The next couple of months passed extremely quickly. Between classes, homework, development of prototypes and making time to talk to Charlie and her father, Malak Aboul Gheit found herself busier than ever before on that sixth year at Hogwarts. And it was only bound to get more hectic the second the tournament started.
She could feel it in the air — there was a sense of anticipation amongst students and teachers alike, which sometimes translated to exceptional severeness, low tolerance for mistakes or simple anxiety. The Egyptian witch was extremely thankful for the incipient project Weasley Wizard Wheezes, which provided the best distraction to keep Malak and her best friends busy and grounded amidst the tense atmosphere that was settling at Hogwarts.
Just a week before Malak's birthday, one random afternoon the witch was on her way back from Herbology to the Common Room with George, but they found themselves incapable to reach their destination, as the entrance hall was completely pack with students of all houses and ages. George easily towered over the masses but Malak was definitely struggling to get through.
"What the heck is going on!?" scoffed she.
"There is a sign," explained George. "Apparently the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang are arriving on the 30th at 6 and there will be a welcoming feast."
Malak nodded.
"Just in time for your birthday" George nudged her, grabbing her arm to help her navigate around the crowd.
From that day on, tension escalated rather quickly. It was the perfect environment for pranks, for the irascibility of the victims usually triggered the funniest reactions. Peeves and the twins thrived — perhaps with the help of a certain Egyptian, who more often than not would 'forget' for far too long the schedules of the prefect rounds laying around the Gryffindor Common Room.
When the day was finally upon them, the castle was cleaner than ever, and the Great Hall looked splendid, decorated with enormous silk banners representing the Four Hogwarts Houses, and the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms.
There was a pleasant feeling of anticipation in the air. Nobody was very attentive in lessons, being much more interested in the arrival that evening of the people from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. Come 6 o'clock, as instructed, Hogwarts students were lined up in front of the castle to receive their guests.
Students were speaking in hushed voices, speculating how the foreign delegations were going to arrive.
"I just hope Madame Maxime brings her horses" said Malak when Lee asked.
"Horses?" George laughed. "A bit of a long road from France to here on horseback."
Malak arched an eyebrow and was about to reply, when Dumbledore's voice resonated from the back row. "Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"
The Egyptian witch scanned the air, looking for those magnificent animals, probably pulling a carriage of some sort, and she was not dissapointed. Soon enough, all the students saw the light blue carriage pulled by the winged horses Olympe Maxime was so proud of. She was not going to miss a chance to show them off.
Soon enough, the carriage landed, and its directrice descended gracefully, leaving the Hogwarts students astonished by both the opulence of her robes and jewells, and her semi-gigantic size.
Dumbledore started to clap; the students, following his lead, broke into applause too.
"My dear Madame Maxime," he said. "Welcome to Hogwarts."
"Dumbly-dort," said Madame Maxime in a deep voice. "I 'ope I find you well?"
"In excellent form, I thank you," said Dumbledore.
"My pupils," said Madame Maxime, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her, where about a dozen boys and girls in their late teens stood, mostly shivering and staring up at Hogwarts with apprehensive looks on their faces.
Malak spotted Rawia Zaghloul rather easily, and was going to wave at her but the strong arm and stern eyes of Minerva McGonagall prevented her from doing so. "Keep the line, Gheit" she muttered.
"'As Karkaroff arrived yet?" Madame Maxime asked.
"He should be here any moment," said Dumbledore. "Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"
"Warm up, I think," said Madame Maxime. "But ze 'orses —"
"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them," said Dumbledore, leading the way for the gigantic woman and her students to pass up the stone steps.
"Eh el gamal da? Minawwara el makan, ya Rawia! (what's that beauty? You lightened up the place, Rawia)" screamed Malak at her friend as the delegation passed.
"B nourek ya Malaki! (with your light Malaki)" the other Egyptian witch replied back, earning disapproving stares from her fellow school mates.
"10 points from Gryffindor!" McGonagall reluctantly whispered, finally releasing Malak's arm, and staring angrily at her.
After Malak and Rawia's screams, the silence was broken only by Madame Maxime's huge horses snorting and stamping. But then a loud and oddly eerie noise was drifting toward the castle from out of the darkness.
"The lake!" yelled Lee right next to Malak. "Look at the lake!"
Bubbles were forming on the surface of the water, waves were washing over the muddy banks — and then, out in the very middle of the lake, a whirlpool appeared, revealing a black pole that rose to the surface, until a ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. A few moments later, the splash of the anchor was followed by people disembarking in heavy cloaks, with one man leading the way — Karkaroff.
"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.
"Dear old Hogwarts," he said, looking up at the castle and showcasing his yellow teeth through his smile.
"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..."
"Harry — it's Krum!" Malak, Lee and the twins heard Ron yell.
"Not again!" groaned George, resting his head on Malak's shoulder.
"This is going to last for the whole tournament" she spoke, "and you know it."
As soon as the Durmstrang party entered, the Hogwarts students followed behind, heading for the Great Hall, but Lee almost fell backwards, as he was jumping up and down.
"Just what are you doing, Lee?" Fred asked.
"I'm trying to see Krum."
"You are an idiot," Fred continued. "I'm sure Miss Malak-International-Quidditch-Player can introduce him."
Lee turned to her with pleading eyes.
"Rawia knows him better," the Egyptian paused, "but I've met him a couple of times, yes."
"Seriously?" it was Angelina speaking this time, as she sat down at Gryffindor's table, were a small group of Beauxbatons students had decided to settle, while the majority had chosen seats at the Ravenclaw table.
"Ya Malaki!" Rawia waved from down the table, and Malak walked over to her, signaling for her friends to follow her.
"Ya Roro!" she hugged the other Egyptian witch. "Habibti."
"Mals, these are my friends Andrés, Clotilde and Clémence" Rawia introduced the people next to her. "Guys, this is Malak, who you've heard of extensively — and this are her friends — er — George, Fred, Angie, Lee and I don't think I've met you."
"This is Alicia — she wasn't at the world cup" Malak introduced her.
The group chatted animatedly during the welcoming feast, while enjoying the delicious and rich food selection that was offered, which included traditional French and Spanish dishes, as well as Eastern European delicacies.
Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again. A pleasant sort of tension seemed to fill the Hall.
"The moment has come," said Dumbledore, 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. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."
There was a round of applause for Bagman, but Malak's worried eyes went directly to find Fred and George, a gesture that did not go unnoticed to Rawia, who seemed confused.
"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.
"The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch," demanded Dumbledore.
Filch placed a chest decorated with all sorts of jewells on the table before Dumbledore, who continued speaking "there will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways. As you know, three champions compete in the tournament, one from each school. 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."
He tapped his wand upon the chest, which opened to reveal the magical artifact, a wooden cup full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames.
"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have 24 hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools."
"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," said Dumbledore, "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line."
"You are going to have a hard time, guys" Malak whispered.
"We are prepared" Fred started, and George continued "don't worry about us."
"You are underage?" Rawia seemed surprised.
"Yeah, they are babies" Malak laughed.
"Babies about a foot taller than you" Fred smiled sarcastically.
"Who do you think will be Hogwarts Champion, guys?" Andrés asked with a thick Spanish accent.
"Malak" all Hogwarts students plus Rawia replied simultaneously.
"Ok, zat's decided zen" Clotilde laughed with a thick French accent.
"Unless she is not entering" Rawia spoke, "which you are, right?"
"Yes" Malak nodded, still blushing a bit. "But I don't like this high expections."
"Ekhrasi ba2a (come on, shut up)" Rawia reprimanded her.
"How about your school, who do you think will be the champion?" Lee asked.
"Probably Fleur" the other French girl, Clémence suggested.
"Delacour!?" Malak rolled her eyes.
"Malak doesn't like her" Rawia laughed. "She met her one time."
"I remember her calling me fetid barbarian in French, thinking I wasn't going to understand her" the Egyptian retorted, "and later she went on to say that I speak French like a Spanish cow! I would like to hear her English — no, better, her Arabic!"
"She is a bit snobby" Andrés commented. "Specially towards the Spanish students."
"She was at my freaking house!" Malak spoke in frustration. "Who goes to somebody's house and insults them?"
"Your grandma agreed with her" Rawia smirked, "and as I recall, you were covered in a very smelly mud."
Malak looked away, "shut up, Rawia!"
Twenty two hours later, the same group sat at the same spot at the Gryffindor table. Not much had changed — apart from an almost visit to the Hospital Wing, prevented by Malak's antidote for the aging potion the twins and Lee had ingested, and the actual submission of the names of the people that were of age. Malak's 17th birthday could not have come at a better time.
She was however, disappointed. As the previous year, she would have liked to receive a certain visit by a certain dragon tamer, although she had gradually convinced herself that it wasn't going to happen due to her boyfriend's busy schedule as a result of whatever involvement he was having on the tournament. But at least she would have hoped for a letter. Perhaps just a simple sentence on the linked parchment.
She got none.
As a result, Malak Aboul Gheit was now sitting at the Halloween Feast, waiting for the Champions' names to be announced, with her head completely elsewhere.
All she could think about was Charlie Weasley and why on Earth he hadn't talked to her in all day. Maybe he is really busy.
But her mind quickly shifted to more pessimistic scenarios. Maybe he is hurt.
Maybe he is bored of me.
She shook her head, trying to physically distract herself from her own thoughts.
The Halloween feast seemed to drag on much longer than usual. Perhaps because it was the second feast in two days, or maybe because Malak didn't seem to enjoy the extravagantly prepared food due to her lack of appetite.
Like everyone else in the Hall, judging by the constantly craning necks, the impatient expressions on every face, the fidgeting, and the standing up to see whether Dumbledore had finished eating yet, Malak simply wanted the plates to clear, and to be over with it.
At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state and there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall, which died away almost instantly as Dumbledore got to his feet. On either side of him, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Ludo Bagman was beaming and winking at various students. Mr. Crouch, however, looked quite uninterested, almost bored.
"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" he indicated the door behind the staff table "where they will be receiving their first instructions."
He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting... A few people kept checking their watches...
"Any second," Lee whispered, but Malak couldn't care less — she just didn't have the mind for it.
The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it — the whole room gasped.
Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white.
"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."
"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"
Once the clapping and chatting died down, everyone's attention was focused again on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.
"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"
Malak rolled her eyes, as the girl got gracefully to her feet, shook back her sheet of silvery blonde hair, and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.
"Your best friend," Angelina nudged the Egyptian and rolled her eyes as well, earning a small smirk from Malak.
"That's better" the girl whispered, winking at Malak.
As Fleur Delacour vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement it could almost be tasted. The Hogwarts champion was next. And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.
"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Malak Aboul Gheit!"
The uproar from the Gryffindor table was just obnoxiously loud. Every single person on the table but Malak herself had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping. Out of nowhere, Lee Jordan tackled the Egyptian to the ground, crying tears of pure happiness.
"SHE IS MY BEST FRIEND!" he bellowed.
"Let her walk, Lee!" reprimanded Angelina, grabbing both their arms to help them un, and then she pushed Malak towards the staff table.
As she made her way down between the Gryffindor and Huffepuff tables, Malak allowed herself to smile — for the first time in a long time, she allowed her worries to slip away, to be pushed so back in her mind that they didn't seem to matter at all. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she had accomplished something — something she should be extremely proud of.
And the long applause and cheers of the Hogwarts student body, only confirmed it — for the first time in a long time, she was proud of herself; she was proud to be worthy to represent the school, and she was determined to make herself and the school even prouder by winning the tournament.
Malak closed the door behind her as she entered the small chamber behind the teachers' table, but the applause kept going.
"Malak" Viktor Krum greeted her with a hug, "congratulations!"
"You too, Viktor!" she hugged him back, and then she turned to Fleur with a sincere smile, deciding to wipe the slate clean between the two of them as a result of the euphoria of the moment. "Félicitations, Fleur! Tu connais Viktor déjà, n'est pas? (Congratulations, Fleur! You know Viktor already, don't you?)"
"Merci. À toi aussi. Et non, en fait, on ne se connaît pas. (Thank you. You too. And no, actually we don't know each other)" the French girl spoke curtly.
"Viktor, this is Fleur Delacour" Malak introduced with evident excitement on her tone, "and Fleur this is Viktor Krum. And apparently the three of us are the champions of the Triwizard Tourn—"
But she was interrupted by someone entering the room. Malak turned around still donning a wide smile, expecting to see Dumbledore and the other directors and ministry officials, but instead, she was met with the last person she was wanted to see, for it could only mean something had gone terribly wrong.
Harry Potter.
Thank you for reading!
And get ready for the next chapters! A lot of things are happening!
You've been warned!
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