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Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with the Harry Potter Universe, but I do own Mia
Chapter 5: The Hogwarts Feast
"I hate rain," Mia muttered, as she, Fred and George trudged into the Entrance Hall. Their hair was flattened to their hairs, their robes were soaked through, it was nearly impossible to see because of water in their eyes. But the ink still hadn't come off of Mia's cheek.
"ARRGH!" someone yelled from behind them and they all turned round to see Ron standing there, a new batch of water falling off his head, and Peeves cackling above them.
"Oh god…" Mia groaned, as Peeves started letting water balloons on the students' heads. One landed on George's head and splashed Fred, causing Mia to giggle a little bit. But she stopped when one exploded on top of her own head.
"PEEVES!" Professor McGonagall screeched. "Peeves get down here NOW!" she yelled, walking down the steps.
"Not doing nothing!" hooted Peeves, who threw another water bomb. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!" he threw another one at Fred, George and Mia, who scattered apart.
"I shall call the headmaster!" shouted Professor McGonagall. "I'm warning you, Peeves-"
The Poltergeist stuck out his tongue, threw one more water balloon and flew away.
"Well, move along, then!" said Professor McGonagall sharply to the bedraggled crowd. "Into the Great Hall, come on!"
"I hate him," Mia said, as she squeezed out her hair, "I really, really hate him."
"Ah, c'mon," Fred said, as they made their way over to the Gryffindor table, "you've gotta admit, some of the stuff he does is funny!"
"Like what?" Mia exclaimed, now ringing out her robes.
"Like when he does it to Slytherins," Fred offered, as they sat down. Mia looked at him for a second.
"Good point."
Opposite them, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell sat down.
"Hey," Angelina greeted, sighing.
"You alright?" Mia replied, and the three Chasers nodded.
"I just got his with two of those water balloons," Katie complained, "in a row!"
Mia grimaced, "I only got hit with one."
"Anyways," Angelina cut in, "Oliver's gone this year, right?" she asked, referring to the previous keeper of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Mia closed her eyes and groaned.
"Yeah," Katie replied.
"Mia-?"
"NO!" she cut her off, "I'm not joining the bloody Quidditch team!"
"But we need a new Keeper!" Alicia said.
"Then have try-outs!" Mia replied, "Isn't that what you're meant to do? As a Captain?"
"I'm not captain," Angelina shrugged.
"Neither am I," Katie added.
"Or me," Alicia said.
Fred and George glanced at each other, and Mia looked confused. "Well we're not, either," the twins said.
"Well, how can you not have a captain?" Mia asked.
"What about Harry?" Katie asked. George shook his head,
"No," he replied, "We'd know if he was…"
"Yeah," Mia said, "and he's a bit young, ain't he?" she looked down the table at him, and waved to Hermione.
The large double doors burst open, and McGonagall led the cold, wet, pale, scared-looking First Years in. There was one tiny little boy shuddering under what looked like Hagrid's massive coat.
McGonagall set the Sorting Hat down on the stool, and everyone in the Hall waited. Some of the first years had looks of confusion on their faces.
A rip in the hat open, and it began to sing:
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 fin.
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!
Mia clapped along with everyone else in the hall, then combed through her damp hair again.
About half way through the sorting, Mia started to grumble about being hungry and George chuckled lightly. Finally, the last student had been sorted, into Hufflepuff.
"About time!" Mia said.
Up the top of the hall, Dumbledore stood up and said, "I have only two words to say to you. Tuck it!"
"Here, here!" Harry and Ron called from down the table. Food filled the golden plates, and Mia loaded hers along with Fred, George, Alicia, Angelina and Katie.
Mia grinned, before sticking a bit of gammon in her mouth.
"Better?" George asked, laughing.
"Much!" she replied, sticking a potato in her mouth.
After they had eaten, or, more like inhaled, their food, Dumbledore stood up again.
"So!" he said, 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," he gestured to the old man, "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."
"Damn it!" muttered Mia.
"What?" George whispered.
"I have about five Screaming Yo-yos and three Fanged Frisbees in my trunk!" she replied.
"What about the Ever-Bashing Boomerangs?" Fred asked. Mia sighed and shook her head.
"Wouldn't fit," she mumbled.
The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched, as if he could hear their conversation. 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-"
"What?" Mia heard Harry yell. Fred and George started mouthing without words at Dumbledore.
"You look like fish!" she giggled.
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-"
But then the doors to the halls opened with a loud CRASH! In the doorway, stood a man, leaning on a staff. Everyone looked at his as he took off his cloak and lightening flared on the ceiling, and Mia stared, horror-struck, at the man.
His face was carved with scars, crossing over each other and pulling his features in different directions and part of his nose was missing. One of his eyes was small and dark. And the other was large, round and luminous blue. It didn't blink, and it never stopped moving. It moved up and down, left and right, and then went all the way round to the back of his head.
Mia looked over to George, with a horrified look on her face, and she was shocked to see an awed-expression on his face, which was mirrored on Fred's.
The man walked up to the staff table, with a thump every other step. Finally, he reached Dumbledore, shook his hand, and then sat down in a chair, and began to eat.
"May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore into the stunned silence, with a cheery voice, "Professor Moody."
Mia's eyes widened even further. "I am not being taught by him," she whispered, "he looks like something you'd get in a nightmare!
"actually," George told her, "he's the person that locks up all the people you'd get in a nightmare."
Mia licked her lips and glanced at Moody, then asked, "Who is he?"
"Mad-Eye Moody, an Auror," Fred told her, at seeing her confused face, he continued. "catches dark wizards, puts them in Azkaban."
"Oh, so kinda like a policeman?" Mia asked, forgetting that the twins didn't know what a policeman was.
"Uh, yeah, whatever…" he said.
"As I was saying," Dumbledore said, smiling. No one looked back to him. "we are to have the honour 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 yelled into Mia's ear.
"OW!" she said just as loudly, knowing that everyone would've heard her. Everyone laughed, at them, or with them, she wasn't sure. She didn't even know what the 'Triwizard Tournament' was.
"I am not joking, Mr Weasley," Dumbledore said, and Fred grinned as Mia rolled her eyes. "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.
"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."
"That's actually kinda cool…" Mia muttered.
"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore went on, "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." At the mention of a judge, Mia got an image of Simon Cowell wearing wizard robes in her head.
"I'm going for it!" Fred muttered, his face excited.
"Me too!" George smiled.
"Me three!" Mia said. But then their short-lived dreams were shattered.
"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said above the noise, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, has 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."
"WHAT?" Fred, George and Mia yelled together, fury seeping over their faces. Dumbledore calmly ignore them and went on.
"This 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." He looked over to the three sixth-years. Oh, if looks could kill, Dumbledore would already be in a coffin. "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, and everyone started to get up and go towards the doors.
"But… but… but... UGH!" Mia threw her hands up in the air, narrowly missing George's face.
"They can't do that!" said George, ducking her hand. "We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a shot?"
"April? APRIL?" Mia said, turning to him, "I'm seventeen in November! Long before you two!"
"They're not stopping me entering," said Fred, crossing his arms and glaring at the staff. "The champion's get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money!"
"Yeah," said Ron. Mia hadn't noticed Ron, Harry and Hermione hadn't left yet. "Yeah, a thousand Galleons..."
"Come on," said Hermione, "we'll be the only ones left here if you don't move." They all stood up and exited the Great Hall.
"Who's this impartial judge who's going to decide who the champions are?" asked Harry.
"Dunno," said Fred, "but it's them we'll have to fool. I reckon a couple of drops of Aging Potion might do it, George..."
"Dumbledore knows you're not of age, though," said Ron.
"Yeah, but he's not the one who decides who the champion is, is he?" said Mia, quirking her eyebrows. "the judge'll choose the best from each school, won't matter how old they are… I think an aging potion'll do it!"
"People have died, though!" Hermione almost shrieked. They walked through a hidden door behind a tapestry and up some more stairs.
"Yeah," said Fred, "but that was years ago, wasn't it? Anyway, where's the fun without a bit of risk?" he looked down to his little brother, "Hey, Ron, what if we find out how to get 'round Dumbledore? Fancy entering?"
"What d'ya reckon?" Ron asked, looking at Harry. "Be cool to enter, wouldn't it? But I s'pose they might want someone older... Dunno if we've learned enough..."
Mia rolled her eyes. "I doubt it's about how much you've learnt, Ron," she said, "it'll be about using what you have learnt and… applying it to the situation," she smiled.
"I definitely haven't learnt enough," someone said, they all looked round to see Neville Longbottom climbing up the stairs behind them. "I expect my gran'd want me to try, though. She's always going on about how I should be upholding the family honour. I'll just have to- oops..."
Neville's foot had sunk right through a step halfway up the staircase. A suit of armour laughed next to them and Mia took off its head, dropped it, and kicked it down the stairs. Harry and Ron helped Neville out of the step and they carried on towards Gryffindor Tower.
"Password?" asked the Fat Lady. Mia had once asked if 'the Fat Lady' was her real name… she hadn't gotten an answer.
"Balderdash," said George, "a prefect downstairs told me."
"When did we meet a prefect?" Mia, raising her eyebrows.
"You didn't, I did," he replied.
The woman's painting swung and they climbed through the hole. A fire was dancing in the fire place, warming the room.
"Slave labour," murmured Hermione before she climbed the stairs to the girls' dormitory.
"Huh?" Mia asked. Harry and Ron quickly explained about Hermione finding out about House-Elves in the kitchens.
"Oh, those little things are so sweet!" Mia exclaimed half way through their speech and George laughed.
"Right… Imma get to bed," Mia yawned, "I'll see you guys tomorrow," she hugged Fred and George quickly, ruffled Harry and Ron's hair, and headed up the stairs after Hermione.
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