Author's note: Hey all, I'm not dead, surprise! I was incredibly busy with school work and most importantly took time of writing to figure out where I want this story to go and what type of story I want to tell. After a couple weeks, I think I have the framework for how the story is going to play out. On a related note, during these weeks I decided that I want to write in past tense instead of present tense like last chapter so this is officially the verb tense I'm going with. I apologize if it's distracting. As always, reviews are appreciated and I hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own shit 'cept the shit that I do own.

Chapter 3: Arrival

Sirius,

There's been a change of plans—It seems that I'll be attending Hogwarts, allowing me to observe the situation firsthand. I'm staying at The Savoy in London for the next two days before leaving for Hogwarts. See me at the earliest convenience.

-B. Wayne

Brook,

I'm inclined to think that this might be a blessing in disguise. I'll meet you at the café across the street on Saturday around 2:00.

-Sirius

Brook drummed her fingers against the table while aimlessly gazing out the café window. She was people watching. A rather heavy man with crimson cheeks was berating some poor employee on the phone. The drops of sweat clung to the side of his face and his shirt collar was already dipped in perspiration. His grip on his briefcase tightened and he began to spit as he emphasized every word. A young woman flinched and grimaced when a spit particle landed on her face, leading her dog away from the man. She wiped her face with the sleeve of her jacket and adjusted her sunglasses. Strutting confidently, she simply refused to look anywhere but forward. Customary for such a large metropolis like London, Brook guessed.

Near the woman, Brook found a small girl with pig-tailed hair tugging on her mother's coat sleeve and pointing to the store window. Must be a toy store. I used to love playing with Hot Wheels when I was little. Too bad I kept flinging them across the room with magic by accident. Mom thought it amusing. Dad too, until I broke the vase from the Ming Dynasty. And cracked the aquarium glass. And tore a hole through his favorite classic Spanish guitar. Julius suggested plastering the entire room with archery targets.

"Cappuccino for Brooklyn?" Brook jumped in her chair and tore her eyes away from the window. A barista with a light beige apron and a long fiery braid looked at her expectantly, holding out a dainty cup.

"Uh yes. Yeah, that would be me." The barista carefully placed the cup on the table.

"Love your name by the way. Let me know if you need anything," she said, flashing a bright and radiant smile. Brook only nodded in response. Focusing her attention to the cappuccino, she noticed that the milk was used to draw a perfectly symmetric leaf. She leaned in and took a big whiff with her eyes closed. Her lips curled into a subtle smile.

"Looks like I'm interrupting a rather intimate moment with your coffee there," Sirius smiled, taking the seat directly across from Brook. He looked a lot healthier than the last time she saw him. Not to mention well groomed. His hair was no longer a mess of tangles and his chin had lost the scraggly beard.

"You have no idea." She chuckled and took a sip from the cup, savoring the sweet and bitter taste.

"So," Sirius started, leaning in. "Hogwarts."

"Yes, Hogwarts. It's a stroke of luck that this opportunity presented itself. Although, I have reason to believe that Jackson knows more about my intentions than he's letting on."

"Regardless, I think this is quite a development, don't you think?"

Brook nodded her head in agreement. "Oh, definitely. I get to watch the legendary Harry Potter himself in person."

"Hey, easy there. It's my godson you're talking about."

She smirked in response. "All I'm saying is that the rumors have been largely exaggerated among the public. Anyways, tell me more about this tournament."

"Well, traditionally, it's held between three schools: Durmstrang, Beauxbatons, and of course, Hogwarts. One champion from each school will be chosen and will be required by a magical contract to participate in three tasks, each more difficult than the last. Their performance after every task will be scored by a panel of judges and the champion with the highest combined score wins the tournament."

"So, like a magical Olympics, kind of."

"A magical what?"

"Nevermind." She took another sip from her cup. "I heard that it's been discontinued for centuries. Why the sudden interest?"

"Can't say. Not even people in the ministry know why. It's been very hush-hush over there lately."

"That's… concerning."

"I have to agree with you on that. I don't like it—the entire thing and its timing just feels off."

"Dumbledore seems okay with it happening."

"Yes, but it's entirely possible for him to go through with this only to gain more allies for what's coming," he said while brushing his long locks of hair aside.

"That's certainly plausible. I think it'll be an interesting year to say the least."

"I think that might be in the running for the understatement of the year."

"I can't believe I'm about to meet them. I feel like I've been waiting my whole life for this."

"I'm sure you'll manage, Brook. After all, you are Marie's daughter. Not to mention that I have you to thank for my freedom and my life. I'll have to return the favor someday."

"Don't mention it." She shrugged.

Sirius glanced at the clock on the wall. "I have to go." He stood up, his chair scraping the floorboards. "Take care of Harry please, Brook. He's all I've got left."

"I will."

"Are you leaving tomorrow afternoon?" She nodded in the affirmative. "Does Ilvermorny have transportation for you lot?"

She broke in to a wide grin. "Oh yes. You have no idea."

"Ron, stop fidgeting. You're being unnecessarily anxious." Hermione chided her redheaded companion. The Hogwarts students were all gathered outside of the campus in anticipation of the schools' arrivals. There was an air of excitement in the crowd as many if not all of the students hadn't seen wizards and witches from the foreign schools before.

"Unnecessarily? This is Victor Krum we're talking about Hermione!" Ron protested, flailing his arms around for emphasis. He then climbed the base of a pillar to gain a better vantage point.

"I have to agree with Ron on this one, Hermione. He is the biggest quidditch star in the world after all." Harry added, taking his place on the platform next to Ron's.

"I get that, but I just don't see the need to act like a hyperactive fanatic, that's all." Hermione responded with her arms crossed. She turned her head as a hand rested on her shoulder.

"Let them be 'Mione. I'm actually looking forward to seeing him too, truthfully." Ginny said.

She still didn't understand what all the fuss was about. He's only a quidditch player, not Merlin himself. Despite this, however, Hermione was looking forward to having the other schools over at Hogwarts. She was a scholar above anything else, and she had to admit the prospect of learning about different wizarding cultures from around the world firsthand was extremely intriguing to say the least. Sure, she had read countless articles and books on the subject before, but nothing would come close to interacting with the diverse cultures herself.

Her thoughts were interrupted when a second year boy pointed at the sky and yelled, "Look! Over there!" The students craned their necks and squinted at the clouds to catch a glimmer of what the boy had seen. With astonishing speed, a carriage pulled by a dozen Abraxan horses shot into view and landed on the grass with surprising grace. The golden door opened and a towering woman stepped out. No one could believe their eyes; she was taller than Hagrid! Dumbledore rushed out to greet her, taking her hand and leading her to the castle entrance.

"Ah, Madame Maxime! So nice to see you, right this way."

"How tall do you think she is, mate?" Ron whispered to Harry.

"She's almost twice my height, I bet."

Following Madame Maxime was a line of Beauxbaton students in their pale blue silk uniforms, their heads held high, an aura of grace and elegance radiating with each step they took.

Hermione suddenly punched Ron's arm, startling him from his daze. "Stop drooling, Ronald. It's creepy and barbaric."

"They're angels, Hermione. They've basically descended from heaven." He sighed longingly. Hermione only rolled her eyes in response.

"Excuse my idiot brother, 'Mione. Obviously, his brain hasn't made it past the ape stage." Ginny offered while also punching Ron's arm. Durmstrang came next with its massive and imposing ship that emerged from underwater. Dumbledore ran to greet Professor Karkaroff as well. When Krum stepped out, the entire student body rushed to get a glimpse of him. The Hogwarts professors had to conjure protective shields to prevent someone like Ron from barreling over and tackling Krum. Not that Ron could tackle Krum's stocky build anyway.

"There's one more school coming, apparently." Hermione stated. Ginny turned to her in surprise.

"I thought it was called the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Tri-wizard as in three wizards?"

"Yes, but there is another school coming. Ilvermorny from America."

As soon as she said that, Ron cried out, "Bloody hell, what in Merlin's beard is that?" His eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets.

"That, Ronald, is what muggles call a helicopter."

Brook sat on the edge of her bed, carefully inspecting her wand. She let out a big breath and held out her trembling right hand. She grasped it with her left hand in an attempt to stop the shaking. A knock was heard on the door.

"Hey Brook, mind if I come in?" Alexis called out from the hallway.

"No, not at all." She replied. Her best friend sauntered in, her fiery red curls bouncing with each step. There was a coffee cup in each hand.

"I got you a cup. We ran out of cappuccino, so I got you Americano with sugar." Brook graciously took the offering with her left hand, her right still trembling on her lap. Alexis didn't fail to catch her situation. She plopped down on the bed next to Brook and draped her arms over her shoulders, pulling her in a tight embrace. "Hey, I got your back, all right? You don't have to do everything on your own. I'm always here for you, got that?"

Brook reluctantly hugs Alexis back, clutching the back of her robe to stop her hand from shaking. "Five years and I still don't know why you do this."

Alexis pulls away and stares intently into Brook's grey eyes. "That's what friends are for, Brook. Friends care about one another. Now, drink your coffee." Brook obliged. "Better?" She looked down and noticed that her hand had ceased to shake.

"Better." She replied with a grin on her face.

"Good, Jackson says we'll be landing in two minutes. So, get ready."

Hermione sat in the Great Hall with her friends as the student body was buzzing about the afternoon's arrivals. Most of the students discussed either Krum's fantastic sophomore season in the professional leagues or how gorgeous the Beauxbatons students were. However, Hermione's mind kept circling back to the Ilvermorny arrival. Sure, she has seen helicopters before in London, but never in the wizarding world. An enchanted one designed to provide housing for fifteen students, no less! Not only that, the design near the rear propeller was highly intriguing as well: An encircled golden W overlapping an E. The logo was familiar, but she couldn't quite put her finger on which institution it belonged to.

She was still deep in her thoughts when Dumbledore called for quiet by clinking his spoon against his chalice. The Great Hall immediately fell into silence, eager to see what the Headmaster had in store next.

"As you know, Hogwarts is honored to continue the renewed tradition of the tri-wizard tournament this year. Normally, there would only be two schools: Durmstrang Institute and Beauxbatons Academy. But this year, the ministry has decided to allow an additional school to compete. So, without further ado, Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

The massive oak doors opened with a loud creak and streaks of light of all colors flew into the room, whizzing past students and exploding in a bright flurry of red, white, and blue. The students followed the fireworks and marched down the center aisle of the Great Hall, casting more firework spells as they went. The hall erupted into cheers at the display and the volume only rose when the girl in the front created a bald eagle made of flames that flew around the hall and ultimately exploded into a sparkling image of the American flag above the professors' table.

"I like them already!" yelled Fred and George in unison, above the deafening roar of the students.

Hermione was impressed with the show, but more specifically, the girl who had made the eagle. She couldn't have been a seventh year, judging by her facial features, so it made the feat even more extraordinary. When the applause finally died down, Dumbledore directed them to sit at the Gryffindor table. There was a spot reserved for them near the front end next to the seventh years. Hermione was disappointed that the American students were so far away. She decided that she would get to know them some other time.

The Beauxbaton Academy girls almost floated into the Great Hall with doves and butterflies following them. They winked at gawking and drooling boys (Ron included) who looked as if they could die happy now that a flock of stunning girls had acknowledged them to a degree. Ron was heartbroken that the girls were seated at the Ravenclaw table.

Finally, the Durmstrang boys displayed an overpowering performance of impeccable cadence and sheer raw strength. During their performance, it was the Hogwarts girls that now found themselves fawning over the foreign students. Hermione could only scoff at girls like Lavender Brown who ever practically undressing the Durmstrang students with their eyes.

Once everyone had been situated, Dumbledore addressed the student body once again. "The Tri-Wizard Tournament brings with it great honor and pride for the schools and its champions. However, it is not without its risks and dangers. That is why the ministry has instated an age requirement to put your name in the goblet for selection." He gestured to a man-sized goblet emitting blue flames that rose from the floor. "Applicants must be a fifth year or older in order to compete." Audible groans could be heard from all tables. Dumbledore called for silence by raising both his hands. "We have taken precautionary measures to ensure that this rule will not be broken. If any student under the age requirement tries to go against the ministry's rules by entering his or her name into the goblet, there will be consequences. The champions from each school will be announced two weeks from today. Enjoy the feast."

As soon as he finished, steaming plates of food from British, American, French, and Scandinavian cuisine appeared in front of every student, covering every available inch of table space. Brook jumped in her seat when the food seemingly appeared out of thin air. "Jeez, that scared the shit out of me!" She exclaimed. Alexis giggled next to her, trying to cover her mouth. "Oh, shut up. What if I had a heart attack?"

"Well, then coffee plants around the world would breathe a sigh of relief."

Brook rolled her eyes and flipped her off.

"Excusez-moi, can I have ze bouillabaisse?" Both girls turned to the source of the voice to find one of the Beauxbatons girls in her full radiant glory. The dazzling French girl looked at Alexis expectantly, pointing to the stew besides the redhead. Brook nudged her with her elbow.

"Lex, she's talking to you," she whispered.

"Huh? Oh yeah, sure. Definitely…" Alexis handed the stew to the Beauxbatons student, her cheeks threatening to match the color of her hair.

"Merci, mademoiselle. My name iz Fleur Delacour. Pleasure to meet you."

"Like—likewise. Alexis Thompson."

"Brooklyn Wayne." Brook introduced herself since Alexis struggled to get even her own name out of her mouth.

"Thank you for the bouillabaisse. I'll see you around, oui?" She turned to walk back to the Ravenclaw table, but not before throwing back a wink. Alexis sat there, frozen. Staring at where the blond once stood.

Brook leaned in. "Soooo, I didn't know you had a thing for French girls." She teased.

"Not. A. Word. More."