A/N: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling and her associates. Please support the official release.
Hagrid's Hut
Harry had always loved the small wooden cabin Hagrid called his home. Tucked away in the corner of the school grounds, the quaint building stood on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, a risky place for anyone to live, but Harry knew Hagrid didn't mind. The half-giant was the Gamekeeper at Hogwarts for a reason, after all. He loved all manner of creatures, be it spiders, griffins or dragons, and possessed tremendous amounts of self-taught knowledge about how to deal with each and every one of them. It only made sense then, that the man would feel most at home close to the creatures he so deeply cared about.
There really wasn't a person in the world Harry thought more fit for the job of Gamekeeper than Hagrid.
The inside of the shack Hagrid called his home was also a very fitting representation of the man's nature. The entire thing consisted of a single, wood-paneled room that had hams and pheasants hanging loosely from the ceiling. Wooden shelves littered the walls, all of them filled to the brim with glass jars containing all sorts of ingredients and curious-looking items. At the back stood an old fireplace where, most of the time, one could see a copper kettle hanging over the flames, boiling water to be used in tea or other meals. Over in the corner was Hagrid's bed, its massive wooden frame easily taking up a quarter of the entire living space. A single table with four chairs was placed next to it, which was where Harry and Hermione were currently seated.
It was a very modest home, one bereft of any unnecessary splendor or luxury, and one Harry greatly enjoyed visiting. He hadn't been here a lot during his Third Year (for a multitude of reasons), but he was determined to change that going forward. Hagrid was his oldest friend, after all, the one who had first introduced him to the wonderous world of magic, and one of the few adults Harry felt genuinely comfortable around.
"How very nice o' you two to visit me out 'ere again. It's been a while since I've seen either of yous!" Hagrid smiled, his booming voice reverberating against the walls of the small wooden house as he walked over to the fireplace to pour some boiling water into three rather huge cups. "You weren't around here a lot last year."
"Yeah, I'm sorry about that, Hagrid. Last year was… difficult… for a lot of reasons, but I should've visited more," Harry grimaced, lowering his head in apology to the enormous man in front of him.
"Hogwash, Harry! You have nothin' to apologize for. I saw you plenty o' times in my classes, I'm just happy you are here now on your own time! And you even brought Hermione with you!"
Hermione sent the half-giant a warm smile at his words.
"It's good to see you too, Hagrid. Still doing well as Professor in the Care of Magical Creatures subject then, I take it?"
"Oh, yeah, yeah... it's goin' well. Apart from that one mishap with… with ol' Buckbeak…" Hagrid replied with a grimace, his voice dropping considerably lower at the mention of the late hippogriff's name.
"I'm… I'm really sorry for your loss, by the way," Hermione added, redirecting her gaze to the table in front of her. "I knew something would most likely happen to him after he hurt Draco in that one lesson, but I never thought… that they would actually…"
"Ahh, don't worry about it. What's done is done. It was me own fault, really. Should never 'ave let young Mr. Malfoy agitate him the way I did. I knew how strong Buckbeak's pride was…"
Both Harry and Hermione could tell from the tone of his voice that the memory of Buckbeak still pained Hagrid. The poor creature had been executed at the end of last semester for the "serious" crime of bringing bodily harm to a member of a Noble House, with no regard taken to the fact that Draco had quite literally antagonized the creature into doing so in front of dozens of witnesses.
Gotta love wizarding politics… Harry thought grimly to himself. Rotten all the way to the core.
"Actually… speakin' o' crimes… I've heard rumors that you have a court case of your own comin' up, Harry," the half-giant stated whilst walking over to the table with the three cups in his hands, all of which were now filled to the brim with piping hot tea.
"Oh yeah… I do," Harry grimaced, running an awkward hand through his unruly black hair before letting it fall back down onto the table. "I had completely forgotten about that."
Noticing his discomfort, Hermione enveloped the hand he had just placed down with her own, giving it a light squeeze.
"Well, to be fair… you did kind of bring that one on yourself," she commented.
"You really should'a known better than to mess with Malfoy, Harry. I know you. You're not a bad person, so I don't know what could'a compelled you to do what you did," Hagrid nodded, placing down one of the cups in front of him as he spoke. "But you sure as sunrise shouldn't have done it."
"Yeah, I know, I know… it's… there was obviously a reason behind it, of course, but still… I really shouldn't have given in to my anger," Harry sighed, shaking his head in defeat. "He's just so… punchable!"
"Oh, I get where you're comin' from. After what he did to poor ol' Buckbeak, I wanted to… Ah, nevermind. I pro'lly shouldn't say more. It's unfittin' of me as a Professor to speak ill of my students!" Hagrid grumbled, getting seated at the table before taking a huge swig of his tea, seemingly completely unfazed by the fact that it was quite literally boiling hot.
"… Whilst I think we can all agree that Malfoy is a mouthbreather of the highest order, it wasn't right of Harry to do what he did. Even if he did do it out of a wish to protect me," Hermione added, tightening her grip on Harry's hand. Harry, in turn, wisely chose to refrain from commenting any further on the situation. The two of them had already had this particular conversation multiple times over the past few days already, and Harry was in no hurry to reignite the argument that always followed.
I'm not going to apologize or feel sorry for giving that fucker what he deserved, even if Hermione wants me to. The most I can do is pretend that I'm at least a tiny bit regretful in front of the Wizengamot, so that they'll give me a lighter sentence.
Meeting Hermione's brown eyes with his own, he conveyed as much to her through a brief stare, which she responded to by sending him a weak smile.
"Anywhos…" Hagrid coughed, his eyes homing in on their now interlinked hands. "It's nice to see that the two of yous finally made it official! Been waitin' for you to make the plunge for quite some time now!"
His words caused the both of them to blush, but they didn't retract their hands or try to refute his statement. He was technically right, after all. The two of them were a proper couple now, and it was probably only a matter of time before the whole school found out. Not that it would come as a huge surprise to anyone, though. The other students had most likely thought them to be dating since the end of First Year.
"I've always thought that the two of yous would end up together at some point. Ever since you started hangin' around here in your First Year, in fact. You've always been quite the dynamic duo!"
"Oh stop it, Hagrid…" Hermione sighed, attempting to hide the smile on her face with little to no success.
"Yeah Hagrid, you've been thinking such things about us since we were 11 years old? That's kind of messed up, I'm not going to lie," Harry responded with a smirk, earning himself a light kick to the shin from Hermione.
"Ahh, it was nothin' major; I assure you. Just an inklin'… an inklin' that turned out to be right!" he laughed, before emptying the last of his cup in one big mouthful.
"To be fair, you're hardly the only one," Harry conceded, sending Hermione a cheeky wink as he talked. "I bet half the school is wondering what took us so long."
"Well, I was a bit preoccupied with trying to save your life from some new threat every year like clockwork, so forgive me if I wasn't exactly in the right mindset for romance before now!" Hermione giggled, causing Harry to snort.
"True that. You have a penchant for gettin' yourself into trouble, Harry. You're very much like your father in that way! He too loved gettin' himself into all manner of mischief, and had an intelligent witch on his side that would save him every time he stepped over the line," Hagrid smiled, before suddenly turning surprisingly serious. "Although… that's about where the similarities between the two of yous stop…"
Harry couldn't help but wince at Hagrid's words. He was right. Harry scarcely resembled his parents at all. According to what he had heard, he was quite the polar opposite of them, anti-social and cynical to their warm and joyful.
He supposed it only made sense that he would be different from them, though. Unlike his parents, Harry had grown up in a toxic household where he was not wanted, raised by people who had never shown him any kind of affection or love. Harry hadn't even known what friendship was like before he turned eleven and met Hermione. It was only natural that he would turn out at the very least slightly anti-social.
And yet, for some reason… hearing Hagrid speak so candidly about it made his heart throb in his chest. He felt as if he had somehow done something wrong by turning out the way he had.
"Hagrid, I'm sorry… for not being more like my parents," he suddenly blurted out, catching both Hagrid and Hermione by surprise. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Hermione's face shifting rapidly between multiple different facial expressions, as if unsure of which one it wanted to portray. Hagrid, on the other hand, looked positively stunned, and it took him a good couple of seconds to regain enough of his composure to formulate a response.
"Harry, my boy… you have absolutely nothin' to apologize for! It's not your fault you grew up to be a different man than that of your 'pa, after all. If anything, I'd say more o' the blame lies with Dumbledore for letting you grow up with those detestable Muggle relatives o' yours!" Hagrid grumbled, his eyes narrowing with anger at the mention of the Dursley family. "A truly wicked bunch, that one."
"Well… I'm not going to disagree with you on that," Harry sighed before taking a tentative sip of the now significantly colder tea in front of him. It was surprisingly sweet and tasted vaguely of blueberry and lemon. "But still… sometimes… I find myself wishing that I was more like them, you know. More… open, and welcoming, to others. I think that's kind of what people expect from the Boy-Who-Lived."
"Hah! Screw their expectations! You are your own man, Harry, and a damn fine one at that, I reckon. Sure, you might not be exactly what they want you to be, but so what? You took care o' the Dark Lord for them. That ought to be more than enough!" Hagrid bellowed, shaking his head in indignation.
"… I agree with Hagrid," Hermione nodded, carefully tracing loving circles over the top of his hand with her thumb. "Whilst you definitely could stand to be less cynical, I really don't think you should blame yourself for being the person you are. If you were any different, you wouldn't be… Harry… after all."
"You say that as if my personality has never bothered you in the past," Harry pointed out.
"Oh it absolutely has; I'm just saying that you wouldn't be you without the unbearably shitty attitude," she fired back with a smile, causing Harry to snort.
"Fair point."
"Ehh, I try."
"Either way..." Hagrid interjected, using his nearby umbrella-wand to cast a quick Tempus charm. "The two of yous should pro'lly get going soon. The students from Beauxbatons and the Durmstrang Institute will be arriving shortly, and I'm sure the Headmaster will want to gather everyone in the Great Hall in order to celebrate the occasion when that happens."
"Oh, yeah, right," Harry answered, hurriedly finishing off the rest of his tea before getting up from his seat. "The whole Triwizard Tournament thing. That happens today."
"You're damn right it happens today! I've been tasked with overseein' the landing strip for the Beauxbatons carriage, so I have to go as well. Me and Olympe, the Headmistress of Beauxbatons, go way back ya see," Hagrid added with an amorous smile, causing Harry to pause. He had never seen Hagrid smile like that before.
"You coming, Harry?" Hermione suddenly asked, having already made her way to the door without him noticing. Shaking his head, he pushed such thoughts to the back of his mind before nodding in response. He would have time to question Hagrid about it later. For now, they had to get back to the school.
"It was nice seeing you again, Hagrid!" he smiled as he walked past the half-giant.
"Likewise, Harry! Now off ye go!"
"I still don't like the idea of you performing that ritual, by the way," Hermione muttered as they made their way back to the school, her grip on Harry's hand tightening ever so slightly as she spoke. "What if something goes wrong?"
"Trust me Hermione, I don't like it either. But what choice do I have? I don't stand a chance against Voldemort as I am now, and you know that just as well as I do. It doesn't matter how much we study, there is simply no way of catching up to him. He's just too powerful. And so we need to find some way to cheat," Harry answered matter-of-factly, repeating the exact same sentiment he had voiced multiple times over the past few days. Needless to say, this was not the first time the two of them were having this discussion. Ever since he had told her about his plan to perform the ritual that night in the Room of Requirement, she had been attempting to change his mind. And so far, she had made zero progress on that front.
"I know that, Harry, but I seriously doubt that this is the way to go about it! Those kinds of rituals are forbidden for a reason, after all! You're messing with magic far beyond your capabilities!"
"That may be so, but I have to take that chance. You've heard the prophecy Dumbledore told me about in my Second Year, Hermione. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...". Now, that last bit is obviously a reference to something I'm supposed to have. So what if... what if the power I gain from this ritual IS that unknown power? Wouldn't that make it instrumental in the fight against Voldemort?" Harry argued, hoping to whatever God there was that his girlfriend would see reason. He understood her apprehension, he really did, but this was not something he was willing to back down on. That book... that Dark Artifact had ended up in his possession for a reason. He could feel it in his very bones.
"Yes, but prophecies are fickle things to rely on, Harry! They are often extremely difficult to interpret correctly, and usually worded in such a way as to allow for all manner of speculation! The "power the Dark Lord knows not" could quite literally mean anything! What about the power that allowed you to survive the Killing Curse, for instance? The power behind your mother's sacrifice?" she shot back, stopping dead in her tracks and fixing him with a stubborn look. It was the same kind of look she usually wore whenever she wanted him to understand that she strongly disagreed with him.
"Look, Hermione, I get it; you're worried about me, and with good reason. Godric knows I would've been worried if you had been talking about performing some unknown, bootleg Dark ritual," Harry sighed, turning around to face his girlfriend. "But I would've understood if you claimed it was absolutely necessary. Because I trust you, Hermione. I trust your judgement, and your intellect. All I ask is that you do the same for me."
A moment of silence passed between them as Hermione contemplated this, her face scrunched up in worry, her teeth biting down nervously on her lower lip. She really didn't like the idea of Harry doing something so dangerous. The very thought of it alone caused waves of anguish and uncertainty to ripple through her body. But she had to admit that she couldn't really see a much better solution either. The two of them had been studying rigorously and training hard for several years at this point, exceeding the other students in their Year by a wide margin. And yet, she still didn't feel like they were anywhere close to the Dark Lord's level. He was the most dangerous Dark Wizard to have ever lived, after all. She had to assume that his strength far exceeded that of every other wizard she had ever met, bar perhaps Dumbledore himself.
"I hate it..." she finally muttered, breaking the silence. "I hate it so much it makes my skin crawl, but... I'll accept it. As long as you let me be there when you do it, I'll accept it. I promised to stand with you, after all, and I intend to keep my word."
A wide smile formed on Harry's face as he heard her utter those words, his insides lighting up with relief and exhilaration. Words couldn't convey just how much he appreciated his girlfriend in that particular moment.
"Thank you, Hermione," he breathed, walking over to her and placing a loving hand on her cheek, his emerald green eyes locking onto hers with passionate intensity. The feel of his hand against her skin caused shivers to run up and down the length of Hermione's back, and she found herself overwhelmed by a sudden urge to kiss him.
"Don't get me wrong," she started, attempting to appear more incensed than she really was. "You shouldn't expect me to be happy about it. But if you truly believe it is necessary, then... then..."
"Then you'll let me do it," he finished for her, pushing his forehead against hers so that their eyes and mouths were only inches apart.
"... Yes," she whispered, staring into his eyes for just a moment before leaning in to plant her lips on his. The kiss she gave him was light and fleeting, but packed with such raw emotion that it threatened to overwhelm her senses should she allow herself to be swept away by its blissful waves.
"You're amazing, you know that, right?" Harry breathed once they broke apart, his mind filled with nothing but her as he looked into those brown eyes he had come to so greatly love.
"Well, you're not half-bad yourself," Hermione giggled back, his words causing a slight blush to appear on her cheeks.
Sending her a warm smile, Harry took her hand in his own before gently dragging her with him, continuing on the trek back to Hogwarts once again.
"Do you remember... when we first met?" he suddenly said, a nostalgic-looking expression fixing itself on his face.
"You mean... on the Hogwarts Express?" she replied as she followed after him, casting her mind back to her First Year at Hogwarts.
"Yeah... when we shared that train compartment together with Ron Weasley..." he nodded, thinking back to his first meeting with his first proper friend and eventual girlfriend.
Thirteen-year-old Harry Potter couldn't help but sigh as he walked through the crowded hallways of the Hogwarts Express for the second time since leaving King's Cross Station, his eyes darting to the side at regular intervals in search for an empty compartment to take a seat in. So far, they all seemed to be taken, and his social anxiety wouldn't allow him to just sit down in an occupied space with a bunch of people he didn't know from before. He had always been looked at as an outsider by his fellow classmates, after all, and he doubted things would be different here just because these people were students of a magical school instead of a regular one.
It took him a while, but he finally came upon a compartment with only a single person inside of it. The person appeared to be a girl roughly his age, with thick, bushy brown hair and fair skin. Her face was obscured by a book he did not recognize.
Deciding that he probably wouldn't find a better place to sit, Harry took one last deep breath to strengthen his resolve before slowly opening the door and sitting down opposite of the unknown girl.
"H-Hey," he started, running an awkward hand through his black hair. "Mind if I sit here?"
"Do as you please," the girl responded from behind the book, not even bothering to shoot as much as a customary look in his direction. Apparently, she deemed her reading material more interesting than him, something he couldn't really blame her for. He loved reading as well.
"Thanks... My name is Harry, by the way. Harry Potter," he continued, hoping to at least manage an introduction before he lost her completely to her book for the rest of the trip.
"... Wait..." she suddenly said, catching him off-guard by lowering the book to stare at him with surprisingly beautiful brown eyes. "Did… Did you just say… Harry Potter?"
"Umm… Yes, yes I did," Harry answered, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. "Is there something wrong with that?"
"No, no... It's just that... I wasn't expecting Harry Potter of all people to sit down in my compartment," she offered, a mildly intrigued look replacing the surprised one.
"Ahh. Well... here I am," he responded with a slight smile, causing the young girl to snort.
"Yes, here you are..."
"Uhh... Mind if I ask for your name?"
"Oh, right. I'm Hermione Granger. First Year," she stated matter-of-factly, closing the book she had in her hands and placing it down next to her. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"Uhm... likewise," Harry nodded, inwardly wondering just why she was using such formal phrases as "pleasure to make your acquaintance". Such things were usually only said by full-grown adults, after all, and not thirteen-year-old children.
"So are you really the Harry Potter then?" she asked, regarding him with a mix of suspicion and interest. "The famous wizard who defeated He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named?"
"Y-Yeah, I guess I am... I didn't know about my fame before just a couple of days ago, though. My parents died when I was very young, you see, so I've grown up with my Muggle relatives who apparently hate magic," he started, a wry smile forming on his face as he thought back to the night Hagrid had come to pick him up. That certainly had been one night to remember. "And they chose to keep me in the dark regarding the wizarding world, so all of this is still very new to me."
"Seriously?!" Hermione asked, her eyes going wide. "Harry Potter didn't know about the wizarding world or even his own story before just recently?"
"No, I didn't. I learned about it from a friend of mine called Hagrid, who helped me get ready for Hogwarts by taking me to Diagon Alley. I'm still kind of in shock over the fact that magic is actually real, to be honest. I can't wait to learn more about it!" he nodded, the excitement of going to a magical school getting the better of him for just a moment before he managed to reign it back in again. It wouldn't do to come off as a giddy little child in front of such a beautiful girl, after all.
Hermione moved to respond, but was interrupted by the sound of the door sliding open, revealing a young boy with flaming orange hair and freckled complexion standing in the opening. Clear, blue eyes regarded the interior with eager anticipation, moving across both of them, before settling on Harry.
"Hey there, I'm Ron Weasley," he said, a somewhat dopey smile plastered on his face.
"Oh, another one..." Hermione muttered to herself before turning to address the young boy. "Hello. I'm Hermione Granger, First Year at Hogwarts."
"A-And I'm Harry Potter, also a First Year. Nice to meet you."
A moment of silence descended upon their little group before Harry's words finally registered in Ron's brain.
"Wait, did you just say Harry Potter!?" he borderline screamed, his eyebrows disappearing so far up his forehead that they almost blended in with his hair.
"Yes, I did... Why does everyone keep assuming I'm not who I say I am?" Harry muttered in response, holding out his hand so the ginger-haired boy could shake it.
"Wicked!" Ron smiled, grabbing Harry's outstretched hand with his own. His hand was surprisingly clammy, so Harry made sure to stealthily wipe his fingers on the side of the couch once the handshake ended.
"Well, I don't know if "wicked" is a very accurate description of my name, but I'll take it as a compliment," Harry said once it became clear that Ron wasn't going to speak. Then he turned to address Hermione once more. "So anyways, you were about to say…?"
"Oh, right... you were telling me about your upbringing. Well... if you're truly telling the truth, then I have to say that it was pretty mean of your relatives to keep you in the dark about such important things. You deserve to know the truth behind your parents' death, if nothing else."
"Yeah, I agree. My aunt and uncle aren't exactly what you'd call "good people", so it doesn't surprise me that they would try to hide something so big from me. We don't really get along," Harry continued, trying his best to ignore the star-struck look Ron was shooting him from the side.
"Really now... What a truly unexpected turn of events. Consider me intrigued. I look forward to getting to know you better, Harry Potter," Hermione stated with a smile, causing Harry's heart to jump in his chest. Nobody had ever said something like that to him before. For as long as he could remember, he had always been alone. Could this really be... the start of what people called a friendship?
"Likewise, Hermione Granger," Harry responded with a smile. In any case, this was very much a person Harry did not regret meeting. She seemed very composed and intelligent for her age, and was also quite beautiful, at least in his eyes.
"Is it true that you have a scar on your forehead shaped as a lightning bolt?" Ron Weasley suddenly exclaimed, catching Harry by surprise.
"... Yes, that's true," Harry responded, turning to face the much less attractive young boy sitting on his right.
"Awesome! Could I see it?" Ron nodded, eyes wide with childish excitement.
"Uhh, yeah, okay. Sure," Harry said, before reluctantly pushing away the black hair that was partially hiding the scar.
"Wicked..." Ron breathed as his eyes locked in on the scar, regarding it with awe.
"Yes, it's all very exciting. But... Ron, was it?... I highly doubt Harry here appreciates being paraded around like a circus animal," Hermione chimed in, regarding the boy with the same look on her face one usually reserved for a particularly bothersome housefly.
"Oh, right. I apologize, mate. Just really wanted to see it, that's all," Ron smiled, tearing his eyes away from the wound at last.
"Ehh... fair enough, I suppose," Harry muttered in response, lowering his hand so his hair fell back down again. "No harm done."
"So, which House do you think you'll get sorted into? Personally, I'm aiming for Gryffindor. My entire family has been in Gryffindor," Ron continued, letting his gaze alternate between Harry and Hermione.
"Uhh... sorted into the whatnow?" Harry asked, clearly confused. He knew precious little about Hogwarts after all, apart from the fact that it was supposed to be a magical school.
"He's talking about the four Houses of Hogwarts, Harry. Everyone is sorted into one when they arrive in their First Year, based on their personality, values and ambition," Hermione explained, a wry smile flashing across her face. "You have Gryffindor, representing courage, chivalry and determination. Ravenclaw, representing wit, learning and wisdom. Hufflepuff, which is more inclusive than the other Houses, representing work, dedication, patience, loyalty, and fair play. And finally, Slytherin, representing cunning, resourcefulness, leadership and ambition."
"Huh..." Harry muttered, mulling over this new piece of information in his head. "I wonder which one I'll be sorted into..."
"I'm rather certain I'll be sorted into Ravenclaw," Hermione noted, turning to stare out of the window at the trees whizzing by. "It only makes sense, given my interest in learning and such."
"Ahh, okay... Well then I hope I get sorted into Ravenclaw as well," Harry nodded, causing Hermione to shoot him a surprised look.
"Why?" she asked, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.
"Because... I also really like learning... and... you're going to be there," he answered, a slight blush erupting across his cheeks.
"O-Oh..." Hermione mumbled in response, a similar blush coloring her own cheeks as she diverted her gaze back out the window.
"Do you think they'll let me be on the Quidditch team if I beat the captain in Wizard's Chess?" Ron asked, completely oblivious to the weird tension that had descended upon their little compartment.
The Great Hall
"SILENCE!"
The voice of Albus Dumbledore carried itself far and wide throughout the Great Hall, cutting through and silencing the cheerful chatter in all but an instant. An eerie, incessant silence descended upon the room in its wake, as everyone's attention was directed towards the Headmaster in suspenseful anticipation.
"We are gathered here tonight to celebrate a very special event," Dumbledore started, his sonorous voice rippling across the stone walls. "As you all know, this school has been selected to host an extraordinary event known as the Triwizard Tournament this year!"
The silence stretched on as Dumbledore took a moment to gaze out over the sea of students. Everyone knew what most likely came next. The introduction of the other schools. Most of the students present here had already seen them arrive earlier that very day, after all. Harry and Hermione hadn't, busy as they had been reminiscing about their past, but judging by what they had heard, it had been a most breathtaking sight. A flying carriage drawn by large, winged horses descending upon the castle from the skies, and a magnificent ship emerging from the depths of the Black Lake.
"A little while ago, I received news that our friends from France and the far north have arrived here on the grounds. So I expect all of you to be on your best behavior, and join me in welcoming them to our school," Dumbledore continued, his eyes sweeping over the hall before settling on the double doors at the back. "I believe introductions are in order. First up are the lovely ladies from the French school of wizardry, Beauxbatons Academy of Magic!"
As he shouted out the name of the school, the enormous wooden doors leading in to the Great Hall suddenly flew open, and in came an array of girls, all dressed in stark blue colors. An army of transfigured doves emerged from underneath their clothes as they walked, making the other students in the Great Hall gasp in surprise. Following behind them was what could only be described as a massive woman the size of Hagrid, dressed in superfluous clothing.
All of the girls were beautiful in their own ways, but what caught everyone's attention the most was definitely the one walking next to the enormous woman Harry assumed to be their Headmistress. With long, silvery-blonde hair, deep blue eyes and spotless skin, she was so breathtakingly gorgeous that the room seemed to become strangely airless when you looked at her. There was also an odd sense of magical aura hanging around her, almost as if her very presence emanated a faint, silvery glow.
Looking around, Harry could see that the other males in the room had all stopped to stare at her, dumb looks on their faces and eyes glazed over with desire and longing. Confused, he turned to look at the girl once more, and was surprised to feel a slight tug at his magic, a tug which gradually grew in intensity until it became downright annoying. Scoffing, Harry emptied his mind of unnecessary thoughts like he had learned to do through his Occlumency studies, and found with some level of satisfaction that the tug quickly evaporated as soon as he did so.
Turning to ask Hermione what this was all about, he was surprised to find his girlfriend looking positively furious, staring daggers at the unknown girl. He had never seen Hermione look at anyone apart from Draco Malfoy that way, and wisely chose to hold his tongue. He supposed he could ask her about it later, once she had calmed down from whatever had her so riled up.
The ladies of Beauxbatons stopped twice on their way up towards the podium, extending their arms out towards either side of the room in a welcoming gesture. As they reached the front of the hall, they split up into two groups, with one girl splitting off to the middle to perform what looked like French ballet. Her moves were graceful, calm and collected, and Harry had to applaud her for her efforts.
As her dancing came to a halt, the students were ripped from their trance-like state, and a massive round of applause filled the hall. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noted that the girls didn't appear to be nearly as enthusiastic about the Beauxbatons' students arrival as the males.
"Now, however charming these young ladies may be, they are not the only students that will be joining us at Hogwarts this year. Allow me to now introduce the proud sons of the Durmstrang Institute!" Dumbledore continued, throwing his arms out to either side
Another flock of students came marching into the Great Hall, except these ones were far more intimidating than the beautiful girls of Beauxbatons. Holding what looked like bronze rods in their hands, they slammed them into the ground at regular intervals, each crack of the rods eliciting a shower of sparks that scattered across the stone tiles. Walking behind the two groups of rod-carriers were two masculine-looking men, one considerably older than the other one.
Harry guessed the eldest one to be the Headmaster, but the younger one… It took Harry a moment to recognize him, but once he did, the realization came as quite the shock. The younger boy was Victor Krum, the famous Bulgarian seeker that had participated in the Quidditch World Cup just months earlier. He walked with all the confidence one would normally associate with a world-famous athlete, the Russian ushanka on his head hammering home the image of a robust northerner.
As they reached the front of the hall, the two groups with the rods split off, leaving a sole man in the middle who got down on one knee, summoning a phoenix made of crackling fire from his mouth.
The applause was somewhat weaker than that which the Beauxbatons students received, but it was still more than loud enough, with some students even leaving their seats to give a standing ovation. Their Headmaster, whom Dumbledore introduced as Igor Karkaroff, nodded in response with a crooked smile on his face, clearly proud of his students.
A few seconds later, when the applause died down a bit, Dumbledore yet again opened his mouth to speak.
"I hope that all Hogwarts students will welcome these new arrivals as if they were your own brothers and sisters. I don't want to see any boorish or disrespectful behavior from any of you, is that understood? These are your fellow wizards and witches, and are therefore worthy of your respect. So please treat them as such."
The solemn silence that filled the hall at his words seemed to be answer enough for Dumbledore.
"Now then, to reiterate: the process of selecting the champions will be taken care of by the Goblet of Fire. Each student over the age of 17 that wishes to enter the Triwizard Tournament will have to place a piece of parchment with their name on it into the Goblet, and in 48 hours, it will select one champion from each school, based on who it feels are the most worthy to participate."
In front of him, a bearskin cover came floating down from the magical ceiling, landing on an invisible object that had apparently been there all along. With a wave of his hand, Dumbledore removed the cover, exposing a huge bronze Goblet with a crackling blue flame shining brightly from its peak. The students gathered in the Great Hall was nothing short of entranced by its magical beauty, especially by the blue flame at the top. It seemed to have a will of its own, bending and twisting with such ferocity and life that it seemed unnatural for a flame.
"And finally…" Dumbledore nodded, gesturing towards the four gargantuan tables as food materialized from thin air on all of them. "Let us all take part in this grand feast to celebrate the arrival of our honored guests!"
The next thirty minutes or so was spent partaking in one of the best meals Harry had had during his three-ish years at Hogwarts. The mood around the Ravenclaw table was light and cheerful, and so he spent his time happily conversing with Hermione, completely oblivious to the stare of one particular French Veela, who was growing increasingly furious at his inability to notice her.
A/N: And there we go! This chapter was significantly longer than usual, which I hope helped alleviate the pain of me being so ridiculously slow to update. A lot of stuff happened in this chapter, so it took longer than anticipated to write, which I do apologize for. Things are going to be speeding up now as we head into the Triwizard Tournament Arc, so expect the pace to pick up significantly from here on out.
I would also like to thank PotterDieHardFan for leaving a hilarious review that had me in stitches at just how insanely inaccurate it was. Reading your review makes it painfully obvious that you did not read a single paragraph of this story before leaving your review, which I believe is directly contradictory to the nature and purpose of the Review function. Nevertheless, it did bring a smile to my face, so I thank you for that.
As a side note, I would like to make it clear that Beauxbatons is NOT, in fact, an all-girls school, even if I portrayed it as such in this chapter. It does have an overwhelming majority of girls, yes, but there are boys attending the school (including alumni such as Nicholas Flamel, actually) which I will be working with in the story going forward. Durmstrang is also NOT an all-boys school, even if it was portrayed as such in the movies and in this chapter.