Claire: "Bloody hell, tis chapter is way longer than the previous one."
Alex: "Well Skyguy is very bad at splitting his chapter's up. Speaking off, have you found him yet?"
Claire: "No... The only place I haven't looked is under his desk, but he can't possible be there."
Alex: "So what do we do now?"
Claire: "I got an idea, but first let's get to the review... You think girani4 is being sarcastic about the revelation that Sirius is a Knight of Sephylon?"
Alex: "Nhye, he is too nice for that. So what's the plan?"
Claire: "I guess we have no other option left to ask him for help?"
Alex: "Him? Who's him?"
Claire: "You know who."
Alex: "Voldemort!?"
Voldemort apparate's in: "You spoke my name youngest Kent?"
Claire: "Not you!... Someone more dangerous."
Voldemort: "...Morgenstern?"
Claire: "Okay... Not that dangerous."
Voldemort: "By the way, who are those people on the other side of the screen."
Alex: "Oh, those are the reader's. Their pretty cool."
Through the gates, flanked with statues of winged boars, and up the sweeping drive the carriages trundled, swaying dangerously in what was fast becoming a gale. Leaning against the window, Claire could see Hogwarts coming nearer, its many lighted windows blurred and shimmering behind the thick curtain of rain. Lightning flashed across the sky as their carriage came to a halt before the great oak front doors, which stood at the top of a flight of stone steps.
People who had occupied the carriages in front were already hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. Harry, Claire, Alex, Ron, Neville and Hermione jumped down from their carriage and dashed up the steps too, looking up only when they were safely inside the cavernous, torch-lit entrance hall, with its magnificent marble staircase.
"Blimey," Ron said, shaking his head and sending water everywhere, "If that keeps up the lake's going to overflow. I'm soaked." as they slid across the entrance hall and through the double doors on the right.
The Great Hall looked its usual splendid self, decorated for the start-of-term feast. Golden plates and goblets gleamed by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles, floating over the tables in midair.
The four long House tables were packed with chattering students; at the top of the Hall, the staff sat along one side of a fifth table, facing their pupils, it was much warmer in here. Harry, Claire, Alex, Ron, Neville and Hermione walked past the Slytherin's, the Ravenclaw's, and the Hufflepuff's, and sat down with the rest of the Gryffindor's at the far side of the Hall, next to Nearly Headless Nick.
Nick was dressed tonight in his usual doublet, but with a particularly large ruff, which served the dual purpose of looking extra-festive, and insuring that his head didn't wobble too much on his partially severed neck.
"Good evening." he said, beaming at them.
"Says who?" Harry said, taking off his sneakers and emptying them of water.
"Nick did.", Alex said, leaning on the table, "Hope they hurry up with the Sorting. I'm starving."
Just then, a highly excited, breathless voice called down the table. "Hiya, Harry!"
It was Colin.
"Hi, Colin...", Harry said warily.
"Harry, guess what? Guess what, Harry?", Colin said excitedly, "My brother's starting! My brother Dennis!"
"There are more of you!?", Claire said horrified.
"He's really excited!" Colin said, practically bouncing up and down in his seat, "I just hope he's in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed!"
"Sure why not?", Harry said, he turned back to Claire, Alex, Ron, Neville, Hermione, and Nearly Headless Nick, "Brothers and sisters usually go in the same Houses, don't they?", he was judging by the Weasley's, all seven of whom had been put into Gryffindor.
"Not necessarily.", Alex said, "Padme or Panda bear or whatever the name of Parvati's twin is, she is in Ravenclaw, and they're identical... I found that out the hard way."
The rest looked a bit surprised at each other before Neville said, "... I think you have way to much fun when we are not around..."
There seemed to be rather more empty seats there than usual at the staff table. Hagrid, of course, was still fighting his way across the lake with the first years, Professor McGonagall was presumably supervising the drying of the entrance hall floor, but there was another empty chair too.
"Where's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?", Hermione said, who was also looking up at the teachers.
"Maybe they couldn't get anyone!", Neville suggested.
"Great!", Claire said, "More Combat Classes with Jeager."
Professor Flitwick was sitting on a large pile of cushions between Snape and Jeager who was talking to Professor Sinistra.
On Sinistra's other side was an empty seat, which should be Professor McGonagall's. Next to it, and in the very center of the table, sat Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, his sweeping silver hair and beard shining in the candlelight, his magnificent deep green robes embroidered with many stars and moons.
The tips of Dumbledore's long, thin fingers were together and he was resting his chin upon them, staring up at the ceiling through his half-moon spectacles as though lost in thought.
"Oh hurry up." Ron moaned, beside Harry, "I could eat a hippogriff."
"I wonder how that taste like...", Alex pondered, "Probably like chicken."
The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the doors of the Great Hall opened and silence fell. Professor McGonagall was leading a long line of first years up to the top of the Hall.
The first year's looked like they had swum across the lake rather than sailed. All of them were shivering with a combination of cold and nerves as they filed along the staff table and came to a halt in a line facing the rest of the school, all of them except the smallest of the lot, a boy with mousy hair, who was wrapped in Hagrid's moleskin overcoat.
The coat was so big for him that it hooked as though he were draped in a furry black circus tent. His small face protruded from over the collar, looking almost painfully excited.
Professor McGonagall now placed a three-legged stool on the ground before the first years and, on top of it, an extremely old, dirty patched wizard's hat.
The first years stared at it. So did everyone else. For a moment, there was silence. Then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song:
A thousand years or more ago,
When I was newly sewn,There lived four wizards of renown,
Whose names are still well known:
Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,
Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,
Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,
Shrewd Slytherin, from fin.
They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,
They hatched a daring plan
To educate young sorcerers
Thus Hogwarts School began.
Now each of these four founders
Formed their own house, for each
Did value different virtues
In the ones they had to teach.
By Gryffindor, the bravest were
Prized far beyond the rest;
For Ravenclaw, the cleverest
Would always be the best;
For Hufflepuff, hard workers were
Most worthy of admission;
And power-hungry Slytherin
Loved those of great ambition.
While still alive they did divide
Their favorites from the throng,
Yet how to pick the worthy ones
When they were dead and gone?
Twas Gryffindor who found the way,
He whipped me off his head
The founders put some brains in me
So I could choose instead!
Now slip me snug about your ears,
I've never yet been wrong,
I'll have a look inside your mind
And tell where you belong!
The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished. Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment. "When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool," she told the first years, "When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table. Ackerley, Stewart!"
A boy walked forward, visibly trembling from head to foot, picked up the Sorting Hat, put it on, and sat down on the stool.
"Ravenclaw!" shouted the hat.
Stewart Ackerley took off the hat and hurried into a seat at the Ravenclaw table, where everyone was applauding him.
A while later, tiny Dennis Creevey staggered forward, tripping over Hagrid's moleskin, just as Hagrid himself sidled into the Hall through a door behind the teachers' table. He winked at them as he sat down at the end of the staff table and watched Dennis Creevey putting on the Sorting Hat. The rip at the brim opened wide, "Gryffindor!", the hat shouted.
Hagrid clapped along with the Gryffindors as Dennis Creevey, beaming widely, took off the hat, placed it back on the stool, and hurried over to join his brother.
"Colin, I fell in!" he said shrilly, throwing himself into an empty seat, "It was brilliant! And something in the water grabbed me and pushed me back in the boat!"
"Cool!" Colin said, just as excitedly, "It was probably the giant squid, Dennis!"
"Whoa!", Dennis said, as though nobody in their wildest dreams could hope for more than being thrown into a storm-tossed, fathoms-deep lake, and pushed out of it again by a giant sea monster.
"Dennis! Dennis! See that boy down there? The one with the black hair and the... Where are his glasses? Anyway, the boy next to the girl with the emo hair, do you see him? Know who he is, Dennis?"
Harry looked away, staring very hard at the Sorting Hat, as the Sorting continued, boys and girls with varying degrees of fright on their faces moving one by one to the three-legged stool, the line dwindling slowly as Professor McGonagall passed the List's.
And finally, with "Whitby, Kevin!" ("Hufflepuff!"), the Sorting ended. Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and the stool and carried them away. "About time.", Ron said, seizing his knife and fork and looking expectantly at his golden plate.
Professor Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was smiling around at the students, his arms opened wide in welcome. "I have only two words to say to you," he told them, his deep voice echoing around the Hall. "Tuck in."
"Hear, hear!", Harry, Claire, Alex, Ron and Neville said loudly as the empty dishes filled magically before their eyes.
The rain was still drumming heavily against the high, dark glass. Another clap of thunder shook the windows, and the stormy ceiling flashed, illuminating the golden plates as the remains of the first course vanished and were replaced, instantly, with puddings.
When the puddings too had been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard.
"So!" Dumbledore said, smiling around at them all, "Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. 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-yo's, 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."
The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched as he continued, "As ever, 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 will not take place this year."
"Say what now!?" Harry gasped.
He looked around at Fred and George, his fellow members of the Quidditch team. They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak. Dumbledore went on, "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..."
But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and 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. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. 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 echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Hermione gasped.
The lightning had thrown the man's face into sharp relief, and it was a face unlike any Claire had ever seen. It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces are supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes that made him frightening.
One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye, and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all they could see was whiteness.
The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words. He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head unsmiling and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side.
The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark gray hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it.
He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students. "May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Dumbledore said brightly into the silence, "Professor Moody."
It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students clapped except Dumbledore, Jeager and Hagrid, who both put their hands together and applauded, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by Moody's bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him.
Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his traveling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, and took a long drought from it.
As he lifted his arm to drink, his cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground, and Claire saw, below the table, several inches of carved wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot.
Dumbledore cleared his throat. "As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, "We are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that 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."
"You're JOKING!" Fred said loudly. The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke.
Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively. "I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "Though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about kungfu space Jesus, a rich vigilante with a monkey tail, a clawed psychopath, a high functioning sociopath, and an blue haired Asian bookworm who all go into a bar."
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly. "Er... but maybe this is not the time... no..." Dumbledore said, "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 three largest 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."
"In a departure from tradition, the departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Sports and Games, as well as the current headmaster of each school, have decided to have six champions instead of the usual three. Each school will have both a senior and a junior champion. The seniors must all be of age, that is seventeen years or older, while the junior must be fourteen and no older than sixteen, So that those of you who are already of age cannot have two opportunities at becoming a champion. No matter which champion you will become, all champions will face the same tasks, no matter their age."
The majority of students in the Hall; many of them were whispering excitedly to one another. "The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders tomorrow evening before dinner, and the selection of the six champions will take place the day after that. 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."
"I'm going for it!" Fred hissed down the table, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. He was not the only person who seemed to be visualizing himself as the Hogwarts champion.
At every House table, Claire could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore, or else whispering fervently to their neighbors. But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more.
"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will remaining with us for the greater part of this year as well taking part in some of the classes. 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 champions 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. Bedtime! Chop chop!"
Dumbledore sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody. There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall.
"I am going to enter.", Fred said determent, also scowling at the top table, "The champions will get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money!"
"Yeah.", Ron said, a faraway look on his face, "Yeah, a thousand Galleons..."
"Come on.", Hermione said, "We'll be the only ones left here if you don't move."
Harry, Claire, Alex, Ron, Neville, Hermione, Fred, and George set off for the entrance hall.
"Who's this impartial judge who's going to decide who the champions are?", Harry said.
"Sounds to me like once tis judge knows who wants to enter, he'll choose the best from each school.", Claire said.
"People have died, though!" Hermione said in a worried voice as they walked through a door concealed behind a tapestry and started up another, narrower staircase.
"That was years ago!", Alex said, "Anyway, where's the fun without a bit of risk?"
"Hey, Ron, fancy entering as a junior champion?", Fred said.
"What d'you reckon? Be cool to enter, wouldn't it?", Ron asked Harry, Claire and Neville.
"I suppose they might want someone older... Dunno if we've learned enough.", Harry said.
They made their way up to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, which was concealed behind a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress.
"Password?" she said as they approached.
"Balderdash.", George said, "A prefect downstairs told me."
The portrait swung forward to reveal a hole in the wall through which they all climbed. A crackling fire warmed the circular common room, which was full of squashy armchairs and tables. Claire and Hermione bid them good night and disappearing through the doorway to the girl's dormitory.
Six four-poster beds with deep crimson hangings stood against the walls, each with its owner's trunk at the foot. Lavender and Parvati were already getting into bed.
Claire and Hermione got into their pajamas and into bed. Someone had placed warming pans between the sheets. It was extremely comfortable, lying there in bed and listening to the storm raging outside.
"Think your going for it?", Hermione said sleepily through the darkness, "I think of all the students, you got the biggest change of winning the whole thing."
"Maybe.", Claire said, rolling over in her bed.
When they went down to breakfast the following morning, they found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts House: red with a gold lion for Gryffiindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teachers' table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger, and snake united around a large letter H.
Harry, Claire, Alex, Ron, Neville and Hermione sat down beside Fred and George at the Gryffindor table.
"Wonder what the tasks are going to be?" Ron said thoughtfully, "You know, I bet we could do them. We've done dangerous stuff before..."
There was a pleasant feeling of anticipation in the air that day. Nobody was very attentive in lessons, being much more interested in the arrival that evening of the people from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang.
After classes ended, they dropped their bags off in the common room before heading to the entrance hall where, the Heads of Houses were ordering their students into lines. "Follow me, please." Professor McGonagall said, "First years in front... no pushing..."
They filed down the steps and lined up in front of the castle. It was a cold, clear evening, dusk was falling and a pale, transparent-looking moon was already shining over the Forbidden Forest.
"Nearly six.", Ron said, checking his watch and then staring down the drive that led to the front gates, "How d'you reckon they're coming? The train?"
"I doubt it.", Hermione said.
"How, then? Broomsticks?" Harry suggested, looking up at the starry sky.
"Not from that far away...", Claire said.
They scanned the darkening grounds excitedly, but nothing was moving; everything was still, silent, and quite as usual. Then Dumbledore called out from the back row where he stood with the other teachers, "Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"
"Where?", many said students eagerly, all looking in different directions.
Something large, much larger than a broomstick was hurtling across the deep blue sky toward the castle, growing larger all the time.
"It's a dragon!", shrieked one of the first years, losing her head completely.
"Don't be stupid... it's a flying house!" said Dennis Creevey.
Dennis's guess was closer... As the gigantic black shape skimmed over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest and the lights shining from the castle windows hit it, they saw a gigantic, powderblue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring toward them, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant.
The front three rows of students drew backward as the carriage hurtled ever lower, coming in to land at a tremendous speed, then, with an almighty crash that made Neville jump backward knocking Claire against Jeager, who was standing right behind her, the horses' hooves, larger than dinner plates, hit the ground.
A second later, the carriage landed too, bouncing upon its vast wheels, while the golden horses tossed their enormous heads and rolled large, fiery red eyes.
Claire just had time to see that the door of the carriage bore a coat of arms, two crossed, golden wands, each emitting three stars, before it opened. A boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage, bent forward, fumbled for a moment with something on the carriage floor, and unfolded a set of golden steps.
He sprang back respectfully, then Claire saw a shining, high-heeled black shoe emerging from the inside of the carriage, a shoe the size of a child's sled, followed, almost immediately, by the largest woman she had ever seen in her life. The size of the carriage, and of the horses, was immediately explained. A few people gasped.
Claire had only ever seen one person as large as this woman in his life, and that was Hagrid; she doubted whether there was an inch difference in their heights.
As she stepped into the light flooding from the entrance hall, she was revealed to have a handsome, olive-skinned face, Large, black, liquid-looking eyes, and a rather beaky nose. Her hair was drawn back in a shining knob at the base of her neck. She was dressed from head to foot in black satin, and many magnificent opals gleamed at her throat and on her thick fingers.
Dumbledore started to clap, the students, following his lead, broke into applause too, many of them standing on tiptoe, the better to look at this woman. Her face relaxed into a gracious smile and she walked forward toward Dumbledore, extending a glittering hand.
Dumbledore, though tall himself, had barely to bend to kiss it. "My dear Madame Maxime." he said, "Welcome to Hogwarts."
"Dumbly-dort.", Madame Maxime said in a deep voice, "I 'ope I find you well?"
"In excellent form, I thank you.", Dumbledore said.
"My pupils.", Madame Maxime said, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her.
Claire, whose attention had been focused completely upon Madame Maxime, now noticed that about a dozen boys and girls, all, by the look of them, in their late teens, had emerged from the carriage and were now standing behind Madame Maxime.
They were shivering, which was unsurprising, given that their robes seemed to be made of fine silk. From what Claire could see of them, they were staring up at Hogwarts with apprehensive looks on their faces.
"Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?", Dumbledore asked.
"Warm up, I think.", Madame Maxime said imperiously to her students, and the Hogwarts crowd parted to allow her and her students to pass up the stone steps.
Claire then noticed several male students, including Harry, Alex, Ron and Neville, leering at a certain Beauxbatons student, while most girls were glaring at her. Claire was quite confused at the glares she was getting as he looked at her, she was tall and willowy, with an air of grace that made her seem like she was gliding when she was walking, she also had beautiful silvery-blonde hair that fell almost to her waist, and fair skin.
As she walked closer she noticed the girl was staring in the direction of Claire, with her deep sky blue eyes. For some reason she stopped and she was about to take a step towards them, until Madam Maxime called out to her, "Is there a problem, Fleur?", she asked in French.
The girl now named Fleur quickly shook her head, shooting a smile that caused Neville nearly to faint and she began walking into the school.
"That girl! She isn't normal.", Ron said, snapping out whatever trance he was in.
They stood, shivering slightly now, waiting for the Durmstrang party to arrive. Most people were gazing hopefully up at the sky.
For a few minutes, the silence was broken only by Madame Maxime's huge horses snorting and stamping.
"Can you hear something?", Neville asked suddenly. A loud and oddly eerie noise was drifting toward them from out of the darkness: a muffled rumbling and sucking sound, as though an immense vacuum cleaner were moving along a riverbed...
"The lake!", Lee yelled, pointing down at it, "Look at the lake!"
From their position at the top of the lawns overlooking the grounds, they had a clear view of the smooth black surface of the water, except that the surface was suddenly not smooth at all.
Some disturbance was taking place deep in the center, great bubbles were forming on the surface, waves were now washing over the muddy banks, and then, out in the very middle of the lake, a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had just been pulled out of the lake's floor.
What seemed to be a long, black pole began to rise slowly out of the heart of the whirlpool, slowly, magnificently, the ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. It had a strangely skeletal look about it, as though it were a resurrected wreck, and the dim, misty lights shimmering at its portholes looked like ghostly eyes. Finally, with a great sloshing noise, the ship emerged entirely, bobbing on the turbulent water, and began to glide toward the bank.
A few moments later, they heard the splash of an anchor being thrown down in the shallows, and the thud of a plank being lowered onto the bank.
People were disembarking, they could see their silhouettes passing the lights in the ship's portholes. All of them seemed to be built along the lines of Crabbe and Goyle but then, as they drew nearer, walking up the lawns into the light streaming from the entrance hall, he saw that their bulk was really due to the fact that they were wearing cloaks of some kind of shaggy, matted fur.
But the man who was leading them up to the castle was wearing furs of a different sort, sleek and silver, like his hair.
"Dumbledore!" he called heartily as he walked up the slope, "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"
"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff.", Dumbledore replied.
Karkaroff had a fruity, unctuous voice, when he stepped into the light pouring from the front doors of the castle they saw that he was tall and thin like Dumbledore, but his white hair was short, and his goatee, did not entirely hide his rather weak chin. When he reached Dumbledore, he shook hands with both of his own.
"Dear old Hogwarts.", he said, looking up at the castle and smiling; his teeth were rather yellow, his smile did not extend to his eyes, which remained cold and shrewd, "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 forward one of his students. As the boy passed, Claire caught a glimpse of a prominent curved nose and thick black eyebrows. She didn't need the Ron hiss in her ear, to recognize that profile. "It's Krum!"
As the Hogwarts students filed back up the steps behind the party from Durmstrang. "I don't believe it!" Ron said, in a stunned voice, "Krum! Viktor Krum!"
"For heaven's sake, Ron, he's only a Quidditch player.", Hermione said.
"Only a Quidditch player?" Ron said, looking at her as though he couldn't believe his ears, "Hermione, he's one of the best Seekers in the world! I had no idea he was still at school!"
As they recrossed the entrance hall with the rest of the Hogwarts students heading for the Great Hall, Claire saw Lee jumping up and down on the soles of his feet to get a better look at the back of Krum's head.
Several sixth-year girls were frantically searching their pockets as they walked. "Oh I don't believe it, I haven't got a single quill on me..."
"D'you think he'd sign my hat in lipstick?"
"Really.", Hermione said loftily as they passed the girls, now squabbling over the lipstick.
"I'm getting his autograph if I can." Ron said, "You haven't got a quill, have you, Neville?"
"Nope, they're upstairs in my bag.", Neville said.
They walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat down. Ron took care to sit on the side facing the doorway, because Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students were still gathered around it, apparently unsure about where they should sit.
The students from Beauxbatons had chosen seats at the Ravenclaw table. They were looking around the Great Hall with glum expressions on their faces. Three of them were still clutching scarves and shawls around their heads.
"It's not that cold.", Hermione said defensively, "Why didn't they bring cloaks?"
"How should I know?", Alex said.
While Ron hissed, "Over here! Come and sit over here! Claire, budge up, make a space... Too late.", Ron said bitterly.
Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students had settled themselves at the Slytherin table. Claire could see Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle looking very smug about this.
As she watched, Malfoy bent forward to speak to Krum. "Yeah, that's right, smarm up to him, Malfoy.", Ron said scathingly, "I bet Krum can see right through him, though... bet he gets people fawning over him all the time... Where do you reckon they're going to sleep? We could offer him a space in our dormitory... I wouldn't mind giving him my bed, I could sleep on a camp bed."
Hermione snorted.
"They look a lot happier than the Beauxbatons lot.", Neville said.
The Durmstrang students were pulling off their heavy furs and looking up at the starry black ceiling with expressions of interest, a couple of them were picking up the golden plates and goblets and examining them, apparently impressed.
Up at the staff table, Filch, the caretaker, was adding chairs. He was wearing his moldy old tailcoat in honor of the occasion. Claire was surprised to see that he added four chairs, two on either side of Dumbledore's.
"But there are only two extra people," Harry said, "Why's Filch putting out four chairs, who else is coming?"
"Eh?" Ron said vaguely, he was still staring avidly at Krum.
When all the students had entered the Hall and settled down at their House tables, the staff entered, filing up to the top table and taking their seats.
Last in line were Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime. When their headmistress appeared, the pupils from Beauxbatons leap to their feet.
A few of the Hogwarts students laughed. The Beauxbatons party appeared quite unembarrassed, however, and did not resume their seats until Madame Maxime had sat down on Dumbledore's left-hand side. Dumbledore remained standing, and a silence fell over the Great Hall.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and most particularly guests. I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable.", Dumbledore said, beaming around at the foreign students, "The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast. I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"
Over at the staff table, the plates in front of them filled with food as usual. The house-elves in the kitchen seemed to have pulled out all the stops, there was a greater variety of dishes in front of them than Charles had ever seen, including several that were definitely foreign.
"What's that?" Snape said, pointing at a large dish of some sort of shellfish stew that stood beside a large steak-and-kidney pudding.
"Bouillabaisse.", Flitwick said after studying the dish.
"Did you make that word up?", Snape asked.
"It's French, Sev.", Charles said, "I had it on holiday summer before last. It's very nice."
"I'll take your word for it.", Snape sneered at the dish before quickly adding, "Charles, if you think of force feeding me that grub, I will make sure you lose all your perfectly white teeth."
"I wasn't thinking...", Charles began with a grin, "Oh, who am I kidding. I totally was."
The Great Hall seemed somehow much more crowded than usual, even though there were barely twenty additional students there, perhaps it was because their differently colored uniforms stood out so clearly against the black of the Hogwarts robes. During the entire feast, Charles had the feeling as if he was being watched by someone.
Hagrid sidled into the Hall through a door behind the staff table twenty minutes after the start of the feast. He slid into his seat at the end near Flitwick.
"Doing all right, Hagrid?", Charles said.
"Thrivin'.", Hagrid said happily.
At that moment, a voice said, "Excuse me sir, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?"
It was Fleur, the girl from Beauxbatons who had stared at Charles when Bauxbaton had arrived. "Yeah, have it.", Charles said pushing the dish toward the girl.
"You have finished wiz it?", Fleur asked again, her eyes not letting Charles go for a second.
"Yes, we are.", Charles said, "You know, mi'lady, staring isn't very polite, you know."
The girl realized that she was staring, she thanked them, picking up the dish and carried it carefully off to the Ravenclaw table.
"Someone has an admirer.", Flitwick teased with a smile.
"She and half of the Sixth and seventh years.", Snape snarked, "But that isn't a normal girl."
"Yeah...", Jeager said, looking into the direction Fleur went, "She is something else... Don't quote me on that."
The two remaining empty seats had just been filled. Ludo Bagman was now sitting on Professor Karkaroff's other side, while Mr. Crouch was next to Madame Maxime.
When the second course arrived they noticed a number of unfamiliar desserts too. Snape examined an odd sort of pale blancmange closely, before moving it away from him.
"And tis is the reason we never take you with us when we go out for Chinese food.", Charles said to his friend, "Your too much of a picky eater."
"That's because we aren't allowed into the only serviceable Chinese restaurant after that stunt you pulled.", Snape sneered, "Because once again, you had a little too much to drink, you proceeded to fuck a koifish in the mouth until it died in front of the manager."
Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again. A pleasant sort of tension seemed to fill the Hall now.
"The moment has come.", Dumbledore said, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces, "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket. Just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year."
"But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation.", there was a smattering of polite applause, "and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."
There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps because of his fame as a Beater, or simply because he looked so much more likable. He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand. Mr. Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced.
"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament." Dumbledore continued, "And they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions efforts."
At the mention of the word 'champions', the attentiveness of the listening students seemed to sharpen. Perhaps Dumbledore had noticed their sudden stillness, for he smiled as he said, "The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."
Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall, now approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old.
A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students.
"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman.", Dumbledore said as Filch placed the chests carefully on the table before him, "And they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways... their magical prowess, their daring, their powers of deduction, and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."
At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing. "As you know, six champions compete in the tournament.", Dumbledore went on calmly, "Two from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."
Dumbledore now took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames. Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall.
"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name, school and age clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet.", Dumbledore said, "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, the goblet will return the names of the six it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the middle of the Great Hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete."
"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."
Charles, Snape and Flitwick made their way across the Hall to the doors into the entrance hall, "I don't think anyone under sixteen or seventeen will stand a chance.", Snape argued, "They just haven't learned enough..."
"I won't know, we have a bunch of talented fifteen years and younger.", Flitwick said, "Who do you think will be the Hogwarts champions?"
"My money is on Claire Kent for the Junior champ.", Charles said, hands in his pockets. Up ahead, they saw Karkaroff staring at Harry, who was standing there with his friends, and stared at him as though he couldn't believe his eyes.
Behind their headmaster, the students from Durmstrang came to a halt too. Karkaroff's eyes moved slowly up Harry's face and fixed upon his scar. The Durmstrang students were staring curiously at Harry too.
"Yeah, that's Harry Potter.", Snape said.
Professor Karkaroff spun around. The color drained from Karkaroff's face, "You!" he said, staring at Snape as though unsure he was really seeing him.
"Yes, me." Snape said grimly.
"Got anything to say to Harry, Karkaroff?", Charles said, "Because you might want to move. You're blocking the doorway."
It was true, half the students in the Hall were now waiting behind them, looking over one another's shoulders to see what was causing the holdup.
Without another word, Professor Karkaroff swept his students away with him. Charles, Snape and Flitwick watched him until he was out of sight.
"See you six in the morning.", Charles said to his six favorite Gryffindor's, before the trio of teacher's left the Great Hall.
Alex: "You know Lord V, your kinda a nice guy when your off-work."
Voldemort: "It's only a role I play for this story. I am pretty sure you are different behind-the-scene."
Alex: "No, I am pretty much the same guy."
Voldemort: "...I see. I think the reader's are back."
Alex: "Oh, didn't see you ladies and gent's there. Anyways hope you enjoyed it. Don't forget to leave a review if you enjoyed it, thanks for favorite this story and following it. Hope to see you all next time!"
Voldemort: "Do you always do that at the end of every chapter?"
Alex: "Well not me, most of the time it's Skyguy."