The Triwizard Tournament

The carriages made their way through the gates, which were flanked with statues of winged boars, and went up the sweeping drive, swaying dangerously in what became a gale.

Arthur leaned against a window and was able to see Hogwarts drawing nearer with its many lit windows blurring and shimmering behind a thick curtain of rain.

Lightning flashed the sky as their carriage came to a halt before large oak front trees, which were at the top of a flight of stone steps. People that occupied the carriages in front were hurrying up the stone steps into the castle.

The trio and Mike all jumped down from their carriage and dashed their way up the steps too, looking up they were all finally safely inside the cavernous, torch lit Entrance Hall, with the truly magnificent marble staircase.

"At this rate, the lake might end up overflowing. I'm so - HEY!"

A large, red water filled balloon dropped from the ceiling and onto David's head, exploding, leaving him drenched and spluttering as he staggered sideways into Arthur, right as another water bomb dropped, narrowly missing Chrys and Mike, bursting at Arthur's feet, sending a wave of cold water to drench his trainers and socks.

People all around them shrieked and pushed each other to try and get out of the line of fire. Arthur looked up and saw that floating twenty feet above them was Peeves the poltergeist, a little man with a bell-covered hat and an orange bow tie. He had a wide and malicious face that contorted with concentration as he took aim once more.

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

It was Professor McGonagall, deputy headmistress and Head of Gryffindor house as she dashed out of the Great Hall, but she skidded on the wet floor and ended up grabbing Chrys around her neck to stop herself from falling. "Ouch - sorry, Miss Ranger -"

"No problem, Professor." Chrys shrugged off as she massaged her throat.

"Peeves, get down here NOW!" McGonagall barked, straightening her pointed hat and glaring up at him through her square rimmed spectacles.

"Not doing anything!" Peeves cackled as he lobbed a water bomb at some fifth year girls, who all screamed and dived into the Great Hall. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeee!" He then aimed another bomb at a group of second years that just arrived.

"I shall call the Headmaster!" McGonagall shouted. "I'm warning you, Peeves -"

The poltergeist stuck his tongue out before throwing the last of his water bombs into the air and zooming off up the marble staircase, cackling like a psychopath.

"Well, move along, then!" McGonagall said sharply to the crowd. "Into the Great Hall, come on!"

The trio all slipped and slid across the Entrance Hall and through the double doors to the right, David wringing water out of his hair.

The Great Hall was in its usual splendour, decorated for the start of term feast. Many golden plates and goblets all gleamed by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles that floated over the table in mid air. All four long house tables were packed with chattering students and at the top of the Hall sat the staff along one side of a fifth table that faced all the students.

Arthur was glad at how warm it was in here as he, David and Chrys walked past the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs as they sat on the side of the Gryffindor table that was directly next to the Hufflepuff table, next to Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost. He was pearly white and semi transparent and dressed tonight in his usual doublet, with a large ruff, which served the dual purpose of looking extra festive and so that his head doesn't wobble too much on his partially severed neck.

"Good evening." He beamed at them.

"Not really, thanks to the current weather." Arthur said as he took his trainers off and emptied them of water. "I just hope the Sorting doesn't take too long, I'm hungry."

The Sorting is when new students are placed into each of the four houses and it took place at the start of every school year, but due to some circumstances for the last two school years, he was never present for any of them since his own. He was naturally curious.

But then a highly excited and breathless voice called down the table. "Hiya, Arthur!"

It was the most annoying Gryffindor at Hogwarts in Arthur's opinion, Colin Creevey, a third year that viewed Arthur as some saint.

"Hi, Colin." He greeted him warily.

"Arthur, guess what? Guess what, Arthur? My brother's starting! My brother, Dennis!"

"Great." Arthur said, barely able to hide how things will end up being more unbearable with two Creeveys.

"He's really excited!" Colin said, pretty much bouncing up and down in his seat. "I just hope he's in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Arthur?"

"I just hope he ends up in Hufflepuff." Arthur muttered to David and Chrys.

"There's a chance. Parvati's twin, Padma, is in Ravenclaw, and they're identical, to the point that one would think they'd be together." Chrys replied.

Arthur then looked up at the staff table. There seemed to be more empty seats than there should be. Hagrid was missing, which made sense because he was taking the first years across the lake, McGonagall was more than likely supervising the drying of the Entrance Hall, though there was another empty chair, and he realised what that meant.

"Where's our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Chrys asked the question before he could. The school is yet to have a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher that lasted more than one school year. The best in Arthur's opinion was Lupin, who resigned last year.

Arthur then remembered what Amos said in the morning and it clicked.

"I think it's Moody, remember what Amos said about him starting a new job today, it makes sense." He said to David and Chrys, whose eyes widened as he just might be right.

Arthur then continued looking down the staff table, seeing the tiny Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher and Head of Ravenclaw house, who sat on a large pile of cushions beside Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher and Head of Hufflepuff house, whose hat was askew over her flyaway grey hair. She was in the middle of talking with Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department. On the other side of Sinistra was the sallow faced, hook nosed, greasy haired Potions master and Head of Slytherin house, Snape.

Snape was, without question, Arthur's least favourite person in the world. His utter contempt and rage at Snape rivals that of Snape's hatred towards him, one that intensified at the end of his third school year, because Arthur helped Sirius escape from under Snape's stupidly large nose and disgustingly greasy hair. Snape and Sirius have been enemies ever since they were schoolboys.

On the other side of Snape was an empty seat, which was McGonagall's and next to that was the very centre of the table, where Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster, sat. His sweeping silver hair and beard shone in the candlelight as he wore magnificent deep green robes that were embroidered with many stars and moons. And the tips of his long, thin fingers linked together and rested his chin upon them, staring up at the ceiling through his half moon spectacles, like he was in his thoughts.

Arthur looked up at the ceiling, still in awe of how it was enchanted to look like the sky outside, and he had never seen it be this stormy before. There were black and purple clouds swirling across and as another thunderclap was heard outside, a fork of lightning flashed across it.

"At this rate, I could eat a Hippogriff if they don't hurry up." David whined.

Right as he finished that sentence, the doors of the Great Hall opened up and silence fell throughout. McGonagall led a long line of first years up to the top of the Hall.

The trio may have been wet, but they seemed dry in comparison to the first years. They looked as though they swam across the lake instead of sailing. They all shivered from a combo of the cold and nerves as they filed along the staff table and came to a halt in a line, facing the rest of the school, except for the smallest of them, a boy with mousy hair, who was wrapped in what had to be Hagrid's moleskin overcoat. The coat was definitely too big as he looked like he was draped in a furry black marquee. His small face protruded from over the collar and looked painfully excited.

As he lined up with his terrified peers, he caught Colin's eye, giving him a double thumbs up and mouthing "I fell in the lake!" He seemed delighted about it, which struck Arthur as odd as he realised that this was Colin's brother, Dennis.

McGonagall now placed a three legged stool on the ground before the first years and, on top of it, a really old and dirty and patched wizard's hat. The first years all stared at it, as did everyone else.

At first, there was silence, but then a tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth and the hat broke into song:

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 fen.

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!

The entire Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished.

Arthur was shocked to learn that the Hat actually belonged to his ancestor, Godric Gryffindor, himself. Though it now explains why Arthur was able to get the sword of Gryffindor from the Hat when he fought against the Basilisk in his second year.

"That wasn't the song it sang when it sorted us." He then noted as he clapped along with everyone else.

"It sings a different song each year." David explained. "It has to be a boring life, being a hat. It must spend all year thinking up the next one."

McGonagall then unrolled a large scroll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the Hat and sit on the stool." She told the first years. "When the Hat announces your house, you will go and sit at the appropriate table."

"Ackerly, Stewart!"

A boy stepped forward, trembling from head to foot before picking up the Sorting Hat and put it on as he sat on the stool.

"Ravenclaw!" The Hat shouted.

Stewart Ackerley took the hat off and hurried to a seat at the Ravenclaw table, where everyone applauded for him. Arthur was able to catch a glimpse of Cho, the Ravenclaw Seeker, cheering Stewart as he sat down.

"Baddock, Malcolm!"

"Slytherin!"

The table on the other side of the Ravenclaws erupted with cheers. Arthur saw Draco clapping as Baddock joined the Slytherins. He was wondering if the boy even knew that Slytherin turned out more dark wizards and witches than any other. Both Jack and Kevin hissed at the boy as he sat down.

"Branstone, Eleanor!"

"Hufflepuff!"

"Caudwell, Owen!"

"Hufflepuff!"

"Creevey, Dennis!"

Tiny Dennis Creevey staggered forward, tripping over Hagrid's moleskin, as Hagrid himself sidled into the Hall through a door behind the teachers' table. He was twice as tall as a normal man and roughly three times as broad. He also had long, wild, tangled black hair and a beard, looking a bit alarmed, which struck the trio as odd as they knew he possessed a kind nature.

He winked at them as he sat at the end of the table, watching Dennis put on the Sorting Hat.

"Gryffindor!"

Hagrid clapped along with the Gryffindor table as Dennis beamed widely, taking the Hat off and placing it on the stool before hurrying to join his brother.

"Colin, I fell in!" He said shrilly, throwing himself into an empty seat. "It was brilliant! And something in the water grabbed me and pushed me back in the boat!"

"Cool!" Colin said excitedly. "It was probably the giant squid, Dennis!"

"Wow!" Dennis said, like nobody in their wildest dreams could for something like that to happen to them.

"Dennis! Dennis! See that boy down there? The one with the black hair and green eyes? See him? Know who he is, Dennis?"

Arthur looked away, staring right at the Sorting Hat as it was sorting Emma Dobbs.

The Sorting continued on, various boys and girls of different levels of fright, one by one, got to the stool and the line was dwindling slowly as McGonagall was currently on the 'L's.

"Why can't this be quicker?" David moaned, resting his head on his arm on the table.

"Now, David, the Sorting's much more important than food." Nick said as Laura Madley was sorted into Hufflepuff.

"Of course you'd say that, you're dead." David snapped back at him, he's cranky when he's hungry.

"I do hope this year's batch of Gryffindors are up to scratch." Nick said as he applauded over Natalie McDonald joining the Gryffindor table. "We don't want to break our winning streak, do we?"

Of course, he was referring to the fact that Gryffindor had won the Inter-House Championship for the last three years in a row.

"Pritchard, Graham!"

"Slytherin!"

"Quirke, Orla!"

"Ravenclaw!"

And then finally, with "Whitby, Kevin!" ("Hufflepuff!") the Sorting was over. McGonagall then packed the Hat up and the stool, carrying them away.

"Finally." David said as he grabbed his knife and fork, looking right at his golden plate.

Dumbledore got to his feet and smiled around at the students, arms wide in welcome.

"I have only two words to say to you." He said, his voice echoing around the Hall. "Tuck in."

"Hear, hear!" Both Arthur and David said in unison as the empty dishes all filled magically before their eyes.

Nick watched mournfully as the trio all loaded their plates.

David moaned in bliss as he stuffed his mouth with mashed potatoes. Arthur forced a slice of chicken in his mouth.

"You're lucky there's a feast at all tonight, you know." Nick said to them. "There was trouble in the kitchen earlier."

"What happened?" Arthur asked before he stuffed some chips in after dipping them in ketchup.

"Peeves, of course." Nick replied as he shook his head, which wobbled dangerously. He then pulled his ruff a bit higher up his neck. "The usual argument, you know. He wanted to attend the feast, well, it's quite out of the question, you know what he's like, utterly uncivilised, can't see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghosts' council - the Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance, but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down."

He was referring to the Slytherin ghost. The Bloody Baron is a gaunt and silent spectre covered in silver bloodstains. He's also the only person at Hogwarts that can control Peeves.

"It did seem like Peeves was hacked off about something." David noted with a dark expression. "What did he do in the kitchen?"

"Oh, the usual." Nick shrugged. "Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup. Terrified the house elves out of their wits."

"Wait, there's actually house elves here at Hogwarts?" Chrys asked, both curious and shocked.

"Certainly." Nick said. "The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred."

"How come we've never seen one before?" She then asked.

"Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they? 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?"

"Do they like working here?" Chrys then questioned.

"Of course, they love to work." Nick replied.

"Huh." She then said before she continued eating along with everyone else.

This might even explain how the food disappears and reappears. That the elves transport the food to the tables.

The rain still drummed heavily against the high and dark windows. Another clap of thunder shook them as well as the stormy ceiling flashed, illuminating the golden plates as what was left of the first course vanished and was instantly replaced with puddings.

Arthur instantly went for both the treacle tart and rice pudding, moaning from how delicious they were.

Eventually, when the puddings had been demolished and the last crumbs all faded off the plates, leaving them completely clean, Dumbledore got to his feet once more. All chatter ended, leaving the howling wind and pounding rain to be all that can be heard.

"So!" Dumbledore said as he smiled down at everyone. "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, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to including Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees and Ever Basking 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."

The corners of his mouth twitched before continuing.

"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 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?" Arthur gasped, looking over at Jack and Kevin, who were also members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. All three looked as though Christmas was cancelled.

"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 -"

Suddenly, a deafening rumble of thunder rang as the doors of the Great Hall banged open.

There stood a man in the doorway, leaning on a long staff, shrouded in a black travelling cloak. Every single head in the Great Hall all looked at the stranger, who was suddenly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed upon the ceiling. He then lowered his hood and shook out a mane of grizzled, dark grey hair before walking up towards the teachers' table.

A dull clunk echoed through the Hall with every other step. He then reached the end of the top table, turned right and limped heavily towards Dumbledore. When another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling, Chrys gasped.

The lightning gave a good look at the man's face and it was so unlike any Arthur had seen. It was like it was carved out of weathered wood by someone who had the most vague understanding of how a human face is supposed to look and wasn't at all skilled with a chisel. Every single inch of skin was scarred, the mouth looked like some diagonal gash and a large chunk of his nose was missing. But the man's eyes are what made him seem frightening.

One was small, dark and beady, while the other was large, as round as a coin and was a vivid, electric blue. It was moving ceaselessly without blinking and rolled up and down, as well as side to side, very independent in comparison to the normal eye. It then rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, leaving only pure whiteness.

The stranger reached Dumbledore, stretching out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face and Dumbledore shook it, muttering something Arthur couldn't hear. Arthur suspected that it must be Moody as Dumbledore was making an enquiry of some kind to the stranger, who shook his head unsmiling and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured for the man to sit at the empty seat on his right side.

He then sat down and shook his mane of dark grey hair out of his face and pulled a plate of sausages towards him. He raised it to what remained of his nose and sniffed before taking a small knife out from his pocket, spearing a sausage on the end of it and started eating.

While his normal eye was fixed on the sausages, his blue eye still darted restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students.

"May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher…" Dumbledore said brightly. "...Professor Moody." It seemed Arthur was correct.

It was normal for new staff members to be greeted with applause, yet none of the students or staff clapped except for Dumbledore and Hagrid. Both of them put their hands together and applauded, though the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and stopped pretty quickly. Everyone was just transfixed by Moody's odd appearance that they only stared at him.

"What happened to his face?" Chrys asked.

"Most likely results of his work as an Auror." Arthur guessed.

It seemed that Moody was indifferent to his not warm welcome. He even ignored the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, reaching into his travelling cloak and pulled out a hip flask, taking a long draught from it. As he lifted his arm to drink, his cloak pulled up a few inches from the ground, allowing Arthur to glimpse under the table and see that there was a metal foot, probably a leg replacement.

Dumbledore then cleared his throat again.

"As I was saying…" He said, smiling at all the students who were all still gazing at Moody. "...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 a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"YOU MUST BE JOKING!" Jack Merlon said loudly in utter disbelief.

This broke all tension as nearly everyone, even Dumbledore, laughed.

"I am not joking, Mr Merlon…" Dumbledore said. "...though, now 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, like she tried to get him back on topic.

"Er - but maybe this is not the time… no…." Dumbledore said. "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 is selected to represent each school and the three champions compete in three magical tasks. The schools took in turn 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?" Chrys whispered with some concern while the rest of the Hall seemed to be whispering excitedly. Arthur himself found that he was very excited about this Tournament, regardless of the death toll.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the Tournament…" Dumbledore continued. "...none of which have 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 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 just might go for it." Jack hissed down the table, liking the idea of bringing glory to Hogwarts. Of course, he and his family are already rich, so the money wasn't on his mind.

Naturally, everyone else seemed to be imagining themselves as the Hogwarts champion at all the other tables.

Dumbledore then spoke, quieting everyone down.

"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 -" Dumbledore had raise his voice slightly as several people were outraged and let it known, even the twins were a bit mad. " - 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." His eyes twinkled as they flickered towards Jack and Kevin, who looked like they were cooking up something. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen."

Arthur knew that the twins had no chance. It was Dumbledore they're trying to trick, he's so smart and all knowing that no one can mess with him.

"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 wholehearted 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!"

Dumbleodre sat back down and turned to talk to Moody.

There was a loud scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet, swarming towards the double doors to the Entrance Hall.

"I don't care what he does, I'm gonna try and get my name in, even with our birthday being in April." Kevin said.

"Come on, let's go." Chrys said as she, Arthur, David and the twins were among the last to leave the Great Hall.

Both Jack and Kevin whispered, coming up with ideas to get past whatever Dumbledore will be using.

"Just who will this impartial judge be to decide the champions?" Arthur questioned as they didn't really know who it'll be.

"Who knows." Jack shrugged.

"I'm just concerned about the fact that people have died in this Tournament." Chrys said as they walked through a door that was concealed behind a tapestry and walked up another, narrower staircase.

"But you heard Dumbledore, they'll be taking precautions so that it won't be fatal this time." Jack reminded her.

Eventually, they all made it to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, which was behind a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" She asked as they all approached.

"Balderdash." Kevin replied, having had a Prefect tell him downstairs.

The portrait then swung forwards and revealed a hole in the wall, which they all climbed.

There was a crackling fire that warmed the large and circular common room, which was full of squashy armchairs and a couch in front of the fire, as well as tables.

Chrys bid them all good night before disappearing through the doorway to the girls' dormitories.

Arthur and David climbed up the last spiral staircase and reached their own dormitory, which was at the top of the Tower. There were six four poster beds with deep crimson hangings all against the walls, each of their owner's trunks at the foot.

Both Dean and Seamus were already getting to bed; Seamus having pinned his Ireland rosette to his headboard, and Dean having tacked up a poster of Viktor Krim over his bedside table. His old West Ham poster was pinned right next to it.

Neville seemed to be sleeping already.

Then there's Mike, who was still awake.

Arthur and David changed into their pyjamas and got into bed. It seemed that the house elves put warming pans between the sheets, making the beds more comfortable.

"If there wasn't an age restriction, I'd have a go. Be nice to represent Hogwarts." David said.

"Same here, just as long as the champion ain't a Slytherin. They're the worst Hogwarts has to offer." Mike added.

Arthur was lying there, thinking about the Triwizard Tournament. It sounds cool, but he actually didn't come close to wanting to participate in it. It would be nice to just be a spectator for once. And considering that he didn't know what the three magical tasks would be, he'd rather see what they were as an audience member, not as a champion.

He was thinking this as he snuggled in his sheets and pillow before dozing off to sleep.


Don't worry for all those who think the whole S.P.E.W. subplot is annoying, like me. Chrys isn't going to form it, if anything, she'll just be curious about house elves and want know how they live and such.