I do not own Harry Potter nor World of Darkness
Ministry of Magic, London, 25th August 1994 (Thursday)
Ludo Bagman was pacing around his office. An unmitigated disaster. That's what the Quidditch World cup finals had turned out to be. Everything had been running perfectly until those madmen, those… What was the term sir Zettler had used? Terrorists. Those terrorists had ruined everything.
He had to fix this. His reputation was in shambles and if he wanted to keep his position, he needed to fix this.
Another event. Something even more grandiose than the Quidditch World cup, something unseen before.
Something that would erase the PR nightmare that the World cup had been.
He had spent the last week pouring over the possibilities and had finally settled for something. Minister Fudge had given his approval, and apparently Sir Zettler had even offered to pitch in as a sponsor, which, given the man's track record, would inevitably convince others to sponsor the event as well.
He just needed confirmation from Dumbledore.
He glanced back at the window, spotting the familiar shape of his owl. He opened the window and grabbed the animal before it even had a chance to land, snatching the letter it was carrying and unrolling it in anticipation.
Dear Mr. Bagman,
I have received your suggestion and I can't help but
saying that I'm very intrigued by the idea. I was lead to
believe the Triwizard tournament had been banned for a
reason, but if minister Fudge opted to remove the ministerial
ban for the competition, I'm sure he has also come up with
additional security systems to avoid another disaster.
I, for one, would suggest the removal of any task
regarding a Cockatrice for… superstitious reasons if
nothing else.
If we decide to proceed with this, and that is a rather
big 'if', mind you, we will need to discuss the details
in person. Luckily for you, I have taken the liberty to
invite Olympe Maxime and Igor Karkaroff to the castle
on the 31st of August for this very reason.
You are more than welcome to join us for dinner
and discuss the subject with the three of us.
Albus Dumbledore
Bagman smiled. Leave it to Dumbledore to make the impossible possible. It would have taken him months to get all three headmasters to agree to meet him, but the old man had organized everything for next week. That was excellent. His Triwizard Tournament would be such a massive success that everyone will soon forget about the fiasco that was the Quidditch World cup finals. He was sure of it.
Great Hall, Hogwarts, 31st August 1994 (Wednesday)
"So, we all agree on the tasks?"
"I'm not convinced about the third one, Albus… yes, a maze is a pretty good challenge, but I don't think it's going to be particularly… exciting for the spectators." said Bagman.
"Can't monsieur Zettler place more of those cameras? You said he vill be able to put zem in the lake for da second task." asked a massive woman with a thick french accent.
"I… suppose he could. It just doesn't feel that great for the spectators that will be there in person."
"I'm sure by the time the third task comes around you'll be able to find a solution, Bagman." assured Dumbledore, approaching the large wooden goblet the minister official had placed on the table.
"Aren't we supposed to light this during the announcement? Why is it here?" asked a thin man with a goatee.
"That was the original plan, yes - started Bagman - but I figured it would be best to relight it properly, like they did it in ancient times. Follow the old original ceremony instead of the newer one we used for the last tournaments. Just in case the Goblet needs a bit of… extra power."
"It haz been dormant for deux hundred years." conceded the woman.
"Do you even know how to do it?" asked Igor, skeptically stroking his beard.
"Of course, Headmaster Karkaroff! I spent a long time researching this tournament!"
"No need for hostility, Igor. I am sure Ludo has done his research and will be glad to explain the ritual we're about to perform."
After a brief explanation, the four stood around the goblet, chanting and waving their wands around. A single blue spark appeared on top of the goblet, causing it to shine. Before they could react, a wave of magic swept over the castle, pushing the four off their feet and away from the goblet, causing them to stumble on the ground through sheer magical might of the artifact.
Ludo watched the goblet, now spouting jets of rainbow fire, before the flames calmed down into a calm, yet in no way less impressive, color-shifting flame idly sitting within the chalice.
He smiled as he got up from the floor. That burst of magic was unexpected, but he had been warned that re-lighting such an ancient artifact after so long might have had some unexpected results.
"Gentlemen, Madam Maxime… It looks like we were successful."
University of the Highlands and Islands, Inverness, 31st August 1994 (Wednesday)
Callum looked up from his thesis at the geiger counter on his desk as it started to beep like crazy. With a curious look, he put down the pen and picked up the tool. His eyes bulged from his socket and he rushed to his phone, swiftly dialing the number.
On the other side of the campus, Professor Macintosh picked up his phone.
"Callum? Did ya feel it as well?"
"Aye, professor. Huge Prime surge, me counter's gone ballistic. What was that?"
"No clue, lad. I'm heading to me office to pick up a few instruments so we can find its source."
"Ya think… is it the techy?"
"Nay, it's way too overt for them. Get yer tools to my office, lad. We'll need to check the pulse's readings before it dissipates."
"Aye, professor. Be right there."
Putting down his phone, Callum picked up his tools, carefully placing them in a backpack that seemed just a tad too small for all the items Callum was placing within, before he dashed out of the room.
Meanwhile, professor Machintosh frowned, thinking about the huge surge in Prime that his modified geiger counter had picked up moments before. He sincerely hoped that he was right and these readings had nothing to do with the Technocracy.
Portree, Isle of Skye, 31st August 1994 (Wednesday)
Uninnseann put down her fiddle, feeling a disturbance in the air. She looked at her students, eager apprentices for the Bardic College, and noticed how some of them felt it too. All of them Mages with at least some degree of training in the Prime sphere.
"Prof, why are we stoppin'?" asked one of the students, confused at the sudden stop.
"Sorry, I got distracted for a second. Do ya mind if I take a break for a second? Need to make a quick call and I'll be back."
Uninnseann stepped outside of the room, and closed the door, before rushing to her room. She picked up a discman, put on a pair of headphones before closing the door behind her and turning up the music to its maximum volume. As the melodic tunes of Joan Baez blasted through her ears, she fished a couple of magic mushrooms from her secret stash behind her drawer and swiftly tossed them in her mouth.
She sat cross-legged on the floor, the shapes of reality opening up into a manifold mandala of infinity realities and possibilities. In her dream-like state, she spotted the expanding aftershock of Prime she felt moments before, a colossal wave rippling through realities and Umbral realms alike. She moved her position, visualizing herself floating above Scotland, the aftershock still expanding but quickly losing momentum. She had never been good at math, but finding the center of a slowly expanding circle couldn't be that hard. She opened her eyes, back into the real world, and took off her headphones, scrambling over her desk for a map of Scotland, smiling as she pinpointed the source.
She wondered if the rest of the College would be up for a small tour…
Dryburgh Abbey, Scotland, 31st August 1994 (Wednesday)
Sister Isobel opened her eyes, interrupting her evening prayer. She looked at her side towards sister Penelope and sister Marguerite. The look on the other nuns told her that they too felt the same thing as her.
Without a word, the three got up and walked out of the room. Sister Isobel got three rosaries, while sister Penelope, the one who had the most experience with the Prime Sphere amongst their congregation, picked three old songbooks, flipping the pages looking for a very specific chant, while sister Marguerite lit up a candle under the crucifix.
With their preparations complete, the three nuns held the rosary in their hands and fell on their knees, their voices rising in a chorus of gregorian chants as their magic reached for the heavens, following the wave of Prime that had just washed over them.
Royal Observatory, Edinburgh, 31st August 1994 (Wednesday)
Archibald Boyd halted his quill halfway through his stroke.
"Francois!"
A younger mage walked toward the older man.
"Yes, master?"
"Did you feel it?"
"Feel what, master'"
Boyd frowned.
"The Prime pulse. How did you not feel it, Fracois?"
The younger man lowered his head in a deep bow.
"I'm sorry, master. I'll double my training."
"You better! It's shameful for an apprentice of mine not to notice something of this caliber." he frowned, looking sternly at his apologetic student.
"Get your bag ready."
"Sorry?"
"Do you need your ears cleaned, boy!? I said get your bag ready! I'm sending you to investigate!"
Cowcaddens, Glasgow, 31st August 1994 (Wednesday)
Alarms started blazing in the small control room, attracting the attention of the three scientists. Lead researcher Agnus McMortem took one quick glance at the instrument before picking up his phone. After a few seconds of ringing, someone on the other side picked it up.
"Yes?"
"Sir, this is lead researcher Agnus McMortem, N.W.O. We spotted a large prime emission near Scotland."
There was a pause.
"Reality Deviants?"
"Almost certainly."
Another pause, this time longer.
"Good to know. I'll send a Symposium Amalgam to investigate. Can you pinpoint the location for them?"
Agnus started to type on his terminal.
"Northumberland, not too far from the town of Alnwick. It's expanding rapidly, but the energy is dissipating just as fast. It seems to be some kind of message."
"Nature of the source?"
"It's… unclear. Virtual Adepts maybe? It might be a test for some kind of Prime-based radio signal, or just the unwanted aftermath of an experiment, but that's personal speculation. I'm monitoring for any signs of a secondary emission."
"Excellent. Keep up the good job, Mr. McMortem."
Alnwick castle, Northumberland, 1st September 1994 (Thursday)
Callum and Professor Machintosh had tracked down the source of the mysterious Prime pulse to the outskirt of the city and had promptly jumped on the professor's car, armed with a 'highly experimental nuclear jet engine' to reach the location in only an hour thanks to a series of magically-empowered accelerations, one of the many advantages of being apprenticed by a master of Correspondence.
Armed with a small arsenal of Prime-sensitive instruments hidden in pockets that shouldn't have been able to fit the instruments, the duo had taken up a spot with one of the many castle tours and scanned the building from top to bottom. They detected a slightly higher than normal magical background radiation, even for a Node, but nothing to suggest the presence of active Mages in the area.
"Ya got something, lad?"
"Nay, professor. Some background radiation, but that's about it."
Machintosh nodded sagely. Perhaps it was better this way.
"Musta missed 'em. Shame."
"No worries, professor. At least we know t'wasn't the techy."
"Ya Gowk, stop say'n that!"
Callum looked sheepish. "Sorry, professor. Ya got an idea what ta do?"
"Yay, we got back to Inverness and finish yer thesis, lad. Comin here was a gigantic waste o' time."
Great Hall, Hogwarts, 1st September 1994 (Thursday)
The trip back to Hogwarts was relatively calm, and apart from Peeves targeting Ron with water balloons, nothing important happened until they reached the Great Hall. Much to the shock and confusion of everyone, a fifth table occupied the hall, but unlike the usual four, this one was covered in black cloth and bore no insignia whatsoever.
As the students took their place at their assigned tables, whispers and speculations started to spread among them. Some whispered about the creation of a fifth house, with some claiming it to be the 'house Merlin' for the supremely gifted, others claiming it was to offer pre-schooling for kids that had yet to reach the age of eleven. Draco Malfoy suggested it was a house for the Mudblood, but no one was really expecting anything else from the blonde, so Harry promptly ignored him. He himself wasn't really sure what to make of the new table… Perhaps foreign visitors? It seems the most likely theory.
After a few minutes of whispered discussions and speculations, the doors of the Great Hall opened and silence fell. Professor McGonagall led a long line of first years around the black table, which attracted the first year's attention just as much as everyone else's. Professor McGonagall placed a three-legged stool on the ground before the first years and, on top of it, the Sorting Hat.
The sorting proceeded as normal and once the last student was sat down at the table, Dumbledore stood up. He was smiling around at the students, his arms opened wide in welcome.
"Welcome, welcome dear students, to another year at Hogwarts. Before we can begin the feast, I have a few announcements to make. First, I am happy to announce that during the summer our beloved librarian Irma Pince has been recognized by the ministry as a qualified teacher for the newly established Fae Studies electives. Students that have participated in the Fae Studies club in the past years are welcomed back into her class where they will get official recognition for their effort in the past years. New students are always welcome to this class, which I am very proud to say is the only one of its kind in all of Europe. I wish Professor Pince the best of luck and hope she'll make this class into a prime example of why Hogwarts is the best."
The students applauded the headmaster and the newly appointed professor.
"Are you taking it?" Whispered Sally to Harry.
"Of course I am! What about you?"
Sally shook her head.
"What? Why not!?" whispered an incredulous Theo.
"I barely passed Transfiguration! I'm never going to make it to Alchemy if I don't focus on that!"
"But you're not even going to have it recognized? We studied it for two years!" objected Daphne.
"I'll talk with Professor Pince to have it recognized. Maybe I can have it marked as an A for past work?"
The voices among the students got silenced by Dumbledore clearing his throat.
"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it. As always, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup this year will be significantly altered, reducing the number of games by half."
A few shouts and murmurs of disbelief washed over the students, while Dumbledore waited for them to calm down before continuing.
"This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy… but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts…"
The doors of the Great Hall banged open. A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table, a dull clunk echoing on every other step. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. One eye was small and beady, while the other was round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue, moving ceaselessly without blinking.
The stranger reached Dumbledore and the two shook hands, muttering. Dumbledore nodded and gestured to the empty seat on his right-hand side.
"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? - said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. - Professor Alastor Moody."
"Moody?" Harry muttered to Theo.
"Mad-Eye Moody. Ex Auror. He was a big shot, sort of a war hero against You-Know-Who. Dad says he's lost his marbles sometimes during the fight, but that only made him more paranoid than before."
"As I was saying… - said Dumbledore, smiling at the sea of students before him. - we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for almost two centuries. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."
"You're JOKING!" said Fred and George Weasley loudly.
Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively. "I am not joking, Mr. Weasley. Though now that you
mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar…"
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.
"But maybe this is not the time. - said Dumbledore. - where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament… well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely. The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities… until, that is, an unfortunate incident with a death toll so high that the tournament was discontinued. Our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe to restart this tradition. We have worked to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger. The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."
At every House table, Harry could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore, or else whispering fervently to their neighbors. He had half an idea that, willingly or not, he'd end up putting his name down for the selection. There was no way in hell Sir Zettler wouldn't force him to participate, wether for glory or the sadistic pleasure of seeing him fumble his way through through challenges far above what he was capable to handle.
"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts, the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age, that is to say seventeen years or older, will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This - Dumbledore raised his voice to cover the outrage - is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts' champion."
His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred's and George's mutinous faces. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen. The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Eat! Drink! And once you're done…Bedtime!"
Notes
New factions join the story! All of them Mages! With the exception of Callum and Professor Machintosh, who come from my own campaign (hi Taci! Your PC is in my story!) and are basically an easter egg, the others are genuine factions within WoD canon.
If you can identify waht tradition each belng to, you get a cookie
Their presence will alter the trajectory of the story and expose Harry and friends to new allies... or new enemies.
Tbh, the triwizard tournament was the entire reason I started writing this crossover, so... hope you enjoyed the 40 chapters of backstory needed to justify this and I hope you'll enjoy the fourth year just as much if not more