Author's Note: Do you ever read something back and kick yourself for all the easily avoidable spelling and grammar errors?
Dumbledore continued his speech after a brief pause for dramatic effect.
"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," he said. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home."
Dumbledore sat down. The dishes filled with food as usual. There was a variety of dishes that Harry had never seen before. He heard one of the Delphi boys, the one with the dark hair - who quite a few Gryffindors were staring at with either lust or jealousy - complain: "I don't know what half this stuff is."
The blonde girl next to him began to rattle off names of the foods that Harry assumed everybody knew, like Yorkshire puddings and assorted pies.
One of them she didn't know, and the beautiful girl with the cinnamon colour skin blurted out something that sounded french.
"Woah, Pipes. How d'you know that?" Asked the boy next to her, also blond.
"It's a French food, of course she knows it," the dark haired boy said.
"That and I've been to Paris." said 'Pipes'.
"Oh right!" said the blonde girl. "I remember that movie."
Harry shook his head and returned to his friends. Ron was also confused by some of the foods and Hermione told him. She too had been to France.
After twenty minutes, Hagrid entered. He slid into his seat at the front as quickly and quietly as he could.
"Skrewts doing all right, Hagrid?" Harry called.
"Thrivin'," Hagrid called back, happily.
"Yeah, I'll just bet they are," said Ron quietly. "Looks like they've finally found a food they like, doesn't it? Hagrid's fingers."
At that moment, a voice said, "Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?" It was the girl from Beauxbatons who had laughed during Dumbledore's speech. She had finally removed her muffler. A long sheet of silvery-blonde hair fell almost to her waist. She had large, deep blue eyes, and very white, even teeth.
Ron went purple. He stared up at her, opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out except a faint gurgling noise.
"Yeah, have it," said Harry, pushing the dish toward the girl.
"You 'ave finished wiz it?"
"Yeah," Ron said breathlessly. "Yeah, it was excellent."
The girl picked up the dish and carried it carefully off to the Ravenclaw table. Ron was still goggling at the girl as though he had never seen one before. Harry started to laugh. The sound seemed to jog Ron back to his senses.
"She's a veela!" he said hoarsely to Harry.
"Of course she isn't!" said Hermione tartly. "I don't see anyone else gaping at her like an idiot!"
But she wasn't entirely right about that. Yes, it was true that most of the Gryffindor boys weren't gaping at her, but the Ravenclaws' were. The Gryffindor and Hufflepuff boys (and a few girls) were mostly staring - or stealing glances - at the Delphi girls.
"That's cause they're all looking at the Delphi girls!" Ron defended, voicing Harry's thoughts exactly. "And I can't blame them. Bloody Hell, they look like gods or something!"
"Don't be ridiculous, Ron." Hermione rolled her eyes.
"I'm telling you, they're not normal girls!" He kept glancing at the Beauxbatons girl and up the table towards the two from Delphi. "They don't make them like that at Hogwarts!"
"They make them okay at Hogwarts," Harry said without thinking. Cho was sitting a few places down from the Beauxbatons girl.
"When you've both put your eyes back in," Hermione said, briskly, "you'll be able to see who's just arrived."
Ludo Bagman and Mr. Crouch were sitting in the previously empty chairs.
"What are they doing here?" said Harry in surprise.
Hermione looked at him like he was dense, "They organized the Triwizard Tournament, didn't they? I suppose they wanted to see it start."
"Excuse me," came an American, distinctly male, voice. It was the boy from Delphi, the blond one. "Do you know who those two men are?"
Hermione nodded, "The one on the right is Ludo Bagman, Head of Magical Games and Sports-"
"The what now?" the boy asked, eyes wide in confusion.
"-The other one," Hermione continued, "is Barty Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation."
The boy nodded like he understood and thanked Hermione, but Harry saw as he repeated only the names of Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch.
Ron spent the rest of the meal arranging French desserts so as they were in the Beauxbatons girl's line of sight and easy for her to access.
She did not return.
He then turned his sights on the Delphi girls only a meter up the table, with Hermione shaking her head, muttering "Boys!"
Harry had to admit, there was no way they were normal humans. The boys' jawlines and perfectly sculpted faces and bodies looked like the craft of gods; you could practically see the well-toned biceps through the sleeves of their robes. The blond's hair was well groomed, yet a little windswept. The other boy's black hair resembled Harry's own; misbehaving and all over the place. The only difference was that this boy's hair all went in the same direction more or less, as if he'd come from the beach. They both looked very intimidating.
Speaking of intimidating, when it came to the girls… Harry was speechless. The blonde had dazzling hair that fell in natural curls, gleaming golden in the light. Her body was that of a supermodel: slim yet undeniably fit, like a runner's (Well, she does run a lot… however, it is away from things.). She had a perfect tan that most would envy. Her eyes threw off the whole vibe though: they weren't blue as you'd expect, but grey and menacing, like the clouds before a storm, churning, preparing to release lightning, thunder, and torrential rain. Harry did not want to be on the receiving end of a glare from her.
The other, 'Pipes' as her friends had called her, was strangely familiar looking. Her cinnamon coloured skin struck something deep in Harry's memory. Her eyes were the complete opposite of the blonde's: somehow, they continuously changed colour, as if they couldn't decide what to be, but it only added to her beauty. She'd clearly cut her hair herself, but she made it work. A blue feather was braided into it. But Harry still couldn't shake the feeling of having seen her before. He turned to Hermione, "Does that girl, the one with the feather, does she look familiar to you?"
"You see it too?" Hermione responded.
"I feel like I've seen her before."
"Seen who before?" Ron interrupted. "I've never seen any of them before in my life. I think I'd remember if I had."
Once the golden plates were devoid of all food, Dumbledore stood up again. The hum of conversation died down right away, the excitement of the crowd building. Just down the table from Harry, Fred and George were leaning forward, eyes fixed on Dumbledore.
"The moment has come," said Dumbledore, ever the dramatic. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to explain several things before we bring in the casket-"
Harry heard the blond Delphi boy whisper, "I don't like the sound of that."
"- the procedure that we will be following this year." Dumbledore continued. "But first let me introduce, for those who do not know them -" Harry watched Dumbledore's eyes wander in the direction of the Delphi students. "- Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation-" cue the polite applause, "- and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."
Much louder applause rang out for Mr. Bagman. Whether it was because of his fame as a Beater or much more approachable appearance, Harry didn't know.
Dumbledore continued on, saying how Crouch and Bagman would be part of the judging panel with himself, Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, and professor Brunner.
At last, Dumbledore said, "The casket, then, if you please, Mr Filch."
Filch, who'd been standing off in the far corner of the Hall, approached Dumbledore, carrying a what looked like a bedazzled wooden chest. A very old, bedazzled wooden chest.
Filch placed the chest down on the table before him as Dumbledore continued to speak, "The instructions for the tasks the champions will face have already been examined by Mr Crouch and Mr Bagman, and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways… their magical prowess - their daring - their powers of deduction - and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."
The Hall was silent at this point, so silent, it seemed nobody was breathing.
"As you know, four champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."
Dumbledore now took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It was full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames. Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall.
"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the four it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.
"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," said Dumbledore, "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line."
There was a murmur of annoyance from Hogwarts.
"Nobody under the age of seventeen," Dumbledore continued. "With the exception of two. Jason Grace and Piper McLean please stand."
Harry saw Hermione's face change with realization. Movement down the table caught Harry's attention.
The blond boy and the girl with the feather in her hair both got to their feet uneasily.
"You are both sixteen, correct?" Dumbledore asked.
They nodded.
"Yes, sir." The boy said.
"You two - and you alone - will be allowed to put your names in the Goblet."
They nodded again and sat down.
Fred and George and several other students gaped at Dumbledore. "What?!" Fred and George demanded. "Why them?"
"Due to Delphi school's advanced Self-Defense program, Mr Crouch and Mr Bagman have deemed them suitable for the competition. That is all there is to say on the matter."
"Finally," Dumbledore finished. "I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."
HAPPY CANADA DAY EVERYONE!