CHAPTER EIGHT: NEW RIVALS, OLD FRIENDS

Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley's Dormitory Room

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland

6 September 1994

Harry swung his feet idly at his desk as he worked through a veritable mountain of homework. Even though the term had scarcely started, the teachers had already begun to pile on work. Harry had been getting strange dreams, too, but he could never seem to remember them when he woke up. It was quite bizarre, and Harry had the niggling feeling he was missing something important.

Frowning, Harry put the finishing touches on his essay detailing the differences between cats and Kneazles before moving on to the rest of his homework. He had Professor Vance again for Charms, which meant plenty of extra reading. Hermione, of course, was a big fan of Professor Vance's methods, but Harry wished the man was more a fan of practice rather than theory. Ancient Runes was also more difficult this year, as they would not only be delving deeper into the syntax of the runic languages they'd learned the previous year, but also learning how to apply Runes to spellcasting, which Harry found exciting.

The fourth year Herbology professor, Professor Oleander, was regarded as the easiest professor in terms of exams, but was rather fond of handing out group projects. Harry had lucked out and been assigned Neville Longbottom as a partner, who, despite his clumsiness, was a veritable genius at Herbology.

Despite the amount of work that Herbology had piled on with the group project, Potions and Transfiguration had taken the cake by assigning the most amount of work. Both Professor Selwyn and Professor Cornfoot insisted that .s were around the corner, a sentiment that only Hermione and a handful of Ravenclaws seemed to agree with. After Sally-Anne Perks and Wayne Hopkins from Hufflepuff had both melted their cauldrons, and Neville Longbottom had been rumored to have melted a small hole the dungeon floor, Professor Selwyn had substantially increased their workload, and even threatened to have them test their own antidotes if they didn't improve enough by the end of the month.

Harry stretched luxuriously, and proceeded to slog through several Ancient Runes translations before Ron stepped in.

"Dinner, Harry?"

"Yeah. Just let me finish this…" Harry squinted at the runes, and polished off his last answer. "All right, I'm ready."

"Were you doing the Runes homework?" Ron asked as they fell into step.

Harry nodded. "It's not too bad, really."

"Thank Merlin. I haven't even started mine - Professor Boyet loaded us up with an absurd amount of Arithmancy homework."

"In that case, I've never been more glad that I haven't taken Arithmancy."

"Eh, I'm glad I did. It's really interesting, even if it is a lot of work."

Harry elbowed Ron. "You're starting to sound like Hermione!"

Ron elbowed him back. "Oh, shut up."

Harry sniggered, and they made their way into the Great Hall. Dinner, as usual, was delicious, and Harry ate far too much treacle tart afterwards.

Professor Dumbledore stood, and the Great Hall quickly fell quiet. "As some of you may already be aware, the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at six o'clock on this Friday, the 9th of September. Lessons will end half an hour early, and students will return their bags and books to their dormitories prior to assembling on the front lawn to greet our guests before the Welcoming Feast.

"Please be aware, that while the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be our competitors during the Triwizard Tournament, they will also be learning alongside us this year. They will be attending Hogwarts classes, living in the West Wing of the castle, and will form part of our Quidditch teams this year. I highly encourage each and every one of you to reach out to a student from Beauxbatons or Durmstrang and not only make them feel at home here at Hogwarts, but also seize the opportunity to learn about their background and culture.

"Details about the Triwizard Tournament, the Quidditch tournament, and the Dueling tournament will be shared with everyone during the Welcoming Feast. Any immediate questions or concerns can be taken to a prefect or your Head of House. Thank you for your attention."

Professor Dumbledore returned to his seat, and a dull roar of conversation was restored in the Great Hall.

"Do you know anyone coming?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded absently, mind busy spinning Quidditch dreams. "Yeah, I think Stefan and his brother are coming, and so's the lot of Malfoy's cousins."

"Wait, Viktor Krum is still in school?"

Harry pulled out of his thoughts. "Yeah, and keep it quiet for now. He's a bit worried about all the attention, you know. Stefan says he justs wants a relatively quiet year and to do well on his exams."

"Well, maybe he shouldn't have come to Britain, then," Ron quipped.

"He didn't have much choice," Harry said idly, mind back on Quidditch. "Politics being what they are. He's got a couple cousins who are right crazy about that kind of thing, and Viktor doesn't want any of them to get brassed off."

Ron looked pensive. "Huh."

"Mmhmm. I'm heading back to our room. I gotta finish the Runes homework and maybe get in some extra practice for Defense. I need to figure out how to beat Malfoy."

The rest of the week seemed to fly by, as assignments were due and Wizarding Studies tried to cram last minute etiquette lessons into everyone's heads. Before Harry knew it, they'd escaped Potions early, and were lining up in front of the castle. The professors walked up and down the lines of students, enforcing order and decorum. Harry watch Professor McGonagall snap at poor Neville Longbottom, whose tie had been crooked, and at the Gryffindor Patil twin, who had a large glittery butterfly in her hair.

Professor Prince made the same rounds through the Slytherins, stopping in front of Harry's group. "Really, Potter, you could have at least done something to make your hair look halfway presentable."

Harry grimaced. "Sorry, professor."

Prince moved on, and Harry was certain he'd seen the man roll his eyes.

"It's nearly six o'clock," Ron said, checking his watch and squinting into the dusky evening. "How do you think they're arriving? I don't reckon they'd take the train."

"A Portkey, maybe?" Harry suggested. "It's not like they can Apparate inside Hogwarts grounds, and we wouldn't be outside if they were using the Floo."

"I doubt it," Hermione said. "Long distance Portkeys make you feel ill, and I don't think they'd want us gathered outside to watch them try not to vomit and fall over."

"Good point." Ron rubbed his arms. "However they're getting here, I wish they'd hurry up!"

Harry nodded, scanning the grounds for any sight of unusual activity. Beauxbatons and Durmstrang both were too far away for broomsticks to be a reasonable form of travel. Harry wondered if they were taking the European equivalent of the Knight Bus when the Headmaster called out from the back row.

"Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

"Where?"

"Do you see them?"

Students craned their necks, looking in different directions in an attempt to spot the Beauxbatons delegation.

"There!" shouted a sixth year. "Over the Forbidden Forest!"

Something large and round was hurtling across the deep purple sky across the Forbidden Forest, growing larger as it approached.

"It's a dragon!" shouted a Hufflepuff first year.

"Don't be stupid! Wizards can't ride dragons!"

"It's blimp!" yelled Justin Finch-Fletchley.

"No, it's a flying house!"

The flying whatever-it-was skimmed the treetops, and drew closer to the castle. Once the lights from the windows hit it, it was clear that while it was the size of a large house, it looked like something out of a fairy tale. A team of elephant-sized winged horses - Harry was pretty sure they were Abraxans - were pulling a powder-blue carriage with a crest of two crossed, golden wands, each emitting three stars emblazoned on each door.

The carriage landed with a loud thud, causing Neville Longbottom to leapt backwards in surprise, squashing Barclay Urquhart's toes. The Slytherin protested quietly, and quickly shut up when a boy in pale blue robes exited the carriage and unfolded a set of golden steps. He stepped back respectively. An enormous shoe, bigger than Harry's old cupboard door, descended, followed by the tallest woman Harry had ever seen. If he had to guess, she couldn't have been more than a centimeter shorter than Hagrid the Groundskeeper, who was previously the tallest - and largest - person he'd ever met.

The Headmaster started to clap as he made his way through the crowd, and the students quickly followed suit.

Dumbledore kissed the woman's outstretched hand. "My dear Madame Maxime, I cordially welcome you to Hogwarts."

Madame Maxime smiled graciously. "Dumbly-door, I thank you for your welcome. I 'ope you are well?"

"In excellent form, I thank you."

"My pupils," said Madame Maxime, gesturing behind herself.

There were a little over a dozen students standing behind Madame Maxime, all dressed in silk blue robes. None of them were wearing cloaks, which Harry found quite foolish since Scottish weather was fairly well known. The younger students were staring up at Hogwarts in awe; the older ones looked apprehensive.

"'As Karkaroff arrived yet?" Madame Maxime asked.

"Not yet," said Dumbledore as he scanned the grounds. "He should arrive any moment. Would you prefer to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"

"Warm up, I think. But ze 'orses -"

"Our Groundskeeper will take care of them. I assure you, he is perfectly qualified."

Madame Maxime looked slightly skeptical until Hagrid made his way through the crowd. Idly, Harry noticed he was right regarding their respective heights.

"Very well," Madame Maxime said. "Be aware zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whiskey."

Hagrid nodded in acknowledgement, and Madame Maxime gestured her students forward through the crowd and into the warmth of Hogwarts.

"I hope Durmstrang arrive soon," Hermione said, shifting from foot to foot, "my toes are freezing."

They waited, shivering slightly as the moon rose over the Forbidden Forest. Some students stood watching sky, clearly anticipating another carriage, while others scanned the grounds.

"Do you hear that?" Ron asked suddenly.

Harry strained his ears. "Yeah...sounds a bit like a vacuum cleaner…"

"Huh?"

"Nevermind."

"Look at the lake!" yelled a Gryffindor.

Harry watched in awe as ripples, then a small whirlpool formed at the center of the Black Lake. A long, black pole began to rise slowly out of the lake, followed by rigging. Moonlight gleamed of the shining black wood as the rest of the ship rose out of the water. It had a skeletal look to it, and Harry fancied it looked a bit like the Flying Dutchman. Dim, misty lights shone from the portholes, furthering the illusion. With a great sloshing noise not unlike a plunger being removed from a toilet, the ship fully emerged from the lake and settled onto the surface of the water. An anchor splashed into the water, and a plank was lowered to the bank with a slight thud.

People began to disembark, and they all appeared to be rather pudgy. As they drew closer, Harry realized they weren't actually large, but rather wearing cloaks of a shaggy fur. The man leading them, presumably Karkaroff, was dressed in far nicer furs in a sleek shade of silver.

"Dumbledore!" he called heartily, his friendly tone not reaching his eyes, "How are you?"

"Quite well, as always," Professor Dumbledore said, reaching out to shake the other wizard's hand.

Karkaroff gazed up at Hogwarts. "Ah, Hogwarts, what a sight for sore eyes! How good it is to be here, how good...Viktor, come along, into the warmth...you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold…"

Karkaroff beckoned Viktor forward, and a furor of whispers passed through the student body.

Harry looked sideways at Ron. "Viktor's going to be real annoyed. Karkaroff's always trying to show him off...think his fame will rub off on him somehow."

Ron winced. "I see what you mean. And I'm glad I got his autograph at the World Cup this summer so I won't embarrass myself like those idiots over there."

Harry looked over at a pair of witches who were debating whether Viktor would sign their hats in lipstick and winced. "Poor bloke's going to have his work cut out for him."

Ron nodded emphatically. "Yeah. Oh, look, they're finally letting us back in."

They made their way back into the Great Hall where the Beauxbatons students had already established themselves at the Ravenclaw table. "A bit bold, that," Harry noted.

Ron snorted. "Maybe they thought all the blue was for them."

Harry and Ron made their way past the Durmstrang contingent, who were all gathered at the door, clearly unsure of where to sit now that the Hogwarts students were filing into the Great Hall. Harry quickly made eye contact with Stefan, and gestured towards the Slytherin table. The Bulgarian whispered something to his brother, and the Durmstrang students made their way over.

"Oi, budge up, Ron, make space for the Krums…"

Ron scooted over, and both Krum brothers sat down, ignoring some of the jealous glares of the other Slytherins.

"Nice hall you all have here," Viktor said, Bulgarian accent slightly noticeable. "It is much more...artistic than the one we have at Durmstrang."

"And much warmer too," Stefan complained, pulling off his furs to reveal blood red robes, "They told us it would be cold in Scotland. Pffft, you don't understand cold until you have been outside at Durmstrang in the winter."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Sure."

"Who's that?" Viktor asked suddenly.

"Who?"

"The girl, several seats down, with the curly hair."

"Oh, that's Hermione. Hermione Granger," Harry said easily. "Any reason for asking?"

Viktor shrugged. "Not really. She looks a bit like my cousin, that's all. I was wondering if she was related, but I don't think we have any relatives named Granger."

Stefan craned his neck to get a better look. "She does look a bit like Darya, doesn't she?"

"Who do you think they're adding chairs for?" Ron interrupted, looking at the High Table.

Harry took a look. Sure enough, there were four extra chairs added. "Dunno. Two have to be for Madame Maxime and Karkaroff."

"Obviously. But the other two?"

Harry shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

At last, everyone was settled, excluding the two extra chairs at the High Table, and the Headmaster stood.

Professor Dumbledore spread his arms wide, smiling genially. "Good evening, ladies, gentlemen, ghosts, and most particularly, our honored guests. I am incredibly pleased to welcome you all to Hogwarts, and I hope and trust that your stay here will be comfortable, enjoyable, and educational. The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," Professor Dumbledore continued. "Now, I invite you to each, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

Immediately, the plates filled themselves of food, and while there were the usual assortment of steak-and-kidney pie and toad-in-the-hole, there were several tureens of food Harry didn't recognize, including something that looked like a shellfish stew. Not being an overly adventurous eater, Harry helped himself to the steak-and-kidney pie and amused himself by watching classmates attempt to be sophisticated with the foreign food. Well, most of his classmates, that was. Hermione and Draco seemed to actually be enjoying the shellfish stew, and not simply eating it for social kudos.

They were at least twenty minutes into the feast when the two extra chairs were filled. One was occupied by Ludo Bagman, which wasn't surprising given that the Department of Magical Games and Sports had helped organize the Triwizard Tournament. The other was filled by a thin man with greying hair who Harry quickly recognized as Lord Bartemius Crouch.

"I thought Crouch was fired!" Harry whispered to Ron.

"Shhh! Not so loud. He was, ah, temporarily moved to another department when the scandal with his son blew up again, but he's back with the Department of International Magical Cooperation. They had someone else doing his job for a bit, and realized that while Crouch has gotten a lot of bad press, he's kind of indispensable. At least that's what Percy told me - Crouch is his boss - and while Crouch is a pretentious arse, he knows how to do his job."

"I see."

The desserts came out shortly after, and were just as diverse as the main course. Harry was feeling a bit bolder, and sampled some of the French desserts, which turned out to be quite tasty. Finally, when the last of the desserts vanished from the plates, Professor Dumbledore stood once more.

"Now that everyone is fed and watered, I do believe the moment you all have been waiting for is upon us. Before we bring out the casket -"

A murmur of interest passed through the Great Hall.

"-I would like to say a few words to acknowledge the work that two individuals put in to make this Triwizard Tournament a possibility. Please give a round of appleasure for Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, and for Lord Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

Everyone diligently brought their hands together.

"Not only have Mr. Bagman and Lord Crouch worked for months on arranging the tournament, but they also will be joining myself, Madam Maxime, and Professor Karkaroff in the judging panel." Professor Dumbledore paused for a moment. "Mr. Filch, if you could bring out the casket."

Filch emerged from the shadows carrying a large, jewel-encrusted casket as the entire Great Hall seemed to hold its breath.

"Mr. Bagman and Lord Crouch have already examined the instructions and challenges that each champion will face during the course of the tournament. There will be four tasks - three individual, and one where you must collaborate with the other two champions from your school for a team effort. These tasks will be spaced throughout the school year, and will test the champions' magical prowess, daring, deduction, and ability to cope with danger.

"Three champions will be chosen from each school," Professor Dumbledore continued, "one from years three to four, one from years five to six, and one to those who are of age. The date of the first task will not be until after the 31st of October, so sixth year students who will turn seventeen prior to then should enter in the 'of age' tournament. The champions will be chosen by an impartial judge, which will not chose select you if you placed your name incorrectly. Now, you must be wondering what is meant by that. May I introduce you to… The Goblets of Fire!"

With that, Professor Dumbledore tapped his wand thrice on the casket and reached deep inside to pull out a large, rough hewn goblet filled with dancing blue flames. He reached inside again, and pulled out two smaller flame-filled goblets, one brilliant silver and the other a rich bronze.

"Anyone who wishes to enter themselves as a champion must write their name and school on a piece of parchment and submit it to the correct goblet; the bronze goblet is for years three and four, the silver goblet is for years five and six, and the wooden goblet is for those who are of age. I strongly discourage cheating, and each goblet will have an age line around it to prevent anyone from entering in the wrong goblet. Aspiring champions will have twenty-four hours to submit their names to the Goblets of Fire, and tomorrow evening the champions will be revealed.

"Before anyone enters their name, I would like to make several conditions clear: firstly, the submission of your name constitutes a magically binding agreement. If you enter your name, you have fully committed yourself to becoming your school's champion if the goblet chooses your name. Secondly, for those of you who play Quidditch, tryouts will be held shortly after the champions are chosen. If you are chosen as a champion, you are still allowed to play Quidditch; however, you will not be eligible to be a team captain.

"The Goblets of Fire will be in the Entrance Hall. Please take the next day to carefully consider whether or not you would like to enter. With that said, I would like to extend one final welcome to our guests, and wish all of you a good night."

There was a mild ruckus as everyone stood. Hermione bustled over to them. "So? Are you going to enter?"

Ron grinned. "You bet!"

Harry thought for a moment. As much as he wanted to captain a Quidditch team, the Triwizard Tournament sounded far more exciting, as well as a chance for him to prove that he was good at something other than Quidditch. Harry grinned broadly. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

A/N: Parts of the chapter have been heavily borrowed from chapters fifteen and sixteen of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.