Disclaimer: I don't own HP, I only own Evan and Iris.
There's a bit of French in this chapter, but it's pretty easy to understand, and Aludra explains what she and Fleur were saying, so I didn't bother translating it.
Read, enjoy and review!
Published 16-2-2024
Chapter Nine
The Choosing of the Champions
Aludra felt a tinge of despair at the way people were acting. Some girl was wondering if Krum would sign her hat in lipstick, a bunch of boys were straining to catch a second glimpse of Krum, and Ron was loudly asking everyone around him if they had a quill.
"This is embarrassing," she hissed to her friends as they followed the Durmstrang students into the Great Hall. "He's a human being, not an exhibit in a menagerie! Those idiots will humiliate Hogwarts!"
"Poor guy," Evan agreed sympathetically. "I know that I hate being treated like that. And you're right that it won't do Hogwarts any good image-wise. Maybe the Beauxbatons students will act the same way and it won't be so embarrassing?"
Several people heard them, and spread the word of the opinion of the Boy-Who-Lived and Dumbledore and McGonagall's granddaughter. People who had been trying to gawk flushed red. Except for a few (*cough, Ron, cough*), most of them snapped out of it and began acting normally again, smoothing their robes and pasting on calm expressions, thanks be to the Goddess. After all, they were used to having a celebrity among them, and people generally acted normal around Evan.
They entered the Great Hall to find their guests had already chosen seats. The Beauxbatons group were shivering miserably at the Ravenclaw table, while the Durmstrang students had taken seats at the Slytherin one. Malfoy and his cronies quickly made their way to Krum's side and sat down, before Malfoy leaned over to talk to Krum, who seemed disinterested to judge from his expression.
Up at the high table, Filch had added four extra chairs.
"Why's he added four chairs when there's only two extra people?" Evan wondered.
"The Ministerial judges are coming to open the Tournament," Aludra explained as the four of them took their seats.
Once all of the students had entered the Hall and settled down at their House tables, the staff entered, filing up to the high table and taking their seats. Last in line were Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime. When their Headmistress appeared, the pupils from Beauxbatons leapt to their feet. A few of the Hogwarts students laughed. The Beauxbatons party were indifferent to that, however, and waited to resume their seats until Madame Maxime had sat down on Dumbledore's left-hand side. Dumbledore, however, remained standing, and a silence fell over the Great Hall.
"Good evening, witches and wizards, ghosts and – most particularly – guests," Dumbledore declared, beaming around at them all. "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 Beauxbatons girls still clutching a muffler around her head gave what was unmistakeably a derisive laugh.
Aludra pursed her lips, knowing she gained an uncanny resemblance to her grandmother when she did so, and shot the girl a stern look. The girl looked away.
"Nobody held a wand to her head and forced her to come," Susan muttered to them huffily. "If she didn't want to come, she shouldn't have volunteered." Based on the research they'd done for Cedric during the summer, all the delegates were volunteers eager to represent their school and test their mettle.
"The Tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," Dumbledore informed them. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"
He sat down, and Aludra saw Karkaroff lean forward at once and engage him in conversation.
The dishes in front of them filled with food as usual. The house-elves in the kitchen seemed to have pulled out all the stops; there was a greater variety of dishes in front of them than Aludra had ever seen, including several foreign dishes.
"The elves certainly pulled out all the stops, didn't they?" Evan commented, eyeing the foreign dishes with suspicious interest.
"Give this a try," Aludra urged him, passing him the bouillabaisse. "It's called bouillabaisse, and it's quite tasty."
"Alright," Evan agreed dubiously, beginning to dig into his dinner. "Huh, it is good," he noted after tentatively tasting the bouillabaisse. He dug in more enthusiastically to it, and Aludra grinned smugly.
The Great Hall somehow felt much more crowded than usual, even though there were barely forty additional students there; perhaps it was because their differently coloured uniforms stood out so clearly against the black of the Hogwarts robes. Now that they had removed their furs, the Durmstrang students were revealed to be wearing robes of a deep, blood red.
Hagrid sidled into the Hall through a door behind the staff table twenty minutes after the start of the feast. He slid into his seat at the end and waved at Aludra and her friends with a very heavily bandaged hand.
"I don't want to know," Susan muttered, as they waved back at him.
"Me either," Aludra grimaced. She loved Hagrid dearly, but he had very different standards of beauty than her.
At that moment, a voice said, "Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?"
It was the girl from Beauxbatons who had laughed during Dumbledore's speech. She had finally removed her muffler. A long sheet of silvery blonde hair fell almost to her waist. She had large, deep blue eyes, and very white, even teeth.
"Yeah, have it," Evan replied, pushing the dish towards the girl.
"You 'ave finished wiz it?"
"Oui," Aludra smiled. "Merci. Voulez-vous autre chose?"
"Non, merci," the girl answered, looking surprised. "Parlez-vous francais?"
"Oui," Aludra confirmed. "Je m'appelle Aludra Black. Ma famille a une maison dans les Alpes."
"Aludra Black?" The girl repeated. "La petite-fille de Dumbledore?"
"Oui," Aludra repeated.
"Je m'appelle Fleur Delacour," Fleur said, smiling a dazzling smile. Down the table, Ron was practically choking as he stared at her open-mouthed. It was quite embarrassing for the Gryffindors really.
"Je dois y aller, mais j'espère que nous pourrons reparler," Fleur said tentatively.
"Bien sur," Aludra answered. "J'attends cela avec impatience."
"Moi, aussi," Fleur stated, before she picked up the dish and carried it carefully off to the Ravenclaw table.
"Since when do you speak French?" Evan asked in surprise.
"Since I was seven," Aludra stated. "We have property in the Alps that we often holiday at, and Aunt Cassiopeia, may she rest in Hecate's embrace, thought all Black ladies should know both French and Latin."
"Huh," Evan mused. "Well, what were you saying?"
"Nothing much," Aludra answered dismissively. "We introduced ourselves, I explained that we have property in France and said we would speak again."
"It doesn't look like any of her friends came with her," Susan remarked lowly, "Look."
They glanced over discreetly, seeing that Fleur was indeed sitting on her own, and several of her fellow Beauxbatons students were casting her cold looks. The girls, at least. Most boys were just ogling her.
"The Delacours are part Veela," Neville revealed quietly to Evan, no doubt recalling their endless hours reciting the family trees of every important European pureblood family under Aunt Cassiopeia's stern gaze. "Lady Consort Apolline Delacour is half-Veela through her mother. Fleur must be her eldest daughter. They have two. The youngest is eight."
"France is a lot more liberal than Britain," Aludra added. "Having creature heritage isn't seen as shameful over there."
"Huh, cool," Evan commented.
"Oh, look who's just arrived," Susan said distastefully, nodding towards the high table. The other three turned to look.
Aludra grimaced in dissatisfaction when her gaze fell on the two new arrivals. She wasn't surprised, but she couldn't say she was happy about the chosen Ministry judges either.
Ludo Bagman was now sitting on Professor Karkaroff's other side, while Mr Crouch, the Head of the DMIC, was next to Madame Maxime.
When the second course arrived they noticed a number of unfamiliar puddings, too. Aludra saw Ron examine a Tarte Tatin closely, then move it carefully a few inches to his right, so that it would be clearly visible from the Ravenclaw table. Fleur, however, did not come over to get it. Aludra suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at him.
What was with Ron and being a pig towards women this year? Was it just hormones revealing a hereto-hidden aspect of his character, or what?
Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again. A pleasant sort of tension seemed to fill the Hall now. It was impossible not to become excited at whatever was to come.
"The moment has come," Granddad announced regally, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket, just to clarify the procedure which we will be following this year.
But firstly, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation" – there was a smattering of polite applause – "and Mr Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."
There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps because of his fame as a Beater, or simply because he looked so much more personable. He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand. Bartemius Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced. He simply stared stonily outward.
"Mr Bagman and Mr Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwixen Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime on the panel which will judge the Champions' efforts."
At the mention of the word 'Champions', the attentiveness of the listening students seemed to sharpen.
Perhaps Granddad had noticed their sudden stillness, for he smiled as he said, "The casket, then, if you please, Mr Filch."
Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall, now approached Dumbledore, carrying a great wooden chest, encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students; Dennis Creevey actually stood on his chair to see it properly, but, being so tiny, his head hardly rose above anyone else's.
"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr Crouch and Mr Bagman," Dumbledore informed them, as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. 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."
At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing.
"As you know, three Champions compete in the Tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "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 Triwixen Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector … the Goblet of Fire."
Dumbledore now took out his wand, and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. Dumbledore reached inside it, and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable, had it not been full to the brim with dancing, blue-white flames. Aludra was fascinated. It must have been Runes that were used to Enchant it, and she'd just die if she ever got the chance to study how it worked.
Really, sometimes she thought it was a shame that she wanted to be an Auror so much, because being an Enchantress would be fascinating.
Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the Goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall.
"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 explained. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Samhain eve, 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.
To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation, he continued, "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."
Aludra glanced over her shoulder at the Hufflepuff table and saw Cedric staring fixedly at the Goblet. She knew then that, regardless of any doubts he felt, Cedric would enter the competition.
"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this Tournament is not to be entered into lightly," the Headmaster warned, expression turning grave. "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 Champion, regardless of the reason. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are whole-heartedly prepared to play, before you drop your name into the Goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Goodnight to you all."
Aludra rose to her feet. "I want to speak to Cedric," she told her friends. "I'll meet you at the Common Room."
"See you there," Susan answered, before Aludra hurried through the crush to find Cedric.
"Cedric! Cedric!" Her surrogate brother paused and turned to grin at her.
"Everything alright, Ally?" He asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
"When are you going to enter?" She responded in a low voice.
"Tonight," he told her in the same tone. "Just before curfew. I don't want an audience."
"I wouldn't want one either," Aludra agreed. She leaned her head against his shoulder. "You're going to be chosen, you know," she stated, calmly but firmly. "And you're going to win."
"I'll do my best, and that's the best I can do," Cedric said, chanting the motto his mother, Elanora, often said to them growing up.
"The best you can do is pretty impressive," Aludra smiled.
"Right back atcha, little sister," Cedric chuckled. "Right back atcha."
As the next day was Saturday, most students would normally have breakfasted late. Aludra and her friends, however, were not alone in rising much earlier than they usually did at weekends. When they went down into the Entrance Hall, they saw about twenty people milling around it, some of them eating toast, all examining the Goblet of Fire. It had been placed in the centre of the hall on the stool that normally bore the Sorting Hat. A thin golden line had been traced on the floor, forming a circle ten feet around it in every direction.
"Anyone put their name in yet?" Evan asked a third-year girl.
"All the Durmstrang lot," she replied. "But I haven't seen anyone from Hogwarts yet."
"Cedric said he was putting his name in last night," Aludra offered.
"I'd do that too," Evan agreed. "Imagine if you had an audience and the Goblet just gobbed you back out again!"
Someone laughed behind them before Aludra could assure him that was very unlikely to happen. Turning, she saw Fred, George and Lee Jordan hurrying down the staircase, all three of them looking extremely excited.
"Done it," Fred whispered triumphantly to them. "Just taken it."
"Taken what?" Neville frowned.
"The Ageing Potion, of course," Fred said in a 'duh' tone of voice.
"One drop each," said George, rubbing his hands together with glee. "We only need to be a few months older."
"We're going to split the thousand Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins," Lee added, grinning broadly.
"This isn't going to work, you know," Aludra warned. "Granddad will definitely have thought of something as simple as this."
Fred, George and Lee ignored her.
"Ready?" Fred asked the other two, quivering with excitement. "C'mon, then – I'll go first –"
Aludra watched, crossing her arms and giving them her best imitation of her grandmother's Look of Disapproval as Fred pulled a slip of parchment out of his pocket, bearing the words 'Fred Weasley – Hogwarts'. Fred walked right up to the edge of the line, and stood there, rocking on his toes like a diver preparing for a fifty-foot drop. Then, with the eyes of every person in the Entrance Hall upon him, he took a great breath and stepped over the line.
Aludra waited patiently, though everyone else clearly believed it had worked. George certainly thought so, for he let out a yell of triumph and leapt after Fred – but next moment, there was a loud sizzling sound, and both twins were hurled out of the golden circle as though they had been thrown by an invisible shot-putter. They landed painfully, ten feet away on the cold stone floor, and to add insult to injury, there was a loud popping noise, and both of them sprouted identical, long white beards.
The Entrance Hall rang with laughter. Even Fred and George joined in, once they had got to their feet, and taken a good look at each other's beards.
"I did warn you," said a deep, amused voice, and everyone turned to see Professor Dumbledore coming out of the Great Hall. He surveyed Fred and George, his eyes twinkling. "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little, too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is as fine as yours."
Fred and George set off for the hospital wing, accompanied by Lee, who was howling with laughter, and Aludra and her friends, also chortling, went in to breakfast.
After breakfast, the four of them went to see Hagrid, as Cedric was having a birthday party for a first year Hufflepuff (there was a reason his House adored him so much, and a reason Aludra and her friends - save Evan, who didn't really know him - felt the same way). As it turned out, his bandaged hand was from him getting between two of the Gytrashes, the dog-like spirits with fangs and forked tails, when they were fighting over a stag they had downed and were about to eat (how there was any non-magical life to be hunted left in the Forbidden Forest, Aludra didn't know). Afterwards, they went to the Quidditch pitch, where the three of them flew around while Neville watched and read a book on Mediterranean plants Uncle Al had given him as a belated birthday present.
Aludra was practicing a dive (not a Wronski Feint, just a regular dive), when she spotted a red-clad figure walking onto the pitch, broom over his shoulder. She gestured to her friends and then she, Evan and Susan all flew down to the pitch where they dismounted and smiled politely in greeting at Viktor Krum.
"Viktor Krum, what a pleasure to meet you," Aludra said with a curtsey. The Durmstrang Institute was stricter about pureblood protocol, so it was best to be formal for the moment. Susan also curtsied, and Evan, who they had been tutoring on and off in pureblood manners and politics since first year, followed their lead with a bow. "I am Lady Aludra Black of House Urquart, Heiress of House Black and House Dumbledore. This is Lady Susan Bones, of House Bones, and Evan Potter, Heir Potter. Heir Neville Longbottom is in the stands." She gestured up at where Neville was peering down at them.
"I am Wiktor Krum. Please call me Wiktor," Krum bowed back. "You are wery impressiwe fliers," he said in a heavy Russian accent. "May I join you?"
"We'd be delighted," Aludra smiled. "Would you like to just fly, or prefer a pickup Quidditch game?"
"I just vish to fly," he stated. "It is-ah, calmly?"
"It's calming for me as well," Susan agreed, subtly correcting his English.
They kicked off and continued to fly for another hour, and by the time they dropped Viktor off at the ship, they'd agreed to play a few casual matches during the year, in the interests of furthering their ties.
Then, finally, it was time for the feast, and, more importantly, the Choosing of the Champions.
When they entered the candlelit Great Hall it was almost full. The Goblet of Fire had been moved; it was now standing in front of Dumbledore's empty chair at the teachers' table. Fred and George – clean shaven again – seemed to have taken their disappointment fairly well.
"Hope it's Angelina," said Fred, as the four of them sat down.
"I'll be glad for her if it's Angelina, but I hope it's Cedric," Aludra answered honestly.
"Fair enough, Lu," George acknowledged. "He is your brother, after all."
The Samhain feast seemed to take much longer than usual. Like everyone else in the Hall, judging by the constantly craning necks, the impatient expressions on every face, the fidgeting and the standing up to see whether Dumbledore had finished eating yet, Aludra simply wanted the plates to clear, and to hear who had been selected as the Champions.
At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state; there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall, which died away almost instantly as Professor Dumbledore got to his feet. On either side of him, Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Ludo Bagman was beaming and winking at various students, but then he winked at Aludra, and she shot him a Look. He paled, swallowed and stopped winking flirtatiously at underage girls, thank Merlin. Mr Crouch, however, looked quite uninterested, almost bored. Maybe it was the lighting, but Aludra thought there was a sickly cast to his pale complexion.
"Well, the Goblet is almost ready to make its decision," Granddad announced. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the Champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber' – he indicated the door behind the staff table – 'where they will be receiving their first instructions."
He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them all into a state of semi-darkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting … a few people kept checking their watches …
"Any second," Lee whispered, two seats away from Evan, across from Aludra.
The flames inside the Goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it – the whole room gasped. Several people leaned forward eagerly.
Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white.
"The Champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."
"No surprises there!" yelled Ron from beside the twins, as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Aludra saw Viktor rise from the Slytherin table, and slouch up towards Dumbledore before turning right, walking along the staff table, and disappearing through the door into the next chamber.
"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff as Viktor made his way up the Hall, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"
The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused again on the Goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.
"The Champion for Beauxbatons," Dumbledore called out, "is Fleur Delacour!"
The Hogwarts students clapped politely as Fleur rose to her feet with a grace Aludra envied, shook back her sheet of silvery blonde hair and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.
"Oh, look how disappointed they all are," Susan pointed out with a hint of amusement, nodding towards the remainder of the Beauxbatons party. To say they were 'disappointed' was an understatement. Two of the girls who had not been selected had dissolved into tears and were sobbing with their heads on their arms.
When Fleur, too, had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement you could almost taste it. The Hogwarts Champion would be chosen next …
And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.
"The Hogwarts Champion," he announced, "is Cedric Diggory!"
The uproar from the next table seemed loud enough to break all the glass in the hall, including Evan's glasses. Every single Hufflepuff (along with Aludra, Neville and Susan, and Evan copied them because he was a loyal friend) had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly, and headed off towards the chamber behind the teachers' table. Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again.
"Excellent!" Dumbledore declared happily, as at last the tumult died down. "Well, we now have our three Champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your Champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your Champion on, you will contribute in a very real –"
But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him.
The fire in the Goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment. Aludra felt dread crawl up her spine, and she wondered why she had been delusional enough to think that they would have a year free from
Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. His face paled and his mouth opened, but no sound came out. Aludra bit her cheek to hide her alarm. She had never seen her grandfather so discomposed before. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. And then Aludra's grandfather cleared his throat, and read out –
"Aludra Black!"