I hope you liked the last chapter. Now we are in present day, AKA September 1st, sixth year for the twins and Cairo, and you know what that means! And if you don't, just read and you'll figure it out!

Disclaimer: I am not the almighty J K Rowling. Otherwise I would be from England and would not be asian.

~Amaya~

Cairo's POV

George yawned and leaned back in his seat in our compartment as the train chugged towards Hogwarts. I glanced up at him lamentably. I could tell by his smug grin that he knew exactly what I was praying he didn't.

And what horrible blackmail it would potentially become.

Fred never noticed anything. Not for lack of trying, of course, but he wasn't exactly the 'think-before-he-acts' type. For that, I'm glad. Otherwise he'd surely notice my prominent blush whenever he came within close proximity.

But George, unfortunately, was the quieter, more thoughtful twin and had noticed. I had to applaud him; it hadn't been very noticeable at first.

". . . That sound good, Cai?" Fred had just finished explaining some new edition to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes to me. Unfortunately, I had been so lost in my temporary hatred for George that I had tuned him out.

"Uh, sure, sure," I replied, hoping that I sounded sincere. Fred let out a snort of laughter, telling me I had said the wrong thing. "I mean, um, no?" I tried. George joined in his laughter. Their contagious laughter soon got to me too and the three of us were a laughing wreck.

"I knew you weren't listening," Fred spluttered through his laughter, "so I asked you if it - as in nothing - sounded good! You took the bait, as intended!"

"What's that muggle saying?" George asked. "Oh right - Hook, line, and sinker!" We all started laughing all over again. I love these two! They truly are my very best friends.

"Fine, you got me!" I grinned, still chuckling a bit. "I'm sorry for zoning out on you, Fred."

"It's fine. But, new topic," Fred's eyes glinted with mischief as he continued, "what about the Quidditch World Cup? Wasn't that crazy?"

"In a scary way. I mean, learning about Death Eaters and the Dark Mark and-" I shivered "- You-Know-Who. I'm freaked out! Can we talk about the mysterious exciting thing at Hogwarts this year instead?"

"Yeah! Why won't anyone spill the beans?" George moaned. "The suspense is killing me! Any theories, Cairo?"

"A couple," I admitted. "I've been reading up on exciting wizard events with Hermione and we found a few big ones." I caught the twins exchanging glances. They knew how Hermione and I loved our books. We had so much in common, both being the smartest in our years, and had become good friends, so often we helped each other study. This time was no exception.

Before I could express my opinions, however, we found the Hogwarts Express slowing to a halt at the Hogsmeade Station.

George POV

Poor Fred.

Some might argue that I should say poor Cairo instead, but I think it's sadder that Fred hasn't realised Cairo's dilemma. She's being pretty obvious about it.

Blushing whenever he's around her, drifting off during their conversations, no doubt daydreaming about him, stumbling over her words and actions . . . Her infatuation over him was obvious and yet my twin didn't think twice. Ergo, poor Fred.

I didn't have much time to pity though, as we were almost to the school. Fred and Cairo were in deep conversation about the Quidditch World Cup, Cairo clearly expressing her fear on the topic, while Fred continued to torture her with it. It's like he doesn't even think how his words are paining Cairo right now. Or maybe he does, and just chooses to continue. Either way, there's one thing I know; when we aren't thinking, both Fred and I can be big time gits.

By the time we were seated in the Great Hall and almost finished eating, Cairo had burst into tears. I knew it would eventually happen; Cairo was one sensitive girl. Fred looked extremely embarrassed and guilty now, as he tried to comfort our friend.

"Cai, I didn't- You should've told me- I'm sorry!" Fred spluttered, his face growing as red as our hair.

"Very smooth," I muttered to my twin, before putting a hand on Cairo's shoulder. "It's okay, Cai. Fred was just being a git." This earned a glare from Fred, which I ignored. "Hush now, Dumbledore is about to speak."

"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at us 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 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."

Cairo, Fred and I were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, too appalled to speak, being members of the Quidditch team ourselves. 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 -"

He was interrupted by the doors to the Great Hall being thrown open. Everyone's heads turned, intrigued by the sudden and mysterious newcomer. I glanced at Fred, looking extremely interested, and Cairo, looking slightly more fearful. I couldn't blame her.

As lightning flashed across the ceiling, illuminating the hall, I could just see the stranger's long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair. He wasn't close enough for me to make out his face yet, but as he marched towards the teachers' table, there was another lightning strike and I gasped in fear.

Every inch of his skin seemed to be scarred. His mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of his nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes 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, 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 I could see was whiteness.

I almost shivered, but not wanted to look like a wimp while Fred just looked amused, I held back all anxieties. "May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody." No one except Dumbledore and Hagrid clapped for Moody.

"So that's Mad-Eye Moody, eh?" Cairo let out a low whistle. "Obviously a heartthrob back home." It took all my energy to suppress my laughter at her comment.

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 traveling 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 I saw, below the table, several inches of carved wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot. Moody was definitely interesting, to say the least.

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 honor 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!" Fred exclaimed 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."

"Wicked," Fred and I whispered. We had a weird habit of thinking the same thoughts and speaking in unison. Cairo seemed very concerned about the 'death toll' part, and was in a low conversation with Hermione about it.

"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."

My mind wandered to everything we could accomplish with all that money. We could turn Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes into a true shop. We could experiment and make more products. We could help our family's financial issues . . .

Fred had just started rambling to Cai about what he would do with the prize money, 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 Fred and I yelled, 'That's rubbish!' - "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 my mutinous faces. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen.

"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. I stood, but didn't leave with the swarm of other students. Glaring at Dumbledore, I said, "They can't do that! We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a shot?"

"They're not stopping me entering," said Fred stubbornly, also scowling at the top table. "The champions'll 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," said Hermione, "we'll be the only ones left here if you don't move."

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Cairo, Fred and I set off for the entrance hall, Fred and I debating the ways in which Dumbledore might stop those who were under seventeen from entering the tournament.

After awhile of arguing with the fourth years, I noticed that Cairo was being very quiet. "I know what you're thinking, Cai," I whispered. "But come on, wouldn't it be fun? And think of the money!"

"No! I don't want either of you dead in the morning . . ." She trailed off, staring at Fred, who was a few paces ahead of us. I decided upon not pushing the topic any further.

We made our way up to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, which was concealed behind a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress. "Password?" she asked as we approached.

"Balderdash," I said, "a prefect downstairs told me." The portrait swung forward to reveal a hole in the wall which we all climbed through, into the Gryffindor common room.