Glad you all liked the last chapter! And now...we move forward...to THE GOBLET OF FIRE.
Minor Spoiler: There's a twist coming up! All I'm gonna say is it involves family from quite a while ago, and not in this story...
I was going through and updating some chapters, apologies for the mishaps! I went back through and replaced any mistakes with the right chapters.
Anyway, enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Harry Potter
Gabriel's summer was fairly boring, even having spent it with Balthazar.
He'd sent off a letter from Diagon Alley in July, after discovering the address of the Ministry of Magic, and written it to 'whoever runs the justice department around there', inquiring whether the Minster seriously intended to pretend that he'd never discovered that Sirius Black had never been given a trial.
This was not out of any sort of presumed bond with Sirius, but rather, Gabriel hadn't done anything remotely Trickster-like in ages and was incredibly bored.
The hastily-written letter he got back several weeks later from someone named Madam Bones, plus the included copy of the newspaper announcing the judicial mistake, made it all worth it.
[Unfortunately, Fudge had managed to retain his position as Minister by blaming the mishap on his predecessor].
Sirius sent a letter as well in late August, letting Gabriel know that he'd been cleared of all charges once they had bothered to use some Veritaserum on him. Gabriel had no idea what Veritaserum was, but he did speak Latin, which was enough to figure out it's general use.
There was also an offer to come visit, which Gabriel declined. Sirius was sure to have questions, and he didn't intend to let anyone else know about the whole angel thing.
Especially not someone he'd met less than a year ago.
There were still two weeks left in summer break when the invitation arrived.
The owl which carried it had arrived bedraggled and supported by two others, one of which carried a Hogwarts letter and the other one from Michael [who was forwarding one from Hermione].
The invitation was from Ron, and it was to some sort of event called the Quidditch World Cup. He'd included a PS ['I don't know if you like that kind of stuff but you're welcome to come - Dad's got extra tickets from work, Hermione will be there too'] and since Michael was apparently going as well, Gabriel was seriously wondering whether to stifle his dislike of Quidditch and accept.
"What's that?"
"It's none of your business Balthazar."
"Why are there owls on the table."
"How many times do I have to explain that it's how wizards send letters?"
Gabriel ended up declining. Seeing Michael and Hermione wasn't enough to make up for sitting through what could potentially be a twenty-four-hour match, and the letter he wrote back said exactly that.
Besides, he'd see them when school started anyway.
"Who was at the world cup?"
"Death Eaters," Hermione repeated. She and Gabriel were sitting opposite each other in a compartment on the Hogwarts express, which also held Michael, Ron, and Draco [who had shown up again].
"Why on Earth were they at the world cup?" Gabriel asked incredulously, holding the newspaper Hermione had handed him. The front page featured a picture of an eerie green skull hanging over what must have been the stadium, a snake winding under and through it. Gabriel recognized it from the newspapers about Death Eaters he'd shifted through in first year.
"I've no idea," Hermione shrugged.
"Are you alright?"
"We're fine," Michael said. "Good thing you didn't come, huh?"
"No, I should've. If I'd known this was going to happen-"
"It's fine." Ron said. "We weren't hurt - and anyway they scarpered as soon as the mark went up."
Gabriel frowned. "They ran when their own mark went up? That doesn't make sense."
"I suppose not." Hermione shrugged again. "But we've got no way of knowing what happened. And do you know what else? They blamed a house-elf!"
"They blamed a what?"
"Crouch's house-elf," Michael explained. "They found her with a wand a couple feet away. I mean, obviously she didn't put it up, but Crouch still sacked her."
"Who's Crouch?"
"Some Ministry official."
"He works for the DMLE," Ron elaborated. "Department of Magical Law Enforcement," he added when everyone but Draco and Michael looked at him blankly.
Gabriel snorted as he tossed the newspaper down. "And they didn't have anyone there in case something went wrong?"
Ron frowned. "You're saying they should have expected it?"
"I'm saying there were, what, a thousand wizards in the same place and there were no authority figures to do crowd control? Muggles know better than that."
"He has a point," Hermione said, glancing over at Draco. "What do you think?"
It took Malfoy a minute to realize he was being addressed. "Wh - about the DMLE already being there?"
"Yeah," Michael said. "It would've helped a lot."
Draco seemed uncomfortable. "I suppose it would have."
Ron scowled. "I bet you were glad they weren't, though."
"Ron-"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Draco snapped.
"It means your dad-"
"Enough!" Gabriel put a hand over Ron's mouth and held up the other towards Draco. "I'm not going to sit here and listen to you two argue. Boo hoo, your fathers don't get along, get over it."
There was a moment of very tense silence as Draco and Ron glared at each other. Then, abruptly, Draco looked away.
Gabriel took his hand off Ron's mouth.
"So what do you think of this year's event?" Draco asked out of the blue, most likely trying to change the topic.
Hermione looked nonplussed. "What event?"
"You mean you don't know?" Draco looked genuinely surprised.
"What is going on this year?" Ron asked irritably. "Charlie and Bill wouldn't tell anyone!"
"It's the Triwizard Tournament!"
"The what now?" Gabriel asked in confusion.
"The triwizard tournament," Draco repeated, looking around. Michael and Ron traded what is he talking about looks. Even Hermione looked curious. "Don't tell me none of you have ever heard of it!"
"Alright, we won't." Gabriel leaned forward. "What is it?"
Draco looked like he was sorely tempted to roll his eyes. "Well, it's a tournament, obviously - Hogwarts is hosting this year, and two other schools will be visiting. Each school submits a champion, and then there are a couple tasks that the champions compete in to see who wins the tournament - a cash prize and a trophy."
"Wow." Ron looked impressed.
"What other schools?" Hermione asked. "I was never sure how many there were-"
"There are eleven. Beauxbatons - that's the French school - are probably coming, since they're so close, and I think Father said that the third school was going to be Durmstrang." Draco seemed to be enjoying his temporary status as being the most knowledgeable about something.
"Isn't that a northern school?" Michael looked like he was trying to remember something he'd learned a long time ago. "Up in the scandanavian countries or something."
"I've no idea. Father wanted to send me there originally, but I ended up coming here, obviously." Draco cleared his throat. "Do you think you'd enter?"
"Maybe," said Ron. "Sounds pretty good - cash prize and all."
"I don't know." Hermione petted Crookshanks absentmindedly. "Maybe. It would depend what these tasks were, of course."
Michael glanced over at Gabriel. "What do you think?"
"Doesn't sound very interesting." Draco looked incredulous at that.
"Not interesting?" Draco said disbelievingly. Gabriel shrugged.
"I just don't think I'd enter myself." He paused. "Is there a rule that you have to enter yourself?"
"I've got no idea. Probably not."
"Excellent."
There seemed to be more empty seats than usual at the staff table that year. From his place at the Ravenclaw table, Gabriel saw that Hagrid was missing [most likely leading the first years across the lake, and in this weather at that] and McGonagall was also gone - again, the first years.
Professor Lupin was nowhere to be seen, since he'd resigned last year, so there had to be a new teacher. But there were no new faces at the table, so either something had gone wrong or they were very late.
Lightning flashed across the roof of the hall, followed almost immediately by a clap of thunder that sounded like someone was throwing a huge temper tantrum upstairs and directly over Hogwarts. The doors at the end of the hall opened to receive a line of bedraggled first-years, who all looked completely soaked. One of them was wearing Hagrid's enormous coat, and looked to be the smallest, though this might have been the contradictory size of the coat.
The Sorting Hat broke into its new song, which Gabriel completely ignored in favor of frowning up at the sky. That was two years in a row that horrible weather had greeted them on the first day back. This year it was worse than ever. And while Gabriel didn't like to fiddle with fortune-telling, he couldn't help but feel that it was a little ominous.
Once everyone had found a House and sat down, Dumbledore smiled widely.
"I have only two words to say to you," he announced. "Tuck in."
Food appeared on the plates in front of them, the hall suddenly filling with the smell of it. Michael watched curiously as Gabriel served himself.
"Do you really need it?" Ne asked quietly among the chatter surrounding them. Gabriel shook his head.
"I didn't think it would be good to just eat nothing at meals, though, and I'm not letting everyone in on it."
"Makes sense."
Dinner disappeared quickly, and was replaced almost instantly with dessert. When they too vanished [unfortunately] Dumbledore got to his feet. Any talk immediately ceased, everyone looking up towards the staff table.
"So! Now that we are all fed and watered, I have a few start-of-term announcements to give out!" Dumbledore was smiling genially, which seemed to be his default expression.
"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to remind you that the list of forbidden objects has been extended this year to include Screaming Yo-Yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list, which is made up of some four hundred and thirty-seven objects-" Gabriel immediately resolved to find that list, if only to see how there could be over four hundred objects on it. "-can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it." Where was the caretaker's office again?
"As ever, I would like to remind you that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds, 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?!"
"Michael sit down!" Gabriel pulled Michael back into nir seat. Michael still looked outraged.
"They can't do that!" The majority of the students seemed to agree with Michael, muttering not entirely complimentary things about the decision.
Dumbledore continued over the sudden, outraged swell of noise. "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teacher's time and energy - but I am sure you all will enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year, Hogwarts-"
At that exact moment, there was a deafening clap of thunder, and the doors to the hall swung open with a bang.
There was a man silhouetted in the doorway, wearing a long coat and leaning on a staff. As lightning flashed across the ceiling, he stepped forward into the hall, walking with purpose towards the staff table, a dull clunk sounding with every other step.
When he reached Dumbledore, he and the headmaster spoke quietly for a moment before the man took the only empty seat at the table.
"Our new Defense professor," Dumbledore said, the words echoing in the absolute silence of the hall, "Professor Moody." Only he and Hagrid clapped, and even then the scant applause died out quickly.
"Moody?" Michael whispered. "As in, Mad-Eye Moody?"
Well, that nickname was obvious enough. Moody had a fake eye, large and electric blue, and it moved around completely independent of his real one.
"As I was saying," Dumbledore continued, "This year, Hogwarts has the honor of hosting the Triwizard Tournament."
"You're joking!" Someone said loudly from the Gryffindor table. There was a smattering of laughter.
"I am not," Dumbledore said. "Though I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a banshee all walking into a bar...but perhaps now is not the time," he said hurriedly as McGonagall glared at the headmaster from her seat next to him. "Where was I...oh yes, the Triwizard Tournament. Some of you may not know what this entails, so I hope those of you who do will forgive me for a short explanation.
"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools; Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. Each school had a champion selected to represent them, and the three champions competed in three tasks. The schools took it in turns to host, and for many years it was agreed that it was an excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different countries - that is, until the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."
Surprisingly, very few people seemed put off by the idea of a large death toll.
Dumbledore cleared his throat and the hall silenced itself again. "There have been several attempts to restart it over the years, most of which have been unsuccessful. However, our own Department of 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 be facing down mortal danger.
"The Heads and students of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October, and the selections of the three champions will take place on Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are worthy to compete for the Triwizard cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."
"A thousand Galleons?" Michael looked awestruck. "That's ridiculous!"
Dumbledore raised his hands to quiet the sudden spate of whispering. "Though I know all of you are eager to bring Hogwarts the Triwizard cup," he said, "The Heads of the competing schools, as well as the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to pose an age limit on those contending. That is to say, only those who are of age - seventeen years or older - may compete.
"This-" Dumbledore had to raise his voice to speak over the sudden swell of outraged muttering, "-Is something we feel is necessary, given that despite our precautions the tasks will still be difficult and rather dangerous. I find it highly unlikely that any student under sixth year will have the knowledge needed to succeed. I will personally be ensuring that no underage students will be able to hoodwink our impartial judge into making them champion."
Dumbledore's eyes flashed over the audience. "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 the year. I know you will all extend every courtesy to our guests while they are here, and give your whole-hearted support to whoever is selected as Hogwarts champion. Now! It is late, and I expect you are all ready for bed. To your dorms! Chop chop!"
There was a great scraping of chairs and an explosion of talk, as everyone stood up and began chatting with their neighbors at once.
"An age limit," Michael snorted. "Of course."
"You weren't seriously going to try and compete, were you?" Gabriel shot nir a look. "Death toll?"
"I heard Dumbledore too, Harry." Michael replied. "I just thought it would be cool - and a thousand Galleons, come on."
"What do you need that much money for?"
The Ravenclaws as a group chattered excitedly as they were led up to the dorms, and even when everyone had gone up to the dorms they were still talking. Anthony and whoever had the bed next to him were having a hushed conversation about whether they'd be able to get over the age limit.
"The judge can't be that hard to fool-"
"Go to sleep, you idiots." Gabriel tossed the nearest pillow not underneath his head at them.
Tournament or no, he was getting some sleep because damnit his Grace still hadn't changed at all, and Gabriel was going to figure out the answer to that problem whatever it took.
I'm sorry about how short this chapter is! I wanted to write more but I couldn't add anything without making it overinflated, and that really was the best place to end it.
Read and review!