Hogwarts was just as breathtaking as it had been the first time Oriane had witnessed its beauty. Its tall towers loomed over the countryside it was snugly nestled into, fitting right in with the scenery around it. A bright orange glow illuminated the misty rain around it making it look almost haunted. Which, it was in a way, if you counted the several ghosts that meandered through the corridors at any given moment.
The four roommates huddled together in one of the many horseless carriages as they were pulled closer to the castle. Relentless rain continued to harass them, and the sound of it pattering against the roof was almost deafening. Milo took comfort from within Emerald's robe, and his little head would poke out of the front every now and then. His tired eyes would glance around before he would take refuge in the warmth again.
"Wasn't it raining last year, too?" Calista whined, leaning against Oriane for warmth.
"I figured you'd be used to the weather since you've lived here your entire life," Charlotte teased. "Just be glad there's no dementors this time."
Eventually the carriage pulled the girls up to the entrance of the castle, where it came to a graceful halt. All the girls stayed sitting for a moment as each of them built up the courage to dive back into the pouring rain once more. Emerald was the first to hop out. After double checking that Milo was completely covered from the sky, she quickly dove into the rain using her body as a shield, and began rushing up the steps to the entrance.
The rest of the girls followed after her, and Oriane couldn't help but gasp as the cold water began to drench her once more. Her school uniform did little to nothing to keep her dry, and she couldn't help but wonder if there was some sort of enchantment she could put on her clothes to prevent that from happening in the future.
Three of the four girls made it to the doors. Emerald, who seemed much too concerned over getting her ball of fluff to somewhere dry, rushed through the open doors well before the others. Oriane stood right in front of the entrance, but couldn't help but look back and check on the others. Slowly dragging her feet up the stone behind her was Calista, who looked utterly miserable, yet didn't seem too interested in trying to move any quicker.
Then there was Charlotte, who looked as if she hadn't moved a single step once exiting the carriage. She was completely soaked to the bone, and her robes almost scraped the ground, they were so heavy. Her normally bright hair turned slightly ashy from how waterlogged it was, and it began to stick to various parts of her face, yet it didn't seem to bother her one bit.
She stood with her hand outstretched in the air, moving it gently almost as if she were touching something. Yet, Oriane was certain there was nothing there. A part of her began to wonder if Charlotte had gone off the deep end or not, standing out in the rain trying to grasp at nothing.
"What's she doing?" Oriane asked Calista, who had finally made it to the top of the steps.
Turning around, Calista's eyes landed on Charlotte. Her hand was still outstretched in the air, and the girl even seemed to be smiling a bit.
"I take it you're not familiar with Thestrals at all?" she asked, turning back to Oriane.
"Thestrals?" she repeated.
Calista hummed. "For now, let's just say this is a little quirk of hers," she shrugged. "Charlie! Come on! You're gonna get us sick!"
Said girl turned to look at her roommates, who stood waiting for her on the top step. Then, she turned back to look at the empty space in front of her one last time before rushing up the steps after them, splashing in deep puddles along the way.
The very moment the girls set foot in the castle the rain seemed like some far away concept. Torches and candles lit the hallway, creating a path that led them directly to the Great Hall. Light poured from the room and into the Entrance Hall, and the familiar buzz and noise of students emanated through the doorway.
Beyond the doorway were five large tables. Four of each were adorned with one color each, canary yellow, sapphire, emerald green, and maroon; each representing the four houses of Hogwarts. The fifth table laid at the far back of the room, reserved for staff members only. But the girls had walked into that room a million times before, and so they made their way to their home; the Hufflepuff table.
Golden plates and goblets shimmered in the lights of the countless floating candles that drifted above their heads. The enchanted ceiling mimicked the storm that raged outside the castle, yet they were each relieved to know that they no longer had to worry about getting drenched.
The very moment they sat down, unrelenting meowing sounded from underneath Emerald's cloak. Said girl began to hiss slightly as she gripped at something underneath the cloth.
"Milo- ow! Stop that I'm- ow! I'm trying to help you, you moron!" Emerald exclaimed, finally releasing the fluffy creature from his cloth jail.
"Stupid moron," Charlotte cooed.
Emerald could only sigh in annoyance.
"Evening, girls," a voice spoke up.
Each girl turned their heads to the sound of the voice and found Cedric Diggory. He looked just about as soaked, if not more, than everyone else in the hall. His robes were clinging to his skin, causing him to move stiffly as he approached the table, and his hair threatened to hang into his eyes from how heavy it was.
Calista flashed her teeth in a huge grin as the boy neared Oriane's side of the table. That sight was one of the most terrifying things Oriane had ever witnessed, as she wasn't quite sure what the girl had planned with a smile like that.
"Mind if I join you?" Cedric asked, shaking out his clothes one last time.
"Of course you can!" Calista quickly answered.
Really, there was nothing wrong with Cedric joining them at the table, as he had done so countless times the previous year. Yet Oriane couldn't help but wish that he hadn't. Or, maybe she just wished Calista would go away. The very moment Cedric swung his legs over the bench to sit next to her it was almost as if the girl couldn't keep her eyes off of them.
Luckily she didn't have to deal with any offhand, taunting comments from Calista, as the doors to the Great Hall swung open. Professor McGonagall led countless first years into the hall. Each of them were shivering and soaking, just like everyone else was, yet it almost seemed more pitiful on such young and small students than it did for everyone else.
And things went along very similarly to how Oriane's sorting went. All the first years lined up in front of the staff table, and McGonagall conjured a stool, where she set a hat upon it. Just like it had the previous year, the frumpy looking hat broke out into song, one that Oriane did her best to ignore, as she found the rhyming rather predictable and cheesy.
Once the hat finished, the Sorting began. One by one students approached the stool where they would wear the Sorting Hat. Moments later the hat would shout out a house, and one of the four tables would roar the loudest with cheers and applause. And while the Sorting seemed to have gone by much faster the year before, Oriane couldn't help but feel as if it was dragging on. The fact that her stomach began to growl certainly didn't help, either. Even Milo, who was attempting to knock Charlotte's fork off the table, was growing restless.
The Sorting ended with a student named Kevin Whitby being sorted into Hufflepuff, and one last loud round of applause echoed throughout the hall as the boy found his seat. Professor Dumbledore, the school's headmaster, stood up from his seat with his arms spread out, gesturing to the entirety of the hall.
"I have only two words to say to you," he informed them with a smile. "Tuck in!"
In an instant food littered the table in front of them, and it was just as grand as it was her first year there. Mashed potatoes, smoked ham, rolls of bread so fluffy they melted in your mouth; anything that could be imagined would be found on one of the various platters in front of them.
"So, Cedric," Calista spoke up as the group began to load their plates, "I heard you attended the World Cup?"
It took everything in Oriane not to slam her head into the platter in front of her. Leave it to Calista White to make things difficult. But she did her best to act normal as she too began to fill her plate.
"Oh, yeah. Oriane and I went together, along with the Weasley's. We saw you there with your parents, actually," Cedric said, eyeing Milo who sat impatiently in Emerald's lap.
Calista let out a slight cough as she choked down her Yorkshire Pudding. Whatever devious glint that had been in her eyes before had completely vanished.
"Is that so?" she said with a faint smile. "Well, we didn't stay for very long. Father just wanted to go for some of the… uh… more social aspects of the event. We left before the game even ended…"
The tail end of her statement fell off awkwardly as she turned her full attention to the food on her plate. Though a part of Oriane was worried about her sudden shut down, she was at least glad that the girl couldn't do much more meddling.
"Ow! Alright, fine!" Emerald suddenly exclaimed. Everyone turned to the girl, where they found a puffy orange kitten biting hard onto her fingers. "Only a little bit, alright?"
Emerald pried Milo off of her finger and then tore a small bit of turkey off of her plate. She hardly had any time to bring it over to the kitten before he was already trying to jump onto the table to devour it.
"How was your stay with the Weasley's?" Cedric asked, finally breaking the awkward silence that had settled between them.
Glad to talk about something other than the World Cup, Oriane swallowed the food in her mouth. "It was good. Ron's siblings make good company, for the most part. Poor Mr. Weasley spent most of his time at the Ministry, though."
Cedric hummed. "Yeah, both him and my dad were busy trying to quell some of Rita Skeeter's rumors. But I'm glad they were good to you. It's… good to see that you're doing better."
"I said only a little! Milo! Young man!" Emerald suddenly interrupted.
Milo had managed to wiggle his way out of Emerald's hands and was now completely standing on the table. Not that his small body took up that much room. He could lay down between the platters in front of them and still have plenty of room to spare. However, that was not the issue Emerald was complaining about. He now had free range access to her plate, and was busy dragging a large chunk of turkey off of it.
After a few moments of Emerald's feeble attempts of taking the meat out of his mouth, Calista quickly leaned over and grabbed him by his scruff. She brought his limp body into the air, but that didn't make him drop the chunk of turkey he had clenched between his teeth.
"Don't grab him like that!" Emerald chastised, trying to reach for the kitten.
"What? He's being a criminal. If he's going to act like one, he's going to be treated like one!" Calista retorted as she attempted to pull the turkey out of Milo's mouth. "Drop it… come on you little rat."
Once they wrangled Milo back onto Emerald's lap, the rest of their meal went unhindered by awkward conversation and ravenous kitten. Almost every single platter had been licked sparkling clean by the time Professor Dumbledore stood from his seat again. Every student in the hall fell silent, leaving behind nothing but the sound of far away thunder and rain pounding on the windows.
"Now that we are all fed and watered, I must ask for your attention once more while I give out a few notices," the professor started. "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 include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."
"Four hundred?" Emerald whispered in surprise.
"You can thank Fred and George Weasley for that one," Calista chuckled.
"As always, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out of bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year," Dumbledore continued. "It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."
"What?" Oriane heard a gasp come from the Gryffindor table.
She turned her attention to Cedric who had his eyes glued to the headmaster. His mouth was slightly ajar as he stared at the man, seemingly too appalled to speak. This reaction seemed to spread to everyone else throughout the hall, as there was nothing but a terrible silence.
"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," Dumbledore continued, "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 terrible booming sound of thunder, and the doors to the Great Hall swung open. At once, everyone turned their heads to look at the newcomer.
They weren't at all what Oriane had been expecting. They were a strange looking man with a half missing leg and a cane that clunked along as he walked towards the staff table. He had a long, sopping wet mess of hair on his head, and she couldn't help but notice a large chunk that seemed to be missing from his nose. Perhaps the most perplexing thing about the man were his eyes. One was normal, both in size and in color, the other one seemed about three sizes too large and was a bright, unnatural blue. It seemed to move totally independent of his other eye as it scanned the area around him, and periodically it would roll into the back of his head so that you could only see the white part of it.
Dumbledore didn't seem all too surprised to see the man, and gestured to the staff table where he then sat. "May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? Professor Moody."
Moody. Suddenly, Oriane began to understand Esme's apprehension of the man teaching at Hogwarts. Not that she was ever one to try and judge someone based on their looks, but this man was utterly terrifying. There were more scars on his body than there were freckles on her face, and his eye was absolutely off putting. Though, she was quick to understand his nickname Mad-Eye.
Everyone in the hall was either too stunned or too uninterested to give Mad-Eye Moody any sort of a welcome, but the man didn't seem to be all that bothered by it. Instead, he reached into his traveling cloak and pulled out a flask, which he quickly took a swig of.
"As I was saying," Dumbledore said, continuing once again with his constantly interrupted speech, "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."
"You're joking!" Fred Weasley shouted loudly from the Gryffindor table.
Many students throughout the room began to laugh.
"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore chuckled.
"Oh Merlin," Calista muttered.
"For those of you who don't know, 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. 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."
"The death toll?" Emerald repeated.
"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.
"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 is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous.
"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!"
Once more a great buzz exploded in the Great Hall as the students rose from their seats. Whatever depression that had settled over them after the announcement that quidditch was going to be canceled was instantly replaced with utter excitement from the Triwizard tournament. It was all anyone was talking about as they made their way to their houses.
"This must've been what Bill and Charlie Weasley were talking about before we boarded the train this morning," Oriane thought out loud.
"They mentioned the tournament?" Cedric asked.
Oriane shook her head. "Not exactly, but they kept dropping hints about them coming to Hogwarts to watch something. I guess they were talking about watching these tasks, or whatever."
A small, thoughtful smile crossed Cedric's lips. The kind that told Oriane he was lost deep in thought. For a boy who seemed to love quidditch with all his heart, he certainly had gotten over the loss of his favorite sport rather quickly.
"Maybe I'll put my name in," Cedric said.
"You?" Oriane repeated.
"What, you don't think I'd make a good representative for Hogwarts?" he teased.
"It's not that," Oriane giggled. "But didn't you hear Dumbledore. He said they had to stop last time because the death toll got too lage. Wouldn't you be worried of getting hurt?"
Cedric shrugged. "Maybe if I went to Hogwarts a few centuries ago. I'll be seventeen by the time the tournament starts, so I think I'll be able to handle a few challenges. Morso than some thirteen year old back in the 1600's, I reckon."
And so Oriane thought for a long moment. Perhaps Cedric was right. Dumbledore explicitly mentioned that only the older students were allowed to enter, and they had taken extreme precautions as far as the danger of the tournaments. Or, at least no one would find themself in a life or death situation. Besides, Cedric seemed more than capable at the World Cup as he came out without a scratch, which was more than some could say.
"If you're so keen on putting your name in, I'll have you know I think you'd be the best candidate," she retorted.
"Oh yeah?" Cedric pressed. "What makes you say that?"
"Well, you're a prefect, for starters, and the captain of the Hufflepuff team and you're…"
Nice to look at.
She almost choked as the thought popped into her head. Where it had even come from, she had no idea, but she did her best to quickly push it out of her mind before Cedric became suspicious.
"... not boastful. Certainly less annoying than most other people I could imagine putting their names forward," she finished.
"Less annoying? You wound me," Cedric said, feigning a shot to his chest. "Alright, you've convinced me. Come Halloween I'll put my name in and we'll see if I get pulled."
"Convinced you? Please, you and I both know you had already made up your mind."
And the boy smiled, some small wistful one as his gaze averted away from the girl. Oriane could nearly see the steam pouring out of his ears from the gears turning in his head. There was something he wanted to say, yet she refused to push him further on it.
"Maybe so. But I've gotta go help the others with the first years. I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked.
"Of course," she smiled.
Saying his final goodbye for the night, Cedric disappeared further into the crowd around them, no doubt trying to wrangle up anyone who looked even remotely close to eleven years old. And as he walked away, Oriane couldn't help but think back to that terrible intrusive thought.
Nice to look at. It wasn't a lie, she would admit that but… no, she refused to entertain the thought. Oriane let out a heavy sigh as she quickened her pace, trying to leave those words far behind her. Whatever was going on in her mind was something she couldn't afford to listen to.
"Damn you, Calista."
