Dumbledore was in fine form at the morning feast. Today was Saturday, and a day that should have been given to sleeping in, if you were a sensible person, madly revising your many and varied classes, if you were Hermione, or burning through the air amidst a storm of bludgers with nothing but raw speed and instinct between you and death by enchanted cannonball if you were any of the Beater mad companions.
This Saturday, everyone was in the Great Hall, in formal robes, and seated at their House Tables because today marked the official start of the Triwizards Tournament. Minister for Magic Crouch and his Aurors were somewhere in the castle not being sniped at by Delores Umbridge for the crime of putting their elbows on the table or chatting with a neighbor instead of freezing in place for hours without a single risk of spilled food while two schools worth of champions somehow, probably not floo or portkey if they had to assemble outside, made their way to Hogwarts.
The students, being students, proceeded to feast and chat, and feast harder and chat louder when Delores Umbridge began shrilling at the students that anyone who spilled food would get detention, which Ron Weasley attempted to protest, blowing about half a pound of scrambled eggs, a toast crust and part of a sausage over Seamus Finnegan who had drawn the short straw to sit across from him.
This caused Fred and George to begin a Scourgify fight, as within moments, all the Gryffindor table had taken cover, such as they could find, and began to shoot at each other with overpowered cleansing charms. Slytherin looked on with horror, Ravenclaw with interest, and Hufflepuff just kept chewing through their own breakfast in the sure and certain knowledge that there was no point in scourgifying until the meal was actually finished.
Dumbledore was holding court at the head table with his staff and several members of the press, including Rita Skeeter who was only allowed into Hogwarts due to Augusta Longbottom and the Hogwarts Board of Directors overruling both Dumbledore and Minister Crouch about banning her from the castle for life, the next thousand years, or whichever was longer.
Dumbledore rose from his seat, and, fluffing his beard to its full splendor, used his magic to echo his words from the very stones of the castle.
"Students, staff, and honoured guests, I will ask that you join me in front of the castle by the Black Lake entrance where we will assemble by Houses to greet our honoured guests. When they have been given a proper Hogwarts welcome, Minister Crouch will bring in the Goblet of Fire and we shall begin the glorious Tri-Wizard tournament officially!" Dumbledore's speech did fire the students, and a raucous round of cheering was heard answering back his call.
With all the precision and discipline of four gaggles of geese attempting to exit a single barn door at the same time, the Hogwarts students displayed the same happy disarray that they gave to the school song, managing to cluster together into four amorphous blobs in house colours, bearing as much resemblance to Inquisitor Umbridge's commands of neat military lines as treacle tart does to high fiber, low fat diet.
Dumbledore looked pleased at the happy Hogwartian chaos, even as Snape quietly intimidated his Slytherins into something resembling a square. His efforts were frustrated when Milicent Bulstrode shouted across to Harry in a most Un-Slytherin fashion.
"Harry, I feel them. They are coming up through Black Lake, they must have followed the deep chanel from the sea!" Milicent shouted.
Professor Snape and Inquisitor Umbridge both shouted independently for Milicent to be silent, which the sturdy Slytherin beater chose to rise above and ignore.
Harry pointed to the sky. "MIllie, I feel them. Coming through the air, something huge is pushing through the air like a dragon."
Inquisitor Umbridge lost what shreds of control she had and shot a powerful stunner at Harry that he casually flicked at Milicent who casually flicked it back. They batted the stunner back and forth like a little red bludger until the poor harassed hex simply exploded in a small shower of angsty sparks while the Inquisitor gaped like a carp on land at being utterly ignored by everyone. Half the students were following Harry's arm, and it was Cedric Diggory the Hufflepuff seeker who saw them first.
"I see them! Pegasi or Hippogriffs pulling a carriage." Cedric shouted, and the students began to cheer. The winged horses and carriage grew larger, even though far away, and larger, and larger until Hagrid finally cried out.
"Blimy, those aren't pegasi, those are Abraxan horses. Each of them are the size of an elephant. That carriage has to be the size of one of the Hogwarts towers!" Hagrid roared in amazement.
Umbridge was shocked into silence as the scope of the carriage became known. Circling once overhead, the wind from its passage knocked many of the smaller students over, and the thunder of the Abraxan horses hooves striking the ground could be felt through the students very bones.
The carriage was decorated in the baroque style common to Louis XIV France, lots of gold cherubs and mythological creatures were worked into the carriage, every surface of which seemed to be carved artistically to the point its functionality could be missed. Those whose senses were reasonably sharp could feel the deeply layered wards built into the carriage, arguing that whatever else this carriage was, it could indeed serve as a fortress redoubt for the Beauxbaton students.
It was Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin seeker who spotted the top of the mast breaking the surface of Black Lake.
"Ship ho! rising from the lake!" Draco cried, and indeed, a ship was rising from the lake less like a muggle submarine and more like a broaching whale. The ship was to every eye, the very model of a hundred year war era Frigate, only it rose from the deep with neither sails nor oars driving it, the many masts bare as it rose from the deeps, and the unformed students serving as sailors apparently untouched by the icy lake water of the Scottish loch.
Rufus Scrimgeour palmed his wand and muttered to Dumbledore softly.
"I know you count him as a friend, but I was there when he was arrested. Headmaster Karkarov was a Death Eater. If those gun ports open, I am going to start blasting, and I suggest you do too." Scrimgeour said, wand at the low ready, eyes on the ships side for any sign she was cleared for action.
Dumbledore shook his head and frowned. "Igor Karkarov has my full confidence. He regretted taking the Dark Mark and co-operated with Aurors in hunting down and prosecuting his fellow Death Eaters."
Scrimgeour chuckled. "He was running pretty hard when we caught him. Both his regrets and his cooperation were born when he was in irons, stripped of wand and chances to run. You will forgive me if I trust him less than those he betrayed into Azkaban."
The students of Hogwarts were alternating between cheering and waving to the incoming students, a friendly if chaotic greeting the Durmstrang students greeted with a frown and glower from the sides of their ship where they stood unmoving in ranks like so many marines about to deploy. They were greeted with a resigned sniff of disapproval by the neat columns of Beauxbatons students in their royal blue robes who followed the absolutely massive amazonian figure of their Headmistress Maxime as they exited the carriage like a parade column.
The Hogwarts students were chased back into the Great Hall to await the official introduction of the two schools Headmaster, Headmistress, and candidate champions. This time the hall rang with happy babbling voices, excitement owing nothing to the Headmaster's machinations and everything to do with the exciting and very definitly foreign guests!
Dumbledore rose and once again cast Sonorous to carry his words above the babble.
"I would like you all to put your hands together to welcome the gentlewitches and wizards of our cousins across the channel, the glorious students of Beauxbatons Academy!"
Walking with the grace of dancers and the arrogance of princes, Madame Maxime lead the students of Beauxbatons, the royal blue of their robes and soft caps. Leading the students was a witch of almost matchless beauty and commanding presence. Every few steps the students would bow, and with the sweep of their wand, flowers, butterflies, fairies and other glamours would flow outward in a wave until the hanging candles of the great hall were rivaled for glory by the soaring and singing creations of the Beauxbatons witches and wizards.
While many of the students were taken by the inhuman charm radiating from the lead witch from Beauxbaton, those with an eye for magic noted the ease with which the leading witches and wizards of the Beauxbaton Academy had cast layered charms that covered the Great Hall ceiling and showed no signs of fading. A quiet murmuring began from the Ravenclaw table as the enchanters of the House of Eagles recognized the skill and power displayed so casually and artistically by the Beauxbatons Academy so frequently dismissed in the British Press as being frivoulous and flighty.
Dumbledore exchanged kisses with Madame Maxime who towered over the Headmaster like the Headmaster towered above Flitwick. Hagrid seemed lost in his adoration of the giant sized witch, missing his seat altogether in his first attempt to sit down.
Dumbledore turned his head back to the opening of the main hall and raised his voice again.
"Now put your hands together for the proud sons and daughters of the North, the witches and wizards of Durmstrang!"
Durmstrang had the reputation of being a dark wizard school, largely since Grindelwald had not only been from Durmstrang, but had used it as a base late in his war. The school itself prided itself on a Spartan military discipline, and its focus on all militant magics, including many that had been banned in Britain since before Grindelwald, let alone Voldemort's rise, leaving British wizards to view Durmstrang graduates as little better than magical thugs.
Brown uniforms resembling Napoleonic war Prussian Infantry uniforms with fur caps and half capes with high dragonhide boots, the wizards and witches of Durmstrang entered in two columns leaving a hollow center, with the stomp of jackboots, each right boot heel hitting the floor in time with their heavy wooden battle staves, each strike causing the floor to flare with a blast of flame, the runes on the staves flaring bright.
Headmaster Igor Karkarov, looking like a half starved half mad wolf wearing stolen human clothes stalked down the middle aisle while a lone boy with broad shoulders and a close cropped buzzcut stalked between the two columns of students, a black cloud rising around his feet to half cloak him in darkness, which was split by jagged lightning that lit his features into stark relief each time his battle stave hit the floor. Walking inside a black storm cloud that seemed to hide the floor itself, the boy's features were lit by the lightning, as if the boy himself was the oncoming storm.
Recognition flared around the room, beginning in whispered, and leading to a chant.
Krum, Krum, Krum, Krum KRUM!
Viktor Krum had come to Hogwarts.
When the Beauxbaton students settled at the Ravenclaw table and the Durmstrang students had settled at the Slytherin table, Minister Crouch and his minions descended on the Great Hall, a large chest floating between four Aurors to take its pride of place on the platform before the main table.
As the chest was placed on the dais, Albus Dumbledore sank to one knee and whispered to the stones of the Great Hall. Around the chest, two rings of runes, one Norse Futhark one Druidic Ogham, slowly counter rotating in layered warding of the treasure about to be unveiled.
Minister Crouch smiled from the podium, almost mechanically. He spoke with none of the animation of his previous visit, his words chopped out like he had to pay for each separately and begrudged every one. Those who listened assumed he was so busy being Minister of Magic that looking after the Triwizard Tournament was something that he begrudged having to spend time on, yet his eyes blazed like a fanatic, however he seemed to speak.
"Welcome, students of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang to the first Triwizard Tournament since 1792. For over four hundred years, the three schools would send their best and brightest to test themselves, and the teachings of their institutes, to build a greater respect and awareness of our separate traditions, and of course, settle the question of which among the schools produces the greatest witch or wizard of our generation.
The traditional prize of the tournament, then as now, is one thousand galleons, and eternal glory. Due to the dangerous and demanding nature of the challenges, no witch or wizard below the age of seventeen will be allowed to enter their name. Any witch or wizard who wishes to compete for the honour of their school, and the glory of their name can put their name into the goblet of fire.
Be warned, the goblet of fire is an ancient magical artifact, used prior to the 13th century to settle wars and inheritance disputes. Placing your name in the goblet constitutes a binding magical contract. Once you have entered your name, if you are chosen, you must compete, or you will lose your magic.
Without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, let me present THE GOBLET OF FIRE!"
The sides of the chest fell away, and a large cup, more of a cauldron stood. It was unremarkable, seemingly ordinary, made of rough bronze with decorations on it of Celtic knotwork that drew the eye and seemed to catch those who looked too long upon it.
Dumbledore gave his wand a wave, and the Goblet of Fire spouted blue flames like those that burned above the barrows of the dead on Samhain night, when the veil was thinnest and the Hollow Hills sometimes opened.
While the students and staff were absorbed in the glory of the Goblet, one student stepped from the Ravenclaw table.
Luna Lovegood's eyes were wide and terrified. Her magic flared about her, arcs of magic crackled and shot from her, her eyes blazing with light that shone forth bright enough to draw cries of shock from those who looked upon her, yet it was her voice that shook the room.
"Lia Fáil brought from Fálias
Which shouted under the kings of Ireland.
Sword in the hand of the nimble Lúgh
From Goirias, - a choice of vast riches.
From Fionnias far over the sea,
Was brought the deadly spear of Nuadha.
From Muirias, a huge mighty treasure,
Cauldron of the Daghdha of noble deeds.
You fool. You arrogant ignorant fool. You have brought the Cauldron of Noble Deeds inside the wards, you have brought the Cauldron of Dagda among your children, and bound their souls to it. The Tuatha Dé Danann, the Sidhe, the ancient elves who turned sideways from the world when they could not stand against the cold iron of our blades left this for a reason, as a punishment, as a trap.
AND YOU HAVE BOUND YOUR CHILDREN TO IT!"
Luna fell to her knees before the goblet and wept.
Seamus Finnegan shot from his seat and shouted before Crouch or Umbridge could stop him.
"Dagda? The Cauldron of sodding Dagda, and you brought it inside the wards? What kind of daft English idiot thought that up. It's not bad enough ye stole the bloody thing from the Irish, you didn't bloody listen about how dangerous it is." Seamus was shouting.
Minerva McGonagall shot to her feet and shouted at her student. "Mister Finnegan, that is enough."
For once, Seamus Finnegan was not cowed by his formidable Head of House.
"Enough? Enough? I'll tell you about enough. The Tuatha Dé Danann did not go gentle into that good night, they were driven from this land by muggle iron and wizard magic, but they did not go quietly. They went into the Hollow Hills, leaving the some of their weapons, their treasures behind, each cursed and blessed to drive us to murder each other to possess them.
We leave offerings for them, but always outside, never inside. We call them the Good Neighbors because we are terrified to name them because they just might hear us. We don't draw their eye, we don't speak their name, and never, bloody sodding never do we let them in the House."
Seamus came back to himself shaking. "I will be owling my parents. I am withdrawing from Hogwarts."
Unnoticed, at the Hufflepuff table, Harry Potter had his teeth bared, and his goblin silver knife in his hand. His green eyes blazed the colour of the killing curse, and the blue light of the goblet's fire caught upon the Soweilo rune of his scar, blazing like a challenge at his races ancient foe.
The Goblet of Fire was lit, and the Triwizard Tournament had begun. .
You fool. You arrogant ignorant fool. You have brought the Cauldron of Noble Deeds inside the wards, you have brought the Cauldron of Dagda among your children, and bound their souls to it. The Tuatha Dé Danann, the Sidhe, the ancient elves who turned sideways from the world when they could not stand against the cold iron of our blades left this for a reason, as a punishment, as a trap.
AND YOU HAVE BOUND YOUR CHILDREN TO IT!"
Luna fell to her knees before the goblet and wept.
Seamus Finnegan shot from his seat and shouted before Crouch or Umbridge could stop him.
"Dagda? The Cauldron of sodding Dagda, and you brought it inside the wards? What kind of daft English idiot thought that up. It's not bad enough ye stole the bloody thing from the Irish, you didn't bloody listen about how dangerous it is." Seamus was shouting.
Minerva McGonagall shot to her feet and shouted at her student. "Mister Finnegan, that is enough."
For once, Seamus Finnegan was not cowed by his formidable Head of House.
"Enough? Enough? I'll tell you about enough. The Tuatha Dé Danann did not go gentle into that good night, they were driven from this land by muggle iron and wizard magic, but they did not go quietly. They went into the Hollow Hills, leaving the some of their weapons, their treasures behind, each cursed and blessed to drive us to murder each other to possess them.
We leave offerings for them, but always outside, never inside. We call them the Good Neighbors because we are terrified to name them because they just might hear us. We don't draw their eye, we don't speak their name, and never, bloody sodding never do we let them in the House."
Seamus came back to himself shaking. "I will be owling my parents. I am withdrawing from Hogwarts."
Unnoticed, at the Hufflepuff table, Harry Potter had his teeth bared, and his goblin silver knife in his hand. His green eyes blazed the colour of the killing curse, and the blue light of the goblet's fire caught upon the Soweilo rune of his scar, blazing like a challenge at his races ancient foe.
The Goblet of Fire was lit, and the Triwizard Tournament had begun.