"Oh c'mon Hermione," said Fred in exasperation. "You won't get them sick leave by starving yourself!"
"Slave labor," Hermione protested. She was breathing hard through her nose. "That's what made this dinner. Slave labor." Fred and George rolled their eyes at her. Ever since the Quidditch World Cup, she had been on a crusade against house-elf slavery. For some reason the girl thought that the house-elves actually wanted to be set free. They had told her to let it go.
And yet, the stubborn woman refused to eat another bite.
Fred and George were sitting across from Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Lee Jordan was perched beside George while Alicia occupied the seat beside her boyfriend. Currently, she was trying to capture Fred's attention as Fred, George, and Lee began speaking quietly between themselves.
Of course, Fred and George had told Lee about their betting at the Quidditch Match. Certainly, the money they had made from Bagman wasn't enough to pay for everything for their shop, but it was an immense help. Fred and George needed to make more money. Their plan included selling their inventions to the students of Hogwarts, but at this rate, they wouldn't be opening their shop for years.
Meanwhile, Lee was more than happy to help his friends achieve their dreams of owning a joke shop. He didn't hold the same aspirations. No, he wanted something greater. He wanted nothing more than to be a Quidditch commentator for national league. Aside from commentating at the Quidditch games, there wasn't much he could do while in Hogwarts. So, he was more than happy to help his friends with their endeavors.
"Fred," whined Alicia, pulling on his arm a little. Fred glanced over at her. She had just opened her mouth to voice her annoyance when Dumbledore called the attention of the Great Hall.
"Now, that we are all fed, I must once more ask for your attention while I give out a few notices. Mr. Filch has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list is comprised of four hundred and thirty-seven and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it." Fred and George smirked at one another. Along with their joke shop, they desperately wanted the honor of one day having their products on Filch's ever growing list of banned items.
"As ever," continued Dumbledore, "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." Fred's mouth fell open. No Quidditch? What was the point of going to school if there wasn't going to be Quidditch? "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-"
Thunder resounded in the background. Fred had almost forgotten that it had been raining nearly all day long. The doors to the Great Hall banged opened ominously. A man stood there, staring at them all, leaning heavily on his long staff. Fred, along with the rest of the student body, swiveled in his seat to look at the newcomer. He took a sharp intake of breath, recognizing who the man was. His blue eyes met George's for a moment in awe.
The man walked all the way up to the long table that homed the teachers. He stretched out a hand to Dumbledore when he reached him, muttering something no one could hear. The man proceeded to take a seat at the table and begin eating the food in front of him.
"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? Professor Moody." Excitement flashed through Fred. Moody was going to be their DADA teacher? This year was going to be amazing. Finally, a teacher who had really lived and fought the Dark Arts. Fred thought for a moment of Lupin. He had enjoyed Professor Lupin, he was a great teacher. But this was Mad-Eye Moody! They were going to learn so much this year. The man was a legend.
"As I was saying, 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 couldn't help but exclaim. The entire room burst into laughter at his excitement. He had heard his father talking about the Tournament in the past. This must have been what his brothers and father were talking about all summer. Fred had to enter his name.
"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore replied. "Although, now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent joke over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar..." Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly. Leave it to McGonagall to ruin a perfectly good joke. "Er-but maybe this is not the time. Where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament...well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves. So let me explain." Dumbledore quickly explained the first competition between the wizarding schools, nearly a hundred years ago, and how it was disbanded when the death toll mounted too high.
"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."
A thousand Galleons. That would be exactly what they'd need to open their shop, preferably somewhere in Diagon Alley. Fred was ecstatic. This was absolutely perfect. "I'm going for it," Fred told the Gryffindor table quietly.
"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts, the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are seventeen years or older will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration." Fred was furious. He and George would be seventeen in only seven months! Couldn't the rules be bent for them? They were practically of age. They needed that money desperately. Never before had Fred been so excited for something one minute only to have his hopes crushed the next.
"They can't do that!" George said after Dumbledore had dismissed them for the evening. "We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a shot?"
"They're not stopping me entering," Fred stated, Weasley stubbornness coursing through him. "The champions'll get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money!" His eyes met George's for a moment. They were thinking the same thing, again. They both wanted that money for the shop.
"Well, if you ask me, it's a good thing that you can't enter. Did you hear what Dumbledore said about the death toll? What if something happened to you?" Alicia said, Hermione nodded in the background, agreeing with Fred's girlfriend. There was a reason for the age restriction, and Hermione was certainly glad that it was set in place. But Fred shook off Alicia's statement stubbornly. He turned to George and the two began scheming ways to enter their names.
-----
Draco Malfoy was in a good mood. It was only too easy to tease Weasley about his family. Merlin, it was like the kid was handing it to him on a silver platter. He spotted the Weasel standing with Boy Wonder and Granger in the entrance to the Great Hall. The twins had just joined them when Draco strutted over to where they were standing, holding the Daily Prophet loosely in his hands.
Granger was talking excitedly about how little homework Professor Vector had given them. He had heard how much homework the Divination class had received from Trelawney. Draco was thankful, once again, that he'd had the foresight to take Arithmancy. Sure, his father had nearly ordered him to take the class, but as it was ultimately his own decision, he was grateful he had taken his father's advice. Arithmancy was much more practical.
"Weasley! Hey, Weasley!" The three redheads snapped over to look who had called them. Draco stopped a few feet from where they were as Crabbe and Goyle chuckled to themselves in anticipation of what was to come. "What?" the Weasel said.
"Your dad's in the paper!" Draco told them. He shook out his copy of the Daily Prophet and clearing his voice, began to read the article rather loudly. He was certain half of the Great Hall could hear him.
The article was all about how mad Moody was. The man had thought a handshake was borderline murder. Arthur Weasley had to rush out to Moody's house, modify a bunch of memories, and try to calm Moody down. It was absolutely hysterical to Draco.
Especially when the three Weasleys' faces started turning as red as their hair.
Draco couldn't resist from commenting on how Skeeter had incorrectly named the Weasley father. Even he knew it was Arthur, not Arnold. But Draco had to tease the Weasleys even more. "Imagine them not even getting his name right. It's almost as though he's a complete nonentity, isn't it? And look! There's a picture!" Weasley and his brothers were shaking with anger now. "Potter, you were staying with them over the summer, right? Tell me, is Weasley's mother really that porky or is it just the picture?"
One of the twins strode forward, arm raised like he was about to hit Draco. But Granger grabbed his arm, pulling him back. "Fred, calm down!" she told him. "You'll get in trouble!" Potter was trying to calm the other twin down, too.
"You know your mother, Malfoy?" said Harry. "That expression she's got, like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that or was it just because you were with her?"
Draco stopped, his pale face pinking a little. "Don't you dare insult my mother, Potter." He knew he was being hypocritical with his statement, but he didn't care. There was no one on earth that he loved more than his mother.
"Keep your fat mouth shut, then," Potter said to him. Potter tried to turn away from him. Malfoy raised his wand, thinking a good hex would do Potter some good.
BANG!
Suddenly, Draco was on the ground, looking around scaredly. "OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!" He heard a voice shout. He craned his neck to look up. When had Crabbe and Goyle grown so tall?
He shivered, glancing at himself. No. It couldn't be! He was...He was a ferret! Moody limped over to where Potter was standing, his wand still trained on Draco. Why did this keep happening to him? He wondered. First he was turned into a canary, now he was a ferret.
While Moody was temporarily distracted, Draco tried to make a run for it. Crabbe, the fool, bent down to pick him up. "LEAVE IT!" yelled Moody to Crabbe. Immediately, Ferret Draco ran down the hall. "I don't think so!" roared Moody. Again, Moody pointed his wand at Draco. Draco felt himself rise into the air. With the movement of Moody's wand, Draco was thrown up and down into the air, giving the impression of a bouncing ferret.
And Draco knew that he was going to be known as the Bouncing Ferret for the rest of the year.
"I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back is turned," Moody snarled at Draco. Draco squealed in pain. He hated this. He was certain he was going to be seeing his lunch again soon. "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do..."
Draco learned his lesson, he wanted to plead. He just wanted the bouncing to stop! His eyes glanced around. The entire Great Hall was watching him, laughing their heads off as if it were the funniest thing they'd ever seen. Potter, Granger, and the Weasleys were doubled over in their laughter. He hated them all.
Again, Ferret Draco flew into the air. His legs and tail flailed about helplessly. There was nothing he could do. "Never. Do. That. Again." Draco fell to the stone floor before bouncing up again. He would definitely be needing to see Madam Pomfrey later.
"Professor Moody!" shrieked a voice.
"Hello, Professor McGonagall," Moody replied calmly.
"What are you doing?" Draco gazed at McGonagall, silently praying that she would make it end.
"Teaching," Moody answered.
"Teach-is that a student!"
"Technically, it's a ferret."
"No!" cried McGonagall. She pulled out her wand. A minute later, the bouncing ended and Draco returned to his normal self. He tried to stand up, but immediately wince. He was certain one of his legs had broken.
"Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment! Surely, Professor Dumbledore told you that!"
"He might've mentioned it..."
"We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!"
"I'll do that then," Moody stated. He was staring at Malfoy with incredible disdain plastered on his face. Draco's eyes were filling with water in his pain and humiliation. He was never going to hear the end of this, as long as he lived.
Moody grabbed Draco's upper arm and marched him off to the dungeons. Draco winced in pain at every step, his happy day completely ruined.
-----
Fred and George were on the ground laughing. Ferret Malfoy was easily the funniest thing they had seen in a long while. The stumbled into the Great Hall and sat down with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "Don't talk to me," Ron told them. Instantly, the laughter melted away.
"Don't think too hard on what Malfoy said, Ron," George told him.
"Yeah, he's just a git. He can insult people, but obviously can't take an insult back," Fred continued, thinking of how pink Malfoy had turned at the mention of his mother.
"It's not that," Ron said. "I want to fix that in my memory forever. Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret..." The entire Gryffindor table joined in on their laughter.
"He could have really hurt Malfoy, though," Hermione told them after the laughter died down. She loaded her plate with food. "It was good that Professor McGonagall stopped it when she did. Did you see the way he was limping?"
"Hermione!" Ron said loudly. "You are ruining the best moment of my life!" She rolled her eyes and began eating quickly.
"Granger," Fred interjected, watching her in amazement. Usually, she was berating them for their way of eating. "Make sure you leave time to chew. Can't have you choking on us."
"Don't tell me you're going back to the library this evening?" Harry said.
"Got to. Loads to do."
"But you said-"
"It's not schoolwork," she said in exasperation. It took her a full five minutes to finish her meal before she jumped up and departed the table. Fred frowned at the spot she had just vacated. What on earth was that girl doing if not schoolwork? He sighed a little. It must have something to do with her insane want to free all the house-elves.
As Alicia took Hermione's seat, Fred couldn't help but notice the distinct differences between the two girls. Alicia only ever had two subjects to talk about: shopping and Quidditch. With Hermione, he was never sure what information she would bring into the conversation. And even if he thought she was foolish to want to end slavery for house-elves, at least she was passionate about it. And honestly, who else cared for house elves like that? Hermione had a heart of gold, she cared for everything and everyone.
And for a second, a moment really, he wished he was in the library, too.