Chapter 11
The Triwizard Tournament
KIARA
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. Looking out the window, I saw Dragon Mort coming nearer, its many lighted windows blurred and shimmering behind the thick curtain of rain. Lightning flashed across the sky as our 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; Chris, Sian, Chrissie, Nikita and I jumped down from our carriage and dashed up the steps too, looking up only when we were safely inside the cavernous, torch-lit Entrance Hall, with its magnificent marble staircase.
"Blimey," said Chrissie, shaking her head and sending water everywhere, "if that keeps up the river's going to overflow. I'm soak - ARGH!"
A large, brown, water-filled balloon had dropped from out of the ceiling onto Chrissie's head and exploded. Drenched and spluttering, Chrissie staggered sideways into me, just as a second water bomb dropped - narrowly missing Chris and Sian, it burst at my feet, sending a wave of cold water over my shoes and into my socks. People all around us shrieked and started to push each other in their efforts to get out of the line of fire - I looked up and saw, twenty feet above us, Weeves the poltergeist, a little woman in a bell-covered hat and orange scarf, her wide, malicious face contorted with concentration as she took aim again.
"WEEVES!" yelled an angry voice. "Weeves, come down here at ONCE!"
Professor Darbus, deputy headmistress and Head of Lion-Heart house, had come dashing out of the Great Hall; she skidded on the wet floor and grabbed Sian around the neck to stop herself falling. "Ouch - sorry, Miss Dawson - "
"That's all right, Professor!" Sian gasped, massaging her throat.
"Weeves, get down here NOW!" barked Professor Darbus, straightening her pointed hat and glaring upwards through her square-rimmed spectacles.
"Not doing nothing!" cackled Weeves, lobbing a water bomb at several fifth-year boys, who ran into the Great Hall. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!" And she aimed another bomb at another group of second-years who had just arrived.
"I shall call the Headmistress!" shouted Professor Darbus. "I'm warning you, Weeves - "
Weeves stuck out her tongue, threw the last of her water bombs into the air and zoomed off up the marble staircase, cackling insanely.
"Well, move along, then!" said Professor Darbus to those of us who were part of the bedraggled crowd. "Into the Great Hall, come on!"
Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I slipped and slid across the Entrance Hall and through the double doors to the right, Chrissie muttering furiously under her breath as she pushed her sopping hair out of her face.
The Great Hall looked its usual splendid self, decorated for the start-of-term feast. Silver plates and goblets, which were gleaming by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles that floated over the tables in mid-air. 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 so much warmer in there. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I walked past the Snake-Eyes, Raven-Wings and Badger-Stripes tables, and sat down with the rest of the Lion-Hearts at the far side of the Hall, next to Nearly Headless Nicola, the Lion-Heart ghost. Pearly white and semi-transparent, that night Nicola was dressed in her usual long dress with a particularly large ruff, which served the dual purpose of looking extra festive and ensuring that her head didn't wobble too much on her partially severed neck.
"Good evening," she said, beaming at us.
"Says who?" I said, taking off my shoes and emptying them of water. "Hope they hurry up with the Sorting, I'm starving."
The Sorting of new students into the four houses took place at the start of every year, but due to an unlucky combination of circumstances, I hadn't been present at one since my own, so therefore I was quite looking forward to it.
Just then, a highly-excited, breathless voice called down the table, "Hiya, Kiara!"
It was Colleen McCreevy, a third-year to whom I was something of a hero.
"Hi, Colleen," I said warily.
"Kiara, guess what? Guess what, Kiara? My sister's starting! My sister Denise!"
"Er - good," I said.
"She's really excited!" said Colleen, practically jumping up and down in her seat. "I just hope she's in Lion-Heart! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Kiara?"
"Er - yeah, all right," I said. I turned back to Chris, Sian, Chrissie and Madam Nicola. "Brothers and sisters usually go in the same houses, don't they?" I said. I was judging by the Dawsons, all ten of whom had been put into Lion-Heart.
"Oh, no, not necessarily," said Sian. "Sarah Rimmer's twin is in Badger-Stripes, and they're quite similar in features. You'd think, judging by that, that they'd be together, wouldn't you?"
I looked up at the staff table. There seemed to be more empty seats than usual that night. Mina, of course, was helping the first-years across the river; Professor Darbus was presumably supervising the drying of the Entrance Hall floor, but there was another empty chair, too, and I couldn't think who was missing.
"Where's the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Sian, who was also looking up at the teachers.
We had never had a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher who had lasted more than three terms. My favourite by far had been Professor Meers, who had resigned towards the end of my third year at Dragon Mort. I looked up and down the staff table. There was definitely no new face there.
"Maybe the couldn't get anyone!" said Sian, looking anxious.
I scanned the table more carefully. Tiny little Professor Winds, the Charms teacher, was sitting on a large pile of cushions beside Spud (no Professor in front, just Spud), the Herbology teacher, whose hat was tilted back slightly. He was talking to Professor Comet, the Astronomy teacher. On his other side was the sallow-faced, hook-nose, greasy-haired Potions mistress, Triphorm - my least favourite person at Dragon Mort (well, one of them at the time, anyway). My loathing of Triphorm was matched only by Triphorm's hatred of me, a hatred which had, if possible, intensified last year, when I helped my parents escape right under Triphorm's nose (HA!) - Triphorm and my parents had been enemies since their own schooldays, but - never mind! Although, I'm not so much against her now - but I'm getting ahead of myself.
On Triphorm's other side was an empty seat, which I guessed was Professor Darbus'. Next to it, and in the very centre of the table, was Professor Crighton's chair, which was also empty; but that was only because Crighton made her grand entrance after the Sorting was over. For some reason, I then decided to glance up at the enchanted ceiling, which looked like the sky outside, and I had never seen it looking as stormy as it did look that night. Black and purple clouds swirled across it, and as another thunderclap sounded outside, a fork of lightning flashed across it.
"Oh, hurry up," Chrissie moaned beside me. "I could eat a Hippogriff."
The words were no sooner out of her mouth than the doors of the Great Hall opened and silence fell. Professor Darbus led a line of first-years up to the top of the Hall. If Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I were wet, it was nothing to how the first-years looked. They appeared to have swam across the river, rather than taking the portal across it. All of them shivered with a combination of anticipation and nerves as they shuffled in twos between the Raven-Wings and Badger-Stripes tables, and came to a halt in a line facing the staff table; all of them, except the smallest of the lot, a girl with mousey hair, who was wrapped in what I recognised as Mina's beaver skin overcoat. The coat was so big for her that it looked as though she was draped in a furry brown marquee. Her small face protruded from over the collar, looking almost painfully excited. When she had lined up with her terrified-looking peers, she caught Colleen McCreevy's eye, gave a double thumbs-up and mouthed, "I fell in the river a second time before I crossed!" She looked positively delighted about it.
Professor Darbus placed a four-legged stool on the ground before the first-years, before she turned to face the rest of the school and shouted, "The Sorting Heads!"
Just like at my Sorting, one after another, four smoky heads came through the double doors, stopped right in front of the first-years and turned into animal heads: the first was a golden lion with a scarlet mane and eyes, the second, a blue raven with bronze eyes, the third a black badger head with a yellow stripe down the middle where the white stipe should be, and last but not least was the snake head, which was green with silver eyes and silver underneath. The rest of the school, along with Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I along with them applauded the Sorting Heads. The Sorting Heads bowed to us, before turning back to the teachers, leaving the rest of us looking at the red, blue, black-and-yellow and green backs of their heads.
"The Sorting Scroll, if you please," Professor Darbus said to the Sorting Heads. We all waited for a few moments, before the Lion-Head shook, and I could (and still can) imagine the mighty Lion-Head open its large mouth wide, and then saw the scroll float in mid-air, and watched as Professor Darbus caught it. She then went back to where the stool stood and faced the first-years again.
"When I call your name, you will come forth," she told the first years, "sit on the stool, and when one of the Sorting Heads announces your house, you will go and sit at the appropriate table.
"Adams, Shaunee!"
A girl walked forward, visibly trembling from head to foot, and sat on the stool. I could see her nervously looking up at the four Sorting Heads.
"CAW!" shouted the Raven-Head.
Shaunee Adams jumped off the stool and ran over to the Raven-Wings table, where everyone there applauded her. I caught a glimpse of Khan, the Raven-Wings Seeker, cheering Shaunee Adams as she sat down. For a fleeting second, I had a strange desire to join the Raven-Wings table, too.
Bagnall, Maisie!"
"HISS!" shouted the Snake-Head.
The table on the opposite side of the Hall erupted with cheers; I saw Malty and Rae-Bradley clapping as Bagnall joined the Snake-Eyes. I wondered whether Bagnall knew that Snake-Eyes house had turned out more Dark witches and wizards than any other. Tanya and Geri hissed Maisie Bagnall as she sat down.
"Brackenridge, Elliot!"
"SQUEAK!"
"Caulton, Ophelia!"
"SQUEAK!"
"Cureton, Dakota!"
"ROAR!" the Lion-Head roared for the first time.
Dakota Cureton came running over to the Lion-Heart table, just as Mina sidled into the Hall through a door behind the teachers' table. About twice as tall as a normal woman, and at least three times as broad, Mina, with her slick brown hair tied back in a tight bun and her eyes twinkling. Even though she was extremely tall and strong, Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I knew that she would never hurt a fly - well, unless someone got her really wound up, that is.
I looked back at the Sorting Heads, who were Sorting Ellis Dodkin.
The Sorting continued; boys and girls with varying degrees of fright on their faces moved, one by one, to the four-legged stool, the line dawdling slowly as Professor Darbus passed the L's.
"Oh, hurry up," Chrissie moaned, massaging her stomach.
"Now, Chrissie, the Sorting's much more important than food," said Madam Nicola, as "Magoo, Lucas" became a Badger-Stripes.
"Course it is, if you're dead," snapped Chris, who appeared to be just as hungry as Chrissie.
"I do hope that this year's bunch of Lion-Hearts are up to scratch," said Madam Nicola, applauding as "McCreevy, Denise" joined the Lion-Heart table and joined her sister. "We don't want to break our winning streak, do we?"
Lion-Heart house had won the House Cup for the past three years in a row, as Denise said to Colleen, "Colleen, I fell in! It was brilliant! And something in the water grabbed me and threw me back on land!"
"Cool!" said Colleen, just as excitedly. "It was probably the giant squid, Denise!"
"Wow!" said Denise, as though anyone in their wildest dreams could hope for more than being thrown into a storm-tossed, fathoms-deep river, and be pushed out of it again by a giant sea-monster.
"Denise! Denise! See that girl down there, Denise? The one with the golden hair? See her? Know who she is, Denise?"
I turned my head quickly back to the Sorting.
"Pridmore, Gethin!"
"HISS!"
"Quinn, Orla!"
"CAW!"
And finally, with "Whitney, Kaela" ("SQUEAK!"), the Sorting ended. Professor Darbus picked up the stool and carried them away, as the Sorting Heads separated to the four corners of the Hall. Professor Darbus soon took her place at the table, stood behind her chair and said, "Please welcome our Headmistress, Professor Susan Crighton!"
The four Sorting Heads zoomed to the middle of the Hall between the Raven-Wings and Badger-Stripes tables and spun around quickly, when suddenly, with a blinding flash of silver light, a tall, thin woman with waist-length caramel hair that was turning silver, which curled inwardly at the ends, who had a warm smile and twinkling emerald eyes, who was wearing robes of silver and her infamous silver phoenix pendant, that had emerald for its eyes and had emerald beads along the chain, spread her arms widely as the Sorting Heads disappeared, and said loudly, "Welcome one, and all, to Dragon Mort Magical Academy!"
Every student in the Hall - including myself - applauded and cheered as she took her place at the staff table. "About time," said Chrissie, once the applause and cheers had subsided, seizing her knife and fork, and looked rather expectantly at her plate, as her mother stood in front of her chair at the teachers' table.
"I have only two words to say to you," she told us, her voice echoing around the Hall. "Tuck in."
"Hear, hear!" Chris, Chrissie and I said loudly, as the empty dishes filled magically before our eyes.
Madam Nicola watched mournfully as Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I loaded our plates.
"Aaah, 'at's be'er," said Chris, with his mouth full of mashed potato.
"You're lucky there's a feast tonight at all, you know," said Madam Nicola. "There was trouble in the kitchens earlier."
I swallowed my food before I asked, "Why? What happened?"
"Weeves, of course," said Madam Nicola, shaking her head, which wobbled dangerously. She pulled her ruff a little higher up her neck. "The usual argument, you know. She wanted to attend the feast - well, it's quite out of the question, you know what she's like, utterly uncivilised, can't see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghost's council - the Fat Nun was all for giving her a chance - but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baroness put her foot down."
The Bloody Baroness was the Snake-Eyes ghost, a gaunt and silent spectre covered in silver blood stains. She was the only person at Dragon Mort who could control Weeves.
"Yeah, we thought Weeves seemed to be hacked off about something," said Chrissie darkly. "So what did she do in the kitchens?"
"Oh, the usual," said Madam Nicola, shrugging. "Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup. Terrified the house-elves out of their wits - "
Clang. Sian had knocked over her silver goblet. Pumpkin juice spread steadily over the tablecloth, staining several feet of white linen orange, but Sian paid no attention.
"There are house-elves here?" she said, staring horror-struck at Madam Nicola. "Here at Dragon Mort?"
"Certainly," said Madam Nicola, looking surprised at her reaction. "The largest number in almost any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred."
"I've never seen one!" said Sian.
"Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen, by day, do they?" said Madam Nicola. "They come out at night to do a bit of cleaning ... see to the fires and so on ... I mean, you're not supposed to see them, are you? That's the mark of a good house-elf, isn't it, that you don't know it's there?"
Sian stared at her.
"But they get paid?" she said. "They get holidays, don't they? And - and sick-leave and pensions and everything?"
Madam Nicola thought about this for a few moments before she answered, "Well, not at first, no. But I believe I heard a few years ago, that a Mrs Hermione Weasley, who went into the Ministry of Magic, started a movement that she originally started whilst she at school at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and took it with her when she went to the Ministry. At first, people were shocked by this movement, but slowly over the years, it's started to properly take off, and house-elves are currently getting their voices heard and their lives made better. Indeed, Sian, I believe your mother has started to be a part of it in recent years."
Sian thought about what Madam Nicola said for a few minutes, before she said, "Well, it's a start, I suppose." And she started eating again, but very little, so it seemed.
"Oh, c'mon, Sharn," said Chrissie, accidentally spraying me with bits of Yorkshire pudding. "Oops - sorry, 'Iara - " she swallowed. "You won't give them sick-leave by half-starving yourself."
"I know that Chrissie," Sian said, a determined look set on her face, "but I swear I will continue to make lives better for these poor creatures, even if it kills me!" And with that, she struck a big piece of chicken with her fork, and took a rather angry bite out of it. To my eyes, it almost looked like Sian had eaten the end of her fork as well, but as she pulled it out of her mouth, I saw that the fork was whole and intact.
The rain was still drumming heavily against the high, dark windows. Another clap of thunder shook the windows, and the stormy ceiling flashed, illuminating the silver plates as the remains of the first course vanished and were replaced, instantly, with the puddings.
Sian took to eating chocolate gateau almost as angrily as she had been eating her first course, glowering at her plate. Chris, Chrissie and I had experienced a few angry outbursts from Sian over the years, and we knew how she got when her temper reached boiling point, so we just let her be.
When the puddings, too, had been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean again, Susan Crighton got to her feet. The buzz of chatter that filled the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling of the wind and the pounding rain could be heard.
"So," said Crighton, smiling around at us all. "Now that we are all fed and watered" ("In a matter of speaking!" said Sian), "I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices.
"Mr Match, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle this year has 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 Match's office, if anybody would like to check it."
The corners of Crighton's mouth twitched.
She continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Dragsmede 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?" I gasped. I looked at Tanya and Geri, my then fellow members of the Lion-Heart Quidditch team. They were mouthing soundlessly at Crighton, apparently too appalled to speak.
Crighton continued, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and will be 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 Dragon Mort - "
But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder, and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.
A woman stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff and shrouded in a black travelling cloak. Every head - including mine - in the Great Hall swivelled towards the stranger, who was suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. She lowered her hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark grey hair, the tips standing on end, and then she began to walk up towards the teachers' table.
A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on her every other step. She reached the end of the top table, turned right and limped heavily towards Crighton. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Sian gasped.
The lightning had thrown her face into sharp relief (although looking at it, I'm not sure that relief is the right word to use), and it was unlike any face I had ever seen before or since. It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces were supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the woman's eyes that made her frightening.
Her two eyes on either side of her nose were both large, brilliant and black. But here's the thing - she had four other eyes, round as coins, that were vivid, electric blue, and were stuck all across her forehead. For a moment, I saw the one on the far left looking left, the second one looking up, the third looking down and the fourth looking right, before they all started moving, ceaselessly, without blinking, and were moving in different direction, each eye moving independently of its own accord, not following the others.
The stranger reached Crighton. She stretched out her hand that was as badly scarred as her face, and Crighton shook it, muttering words that I couldn't hear. She seemed to be making some enquiry to the stranger, who shook her head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone. Crighton nodded, and gestured the woman to the empty seat on her right-hand side.
The stranger sat down, shook her mane of dark grey hair out of her face, pulled a plate of sausages towards her, raised it to what was left of her nose and sniffed it. She then took a small knife out of her pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. Her normal eyes were fixed on the sausages, but the blue eyes were still darting restlessly around in their sockets, taking in the Hall and all of its students.
"May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," said Crighton brightly into the silence, "Professor Grumpy."
It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or we students clapped except for Crighton and Mina. Both put their hands together and applauded, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly. The rest of us were too transfixed by Grumpy's bizarre appearance to do more than stare at her.
"Grumpy?" I then muttered to Chrissie. "Crazy-Head Grumpy? The one your Dad went to help this morning?"
"Must be," said Chrissie, in a low, awed voice.
"What happened to her?" Sian whispered. "What happened to her face?"
"Dunno," Chris whispered back, he and Chrissie both watching Grumpy with fascination.
Grumpy seemed totally indifferent to her less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of her, she reached again into her travelling cloak, pulled out a hip-flask and took a long draught from it. As she lifted her arm to drink, her cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground, and I saw below the table several inches of a carved, wooden leg, which ended in a clawed foot.
Crighton cleared her throat.
"As I was saying," she said, smiling at the sea of students before her, and all of us, I might add, were still gazing transfixed at Crazy-Head Grumpy, "we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event which has not been held for over thirteen years. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that, despite what some people have been saying, the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place this year."
Some people were excited at this idea; others, like Sian, were shocked. I, who had known nothing of this Tournament until that moment, stayed silent, but Tanya, who took her excitement to a whole new level, said loudly, "YOU'RE JOKING!"
"I am not joking, Tanya," she said, "although, now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about an imp, a pixie and a leprechaun who all go into a bar - "
Professor Darbus cleared her throat loudly.
"Er - but maybe this is not the time ... no ..." said Crighton. "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."
"Death toll?" Sian whispered, looking alarmed. But her anxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of our fellow students in the Hall; many of them around us were whispering excitedly with each other, and even I at this point was far more interested in hearing more about the Tournament than in worrying about deaths that happened years ago.
"There had been several attempts to bring it back over the centuries, and finally, Hogwarts succeeded back in 1994. Now, I know," said Crighton, speaking slowly and steadily, "that many of you here know what happened that year, and the consequences that resulted from Harry Potter's involvement in it ... but I assure you that this time round, we are more prepared than ever. Our own Departments of International Magical Co-operation and Magical Games and Sports have decided that the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find themselves in mortal danger." (Kind of ironic, but we'll get to that.)
"The heads of Beauxbatons and Uagadou - not Durmstrang this time - will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at 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."
"I'm going for it!" Tanya Fang hissed down the table, her face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. She was not the only person who seemed to be visualising themselves as Dragon Mort champion. At every table, I saw people either gazing raptly at Crighton, or else whispering fervently to their neighbours. But then Crighton spoke again, and the Hall quietened once more.
"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Dragon Mort," she said, "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 - " Crighton raised her voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Fang twins suddenly looked furious - "is a measure that we feel is necessary, given that the Tournament tasks will 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 Dragon Mort champion." Her emerald eyes twinkled as they flickered over Tanya and Geri's mutinous faces. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen.
"As I said before, the delegations from Beauxbatons and Uagadou will be arriving in October, and will be remaining with us for the greater part of the 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 Dragon Mort champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and even though it is Saturday, lessons will begin on Monday, so I suggest that you all get enough rest before we start filling your precious minds with knowledge. Bedtime! Chop, chop!"
Crighton sat down again and turned to talk to Crazy-Head Grumpy. There was a great scraping and banging as the students around us got to their feet, and most of them started swarming towards the double doors that led to the Entrance Hall.
"They can't do that!" said Geri Fang, who had not joined the crowd that moved towards the doors, but was instead standing up and glaring at Crighton. "We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a go?"
"They're not stopping me entering," said Tanya stubbornly, also glowering at her aunt. "The champions'll get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money!"
"Yeah," said Chrissie, a faraway look in her eyes. "Yeah, a thousand Galleons ..."
"And eternal glory," Chris added.
"Come on," said Sian, "we'll be the only ones left here if we all don't start moving."
Chris, Sian, Chrissie, Tanya, Geri and I set off for the Entrance Hall, Tanya and Geri debating the ways in which Crighton might stop those who were underage from entering the Tournament.
"Who's this impartial judge who's going to decide who the champions are?" I said.
"Dunno," said Tanya, "but it's them we'll have to fool. I reckon a couple of drops of Aging Potion might just do it, Geri ..."
"Ma knows you're not of age, though," said Chrissie.
"Yeah, but she's not the one who gets to decide who the champion's going to be, is she?" said Tanya shrewdly. "Sounds to me like once this judge knows who wants to enter, they'll choose the best from each school and won't care about how old they are. Aunt Sue's trying to stop us giving our names."
"People have died, though!" said Sian in a worried voice, as we walked through a door concealed behind a tapestry, and started up another, narrower staircase. "I mean, do you remember what happened last time?"
"Yeah," said Tanya impatiently, "but that was years ago, wasn't it? Anyway, where's the fun without a little risk? Hey, Chris, Chrissie, what if we found out how to get around Aunt Sue? Fancy entering?"
Chrissie was about to answer, but Sian, being her eldest sister, practically yelled, "You two may want to go for it, but I will not stand by and watch you two try to put my family in danger! So don't you dare try and talk them into it again, or there'll be hell to pay if you do!" This ended that discussion, and we all proceeded to the Lion-Heart common room again, when Chrissie got her foot stuck in a trick step halfway up the stairs, which older students always remembered to jump. Chris and I seized her under the armpits and pulled her out, while a suit of armour at the top of the stairs creaked and clanked, laughing wheezily.
"Shut it, you," said Chris, banging down on its visor as we passed.
We made our way up to the entrance of Lion-Heart Tower, which was concealed behind a large portrait of a Fat Lord in blue robes.
"Password?" he said, as we approached.
"Balderdash," said Geri, "a Prefect downstairs told me."
The portrait swung forwards to reveal a hole in the wall, through which we all climbed. A crackling fire warmed the circular common room, which was full of squashy armchairs and tables. Sian cast the merrily dancing flames a dark look, and I distinctly remember her mutter "slave labour", before she, Chrissie, Tanya, Geri and I bid Chris goodnight before he disappeared through the door to the boys' dormitories, as we went through the door to the girls'.
Sian, Chrissie, Tanya, Geri and I climbed up the last, spiral staircase, bid Tanya and Geri goodnight when they realised their dormitory, and the three of us remained kept walking to our special dormitory, where six four-poster beds with coral hangings stood against the walls, each with its owner's trunk at the foot. Beth, Kestrel and Merida were already getting ready for bed, so Sian, Chrissie and I decided to do the same thing, too.
Once we had all changed into our pyjamas and got into bed, I noticed that someone - a house-elf, no doubt - had placed warming pans beneath the sheets. It was extremely comfortable, lying there in a warm bed, as the coldness of the storm raged on outside.
"I might go for it, you know," Chrissie said sleepily through the darkness, "if Tanya and Geri find out how to ... the Tournament ... you never know, do you?"
"I heard that!" Sian murmured, though loud enough for us to hear, which shut us up immediately. I then rolled over in bed, as a series of dazzling new pictures formed in my mind's eye ... I had miraculously hoodwinked the impartial judge into believing I was seventeen ... I had become the champion for Dragon Mort ... I was standing in the grounds, my arms raised in triumph in front of the whole school, all of whom were applauding and screaming ... I had just won the Triwizard Tournament ... Khan's face stood out particularly clearly in the blurred crowd, his face glowing with admiration ...
I remember at that moment that I grinned like an idiot into my pillow, trying to stifle my giggles, and extremely glad that neither Chrissie nor Sian could see inside my head. My God, what a fool I was! And how ignorant I was of the rather ironic (ironic as I see those thoughts now) dreams that passed through my head back then.
0000
A.N.: Thanks to all who are reading this so far. I hope you are enjoying it. There's still lots more to come. Oh, and thank you to Laterose Wildlough for favouriting & following my work. It's much appreciated. Thank you.
