Clary and Vasantha entered the Gryffindor sixth year girls' dormitory to drop off their backpacks before the students from the guest schools arrived, the redheaded girl pushing open the door to reveal a whirlwind awaiting them in the room beyond. Angelina and Alicia were in front of the mirror at the far end of the room, both girls incredibly concerned about the way their hair looked that evening, and whether or not their robes seemed too drab for the occasion.
"What's the matter with you two?" Clary asked, dropping her bag on her bed and crossing her arms over her chest.
"The other schools are set to be here any minute," Alicia said, giving herself a final once over in the mirror before finally pulling herself away to head to the door. "You never know what types of boys are about to walk through those doors tonight."
"Oh, blimey," Vas groaned, setting down her own bag and reaching up to the top of her bed, where her Gryffindor scarf hung. "Ladies, don't worry about wearing your robes tonight. I can guarantee you, everyone else will be like we normally do, and they'll more than likely have uniforms on too. You'll both be fine."
"How great can these boys be, anyways?" Clary asked. "It's not like, like..." she racked her brain, trying to think of an example, "I don't know, it's not like Viktor Krum's going to walk through that door tonight. Relax."
The two Gryffindor girls finally regained their composure, thanking Clary and Vasantha before heading out the door to make their way outside to the courtyard to prepare for the grand arrival. In the two months since they'd arrived back at Hogwarts for the new school year, everyone was absolutely buzzing with anticipation for the arrival of the guest schools, Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and the Durmstrang Institute, for the upcoming Triwizard Tournament. Now that it was finally here, it was all anyone could talk about that day, resulting in some very disgruntled professors unable to get their lectures across in their classes.
"Do you think we underdressed?" Vasantha asked with a smirk as she and Clary descended the staircase into the common room, which contained a few other Gryffindors primping and preening themselves in preparation to meet the new students. In the corner of the room, Lavender Brown was helping a second year by the name of Romilda Vane braid her hair before the event, the two gossiping about makeup tips as the sixth year girls passed by on their way out of the common room.
Clary and Vasantha exited the castle, making their way through the chilly October air into the courtyard where everyone was waiting. As they made their way through the crowd looking for Fred, George, and Lee, they managed to catch snippets of conversations going on all around them, all of them consisting of who from Hogwarts they thought might be so lucky as to be chosen to compete in the tournament.
"This is quite the occasion," Clary noted as the two girls finally reached their friends, her eyes briefly meeting Newt's from where he stood next to Cedric and a few other Hufflepuffs across the courtyard, though she didn't dare move her gaze to the Diggory boy, who she knew wasn't looking anywhere near her direction either.
After her fateful night running into Cedric and Cho in the hallway, Clary had done her best to avoid Cedric; though, as the boy had already been avoiding her the best he could, she didn't have to try very hard. To Clary's knowledge, Cho herself wasn't aware of their situation, often giving Clary a friendly smile or a hello in passing. Clary wanted to hate the girl, and tried her hardest, though she couldn't help feeling sorry for the young Ravenclaw, as it wasn't her fault they had both fallen for the same guy and Clary was the one left to pick up the pieces. Newt had also tried his hardest to figure out what was going on in Cedric's mind, though he always managed to steer their conversation elsewhere without fail, and without responding to Newt's questions.
"Even Dumbledore's got himself a new pair of robes." Fred said, pointing to where Dumbledore stood at the back of the crowd with the rest of the school's faculty, adorned in a very vibrant pair of purple robes, much brighter than his usual set, and Clary's eyes moved slowly around them, looking for any sign of the opposing schools.
"Aha!" Dumbledore called out, everyone's attention shooting to where the old man still stood, a proud smile now gracing his weathered features. "Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"
"Where?" several voices cried out, and Clary strained to try to make something out in the distance, though it was to no avail.
"There!" Vasantha exclaimed suddenly, pointing above the forest in the distance, where Clary's eyes finally caught sight of something very large moving very quickly towards the castle.
"It's a dragon!" a first year shrieked with a scream, her friends instantly beginning to try to calm her down.
"Don't be stupid," little Dennis Creevey called out. "It's a flying house!"
As it loomed closer, Clary could see that it was neither a dragon, nor a flying house. Instead, massive winged palomino horses soared through the sky, pulling behind them a powder blue horse-drawn carriage that would have given the size of the Burrow a run for its money. The horses dropped to the ground at a tremendous speed, hurtling towards where the Hogwarts students gathered around with a large crashing sound. As soon as the carriage came to a stop, a boy in powder blue robes jumped from the carriage, quickly unfolding a set of steps before a very large woman stepped out, descending to the ground beneath her.
With the exception of Hagrid, Clary had never seen anyone with a stature quite as hulking as the woman standing before them. The woman was incredibly beautiful, with an olive skinned complexion, very large dark eyes, and a pointed nose. She was dressed very elegantly in shining black robes, with a number of jewels adorning her throat and fingers. Dumbledore began to clap as the woman made her way through the crowd to greet him, the rest of the Hogwarts students following suit, though most continued to gaze in awe at the giant woman.
"My dear Madame Maxime," Dumbledore greeted. "Welcome to Hogwarts."
"Dumbly-dorr," Madame Maxime drawled in a very deep tone, adorned with a heavy French accent. "I 'ope I find you well?"
"In excellent form, I thank you." Dumbledore said.
"My pupils," said Madame Maxime, and Clary's eyes shifted back to where about a dozen boys and girls had exited the carriage, all of them huddling together, as they seemed to be shivering in their thin satin robes. They all gazed up at the Hogwarts castle, none of them seeming too eager to go inside, even if it would protect them from the chilly October air.
"Look at them," Lee chuckled, the three boys' gazes fixed on the French girls standing before them. All three of them wore awestruck smiles, causing Clary to roll her eyes at their expressions, even as their eyes followed after the Beauxbatons students while they made their way inside.
"French is the language of love, you know," George pointed out, but Clary elbowed him in the ribs, all conversation ceasing as an eerie sound began to hit her ears.
"Do you hear that?" she asked, the smiles quickly gone from the boys' faces as the sound became louder and much more apparent.
"Yeah," Vasantha said, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "It's almost like-"
"The lake!" Lee exclaimed, pointing off to their right. "Look at the lake!"
Clary followed where Lee had been pointing, her eyes studying where bubbles began to form on the surface of the lake, waves suddenly beginning to appear, even though the Black Lake had always been a still body of water. Suddenly, a long, black pole emerged from the surface of the deep, soon followed by rigging before a magnificent ship rose out of the water, the students' jaws dropping in awe.
"Would you look at that?" Fred mumbled under his breath, an awestruck look on his face as he watched the ship reach the lake's shore.
The Durmstrang group began to disembark, making their way up the hill to where the crowd eagerly awaited them. Clary stood on her tiptoes to see over Fred and George, catching sight of their headmaster leading the group behind him. The man was very tall and thin, with short white hair and a goatee to match. He smiled as he approached Dumbledore, revealing a set of yellow teeth, though his eyes remained quite cold.
"Dumbledore!" he called out. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"
"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore greeted.
"Dear old Hogwarts," Karkaroff said, admiring the view of the castle before him. "How good it is to be here, how good... Viktor, come along, into the warmth," he said, arm wrapping around the shoulders of a student behind him, though Clary couldn't quite make out the boy's face under his fur hat. "You don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold."
As the boy finally looked up, Clary's breath hitched in her throat, and she knew, wherever Angelina and Alicia were standing in the crowd, they were cursing Clary, as before them stood none other than Viktor Krum.
"Merlin, your intuition sucks." Vasantha muttered with a devilish grin as the Hogwarts students began to all file back into the castle, following behind the Durmstrang group.
While Clary herself was a fan of the Bulgarian Quidditch Team, she had no idea just how young Viktor Krum still was, that he was still in school. To her right, she could see her brother Ron eagerly following after Viktor, and chiding Hermione for not seeing what a huge deal it was for the boy to be at their school. Alicia and Angelina were with a group of other sixth year girls of all houses, frantically searching for something for the boy to autograph for them, and Clary walked past them, leading the group forward into the Great Hall to take their normal seats at the Gryffindor table.
"Can you believe this?" Clary asked as she watched the Durmstrang crowd take their seats at the Slytherin table, and the group from Beauxbatons sat down with the Ravenclaws. "Viktor Krum's actually here for the tournament!"
"'It's not like Viktor Krum's going to walk through that door tonight,' right?" Vasantha teased, and Clary shook her head as Dumbledore took his place up at the faculty table.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and, most particularly, guests," Dumbledore greeted, giving a welcoming smile to the new students. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."
The room was silent in response to his greeting, with the exception of one girl from Beauxbatons, who gave a rather rude laugh in response. Clary rolled her eyes, shooting the girl a glare before turning her attention back to Professor Dumbledore.
"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," Dumbledore continued, appearing not to have heard the girl's shrill laugh. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"
The tables suddenly filled with the plates of the feast, a new sort of dish appearing along with the standard Hogwarts dinner options. It appeared to be a sort of seafood dish, served like a stew and sitting next to a bowl of mashed potatoes. Clary studied the dish for a second, though she didn't recognize what it was.
"What the bloody hell is that?" George asked, also studying the dish.
"I don't know, but I'm not eating it." Lee said, reaching for the bowl of mashed potatoes instead.
"George!" Fred whisper yelled, nudging his brother and pointing up to the faculty table. "George, look! It's Bagman!"
Sure enough, Ludo Bagman had taken a seat at the faculty table next to Professor Karkaroff, while her brother Percy's boss, Bartemius Crouch, was now seated next to Madame Maxime. Fred and George's cheeks flushed bright red in anger, their eyes trained on the man before them.
"What about him?" Vasantha asked, placing a couple spoonfuls of the mystery stew dish onto her plate, and sniffing it hesitantly before proceeding to take a bite.
"He still hasn't paid us our winnings from the World Cup." George explained. "We've sent him so many letters, but he's been avoiding us."
"Yeah, well he can't avoid us forever." Fred said adamantly.
Their dinner conversation resumed mostly in silence, the air electric around them with the excited jitters of the students waiting in the room. Even at the faculty table, the professors seemed to be celebrating, though what the year had in store for all of them, nobody could quite say. As they finally finished eating, the platters and dishware vanished from view, and Dumbledore approached the podium once again.
"The moment has come," Dumbledore beamed. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to begin. 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."
"Ruddy snake, he is," Fred and George muttered as the crowd applauded the two men.
"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament." Dumbledore explained. "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts." he looked to the far end of the Great Hall, where Argus Filch stood lurking, watching everyone in the room with a filthy sneer. "Now then, if you please, Mr. Filch."
Filch marched down the center of the Great Hall, carrying an old wooden chest, encrusted with jewels of all colors and sizes. Filch placed the chest on the table standing next to Dumbledore, who turned back to the students with a proud expression.
"There will be three tasks," Dumbledore announced to the students, "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 his words, a chill seemed to spread through Clary's body, and she looked around, the rest of the room completely silent at Dumbledore's words. She couldn't resist sparing a glance at Cedric, who appeared to be hanging onto every word Dumbledore said. Of course, he was old enough to enter the tournament, having just turned seventeen, and Clary had no doubt he would want to participate if given the opportunity.
"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament." Dumbledore continued. "One 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 took out his wand from the pocket of his vibrant purple robes, tapping three times, and the lid to the chest slowly creaked open, revealing a large wooden cup inside, full of magnificent, white blue flames. Dumbledore pulled out the goblet, placing it carefully on top of the wooden chest, and the flames grew taller, casting the Great Hall in its bright blue light as Clary stared at it in awe, the flames completely mesmerizing.
"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of of parchment and drop it into the goblet." Dumbledore explained. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four 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. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.
"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," he continued, "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 the line. 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."
"An Age Line," Fred muttered, shaking his head with a devilish grin before staring at their other triplet. "We'll see about that, won't we, Georgie?"