Year Four: The Goblet of Fire
The three magical schools of Europe compete for eternal glory in the form of the Triwizard Tournament. Death Eaters are rising, gathering followers to join Voldemort. Dark times are approaching, threatening everything Marie loves. It's time for bravery. To be the light in terrible darkness...
Chapter Four-The Triwizard Tournament
The rain had transformed into a torrential downpour by the time the train reached Hogwarts. Students dashed from the station to the carriage to achieve temporary shelter, already drenched. Robes weighed down with water doubled with the slippery grounds, Marie was thankful that Marcus kept a firm grip on her arm as they rushed toward the castle, slipping one on the steps and he kept her suspended from completing the fall and bashing her chin on the stone. Bursting through the heavy doors and sliding to a stop in the entrance hall, the two paused to catch their breath with the other students.
There was a sudden series of shrieks as brightly colored water balloons began to land on unsuspecting heads.
"Peeves, get down here NOW!" barked Professor McGonagall, heels striking the ground sharply as she made her way over to the problem causing poltergeist.
"Not doing nothing!" he cackled, lobbing another balloon that splashed Marie perfectly on the head. Shoving her bangs away, the Slytherin wished the Bloody Baron was around to keep the trouble making ghost in line. Now sufficiently chilled and hair a frightful mess, Marcus tossed his arm over her shoulder and the two managed to slip into the Great Hall to avoid the rest of balloons Peeves held precariously in his arms.
"All right there?" asked Marcus, voice daring to shake from fighting the urge to laugh at her. Marie fought her own smirk at the tease, defiantly shoving her now heavy hair away from her face, giving up on appearances altogether.
"I'm doing just swimmingly, thank you," she returned, making him snort aloud at her water pun. Upon spotting the rest of her friends, the girl stopped when a bothering thought came to mind. She looked back up at the older student who seemed to notice her change in expression.
"Marcus, would you like to sit with us?" she offered. He saw the other fourth years stiffen uncomfortably at their friend's suggestion and sighed quietly.
"That's all right, I'm going to go sit with Montague," he covered, pointing out the other Quidditch player further down the table.
"Oh, okay then," said Marie, nodding in agreement. He gave her a half smile, appreciative of her kind gesture. She was aware of the fact that because he was repeating his final year, none of his former classmates were there to sit with him at meal times. Of course he could sit with the other boys from the House team, but there was still that failure hanging over his head that had yet to go away. So he dropped his arm from her shoulder and made his way to his other friend.
"Goodness, Marie, your hair!" gasped Pansy once the girl took her seat. Her cheeks pinkened under her friend's scrutiny.
"I know, I know. It's going to be terrible to brush later," she sighed. Pansy looked confused by her comment before shrugging her shoulders.
"Well, yes, there's that, but I meant look at the length of your hair! I'm positively jealous!" she explained, picking up a lock of hair and gently pulling it taunt for Millie to see the length. It was impressive, especially to Pansy who preferred short hair. The uncooperative hair covered her back, now passing her shoulder blades altogether. "That's it, I'm growing my hair out," Pansy decided.
The two other girls shared a laugh. "But Pansy you hated having long hair when you were younger," reminded Millie. She noted Marie's minor confusion. "Our families are friends so we've known each since before school."
She nodded, looking back to the short haired girl who was examining her own tresses with scrutiny. "Besides, you love your short hair! What did you call it? Fashion forward? Chic?" supplied Marie, guessing at the fashion term that was used. "Not to mention that you experiment with our hair often enough without having the down sides of long hair yourself."
"Like what, for instance?" demanded Pansy, sulk still obvious. Marie gave a laugh as she tugged her hair over her shoulder for her friend to look.
"Like trying to brush this out tonight without the help of magic, for one." Pursing her lips, she studied the mass of dark hair, curls and waves tangled within each other and bogged down with water from the storm. While she was envious of the length and volume of the hair, as of the moment it was an impending, dreadful chore. With a sniff of superiority, Pansy ran her fingers through her styled cut, content.
"You're right, short hair is much better," she agreed. Millie and Marie shared a friendly exasperated glance before turning their attention to the front of the Great Hall where the first years had gathered to await the Sorting.
She gave a sympathetic smile as she remembered her own fear that first day. Seeing the school and all its majesty for the first time, the overwhelming sensation of magic and the suspense while the Sorting Hat sat upon her head and declared her a Slytherin. While she had been terrified of her House placement, the weight was gone from her shoulders now. Remus knew of her status and there was no ill favor toward her for keeping the secret, for which she was thankful. For the first two years of her schooling, the thought of Remus rejecting her because she was a Slytherin hung over her head like a black cloud, darkening with each carefully worded story, white lie, and not quite truth. Marie vaguely noticed that the chair for the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was still empty, along with Professor McGonagall (who was dealing with Peeves) and Professor Hagrid (transporting the first years across the lake). She didn't give it too much concern, perhaps it was the terrible weather keeping the new teacher from making an appearance.
"Oh goodness," laughed Millie quietly. She pointed to the first years, where a little sandy haired boy was lagging behind the others due to the weight of the giant moleskin coat he was nearly consumed by. The poor first first years looked as if they had to swim across the lake, making the other students look mildly damp in comparison.
"Wonder what happened?" mused Marie, looking to her friends. "Do you think he fell in?"
"I wouldn't doubt it, the storm is just terrible. I'm honestly surprised they still had them come by boat," guessed Millie.
Professor McGonagall stepped up the front of the hall bearing the three legged stool and she placed the anciently frayed and patched wizard's hat upon the seat. Everyone focused the hat, the first years's apprehension nearly palpable. Then, the brim opened wide just like a mouth and it began to sing:
"A thousand years or more ago,
When I was nearly 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 favorites from the throng,
Yet how to pick the worthy ones
When they were 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 about your ears,
I've never yet been wrong,
I'll have a look inside your mind
And tell you were you belong!"
The hall broke out in applause as the hat went still once more. Professor McGonagall unrolled the parchment so to read off the names of the new students so that they may step forward and be sorted into their House. Marie's stomach growled loudly and she hoped the list would proceed promptly, she was starving.
"Ackerly, Stewart!" The poor boy was shaking so bad, she could even tell from the far side of the hall.
"Ravenclaw!"
Smiling to herself as she thought about the hat's song as the other first years were called forward, Marie found it terribly fascinating that the Sorting Hat belonged to the founder of Gryffindor. Though she was mildly miffed by Slytherin's description of being power-hungry. While it may have been true for the founder, Salazar Slytherin, the word choice made it out to be that all inn the Slytherin House were that way. Ambition didn't always mean greedy for power, it meant that they were driven and knew how to obtain their goal.
"Baddock, Malcolm!"
"Slytherin!" Marie clapped louder when her House was announced as the first year scrambled away from the hat to find their table.
"Branstone, Eleanor!" Hufflepuff.
"Cauldwell, Owen!" Hufflepuff.
"Creevey, Dennis!"
The Slytherin girl perked up at the familiar name, Creevey. Looking toward the Gryffindor table, she spotted the face of Colin Creevey who was now a third year. The last time she had properly encountered the boy had been back in second year. He had been the first student to be attacked by the Basilisk. She remembered the flash of his camera as he tried to capture a picture of the monster, a move that caused him to be Petrified and spared death. She had been so terrified, having felt the giant serpent's breath against her before the fateful sound of someone approaching their scene. After the creature vanished, she had managed to scramble back to her bed in the Hospital Wing. Her stomach churned at the memory, the sense of revulsion at herself for being unable to help the little first year.
"Gryffindor!" declared the Sorting hat. She smiled and clapped with the rest as Dennis ran to his brother. She had yet to speak to him since that incident as it was a brief instant. Just a pulse of events that they happened to witness and she had run away from him when he was Petrified. She was cowardly and frightened by the thought of being seen with him. It was alright that she hadn't seen or crossed paths with the Creevey boy. She hoped that he forgot that she was even there. It would be better that way.
The list continued on with the names, dwindling to a close to the hungry student's relief.
"McDonald, Natalie!"
This first year girl was a slight thing but with the way she walked, she gave off a spirit much larger than herself. She had brown hair that fell to her shoulders and her chin was held high as she made her way up to the stool, her shoulders set with determination. Gryffindor, guessed Marie, smiling to herself. The bravery was incredibly obvious, there wasn't a doubt in her mind. Professor McGonagall lowered the hat and the brim had scarcely touched her head when it called out her House.
"Gryffindor!" The red and gold table cheered and Marie clapped as well, happy to see the new students welcomed into their new home. The rest of the list was wrapped up neatly after the new Gryffindor.
"Pritchard, Graham!" Slytherin.
"Quirke, Orla!" Ravenclaw.
And finally, "Whitby, Kevin!" Hufflepuff.
Professor Dumbledore rose from his seat at the teacher's table while McGonagall put the stool and hat away for the year. He smiled around at the students, the fondness he held for the students of Hogwarts clearly showing. He opened his arms wide in welcoming them.
"I have only two words to say to you," he announced, voice reaching throughout the hall. "Tuck in."
There was cheering as the empty golden plates filled themselves with food. The long House tables became heavily ladened with pipping hot food, chilled drinks and a multitude of drinks. Just as thrilled as the other hungry students, Marie was more than happy to fill her plate with the steaming food, snagging a dinner roll as well as a nearby bowl of hot soup. Chatter filled the Great Hall easily, adding to the warmth that rallied against the enchanted ceiling that revealed the thunderstorm outside.
Slytherin gossip traveled up and down the table with its typical ease. Blaise Zabini's mother was widowed yet again, which Marie and Draco found vaguely alarming as they just saw the man at the World Cup. Pansy had spent a majority of the holiday in Paris, France and used every opportunity to use the words and phrases she had heard. This wouldn't have been of any notice but the girl's French accent was horrendous which made the translation painful to hear. Daphne Greengrass insisted that she and her younger sister Astoria were asked to model for Witch Weekly, to which Pansy discredited and a minor argument broke out. Thankfully the two were seated far enough apart that they couldn't reach each other.
Of course, the most obvious topic was of Marcus Flint and his status as a repeating seventh year. Marie looked down the table to see the older student eating quietly, vaguely nodding to whatever Montague was saying. She hated the lingering stares the other students gave him. Not just Slytherins, while they did stare they tended to know better, but the other Houses who openly looked at him as if he was just some dumb animal. Judging him. She heard the whispers of "troll" and "monster" and she knew for a fact that Marcus heard them due to his sensitive hearing. It was only the first day back but she could feel the looks when they were on the train and then when they walked in together. She couldn't stand and yet there was nothing for her to do to stop the entire student body from talking about it.
"Marie," called Pansy, snapping her fingers to gain her attention again. Marie flinched, unaware that she had checked out for the moment. Her friend gave a knowing look.
"You were staring."
"Sorry?"
She gave a subtle gesture toward Marcus who still kept his head tilted down, not talking. "You were staring at Flint."
"I-I was not!" Marie defended, a fierce blush coloring her. Pansy laughed heartily at her friend, only adding to her fluster. Thankfully, she was spared further embarrassment as Professor Dumbledore stood up once more, the food and plates clearing away of their own accord. Pointedly looking away from Pansy's smirk, Marie gave the Headmaster her full attention.
"So, now that we have all been fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices," he began. "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 Frisbee, 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 to check it." Marie could have sworn that the corners of his mouth twitched in humor before he continued.
"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."
"What?" gasped Marie, green eyes wide with surprise. The same question bounced throughout the hall. She looked down the table at the other members of the Slytherin House team. Derrick Bole caught her eye and shared his confused look and she could only raise her shoulders in response, just as lost as the rest. She leaned over to Draco. "They can't cancel Quidditch, can they?" Before he could answer, Dumbledore continued on.
"This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teacher's time and energy, but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts-"
Suddenly there a sharp bang as the doors to the Great Hall were thrown open, followed by a deafening bout of thunder. Most of the students visibly jumped, Marie for certain, everyone turning to get a look at who had made such an entrance. The man was dressed in a dark traveling cloak and was leaning upon a large staff. Every set of eyes were focused on the stranger as he lowered his hood to show long grey hair. He started to walk up toward the teacher's table when they could hear a dull clunk with every other step. His appearance was dreadfully sharpened when a particular fork of light flashed above the enchanted ceiling. His face was heavily scarred, so much that he didn't look entirely human. There was a chunk missing from his nose and he only had one regular eye while the other was large, irregularly round and electric blue. The blue eye seemed to have a will of its own as it swiveled about without pausing or blinking for that matter. The man reached Dumbledore and they shook hands, the man's was even as terribly scarred as his face. As he made his way to his seat, Dumbledore took the moment to introduce him to the school.
"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? Professor Moody."
Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, the renown Auror.
It was normal for new teachers to be greeted by some sort of applause but this time everyone was simply too stunned to clap as they watched him stab a sausage with his knife and then take a drink from a private hip flask. Professor Dumbledore and Hagrid managed a few claps that quieted quickly. Marie continued to study the new comer. The last time she had even been in the same place as Auror Moody was at Tess' funeral where he stood off to the side and kept watch on the reporter Rita Skeeter. Though she wasn't particularly aware of anything beside Tess, she would like to think she would at least remember him. He wasn't a face someone could forget.
He had been the one who trained Tess when she joined the Auror Office all those years ago, her mentor. Looking at him and seeing all the scars that over ran his skin, she couldn't help but wonder if that was the future Tess would have had if she lived. Body warped by spells, attacks and other kinds of mutilation to the point that she wouldn't even look human anymore. Marie was aware of the scars and injuries her guardian wore as a result of her work in the field. Once, when she was little, she had walked into Tess' room while she was getting ready for the day. Her back was to the young girl and she remembered being absolutely stunned by the state of her back and arms. Scars upon scars that twisted and raised tangled lines of irreparable white. The sight had frightened her so much that she had started to cry, thinking that her caretaker was hurting. Tess had been startled by the young Marie, unaware of her presence in the room. She consoled the young girl, quieting her down and reassuring her that they were old scars and didn't hurt any more. Though Marie could never quite tell when Tess was lying about her physical health.
Once upon a time, Alastor Moody had been young like Tess and able to cover injuries to avoid question, and now, with the entire school staring openly, the scars were what defined him and demanded attention. She couldn't but wonder as she once did: The scars, did they hurt?
Dumbledore cleared his throat.
"As I was saying, we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been properly held in over a century. After the most recent trial which resulted in a victory for our school and thus, it is my pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."
The first reaction came from Fred Weasley at the Gryffindor table. "You're JOKING!"
That seemed to shatter the tension the Moody's arrival had caused, nearly everyone laughed at the outburst, finally being able to breathe.
Dumbledore chuckled as well. "I am not joking, Mr. Weasley, 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 pointedly at this time. "But maybe this is not the time...no...where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament...well, some of you will not what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation and allow their minds 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 to host the tournament 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? Marie looked about her table but appeared to be the only one openly concerned about the risk of death.
"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament, none of which have been very successful, although the last attempt in 1975 was especially promising. Emboldened by the last try at the tournament, our own Department of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided to the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find hi,self 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 on Hallowe'en. 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."
The whispers broke out among the students at the sound of the a thousand Galleons. Marie could hear others whispering to their friends, already eager to put their name in and win the prize. She kept her mouth a firm line as she waited for the Headmaster to finish, her brows lowered in concern.
"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 or older-will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This-" Dumbledore had to raise his hand to quiet the rising commotion, students upset by the high age cut off, "-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. 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!" On that note, Dumbledore sat down again and began to converse with Professor Moody.
The Great Hall murmured with the sounds of students getting up from their table and heading toward their dormitories, every person discussing the tournament. Draco appeared on Marie's right side, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"I can't believe they insisted on an age restriction," grumbled the blonde. "They're only limiting their pool of possible champions, having to choose from who is of age rather than their ability."
Marie shook her head. "I think it's a great idea-" she held up her hand to quiet her friend's protest, "-because they're worried about safety. You heard him, a rising death toll over the years this tournament's been around. I, for one, think it's an excellent idea. Could you imagine if someone our age was declared champion?"
Draco caved and shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, I suppose that would be ridiculous."
REVIEW! So sorry for taking forever, especially after I was able to finish up the last of PoA in such a timely fashion. I hope this lengthy chapter makes up for my absence! I know that once again this is information we are aware of, but we need to introduce it to the characters, the poor dears.
Little bits of this and that going on, some fun little pieces to fluff out the information parts.
Your thoughts would be love as always! Next time: Mad-Eye Moody and the Amazing Bouncing Ferret!
PS: As a little side fact, I especially wanted to do this year's Sorting as it involved Natalie McDonald, a name JKR was sure to incorporate into the GoF and I wanted to do my piece too by giving her a little descriptive paragraph. The link is below (without the spaces) so please check out the sweet heart tidbit of information
: / / nowiknow worthy-of-gryffindor/
Enjoy!