The Triwizard Tournament

Lightning flashed across the sky as the carriages came to a halt before the great oak doors. People who had arrived before them were already hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. John, Sherlock, Cas and Dean jumped out of the carriage and dashed up the steps too, looking up only when they were safely inside the torch-lit Entrance Hall.

'Hey!' John objected, as Sherlock shook the water out of his hair and it hit John in the face.

'Sorry.'

'I'm already soak-' He gasped as a large red water balloon dropped from the ceiling onto his head and exploded. Drenched and spluttering, John staggered sideways into Sherlock, lurching himout of the way of a second water balloon.

Sherlock bit his lip, but couldn't fully contain his snigger at John with his hair plastered to his face.

'Oh, very funny,' John grumbled.

Everyone around them began shoving each other to get out of the line of fire. Above the, Peeves the poltergeist took aim, his wide face contorted in concentration.

'PEEVES!' yelled an angry voice. 'Peeves, come down here at ONCE!'

Professor McGonagall had come dashing out of the Great Hall

'Not doing nothing!' Peeves cackled, throwing another balloon at some fifth-year girls. 'Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts!' He aimed another balloon at some second-years who had just arrived.

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

Peeves stuck out his tongue, threw the rest of the balloons into the air, and zoomed off up the marble staircase.

'Well, move along, then!' Professor McGonagall said sharply. 'Into the Great Hall, come on!'

They all slipped and slid across the Entrance Hall and through the double doors.

The Great Hall was its usual splendid self, with golden plates and goblets set out along the four house tables and the staff table, and hundreds of floating candles lit the room.

This was one of the few occasions of the year that everyone was required to sit at their house tables, so they left Sherlock and Castiel at the Ravenclaw table, then carried on to the Gryffindor table.

'Good evening,' said Nearly-Headless Nick as they sat down around him.

'Says who?' Harry said grumpily, taking off his shoes and emptying them of water. 'Hope they hurry up with the Sorting, I'm starving.'

Just then, a highly excited, breathless voice called down the table, 'Hiya, Harry!' It was Colin Creevey.

'Hi, Colin,' Harry said wearily.

'Harry, guess what? Guess what, Harry? My brother's starting! My brother Dennis!'

'Er – good' said Harry.

'He's really excited!' said Colin, bouncing up and down in his seat. 'I just hope he's in Gryffindor! Brothers and sisters usually go in the same house right?'

'Not necessarily,' said Hermione. 'Look at Castiel. None of his siblings have been in the same house. And Parvati Patil's twin is in Ravenclaw.'

'Wow,' said Colin. 'Fingers crossed then, eh, Harry?'

'Er – yeah, all right.'

'Where's the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?' said John, looking up at the staff table.

'Maybe they couldn't get anyone,' Hermione said anxiously.

John caught Sherlock's eye at the Ravenclaw table, who shrugged.

'Oh, hurry up,' Ron groaned. 'I could eat a Hippogriff.'

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the doors of the Great Hall opened again, and silence fell. Professor McGonagall lead a long line of first-years up to the top of the hall, so wet they appeared to have swum across the lake rather than sailed it. All of them were shivering with a combination of cold and nerves as they filed along the staff table and came to a halt in a line facing the rest of the school- all of them but the smallest of the lot, a boy with mousey hair, who was wrapped in Hagrid's moleskin overcoat. His small face protruded from over the collar, looking painfully excited. When he had lined up with his terrified-looking peers, he caught Colin Creevey's eye, gave a double thumbs up and mouthed, 'I fell in the lake!' He looked positively delighted about it.

Professor McGonagall then placed a three-legged stool on the ground and the Sorting Hat on top of it. For a moment, there was silence. Then a tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the Sorting 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 power-hungry 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?

'Twas 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 you where you belong!'

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

'That's not the song it sang when it sorted us,' said Harry, clapping along with everyone else.

'It sings a different one every year,' John told him, remembering that Harry had missed the last two Sorting Ceremonies.

'It's got to be a pretty boring life, hasn't it, being a hat?' said Ron. 'I suppose it spends all year making up the next one.'

Professor McGonagall then unrolled a large roll 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.

'Ackerly, Stewart!'

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

'Ravenclaw!' shouted the Hat.

Stewart Ackerly took off the Hat and hurried into a seat at the Ravenclaw table, where everyone was applauding him. John caught a glimpse of Sherlock clapping lazily and fleetingly felt the urge to join the Ravenclaw table too.

'Baddock, Malcolm!'

'Slytherin!'

'Branston, Eleanor!'

'Hufflepuff!'

'Cauldwell, Owen!'

'Hufflepuff!'

'Creevey, Dennis!'

Tiny Dennis Creevey staggered forward, tripping over Hagrid's moleskin, just as Hagrid himself sidled into the Hall through a door behind the teachers' table. He winked at them as he sat down, and watched Dennis Creevey putting the Sorting Hat on. 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 school, and hurried over to his brother.

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

'Cool!' said Colin, equally as excited. '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 by a giant sea-monster.

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 dwindled slowly as Professor McGonagall passed the 'L's.

'Oh, hurry up,' Ron groaned, massaging his stomach.

'Now, Ron, the Sorting's much more important than food,' said Nearly-Headless Nick.

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

'I do hope this year's batch of Gryffindors are up to scratch,' Nick said, applauding as 'McDonald, Natalie!' joined the Gryffindor table. 'We don't want to break our winning streak, do we?'

'Pritchard, Graham!'

'Slytherin!'

'Quirke, Orla!'

'Ravenclaw!'

'Whitby, Kevin!'

'Hufflepuff!'

At last, Sam was the only one left.

'Winchester, Samuel!'

'Woo! Sam!' Dean cheered, to many sniggers around him.

'Thank you, Mr Winchester,' Professor McGonagall said warningly.

Sam put on the Hat and sat on the stool. There was a moment delay, then-

'Hufflepuff!'

The Hufflepuff table cheered, as did Dean, and Sam sat down next to Gabriel, grinning widely.

'About time,' said Ron, seizing his knife and fork, and looking down at his plate expectantly.

Professor Dumbledore got to his feet, arms open wide in welcome. 'I have only two words to say to you,' he told them. 'Tuck in.'

Then all the empty dishes filled magically before their eyes.

Nearly-Headless Nick watched mournfully as they loaded their plates.

'Aaah, 'at's be'er,' said Ron, with his mouth full of mashed potatoes.

'You're lucky there's a feast at all tonight, you know,' Nick told them. 'There was trouble in the kitchens earlier.'

'Why? Wha' 'appened?' Harry asked, through a sizeable chunk of steak.

'Peeves, of course,' said Nick, shaking his head, which wobbled dangerously. '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 uncivilised. Can't see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghost's council – the Fat Friar was all for giving him a chance – but, most wisely in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down.'

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

'Oh, the usual,' Nick shrugged. 'Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup. Terrified the house-elves out of their wits-'

Clang. Hermione had knocked over her goblet and pumpkin juice spread steadily over the tablecloth, but Hermione paid no attention. 'There are house-elves here?' she said, horror-struck. 'Here at Hogwarts?'

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

'I've never seen one!'

'Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they?' said Nick. 'They come out at night to do a bit of cleaning, see to the fire 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 by 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. 'House-elves don't want sick leaves and pensions!'

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

'Oh, c'mon, 'Er-my-knee,' said Ron, accidentally spraying Harry with bits of Yorkshire pudding. 'Oops – sorry, 'Arry-' He swallowed. 'You won't get them sick leave by starving yourself.'

'Slave labour,' said Hermione. 'That's what made this dinner. Slave labour.' And she refused to eat another bite.

John momentarily felt conflicted about his own food, but the smell of roast chicken was too much for him to resist.

The storm continued to rage outside and the remains of the first course were replaced with dessert. Ron wafted the scent towards Hermione to try and tempt her, but to no avail. Dean wasted no time digging into a hearty apple pie.

When the desserts, too, had been demolished, Dumbledore got to his feet. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost immediately.

'So!' said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. 'Now that we 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 now forbidden in the castle, has this year been expanded to include Screaming Yo-Yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises of some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr Filch's office, if anyone would like to check it.' The corners of his mouth twitched, then he continued. 'As ever, I would like to remind you all that the Forest in the grounds is out of bounds to all students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third-year.'

John fidgeted guiltily, though he was sure that Dumbledore wouldn't truly mind his own ventures into the Forest.

'It is also my painful duty to inform you that the inter-house Quidditch Cup will not take place this year.'

'What?' Harry gasped.

Fred and George were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak.

'This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy,' Dumbledore continued. 'But I am sure you will 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 on a long staff, shrouded in a black travelling cloak. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark grey hair, then began to walk up to the teachers' table.

A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the table and limped heavily towards Dumbledore. A flash of lightning crossed the ceiling and John cringed.

The lightning had illuminated the man's face. It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces were supposed to look like. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of nose was missing. But it was the man's that made him frightening.

One of them was small, dark and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking. It rolled up, down and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye – then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of his head.

John looked nervously over at Sherlock, unable to tell if his unease was simply caused by the man's appearance, or something more. Sherlock furrowed his brow thoughtfully and stared at the man.

The stranger sat down in the empty seat beside Dumbledore.

'May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher,' Dumbledore said brightly. 'Professor Moody.'

'Moody?' Harry muttered to Ron. 'Mad-Eye Moody? The one your dad went to help this morning?'

'What gave it away, his mad eye?' Dean said sarcastically.

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

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

Moody seemed totally indifferent to the less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached into his travelling cloak, pulled out a hip-flask, and took a long draught from it. John suddenly got a strong taste of leather and cabbage in his mouth, which he tried to wash away with a swallow of pumpkin juice.

Dumbledore cleared his throat again. 'As I was saying,' he said, 'we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event which 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!' Fred Weasley said 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 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… where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament… well, some of you will not know what this Tournament involves, so I hope that those who do 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 turns in hosting 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.'

John all of a sudden felt quite dizzy. He swayed and his vision flickered. 'No, not now,' he muttered, tightly clutching the table in an attempt to keep himself focused on the Great Hall.

At the Ravenclaw table, Sherlock squirmed uncomfortably, having to resist the urge to climb over the tables to get to John.

'What is it?' Cas whispered.

Sherlock nodded over at John, who was sitting stiffly with his jaw clenched.

'Now?'

'Unfortunately.'

'Isn't this what your link is for?'

'Yes, but it doesn't currently seem to be working.'

'What do you mean not working?'

'I really think that's a discussion for another time,' Sherlock snapped.

Castiel frowned. 'All right, you can deal with it all on your own,' he said, irritated.

Meanwhile, John was focusing so much on trying to appear normal that he was paying no attention to his vision at all. All he could see was another version of the Great Hall, only darker. There were many faces around, and they all seemed completely shocked. He jerked away and flashed back to the current Great Hall, and shielded his eyes from the sudden brightness. He jumped as a hand touched his shoulder. 'Hermione,' he murmured.

'Are you all right?' she asked.

'Yeah. Fine,' he said, though he felt a painful pressure in his temples. He sought out Sherlock's concerned eyes and gave him a feeble thumbs up.

'The Heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders,' said Dumbledore, John wincing at the sudden loudness of Dumbledore's voice, 'and the selection of the champions will take place at Hallowe'en. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, and a thousand Galleons prize money.'

'I'm going for it!' Fred hissed down the table.

The Hall buzzed with chatter, and John thought his head might actually explode, until Dumbledore spoke again and it died down.

'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. Only students who are of age – that is to say, seventeen years or older – will be allowed to put their names forward for consideration. This-' Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were looking furious. '-is a measure we feel is necessary, given that no underage student below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I personally will be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion. I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen.

'When the delegates from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang arrive, they will be with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when they are 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 Moody. There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet, and swarmed towards the doors to the Entrance Hall.

John got to his feet, his head swam and nausea rose in his throat. He put a hand down on the table and leant on it for a moment. Sherlock was soon at his side.

'What did you see?' he asked.

'Nothing, since I was trying very hard not to.'

'Why would you do that?'

'I don't really fancy having an episode in front of the whole school, thanks.'

They followed Harry, Ron, Hermione and the twins out of the Great Hall, listening to Fred and George planning their Ageing Potion, in order to enter the Tournament.

By the time they reached the silver swan portrait, John's headache had advanced to splitting. They paused by the portrait.

'At least now we know what happens if you ignore them,' said Sherlock.

'You know, funnily enough, that doesn't actually make me feel better, Sherlock.'

'I have to stay in Ravenclaw Tower tonight. Will you be all right?'

'Yeah, 'course I will. Just need a bit of sleep, I think.'

'Goodnight, then.'

'Yeah, 'night.'

John left him and hurried after the other Gryffindors, reaching them just as they opened the portrait hole. A crackling fire was warming the common room. Hermione cast the merrily dancing flames a dark look, and muttered 'Slave labour,' before bidding the rest of them goodnight and climbing the stairs to the girls' dormitory.

John went up to the boys' dormitory with Harry, Ron and Neville. Dean Thomas and Seamus were already up there, getting into bed.

Once in his pyjamas and in bed, John drew the curtains around his four-poster bed. It was very comfortable, lying in bed, listening to the storm raging outside.

'I might go in for it, you know,' Ron said sleepily through the darkness, 'if Fred and George find out how to… the Tournament… you never know, do you?'

'S'pose not,' Harry mumbled.

John rolled over and briefly imagined himself as Hogwarts champion. 'I don't reckon I'd be allowed to enter even if I was of age,' he said. 'Seer powers and all, they might count it as cheating.'

'Yeah, true,' said Ron.

'Not that I'd be any good anyway,' John said, pushing the thought away. It would all be too much fuss anyway.

Welcome back everyone! Thanks to DaughterofMagic3, Guest, WizardingWhovian, Sherlock Harry Winchester, wildtrance and Guest for the awesome reviews. I hope you all enjoy it and I'll see you next time!