TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT

The delegations from Beauxbatons and

Durmstrang will be arriving at 6 o'clock

on Friday the 30th of October. Lessons will

end half an hour early. Students will return

their bags and books to their

dormitories and assemble in front

of the castle to greet our guests before

the Welcoming Feast.

The Triwizard Tournament had been the only topic of conversation for Hogwarts students for roughly a week, no thanks to the announcements set up all across the school. Mr. Filch, the groundskeeper of Hogwarts, had spent a majority of that week cleaning in preparation for the school's arrival, and Oriane certainly noticed a difference. The enchanted armor no longer squeaked when they moved, the portraits were wiped free of their grime, and the ceiling had never looked brighter. Even the air felt easier to breathe in.

By that point, it was well known that Cedric Diggory was planning on putting his name forth for the tournament, and much to Oriane's surprise, he was gaining quite a bit of traction. Though it was mostly members of the Hufflepuff House rooting for him, there were murmurs throughout the corridors of other houses supporting him in this endeavor as well. Then, of course, there were the Weasley twins, who were dead set on putting their names in despite the fact that they were underaged. And there were no doubt a handful of other older students, each wanting to compete for glory.

The real excitement, however, started on the thirtieth. Calista had woken up extra early that morning where she spent that extra time doing her best to dress herself up. She applied a decent amount of makeup, something Oriane had never seen the girl wear before, and she even curled the ends of her hair some, which made her ponytail seem more voluminous than normal. Oriane was certain that if she didn't have to wear her uniform, the girl would've worn a full ball gown to classes that day.

"What's with the makeup?" Charlotte asked as Calista admired herself in the mirror.

"The other schools are coming today! I want to make a good impression," Calista said matter-of-factly.

"Are you sure you just don't want to try and get some poor French boy to swoon over you?" Oriane teased.

"Ew, no, as if," Calista recoiled. "The French? Come on. I'm thinking of bagging some cute Bulgarian. Because, you know, not all of us are lucky enough to find our true love here at Hogwarts."

It was Oriane's turn to recoil as Calista shot her a toothy grin. "Merlin..."

Despite some prompting from Calista, none of the other girls were very keen on dressing up with her. Once they finally convinced the girl that she looked fine, they continued their day like normal, or at least as normal as things could get. Every classroom was full to the brim with excited students as the only thing anyone could talk about was the tournament. Hardly any work seemed to get done in any of the classes, if any got done at all, yet Oriane was glad to find that their Defense Against the Dark Arts class was cut short for the day.

Once the bell rang, Oriane and her friends rushed back to their dorms where their book bags were tossed in random directions. After donning thick winter cloaks, the girls then rushed back up to the ground floor where all the other houses and students converged in the entrance hall.

Teachers shuffled around, seemingly more anxious than the students as they directed everyone around, doing their best attempt at forming tangible lines. Oriane found herself shoved in a tight line right between Emerald and Calista, with Charlotte taking up the front as they walked down the steps out of Hogwarts.

"God, it's freezing," Emerald said with chattering teeth. "Couldn't we have greeted them inside?"

"Yeah, well, I'm sure the schools have found some extravagant way to introduce themselves," Calista smirked. "This is about showing off as much as it is winning, you know."

"They'll be showing off to a bunch of corpses at this rate," Emerald whined.

It took more time than anyone preferred, but eventually all the students were lined up in front of the castle, looking into the dark, autumn air around them. Even Oriane had to admit she was freezing. The days hadn't quite grown frigid cold yet, but without the sun to warm the area around them it was nearly unbearable. She found herself wrapping her cloak tightly around her as if it were a blanket.

The students were waiting so long they had begun to make up crazy theories of how they suspected the other schools would arrive. Brooma, apparating, the train; most were outlandish, but perhaps that could be blamed on the cold rotting their brains.

Eventually their theories were laid to rest as the arrival of the first school came into view. Off in the distance, flying just above the Forbidden Forest, was what appeared to be several large horses towing a large, house-like carriage behind them. The horses themselves were nearly three times the size of a normal horse, and they came at them with concerning speed. Eventually they landed with a huge thud, which caused the first few rows of students to flinch backward as dirt was kicked up their way.

"Of course the French arrive first," Oriane heard Calista mutter behind her.

She wondered if that was a good time to remind her friend of her last name.

Seconds after landing, the door to the carriage opened, and a boy in pale blue robes hopped onto the ground. After fumbling with something on the floor of the carriage, he set up a small set of steps so that the others could more gracefully leave the carriage.

The first person to exit was a giant of a woman, one so big she sent gasps throughout every student who beheld the sight of her. She was dressed head to toe in black satin, and had equally black, beady eyes. Oriane had never seen a woman so unnaturally large before. She was almost certain that she was taller than their large Care of Magical Beasts teacher, Professor Hagrid.

Professor Dumbledore was the first to clap for the arrival of their new guests, and stunned, the students could only follow his lead. Behind the large woman were her students, all who were much more average of a size. They were all dressed in the same, silky blue uniforms as the first boy they saw, and despite the beauty of the uniforms, it seemed to do nothing to help starve off the cold night air around them.

Refusing to brave the outside like the rest of them, the Beauxbaton students climbed up the stairs to the entrance of Hogwarts, forcing everyone in line to temporarily split to make a direct path for them. Once the stragglers were fully inside, the Hogwarts students returned to their normal spots, a bit more bitter than they had been moments before.

"Dumbledore's an oaf, making us stand out here while they get to go inside," Calista continued her muttering.

"Shut up, he'll hear you," Charlotte hissed.

Luckily they didn't have to wait much longer, as soon a commotion gathered everyone's attention once more. The normally mirror-like stillness of the lake off to their right was suddenly becoming turbulent; something that was rare to see even in the wildest of storms. A great whirlpool broke out in the middle of the lake, one so large it could swallow the Beauxbaton's carriage. Shortly after a tall, black pole began to stick up out of it. It grew and grew in size until a large mast of a ship appeared. Gasps followed upon the realization.

The rest of the ship followed next, and it broke to the surface with a heavy bob. The ship was so old and rugged, Oriane was convinced it was some abandoned ship someone happened across at the bottom of the ocean and decided to enchant. Despite the fact that it looked ancient and about to fall apart at any moment, a heavy anchor was dropped into the water below, stabilizing the ship so that the inhabitants could depart safely across a plank.

As the Durmstrang students got closer, Oriane could make out the thick fur cloaks on their bodies. They were dressed even warmer than most Hogwarts students were, and she couldn't help but laugh and think how well those cloaks would've done the Beauxbaton students.

"Dumbledore!" the Durmstrang Headmaster shouted in glee. This man stood out amongst his students, and it wasn't just because of his older age. Much like the Beauxbaton Headmaster, he wore a cloak of pure black, but with silky fur instead of satin. The man greeted Dumbledore with a firm handshake. "How are you, my dear fellow?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore smiled.

"Karkaroff…" Calista repeated. "Why does that name sound so familiar?"

While the Durmstrang students split the Hogwarts group once more, Oriane and the others couldn't help but turn to Calista. Her brows were drawn together as she stared empty at the ground in front of them, not even bothering to ogle at any of the boys passing them by.

"Do you know him or something?" Emerald cautiously asked.

Calista, who hadn't realized everyone had been staring at her, shook herself out of her trance. She threw the girls around her an odd look before shrugging.

"That's not important right now. Come on, let's follow. I'm freezing."

The warmth of the Great Hall had never been more enticing to the freezing Hogwarts students as they sat at their tables. The Beauxbaton students had made their home at the Ravenclaw table, and despite the fact they were in a whole different world, they looked rather underwhelmed and almost gloomy. Durmstrung, however, appeared much happier, and almost impressed with everything they saw around them. Unfortunately they had decided to sit with the Slytherins, giving Draco Malfoy ample time to speak with a certain popular Viktor Krum.

Oriane could practically hear every quidditch fan cursing Draco's position.

"So," Emerald spoke up in a whisper while leaning into the group. "Are you going to tell us who that Karkaroff guy is?"

"Not here," Calista snapped. "I don't fancy getting in trouble in front of all these people."

"Okay, okay, geez," Emerald muttered.

And Oriane couldn't help but notice how… unlike herself Calista was being. It was as if she kept going back and forth between personalities. One moment she was her usual, goofy ray of sunshine, but if any small thing went otherwise, she was rigid, and shut down. Much like in their Defense Against the Dark Arts class a few weeks back when she went off on their professor. Yet despite how harsh she could become, she always seemed to bounce back one way or another.

Still…

Her thoughts ceased the moment the headmasters of the three schools entered the Great Hall. The Beauxbaton students, much to the amusement of all the other students, stood the very moment they caught sight of their headmaster, whom Oriane learned was named Madam Maxime. Still, she had to give credit where credit was due; they did not waver or move until Madam Maxime sat with the rest of the professors at the teachers table.

Dumbledore, however, stayed standing.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, and most particularly, guests," he said, addressing the Hall as a whole. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

One of the Beauxbaton girls, who was still shivering, let out a bitter laugh.

"Don't worry, sure one of your overly large carriages could send you back if you wish," Charlotte jested to the group around her.

"The tournament will be officially open at the end of the feast. Now, I encourage you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!" Dumbledore finished.

Just as usual, the plates and pitchers in front of them were instantly filled with food and drink. However, the Welcoming Feast was much different from their normal feasts. There was their usual smoked ham, mashed potatoes, and puddings, yet there were other foods there that were unmistakably foreign.

"Ugh, fish," Charlotte said, wrinkling her nose. "I'll pass on that one, thanks."

Oriane wished some of the food had come with a label. It didn't exactly look off putting, yet the unfamiliar fact of what it was and what people were putting in their mouths made her uncomfortable. She decided to follow Charlotte's lead and pass on anything she couldn't properly pronounce.

"Who's that girl over there?" Calista suddenly asked.

Turning her attention away from the food, Oriane looked to see that Calista was discreetly pointing at one of the Beauxbaton girls at the Ravenclaw table. Following her finger, both her and Charlotte looked over their shoulders, giving the girl a quick look.

The girl was unmistakably beautiful, with long silvery hair, and deep blue eyes. She seemed to have captivated the attention of a few others around her, namely the boys, and a certain Ronald Weasley at the Gryffindor table. Oriane couldn't help but think she almost looked rather similar to a Veela…

"Come on," Charlotte said, turning back to look at Calista, "how many of these people do you know?"

"I wouldn't be asking who she was if I knew her, now would I?" Calista jeered.

"Who?" Emerald spoke up, having just finished her mouthful of food.

Calista once more pointed the girl out, eyes hardly leaving her. "She's gorgeous."

Emerald followed the girl's gaze onto the young, beautiful French girl. Her green eyes lingered for only a moment before glancing back at Calista, and then back down at her food. "She's alright."

Once the first course of food was finished, and dessert was but a fond memory, Dumbledore once more stood to address the students in front of him.

"The moment has come!" he said, gleefully. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. But first, I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways; their magical prowess, their daring, their powers of deduction, and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."

As Professor Dumbledore continued to speak, Mr. Filch brought up a wooden chest (much to Oriane's relief, as the term casket was a bit misleading) that was encrusted with several colorful jewels. The wood was heavily weathered, and she wouldn't have been surprised if it was something that the previous tournaments several centuries ago used in their competitions.

"As you know, there will be three champions competing in the tournament, one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."

From the wooden chest, Dumbledore took out a large, rather dinky looking wooden goblet. It looked extremely well used, and would have been underwhelming had it not been for the brilliant blue flames protruding from the top of it. The very sight of it was enough to get a few awes in admiration out of the students.

"How does a goblet choose a champion?" Emerald asked.

"With magic, probably," Charlotte answered sarcastically.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," Dumbledore continued. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete."

Oriane couldn't help but glance around the Hufflepuff table until her eyes landed on Cedric. He sat with a few of his quidditch friends further down the table, all of whom were busy patting him on the back and whispering to him. She couldn't help but smile to herself before turning back to look at the headmaster.

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line. Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

Tables shook as everyone rose to their feet and began to file out of the Great Hall. Everyone spoke at once, all talking about the tournament, of course. Even the quiet, gloomy looking Beauxbaton students were seen chatting away.

"An Age Line," Calista mused out loud. "Bet Fred and George have already got an idea in mind to get around that."

"You can't be serious," Oriane spoke up. "They're really trying to enter despite being underaged?"

"Well, hey, I never said they were smart," Calista defended.

As the girls continued forward, they were slowly stopped by what appeared to be a sort of roadblock. Soon, a large group of students were standing, bubbled out from the exit of the Great Hall. Oriane attempted to hop onto her toes, trying her best to look over the heads of everyone in front of her.

"Twenty strange students show up and suddenly we don't know how to walk through doors," Calista sighed. "Alright ladies, hold hands. We're going to bludgeon our way through this."

"Cali, I don't know if that's the best idea," Oriane attempted to warn.

But it was too late. Calista's hand was firmly wrapped around her wrist, and suddenly they were all diving through the crowd in front of them, each of the girls holding onto one another. Toes were stepped on, ribs were elbowed, insults muttered, but no matter what, Calista White was going to get her and her friends out of that terrible, crowded hall.

Until she realized what had created the bottleneck in the first place.

The Durmstrang Headmaster, Professor Karkaroff, stood in the doorway next to Viktor Krum. It appeared as if Ron was trying to be a gentleman (or perhaps just get closer to one of his favorite quidditch players) and was holding the door for them, but it seemed as if Karkaroff was more interested in his friend: Harry Potter. And so it was an odd stand off of sorts. Karkaroff looking at Harry, Calista looking at Karkaroff, and her roommates looking at her.

Even the Durmstrang students seemed to catch sight of what their professor was so transfixed by. One of the boys even went as far as to openly point at the lightning bolt shaped scar on the boy's forehead.

"Yeah, that's Harry Potter," a grumbly voice spoke up from behind them.

Everyone quickly parted to the side as Professor Moody pushed his way through the crowd. Apparently, he too was curious as to what all the commotion was. No surprise the Boy Who Lived was in the midst of it yet again.

"You!" Karkaroff exclaimed. His voice sounded angry, yet almost scared. Though, it wasn't as if Oriane could really blame the man. Mad-eye Moody certainly wasn't the easiest wizard to behold.

"Me," Moody said, maintaining his usual grumbly voice. "And unless you've got anything to say to Potter, You might want to move. You're blocking the doorway."

Nearly half the school had gathered behind them at that point, all because someone didn't know how to keep their surprise to themself. And though Harry was regarded as, well, a legend of sorts, Oriane had expected someone of Karkaroff's position to hold himself to a different standard when it came to not staring at students.

Eventually the man saw the commotion he was causing, and with a wave of his hand, he left with his students following closely behind him. The very moment the flow of traffic went forward again, Calista once more dragged her friends behind her, taking a sharp turn left the very moment they exited the Great Hal.

"Cali! Slow down!" Emerald exclaimed while she did her best to tear her hand out of Calista's grasp.

"I can't believe that just happened," Calista breathed as they began to rush down the stairs that lead to their common room.

Oriane's wrist wasn't free from Calista's grasp until they finally entered their dorm. The girls were nearly panting from trying to keep up with the fast pace that was set, and each of them were rubbing their wrists.

"Are you going to tell us what's going on?" Charlotte questioned, impatient.

"Karkaroff's a Death Eater!" Calista blurted.

Whatever the girls had expected, it certainly wasn't that, and the looks on their faces made it all the more obvious. Yet, Oriane was more terrified than anything. After everything she had gone through at the World Cup, everything she saw those people do to an innocent family… having one at Hogwarts was beyond insane.

"Was a Death Eater," Calista corrected herself. "But still…"

"How did you know that?" Oriane asked, doing her best to keep her voice from shaking.

"My father told me about it. Says he was a big follower of You-Know-Who back in the war, but sorta went turncoat the moment he was captured by the Ministry. Turned in a whole lot of other Death Eaters during his sentence at Azkaban. Got him released because of it." Calista paused for a moment as she ran her hand through her ponytail. The curls had long since fallen out throughout the day. "Actually, I think it was Mad-Eye Moody who caught him, oddly enough. Explains Karkaroff's strange reaction. Or maybe he just wasn't used to seeing someone that ugly."

"Ex Death Eater or not, why would Dumbledore let someone like that at Hogwarts?" Emerald asked.

"I thought it was the Ministry who coordinated the tournament. Dumbledore might not have had a choice," Charlotte voiced.

"That's even worse! They of all people should've known!" Emerald retorted.

"Relax, it's nothing to really worry about, I just wasn't expecting to see him here. Karkaroff is a coward, and if he's anything like the other ex Death Eaters, he's probably terrified of You-Know-Who. Or at least he should be. Betraying a dark wizard like him doesn't come without consequences. Or at least it would, if the creep was still alive," Calista brushed off.

Milo, who seemed upset that he hadn't gotten any attention from any of the girls since they entered their dorm, began to claw at Calista's canopy, putting several small holes in the very bottom of it.

"Aye!" Calista exclaimed, her tame Scottish accent suddenly thickening. She quickly leaned down and picked the little kitten up by its scruff. "Ya damn rat, paws off my stuff!"

"You seem to know a lot about this stuff," Charlotte said, continuing the conversation despite the distraction.

Calista shrugged. "It's just stuff my father's told me. Or, well, more of what I've overheard. He talks an awful lot. Unfortunately, a lot of what he says ends up being true for the most part. He says information is the best weapon you can have, and he sure lives up to that ideology."

Charlotte could only smirk. "So, does Karkaroff being a Death Eater put a damper on your plans to woo some poor Durmstrang boy?"

A chorus of laughter erupted in the room, and while Oriane joined them, she couldn't help but linger on just what Calista had told them. And though Calista, the Ministry, and apparently the Durmstrang Institution itself didn't seem to fear him, she couldn't help but worry about his connections. About what happened to Jean and Anais.

And she came to the painful realization that Karkaroff most likely knew the maskless Death Eater that murdered her father.