The (re)sorting ceremony!
DISCLAIMER: We are aware that some characters (e.g. Percy Weasley) shouldn't be there because they should have already graduated. We don't care. They are a year younger because we said so :)
Enjoy
A_A
The Great Hall was mostly empty. Only the teachers sat behind the table chatting with one another or simply waiting, perfectly aware that the train would arrive at the Hogsmeade station in minutes. There was nothing left to do besides waiting.
Minerva McGonagall was quite anxious as she entered the Great Hall through the doors on the side. Augusta's veiled words suggested that something would happen during the sorting ceremony. Once or twice, she looked towards the four founders. They stood before the presidial table chatting with Dumbledore about nothing important. Hogwarts windows, of all things. There was a place for them to sit, Albus took care of that, but they remained standing for some reason.
Minerva put the stool down in the usual place and put the Sorting Hat on top. She corrected it so it would be perfectly even and...
"Excuse me, madam," Godric Gryffindor said, coming closer, "I'm afraid you have the wrong hat."
"Excuse me?" Minerva asked with indignation. "I place this Hat on this stool year after year for over two decades. I believe I would recognise if it were different."
"You've been placing the wrong hat here for over two decades, madame. The Sorting Hat was removed in 1967 and replaced with this hat," Godric indicated the one just placed on the stool and then removed the hat from his head. "This one is the true Sorting Hat. It fits as perfectly as it did a millennium ago, I must say."
Minerva looked at the almost identical hats with confusion, her eyes moved quickly between the founders, Dumbledore and other teachers. And while the latter looked as surprised as she did, Dumbledore did not. With a grave expression, he nodded discretely to answer her questioning look, but whether to confirm everything Gryffindor said or to only suggest that Minerva should agree - she wasn't entirely certain.
"You must know best. After all, it belonged to you," Minerva said, although full of doubts and in need of answers. She wanted answers from Albus, but it wasn't the time or place for this conversation. She exchanged the hats. "I will better go and take care of the first years."
"Just one minute," this time spoke Rowena Ravenclaw. "You must understand that the fake hat didn't work properly. We don't know what rules of sorting it obeyed. I would like to test it later if you don't mind. The proper functioning of Hogwarts depends on the proper sorting. The houses were introduced to provide the best possible environment for the children. They were meant to stimulate their development as well as provide them with like-minded housemates and caregivers to create the closeness of home and family. After meeting some of the students during the last weeks, we have assessed that the majority of children are missorted. As a result, they are encouraged to develop traits that are not theirs, do not integrate with housemates, and enter unhealthy rivalry with the members of other houses. That is why we decided to repeat the procedure for every student in Hogwarts. Of course, if our observations are wrong, children will just get resorted into their previous houses."
Her words rang in the silent Hall for a moment longer. Teachers exchanged glances, and Minerva locked her eyes with Albus, seeking advice. She had no idea what to do. Of course, it sounded reasonable, but sorting every child during one evening? Albus's thoughts apparently followed the same path.
"Are you certain it's wise to sort them all tonight?" He asked. "That's over three hundred hungry students."
"We wouldn't keep them hungry, of course," Helga smiled kindly. "They will enter, sit down wherever they please, eat their dinner, and we will sort them before the desert."
"I'm sure children are tired after the whole day on the train," Albus noted caringly.
"I have no idea why you force them to spend the day on the train," Godric chuckled, "Especially Scottish children. Some live in Hogsmeade, for Gods' sake!"
His laughter came through the Great Hall like merry thunder, and some of the teachers looked not only amused but entirely convinced of the founders' idea. It wasn't the first time someone voiced a doubt considering the train ride, and it functioned as a joke in some circles. Even if the majority thought about it as a part of the 'Hogwarts experience' and looked sentimentally to their own time spent on the train.
Before anybody voiced any concerns, the first students entered the Great Hall. Soon, the steady river was spreading to four streams pooling around the appropriate (or not, depending on perspective) house tables. Minerva noticed Godric Gryffindor beaming while looking at the students, and she had to smile. He clearly was wholeheartedly invested in Hogwarts.
Only the silhouette of Hagrid in the corridor reminded her of the first years, and she rushed to inform him and the children about what they should do. Soon enough, she ushered the children to take seats where they were available. When all were seated, Dumbledore stood up, but before he managed to say a word, Gryffindor spoke up.
"The last time I've been here, there were much fewer of us. No more than one hundred, and that includes all the adults! You can't even imagine how wonderful it is to see so many of you after so many years." He walked closer to the tables with a huge grin on his face. "I believe you know who we are. If you don't read the papers, your parents must have told you. If they didn't, surely your friends did. We had the pleasure of meeting some of you personally. But I wouldn't like to be rude or arrogant. My name is Godric Gryffindor, and behind me stand my dearest friends Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, and Salazar Slytherin. To make it easier for you, we dressed in the house colours," he joked, evoking laughter among students. "We will make everything a little different tonight. We would like to join you at your tables, as we always eat with our students, and we hope you won't mind our company. There will also be no sorting before the feast. You must be starving. Let's eat!"
The last announcement was welcomed with a deafening applause and cheer. Minerva noted that Ronald Weasley even stood up to express his joy. When the food appeared, the founders actually joined the students, each simply sitting on the bench, starting conversations. Suddenly, Minerva felt quite inadequate behind the presidial table.
"That is an interesting turn of events," Pomona said quietly, leaning towards Minerva.
"Certainly not what I have expected," she nodded. "Resorting of every student? That seems excessive."
"I believe it might be the right move," Aurora Sinistra joined the conversation. "You must have noticed how unfit some children are to their houses. Miss Granger, for example. It's beyond my understanding why this girl isn't a Ravenclaw."
"Precisely my thought!" piped in Filius. "Precisely, I always wondered. And I would love to have her... Although I'm not sure if we are the heads of houses anymore..."
The conversation halted for a moment, and Minerva wondered not only if she was the head of Gryffindor but also if Albus would still be headmaster in this situation. Clearly, the founders had every right to manage the school, so where did this leave the headmaster? Or his deputy, for that matter? Privately, she would enjoy not having so many responsibilities... She was quite certain that she wasn't the only one thinking the same. It could be quite difficult to leave the students to someone else. Especially for Severus. She knew how attached he was to his Slytherins, even if he would never admit it aloud.
The atmosphere in the Great Hall was divided. Teachers were uncertain no matter their attitude, while students and founders seemed to be in the best spirits. Minerva observed them. She noticed that Godric Gryffindor changed his seat a couple of times, and wherever he sat, the laughter was the loudest. Helga Hufflepuff sat among the first years, and students gathered around her. Rowena Ravenclaw found herself a place next to Luna Lovegood (of all Ravenclaws!) and listened to how the girl spoke animatedly. Finally, Slytherin was exactly in the middle of the table. He seemed to ask questions to the students surrounding him. He spoke with each for approximately the same amount of time and listened to them attentively. It all seemed... right. Appropriate. And now Minerva felt quite ashamed of seating where she did. She never spent so much time with her students. But well, there was no time with all the lessons to prepare and conduct, homework to check, and on top of that, patrols, deputy headmistress duties, detentions, and mountains of problems to deal with. And if she were to be honest with herself, it would be exhausting to sit with Gryffindors during every meal. They were, after all, the loudest of all students. Which Gryffindor seemed not to mind... He was actually louder than the loudest of them all. Even the Weasley twins.
Finally, the dinner was eaten, the plates cleaned, and the dessert didn't appear. Instead, Helga Hufflepuff stood up. She was a surprise for Minerva. Not at all like she imagined Helga Hufflepuff to be. Instead, she had a lean and strong figure, very decisive body language, and wore a pretty, feminine dress with golden ribbons floating around her arms when she spoke, and she wore two long braids resting on her chest. All that was topped with a catchy smile. Not at all the motherly (or even grandmotherly) type as she was presented to be. Instead, a young, energetic woman with unwavering confidence, seemingly unending warmth, and a soft spot for ribbons. This last aspect was not to Minerva's liking.
"I hope you have all eaten to your heart's content," Hufflepuff said, and just like her posture, her voice was far from being motherly. Warm, yes, but much sharper than Minerva imagined. "Now, we have time for the sorting. But it won't be the sorting you are used to. The first years won't stand in the line and put the hat on. You all will." She paused to allow surprise, anger, and cheer to pass. Only then did she continue her statement. "I am sure that for many various reasons, most of you are happy with your sorting. You can be certain that if you are in the best house for yourself, you will return to your tables after putting the Sorting Hat on. You may ask: why bother? What for? Can't we just enjoy the dessert and go to sleep? No, you cannot. Because none of you had the Sorting Hat on before. None of you were properly sorted. None of you can be sure you are getting the best for yourself. Instead, all of you were fooled." She again made a short break, but this time, only a few whispers were heard in a shocked silence. "The Sorting Hat is an extraordinary magical artefact. It knows precisely who we, the founders, are. It was meant to choose those to guide you in our absence and to sort you to the most appropriate mentor, able to show you the way to your own excellence. Instead, however, a fake hat was used." A murmur of voices and gasps rang through the hall, and Minerva was astounded as well. The Sorting Hat should pick the heads of houses?! When the noise rang out, Helga spoke again, "Therefore, tonight, you will find out which house is yours."
"Before we begin, you must know what it means to belong to one of the houses. There is no better or worse house. There never was. Each is suited to different types of people. Hufflepuff, my dears, is the house of those who are, most of all, loyal. Not foolishly loyal, trotting obediently and mindlessly behind a leader, but faithful to those they choose. If they believe it necessary, they are ready to fight for those people, but are wise enough to talk the problem through, to negotiate, if the confrontation can be avoided. Hufflepuff is the house for those who are honest—those who will stand for what is right and for justice. To do so, a true Hufflepuff must be ready for hard work, renunciation, and sacrifice. If you are sorted into Hufflepuff, you have the potential to become such a person. A very strong, capable person."
Minerva was surprised, to say the least. She hasn't seen that in Hufflepuff. She never thought this way about them. They were, after all, mostly scared and soft children who kept quiet and on the side. She rather thought about Gryffindors in these terms! And looking around, she saw that the majority of people around were equally baffled.
"Let me tell you a little about what Ravenclaw stands for," Rowena Ravenclaw stood up. Her voice was colder, yet gentler, quieter than Hufflepuff, just like she was. Her movements were fluent like water, her dress simple, and the waves of hair rested on her back so long they reached way below the belt. "I heard a lot of misconceptions about my house. I heard you believe every Ravenclaw is buried in books. It is, in fact, one type of my students. But not the only one. What makes a Ravenclaw is a fascination and passion for knowledge. The knowledge may be gained in a plethora of ways. From books, yes, but before it made it there, it was gained through experimentation, observation, and crossing boundaries. It was gained thanks to the open and flexible mind, creativity, and unconventionality. That is what I seek in my students, no matter if they will devote themselves to demanding scientific studies in areas such as potions or transfiguration or to the creation of beauty and entertainment. They may even dedicate themselves to the creation of a perfect potty." She smiled slightly when the majority of the students chuckled, while others seemed offended. "What I want to help you with is exploring the truth and endless possibilities."
Then she sat down again, gracefully folding her hands on her lap. Her speech might not have evoked vivid reactions from the majority of students, but Minerva saw that Flilius and many students at all tables seemed eager and sat straighter.
"Now me," Godric announced, standing up, "before Salazar gives you his speech, and none of you will listen because you will be too shocked to gather your jaws off the floor. To start, let's set something straight. Gryffindor is not a house of light wizards. I am the dark wizard," this declaration made even Minerva stop breathing for a moment when she covered her mouth with her palm. Students erupted in agitated chatter. Some gave him applause (mostly those at the Slytherin table, mind you). Gryffindor didn't wait for it to end. He just spoke louder. "Your shock proves my point. But my Gryffindors fought in the first lines. They led people to battles, thought for themselves, and crawled everywhere they were told not to. They needed every spell in their reach. However, they respected others. There may be no bullying in my house. Gryffindors always were a good company. We had a lot of fun, no matter what happened the day before. Because it's a new day, and today matters. If you lost something yesterday, you may gain something else today. Gryffindors are leaders. Not only in battle, but everywhere. That doesn't require excessive intellect. We have to be wise enough to make good and quick decisions. To manage, lead, and inspire. It's just good to have behind you a Slytherin to make you a good plan, a Ravenclaw to tell you how to do it and the loyalty of a Hufflepuff who will help you achieve it. Because only then you can have a really good party!"
As shocking as his first statement was, the rest drew a very precise picture of a Gryffindor, and Minerva had to admit that not many of her students fit the description. She also wondered what Slytherin could say that would be more shocking than this? Would he announce he was a muggleborn?
"As Godric wisely said, let's set some things straight. Through centuries, the myth grew that I, Salazar Slytherin, hate wizards born in muggle families," with hands behind his back, he sauntered between the tables, not minding any reactions. He kept talking evenly, not loudly, so students hushed each other to hear. "You were led to believe a lie that even my own descendants judged to be true. Let me tell you the truth and remember this correctly because I will not stand for this lie any longer. There was a time when I had doubts about admitting muggle-born wizards to Hogwarts. That is because in the tenth century, being a wizard was hazardous, and some of the muggle-born students, often unknowingly, brought dangerous people to Hogwarts. People that attacked and killed our students for being wizards. I expected the situation to become worse with time, and it became worse. However, instead of refusing to accept muggle-born students, we decided to increase the security of Hogwarts."
"Furthermore, muggle-born wizards and witches are exactly the same magical creatures as those born in wizarding families. There is no difference in the nature of our magic. We are all gifted to wield it. Sometimes, in the magical family, a person is born who cannot wield magic. A squib. Other times, the person able to wield magic is born into a muggle family. A muggle-born. And very often, a muggle-born is a descendant of a squib. This is called a squib line. One of Rowena's descendants was a squib, and many generations later, Miss Hermione Granger was born. The same happened in the case of Helga and Mr Harry Potter. His mother was a muggle-born witch from a squib line, the heir to the Hufflepuff line, as Harry is now. Neither Harry and Hermione nor any other muggle-born or half-blood is, by definition, weaker in terms of magic. Just the opposite, they are often more powerful than average."
"However," he said strongly, "They grew up in a different reality. And need guidance to adapt to the wizarding world properly. They need the help and support of pureblood wizards to integrate properly. It is the responsibility of pureblood wizards to make them feel welcome in our world, to get to know our culture and to help create it. And that shall be made with respect and forbearance."
"Now, when we have it straight, you must realise that Slytherin is not the house to gather blood purists and cruel, closed-minded individuals. It's the house of ambitious, independent, clever individuals who are too careful to jump to conclusions or into action because there's always a better way than running ahead on hurray. It's smarter to put your efforts into something that will bear fruits. And there's nothing wrong with healthy self-preservation. You may be certain that my plans saved Godric's life at least as often as his sword and wand kept my head intact."
"And now, before you start to die of boredom and snore," he said, stopping his pace next to the Sorting Hat, perfectly aware that students listen carefully to every said word, "Let's start with the sorting. Madam McGonagall, I believe you led the ceremony for over two decades. Therefore, if you'd like to do the honours, I will be happy to pass them on to your capable hands."
Minerva shook the shock out of herself and stood up instantly, feeling like a schoolgirl called to answer.
"Yes," she declared, regaining her usual composure and berating herself for losing it for so long, "I would most certainly like to keep the tradition."
In the accompaniment of clicking heels, Minerva McGonagall walked around the presidial table, took the list out of Salazar's hands, and - as it happened every year - she began the sorting.
"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said, "Abbott, Hannah!"
A murmur ran through the Hall as the fourth-year Hufflepuff stood up from her table and walked towards the stool. She was the first one. She got the full attention. She was the most uncertain. But she walked between the tables, more confident with every step, and finally put on the hat. It was only a matter of seconds when the hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!".
Hannah's robes changed colours, and Minerva looked at the girl with astonishment for a good moment. She wouldn't expect that! In the meantime, Hannah walked towards her new table, shook Godric Gryffindor's extended hand, and sat down. Minerva slowly emerged back up and read the next name. Most of the students changed houses, and Minerva increased the pace, afraid not to be done by midnight. She had her first shock when Katie Bell was sorted to Ravenclaw.
Some people stayed in their original houses. Susan Bones was still in Hufflepuff, Terry Boot remained in Ravenclaw, and Lavender Brown in Gryffindor.
The first Slytherin to land in Gryffindor was Millicent Bulstrode, and to the general surprise, Godric welcomed her with a loud "I knew it! I heard a bit about you!".
Minerva observed with curiosity how Vincent Crabbe sat down at the Hufflepuff table. Then, the Creevey brothers were split when the older one remained in Gryffindor while the younger got sorted into Hufflepuff. Minerva fretted for the poor child in the company of such a person as Crabbe.
But she got even more afraid of the mess that would arise when two Quidditch captains left their houses and joined Gryffindor—first Roger Davies and, a moment later, Cedric Diggory. When Seamus Finnigan was sorted again to Gryffindor, and Minerva started with G's, she looked towards Miss Granger, wondering whether she'd stay in her old house or whether they were right all along. But before that happened, Gregory Goyle sat next to Vincent Crabbe.
When her turn came, Hermione Granger almost ran towards the Sorting Hat and eagerly put it on.
"RAVENCLAW!" the hat shouted. Hermione beamed, and Rowena Ravenclaw stood up, visibly proud and happy of the sorting. They still talked when three Greengrass girls were sorted to Ravenclaw one after the other. The oldest one, Daphne, took a longer walk to sit beside Miss Granger. It was clear that Ravenclaws would be a much better company for Miss Granger than Miss Brown or Miss Patil. As nice girls as they were, there wasn't much of a thought in their pretty heads.
Minerva gladly welcomed the fact that Angelina Johnson and Lee Jordan stayed Gryffindors. She had this feeling.
"Longbottom, Neville," she read and searched for the boy in the crowd. He was somehow reluctant to stand up, visibly anxious. Minerva felt sorry for him, perfectly aware that Neville was often told he shouldn't be in Gryffindor. And Augusta put so much pressure on the boy, clearly wanting him to be the perfect Gryffindor. And now, being the heir of Gryffindor, who sat there and waited for Hat's decision... She really hoped for the boy. When Neville approached and their eyes met, Minerva smiled at him with encouragement. Tense, the boy closed his eyes and put the hat on his head. He didn't even sit down properly when the Hat shouted loudly, "GRYFFINDOR". Surprised, Neville Longbottom stood for a moment with a Hat on before Minerva took it off and urged him back to his table. Accompanied by some laughter but visibly relieved, Neville sat down next to Seamus Finnigan.
After what Ravenclaw said, it came as no surprise when Luna Lovegood rejoined Ravenclaw. Later, when Draco Malfoy sat on the stool, Minerva expected a few seconds and the loud "SLYTHERIN!" but the Hat was silent. Draco Malfoy sat still, his fingers clenching the edge of the stool, the frown on his face. Minerva knew it perfectly well. He was arguing with the Hat and quite fiercely. They waited and waited, and she noticed that Mr Malfoy's knuckles stopped being white, and a smirk appeared on his face. Some understanding was forming between the Hat and the boy, and finally, "RAVENCLAW!" the Hat announced. Still expecting sorting to Slytherin and astonished by the different outcome, Minerva waited a moment too long before reading another name.
When Theodore Nott went from Slytherin to Ravenclaw, Pansy Parkinson was proud to remain a Slytherin, and the Patil twins were split again (the one from Gryffindor went to Hufflepuff, and the Ravenclaw to Slytherin) came another moment that made Minerva wander. She still remembered Dumbledore's words that Harry Potter would 'embody the traits of a perfect Gryffindor,' and he was eager to say, 'I told you so, Minerva, I told you so,' after the boy was sorted. But with what Minerva just heard... She looked shortly at Albus to recognise the hidden tension.
Harry Potter crossed the distance between the Gryffindor table and the stool as fast as he possibly could, although not as enthusiastically as Miss Granger did. He seemed determined to have it behind him, as if he had to participate in the unpleasant obligation. He gave Minerva a strained smile, put the hat on, and didn't sit down. Standing for a longer moment, he finally nodded. The Hat announced the sorting, and he left to sit next to Helga at the Hufflepuff table. What surprised Minerva was that for a longer moment, he and Mr Malfoy looked at each other with similar expressions of gloomy acceptance. On the other hand, Mr Potter seemed to brighten a little when Dean Thomas sat beside him.
Finally, almost closing the list were the Weasleys.
"Here it comes!" laughed Fred Weasley before approaching.
"RAVENCLAW!" The Hat announced, and Minerva blinked a couple of times. Ravenclaw? How this boy could be sorted into Ravenclaw? He was nothing but laughs and giggles! The Weasley twins in Ravenclaw?!
"Will you miss me?" George asked his fellow Gryffindors, going away from the table backwards in the accompaniment of laughter and cheer. No doubt, he was as certain as Minerva that he would follow his brother. But the Sorting Hat had a different opinion on the matter.
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Initially surprised, George Weasley quickly smiled again and exclaimed, "Harrykins!" before he rushed towards the Hufflepuff table, only waving at his twin brother. Now Mr Potter's smile was much brighter than previously, and he eagerly made a place for George.
Little Ginny Weasley looked uncertain after two of her brothers were sorted out of Gryffindor, and quite rightly, as she was immediately put in Slytherin. She looked a little scared and cautious approaching the table. Contrary to her, Percy Weasley came to the stool with dignity, sat straight as an arrow, and accepted his sorting without a blink. Minerva wasn't surprised. The ambition of this boy was almost proverbial between the teachers. He sat next to his sister, and now all of the Weasleys looked at Ronald, the last Weasley to be resorted.
Pale as a sheet, on shaky legs, he approached the Sorting Hat as if he was about to be executed. His hands seemed too heavy to lift the hat, his eyes shot to the left and right, and he looked at Minerva hopefully.
"In this century, Mr Weasley," she said impatiently.
The boy swallowed and lifted the Sorting Hat up, but it didn't even touch the head, barely stirring the red hair, and the Sorting Hat roared, "SLYTHERIN!"
"What will I tell my mother..." the boy whispered before he walked and sat next to Percy and Ginny Weasley. And when Ginerva looked attentive and Percy proud, Ronald was devastated. He and Potter looked at each other intensively from different tables.
After them, only a few students were sorted, among which Oliver Wood, a third Quidditch captain in Gryffindor.
"Congratulations on your sorting," Rowena Ravenclaw said, "I'm certain you will adjust to the situation quickly. Now, desserts and after, you shall all go to bed."
Students picked up their spoons and forks to dig in the multitude of confections on the table, and Minerva wanted to return the Sorting Hat and the stool to the side chamber, but Godric Gryffindor stopped her and put the Hat back on his head.
"I would hate to lose it again," he said, winking to Minerva before he returned to Gryffindors.
Minerva only nodded and returned to her seat. The presidial table was rather silent. Only Aurora and Filius talked animatedly. Half through her apple pie, Pomona cleared her throat,
"A lot of changes," she said to Minerva quietly, "It's almost three out of four wrongly sorted students..."
"How did this happen?" Minerva asked, troubled by the situation. "And we? Why weren't we chosen by the Hat as the heads of houses? You heard what Hufflepuff said, we should be."
"Maybe this was lost through ages," Pomona speculated. She looked worried. "I wouldn't like to lose contact with my students..."
"You won't," Minerva assured her, "Whether you'd be their head of house or not, you may still be there for them. They won't turn on you, you know?"
"Yes, of course," Pomona smiled, somehow comforted. "But the responsibilities... We don't have that much time..."
Minerva pursed her lips. No, they definitely didn't have that much time.
"I won't argue that..." she said after a breath or two. "We shall see what happens in the coming days and then meet for a tea. On Monday, maybe?"
"Let's make it Thursday and give it a whole week," Pomona countered. "We can always exchange opinions in between."
"Settled, then," Minerva smiled.
Soon after the plates went clean, the students started to stand up, and Dumbledore rose, as did Minerva, convinced it was the end of the welcoming feast. However, Dumbledore just stood, and Minerva quickly sat back down, realising her mistake. All of it went unnoticed until Godric boomed.
"One more minute! I believe Albus has a few words for you!"
The students returned to their seats, and Albus smiled calmly.
"Thank you, Godric," he said, "I realise you must be tired. It took much longer than usual. Be so kind as to spare a few more minutes for the old man's talk. I must remind you, of course, that access to the Forbidden Forest is still forbidden. I also ask you to respect Mr Filch's hard work. You might have also noticed that once again, we found ourselves in need of a new teacher for the Defence Against the Dark Arts. During this year, the position will be filled by Godric Gryffindor..." he wanted to keep talking but was forced to stop by the applause. Minerva gathered that it was hard not to like the man, and he already won the sympathy of more than half of the students. When the noise died down, Albus spoke, "Yes, yes, that is certainly exciting. You must know that all of the founders will remain in the school, but these will not be the only guests this year." A murmur full of interest ran through the Hall.
"I am most pleased to announce that this year, Hogwarts will have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event which has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."
There was a commotion among the students, a murmur of excitement. Minerva worried that after everything, students won't be able to sleep tonight.
"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago, as a friendly competition between three largest 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 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, the death toll mounted so high that the Tournament was discontinued."
"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the Tournament" Dumbledore continued, "none of which have been very successful. However, our own Departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer 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."
The fervent reaction among the students and overall elation now grew over the edge and it took a moment to calm the children.
"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, "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 slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious, "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. 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."
"Before I send you to beds, yet another announcement that saddens me, as it will - I believe - sadden most of you. The Triwizard Tournament demands and excitement were judged too great, and I am forced to inform you that the inter-house Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."
"What?" Came from a couple of throats, mostly Quidditch team members, but also from Godric.
"Nonsense!" he exclaimed, "We can still organise some games! You can never have too much fun!"
The students agreed loudly, and Minerva looked at Dumbledore to check what he thought about such a turn of events. She also agreed and voiced that opinion repeatedly during the summer staff meetings. After all, the Tournament actively engaged only three students, and only three tasks were held. And the use of the Quidditch Pitch? Well, that could be arranged somehow. And she spoke her mind right now as well.
"I certainly agree, Headmaster. We shall reconsider."
As soon as she said that, she saw Dumbledore's arms slump a little, but he smiled and spread his arms.
"It seems that you have very strong opinions on the matter," he said, "Considering, we shall discuss the possibility of holding the Quidditch Cup after all. We will pass the final decision in the upcoming weeks. And now, it is very late. Bedtime! Chop chop!"
Finally, the students stood up, but all resorted seemed confused as to where they should go. This, however, was instantly solved by Slytherin, who spoke a little louder than previously.
"New Slytherins, with me."
The resorted students flocked behind the founders without any doubts, and slowly, the Great Hall emptied.