and somehow always knowing what to say. Unfortunately the same could not be said about the rest of them so when Javier himself was the one upset or in a foul mood it took them a little longer to pinpoint the reason and find a solution. "Honestly, if they're as brainwashed as your parents think they are then they probably won't want to talk to you anyway. You're a blood traitor, remember? And anyway do you really want to spend our last year of school on separate continents, wasting what time we have left together like this?"
Draco snorted unattractively.
"Seriously, Javi?" he muttered, grinning despite his stern tone. "Emotional blackmail?"
Javier shrugged as best he could under the sudden onslaught of his boyfriend who had obviously grown tired of stretching out in front of the fire and had dropped down onto the bed alongside the trio, landing almost entirely on top of his boyfriend and snuggling his face into his neck with a content sigh. If there was one thing Claude loved to do it was snuggle and all three of them had been reduced to acting as his teddy bear on more than one occasion although since they'd begun dating he targeted his boyfriend almost exclusively.
"Sometimes a little emotional blackmail is called for," he eventually announced once Claude had stopped moving around, having found his desired comfortable position. "Especially when your friend is being a bit of an idiot and worrying about things that don't really matter. You're cousins are evil minions. We all know that. Don't let them ruin our last year."
"Just think of all the positive outcomes that could happen because of this," Ramona tacked on eagerly, leaning against Draco's side in such a way that he was forced to lean against Javier's free side turning his bed into one big snuggle fest. "You're the only one of us to have ever been to England and you don't even remember it. None of us have seen any magical school but our own. Plus one of us could be selected as the Beauxbatons champion…"
"What she said," Claude grunted in agreement, reaching out to rest his hand on Draco's chest beside Ramona's hand. "Although technically Hogwarts is in Scotland, not England."
"Seriously?" she grumbled, reaching out to flick the back of his neck. He flinched away from her, his hand shooting across to jab a finger into her side in retaliation which caused her to let out a sharp yelp. Ramona was very ticklish. "That's all you took from everything I said?"
"When arguing a case it is important to present the correct facts," Claude argued quickly, grabbing hold of her wrist when she tried to flick his ear. "Otherwise it puts the other facts you stated into question which, considering how true they were, would be a problem?"
"If I agree to go will you stop behaving like toddlers?" Draco enquired, unable to fight the smile blossoming on his face. If there was one thing his friends could always do it was make him smile, more often than not at the most inappropriate moments. "You've convinced me, I'll go. Now would you please stop elbowing my in the ribs and rubbing your breasts against me? They're very lovely breasts, don't get me wrong, but I am pretty comfortable with my homosexuality and as such would rather not have them rubbed all over my upper body…"
His words, both his agreement to put his name down and his statement about the "unwelcome touching" quickly reduced the four of them to a mess of giggles, chuckles and outright laughter as they rearranged themselves into a slightly more relaxed snuggle fest.
"Maybe we'll even find you a boyfriend at Hogwarts, Draco," Claude piped up after a moment, barely lifting his head from his own boyfriend's chest. "You need to get over…"
It was an unspoken rule that none of them referred to Draco's ex-boyfriend by name.
They'd been together for almost two years, ever since Draco had come out as gay, and he'd thought their relationship was only going to get stronger as they grew older. Apparently his ex-boyfriend hadn't felt the same way, being two years older than Draco, and had dumped him the day before he'd graduated from Beauxbatons not the previous year but the year before, publicly informing the younger teen that he "wanted to be free to see whoever he wanted as he pursued his chosen career path" and that he "didn't want to be tied to an underage wizard who couldn't contribute to his future plans." It had been humiliating…
To say that Draco had taken it badly was a bit of an understatement.
He'd spent the summer following their break-up, if it could be called that, grieving for his lost love and his lost pride and then had spent the next year of school with a wall around his heart. He didn't date. He didn't flirt. Claude, Javier and Ramona were the only ones allowed to get close to him and that was only because they wouldn't leave him alone. This past summer he'd finally begun to heal, flirting with a couple of boys he'd met when her and his parents had gone on holiday to New Zealand but he'd never let it go any further than that.
"I am over twat-face," Draco sighed deeply. "But that doesn't mean you can set me up with whoever you think would be good for me. If I find someone I want to date I'll handle it, ok?"
Claude grumbled softly, annoyed that he wouldn't be able to play matchmaker with his single friend…until he remembered that Ramona was as footloose and fancy free as Draco.
"Ramona…"
"Oh, no," she countered quickly, shaking her head vehemently. "No, no, no…"
Draco smirked to himself, holding back his chuckles so as to keep the attention away from him for the moment. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad spending a year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with his evil little cousins, so long as he had his friends with him.
He could survive anything so long as he had his friends.
A/N I was actually going to continue this chapter on a little bit longer but then I noticed a) how long it already was and b) how long it had been since I posted the 'Prologue' so here we go. I've actually been taking part in a writing challenge for the last month which is why I'm playing catch-up now with all my stories. Hope you enjoyed it. Comments welcome. X