The Potter Twins and the Goblet of Fire

Chapter 4: The Tournament

It had been quite hectic upon returning to the Burrow.

Mr. Weasley had been forced to deal with numerous problems involving the incident, including an article written by someone named Rita Skeeter.

Upon reading the article, Michael found a distaste for her embellishment and out of context writing that made Mr. Weasley look like a total fool.

And on the morning of their departure for Hogwarts, Harry and Michael got to see some very strange sights, such as Amos Diggory sticking his head out of the fire, and hearing of a man called Mad-Eye Moody. Alastor Moody, his real name, was a wizard who was an old friend of Dumbledore, highly respected by Mr. Weasley, and was known for hunting down dark wizards. Even if most described him as being one nut short of a fruitcake.

Anyway…. The group soon finished their trip and were very relieved to get out at King's Cross, even though the rain was coming down harder than ever, and they got soaked carrying their trunks across the busy road and into the station.

The twins were used to getting onto platform nine and three-quarters by now. It was a simple matter of walking straight through the apparently solid barrier dividing platforms nine and ten. The only tricky part was doing this in an unobtrusive way, so as to avoid attracting Muggle attention. They did it in groups today.

Michael, Harry, Ron and Hermione, (the most conspicuous, since they were accompanied by Pigwidgeon; Ron's new owl, Fleet, Hedwig, and Crookshanks), went first; they leaned casually against the barrier, chatting unconcernedly, and slid sideways through it, and as they did so, platform nine and three-quarters materialized in front of them.

The Hogwarts Express was already there, clouds of steam billowing from it, through which the many Hogwarts students and parents on the platform appeared like dark ghosts. Pigwidgeon became noisier than ever in response to the hooting of many owls through the mist. Harry, Ron, and Hermione set off to find seats, and were soon stowing their luggage in a compartment halfway along the train. They then hopped back down onto the platform to say good-bye to Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie.

Charlie, "I might be seeing you all sooner than you think."

Charlie hugged Ginny good-bye.

Fred, "why?"

Charlie, "you'll see. Just don't tell Percy I mentioned it…. It's 'classified information until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it', after all."

Bill, "yeah, I sort of wish I were back at Hogwarts this year."

George, "why?"

Bill, "you're going to have an interesting year. I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it…."

Ron, "a bit of what?"

But at that moment, the whistle blew, and Mrs. Weasley chivvied them toward the train doors.

Hermione, "thanks for having us to stay, Mrs. Weasley."

She climbed on board, closed the door, and leaned out of the window to talk to her.

Harry, "yeah, thanks for everything, Mrs. Weasley."

Michael, "I doubt we could ever repay you for your kindness."

Mrs. Weasley, "oh it was my pleasure, dears. I'd invite you for Christmas, but…. Well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with…. One thing and another."

Ron, "Mum! What d'you three know that we don't?"

Mrs. Weasley, "you'll find out this evening, I expect. It's going to be very exciting, mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules…."

Harry, Michael, Ron, Fred, and George said together, "what rules?"

Mrs. Weasley, "I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you…. Now, behave, won't you? Won't you, Fred? And you, George?"

The pistons hissed loudly and the train began to move.

Fred bellowed out of the window as Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie sped away from them, "tell us what's happening at Hogwarts! What rules are they changing?"

But Mrs. Weasley only smiled and waved. Before the train had rounded the corner, she, Bill, and Charlie had Disapparated.

Michael, Harry, Ron, and Hermione went back to their compartment.

The thick rain splattering the windows made it very difficult to see out of them.

Ron, "Bagman wanted to tell us what's happening at Hogwarts. At the World Cup, remember? But my own mother won't say. Wonder what-"

Hermione shushed them suddenly, pressing her finger to her lips and pointing toward the compartment next to theirs. Harry, Michael and Ron listened, and heard a familiar voice drifting in through the open door.

"... Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore, the man's such a Mudblood-lover, and Durmstrang doesn't admit that sort of riffraff. But Mother didn't like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defense rubbish we do…."

Hermione got up, tiptoed to the compartment door, and slid it shut, blocking out Malfoy's voice.

Michael, "thanks!"

Hermione, "so he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he? I wish he had gone, then we wouldn't have to put up with him."

Harry, "Durmstrang's another wizarding school?"

Hermione, "yes. And it's got a horrible reputation. According to; An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe, it puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark Arts."

Ron, "I think I've heard of it. Where is it? What country?"

Hermione, "well, nobody knows, do they?"

Michael, "er, why not?"

Hermione, "there's traditionally been a lot of rivalry between all the magic schools. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons like to conceal their whereabouts so nobody can steal their secrets."

Ron, "come off it. Durmstrang's got to be about the same size as Hogwarts, how are you going to hide a great big castle?"

Hermione, "but Hogwarts is hidden. Everyone knows that…. Well, everyone who's read Hogwarts, A History, anyway."

Ron, "just you, then. So go on, how d'you hide a place like Hogwarts?"

Michael, "yeah, I'm quite curious about that as well."

Hermione, "it's bewitched. If a Muggle looks at it, all they see is a moldering old ruin with a sign over the entrance saying, 'danger, do not enter, unsafe.'"

Ron, "so Durmstrang'll just look like a ruin to an outsider too?"

Hermione, "maybe. Or it might have Muggle-repelling charms on it, like the World Cup stadium. And to keep foreign wizards from finding it, they'll have made it unplottable."

Michael, "come again?"

Hermione, "well, you can enchant a building so it's impossible to plot on a map, can't you?"

Harry, "er…. If you say so."

Hermione, "but I think Durmstrang must be somewhere in the far north. Somewhere very cold, because they've got fur capes as part of their uniforms."

Ron, "ah, think of the possibilities. It would've been so easy to push Malfoy off a glacier and make it look like an accident…. Shame his mother likes him…."

The rain became heavier and heavier as the train moved farther north. The sky was so dark and the windows so steamy that the lanterns were lit by midday. The lunch trolley came rattling along the corridor, and Michael bought a large stack of Cauldron Cakes for them to share.

As Michael did so, who should he run into?

Cho Chang!

To Michael, she looked even prettier than last year. He kept looking down with a blush on his face as she said hello to her friend and bought herself some pasties.

Michael could barely say a word during their meeting.

Several of their friends looked in on them as the afternoon progressed, including Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom.

Soon, the train made its stop at Hogwarts.

As they got off, Harry and Michael were happy to see good old Hagrid there!

(Once again, RIP Robbie Coltrane.)

Harry, "hi, Hagrid!"

Michael, "hey Hagrid!"

Hagrid, "all righ', Harry? Michael? See yeh at the feast if we don' drown!"

First years traditionally reached Hogwarts Castle by sailing across the lake with Hagrid.

Hermione, "oooh, I wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather."

They inched slowly along the dark platform with the rest of the crowd. A hundred horseless carriages stood waiting for them outside the station. Michael, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville climbed gratefully into one of them, the door shut with a snap, and a few moments later, with a great lurch, the long procession of carriages was rumbling its way up the track toward Hogwarts Castle….

….

Through the gates, flanked with statues of winged boars, and up the sweeping drive the carriages trundled, swaying dangerously in what was fast becoming a gale. Leaning against the window, Harry and Michael could see Hogwarts coming nearer, its many lighted windows blurred and shimmering behind the thick curtain of rain.

Lightning flashed across the sky as their carriage came to a halt before the great oak front doors, which stood at the top of a flight of stone steps. People who had occupied the carriages in front were already hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. Harry, Ron, Michael, Hermione, and Neville jumped down from their carriage and dashed up the steps too, looking up only when they were safely inside the cavernous, torch-lit entrance hall, with its magnificent marble staircase.

Ron, "blimey, if that keeps up the lake's going to overflow."

Michael, "yeah, I'm soak- ARRGH!"

Michael was suddenly hit by a large red water balloon!

The teens looked up and saw, floating twenty feet above them, Peeves the Poltergeist, his wide, malicious face contorted with concentration as he took aim again.

An angry voice yelled, "PEEVES! Peeves, come down here at ONCE!"

Professor McGonagall, had come dashing out of the Great Hall; she skidded on the wet floor and grabbed Hermione around the neck to stop herself from falling.

McGonagall, "ouch, sorry, Miss Granger…."

Hermione, "that's alright, Professor."

McGonagall, "Peeves, get down here NOW!"

She straightened out her pointed hat and glared upward through her square-rimmed spectacles.

Peeves said, lobbing a water bomb at several fifth-year girls, who screamed and dived into the Great Hall, "not doing nothing! Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!"

He aimed another bomb at a group of second years who had just arrived.

McGonagall, "I shall call the headmaster! I'm warning you, Peeves…."

Peeves stuck out his tongue, threw the last of his water bombs into the air, and zoomed off up the marble staircase, cackling insanely.

Michael, "I hate that poltergeist..."

McGonagall, "well, move along, then! Into the Great Hall, come on!"

Michael, Harry, Ron, and Hermione slipped and slid across the entrance hall and through the double doors on the right, Michael muttering furiously as he pushed his sopping hair off his face.

The Great Hall looked its usual splendid self, decorated for the start-of-term feast. Golden plates and goblets gleamed by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles, floating over the tables in midair. The four long House tables were packed with chattering students; at the top of the Hall, the staff sat along one side of a fifth table, facing their pupils. It was much warmer in here. Harry, Ron, Michael and Hermione walked past the Slytherins, the Ravenclaws, and the Hufflepuffs, and sat down with the rest of the Gryffindors at the far side of the Hall, next to Nearly Headless Nick.

Nick, "good evening."

Harry, "says who? Hope they hurry up with the Sorting. I'm starving."

Things seemed to calm down for a bit. Michael and Harry ended up seeing Colin Creevey again. He apparently had a brother named Dennis, who was being sorted this year. It was interesting to learn that not all siblings were sorted into the same house. Like how the Pavarti twins were in different houses.

They also noticed that they had yet to show who the new defense against the dark arts teacher was.

Michael and Harry still missed Lupin….

They saw the other teachers sitting together. Dumbledore, Flitwick, Sprout, Pomfrey, and of course, Snape.

Harry hated seeing Snape, but Michael had a weird soft spot for him, though Lord knows why.

McGonagall and Hagrid were currently missing.

Ron, "oh, hurry up. I could eat a hippogriff."

The words were no sooner out of his mouth when the doors of the Great Hall opened and silence fell. McGonagall was leading a long line of first years up to the top of the Hall. If Harry, Michael, Ron, and Hermione were wet, it was nothing to how these first years looked. They appeared to have swum across the lake rather than sailed. All of them were shivering as they filed along the staff table and came to a halt in a line facing the rest of the school.

The sorting went by, and Harry and Michael actually chuckled when Colin's brother got into Gryffindor. Although it faded when the kids lost admiring the boys to stalkerish levels.

Once the sorting was done, everyone tucked into their food, happily.

But during the feast, Hermione stopped eating due to her anger over learning that the food was all made by House Elves.

Michael and the others tried to get her to eat, but she refused.

Eventually, the feast ended, and Dumbledore began to inform the students about conditions this year. Such as more than 400 prohibited items, the forest being forbidden, and something that made Harry shocked to the core, "it is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

Harry gasped. He looked around at Fred and George, his fellow members of the Quidditch team. They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak.

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 at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table.

A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling.

The lightning had thrown the man's face into sharp relief, and it was a face unlike any Harry and Michael had ever seen. It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces looked like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the 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, and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all they could see was whiteness.

The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words they couldn't hear. He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head unsmiling and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured to the empty seat on his right-hand side.

The stranger sat down, shook his hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students.

Dumbledore, "may I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? Professor Moody."

It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students clapped except Dumbledore and Hagrid, but the sound echoed into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by Moody's bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him.

Harry, "Moody?"

Michael, "Mad-Eye Moody? The one your dad went to help this morning?"

Ron, "it must be."

Hermione, "but what happened to his face!?"

Ron shrugged.

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 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."

Fred, "you're JOKING!"

The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.

Dumbledore, "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-"

McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

Dumbledore, "er, but maybe this is not the time…. Now…. 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."

Hermione gasped as everyone else tensed.

Dumbledore, "there have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament. 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."

Fred, George and various other kids began to think of what it'd be like to enter the tournament.

Dumbledore, "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 years or older, will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This", he said over some angry yells, "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!"

And with that, the students began to file out of the Great Hall and to their dorms.

When Michael, Harry and the others got to their dorms, all of them were exhausted, even Hermione as she kept growling about the house elves being slaves.

Michael managed to find his phial he had sent to Hogwarts to complete his Animagus transformation.

Ever since he sent the phial, he had continued the process.

While waiting for the storm, at every sunrise and sundown, he would place the tip of the wand over his heart and speak aloud, 'Amato Animo Animato Animagus.'

As this is repeated, eventually with the touch of the tip of the wand, he heard a second heartbeat being sensed and just kept going, like the instructions said.

Harry and Michael soon laid down in their beds, closing their eyes as they imagined what it'd be like to become the Triwizard Champion, winning in front of an enormous crowd!

In Michael's imagination, Cho's face stood out particularly clearly in the blurred crowd, her face glowing with admiration…. For Harry, he thought he saw a girl with red hair in his crowd….

They were glad that Ron and the others couldn't see their giddy smiles as they dozed off….

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Reviews:

denni19molly: I have no idea when I'll ever do this story. Or what the plot would be. Or if the pairing would even be Kim x OC. I don't wanna leave Ron without a love interest. Plus, while I think Kim is attractive, I was always more attracted to Shego or Warmonga. And what did you mean by, "artistically gifted?"

Bailey Radcliff: glad you're enjoying this story.

Canadude2029: thanks, glad you're enjoying this story.

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