chapter fifteen : the Goblet of Fire
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"I don't believe it!" June could hear Ron say in a stunned voice, as the Hogwarts students filed back up the steps behind the party from Durmstrang. "Krum, Harry! Viktor Krum!"
"For heaven's sake, Ron, he's only a Quidditch player," Hermione said, rather annoyed, making June smile.
"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, June 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?"
Juniper rolled her eyes at this.
"I'm getting his autograph if I can," Ron said, "you haven't got a quill, have you, Harry?"
"Nope, they're upstairs in my bag," Harry said.
June made her way through the Entrance Hall, passing the Durmstrang students before seeing Timothée who was standing in the Great Hall together with the other Beauxbatons students. Madame Maxime was talking to Dumbledore a couple feet away.
"Timothée!" June exclaimed, running towards her friend.
He turned around and caught her, laughing.
"You're at Hogwarts!" June exclaimed.
"I'm at Hogwarts!" Timothée replied, spinning her around.
"I can't believe it," she said, as he put her down again. "I can finally show you around!"
"Cam's so jealous," Timothée said, laughing. "She's been wanting to come to Hogwarts for ages."
"Mr Delacour, who is zis?" a voice came and they turned around to see Madame Maxime staring at them.
"This is my mother's goddaughter, Juniper Black," Timothée said with a smile, while he slung an arm around June's shoulder.
"You might know her mother, Olympe," Professor Dumbledore said, his blue eyes twinkling. "Does the name Lyra Potter ring a bell?"
Madame Maxime looked horrified.
"You are 'er daughter?" she asked, her voice raising a couple of octaves. "Your mother caused a lot of trouble while she was at Beauxbatons."
Juniper grinned sheepishly.
"Come now, Olympe," Professor Dumbledore said. "Let's not compare the children to their parents. Miss Black is an excellent student and I'm sure she'll be a fine Head Girl next year." June's eyes widened. "Just don't tell anyone I said that," he added, amusingly.
Timothée grinned. "Congrats, June!"
"Thank you, Timmy."
Timothée rolled his eyes at his nickname. "You do know I'm six months older than you, don't you?"
June laughed. "Yes, anyways, you want to sit with us? I mean, everyone is welcome," she added more loudly towards the rest of the students of Beauxbatons.
"Zat is very kind of you," a girl with silver blond hair said, smiling at her.
"Right," Timothée said, "June, this is Fleur, my cousin. Fleur this is Juniper Black, my mom's goddaughter."
"It is nice to meet you, Juniper," Fleur said, as they shook each other's hands. "Timothée told me all about you."
"You, too, Fleur, and please, my friends call me June."
The Beauxbatons students followed June towards the Gryffindor table and sat down next to Angelina, Alicia, George, Fred and Lee, who were all watching them with interest.
"Guys, this is Timothée and his cousin Fleur," June told them. "Timothée, Fleur, this is Angelina, Alicia, Fred, George and Lee."
The boys didn't reply as they stared with open mouth at Fleur. June smacked them on the back of their head.
"Guys!"
She then turned to Fleur, who didn't seem to be surprised by their behavior at all.
"Sorry about that, they lack manners."
"It is all right," Fleur said, "I'm used to it."
Juniper frowned. "I'm sorry to hear that."
Fleur looked at her, really looked at her, before giving her a sincere smile. Although she had heard quite a bit about her from Timothée and Camille, the black haired girl was kinder than she'd expected.
"Zank you, June."
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts — most particularly — guests," Dumbledore said, beaming around at the foreign 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 Tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," Dumbledore said. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"
He sat down, and June saw Karkaroff lean forward at once and engage him in conversation.
The dishes 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 June had ever seen, including several that were definitely foreign.
"This is amazing!" Timothée exclaimed, his green eyes dashing from one dish to the other. "Is it always like this?"
"They've added extra dishes," June said, as she was deciding what thing to taste first. "What's that?" she added, pointing at a large dish of some sort of shellfish stew that stood beside a large steak-and-kidney pudding."
"Bouillabaisse," Timothée said. "It's Fleur's favorite. I'm positive you'll like it."
The Great Hall seemed somehow much more crowded than usual, June noticed, as she helped herself to some Bouillabaisse, 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. Now that they had removed their furs, the Durmstrang students were revealed to be wearing robes of a deep, blood red.
"June, can you pass ze Bouillabaisse, please?" Fleur asked the black haired.
"Sure," June replied, taking the dish and handing it to her.
"Zank you."
"Hey, June," Fred said, "look who arrived!"
Juniper followed his gaze towards the staff table. The two seats who had been empty at the start of the feast, had just filled. Ludo Bagman was now sitting on Professor Karkaroff's other side, while Mr Crouch was next to Madame Maxime.
"What are they doing here?" June said in surprise.
"They organized the Triwizard Tournamemt, didn't they?" George said. "I suppose they wanted to be here to see it start."
When the second course arrived, they had noticed a number of unfamiliar puddings, too. Fred examined an odd sort of pale blancmange closely.
Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again. A pleasant sort of tention seemed to fill the Hall now. June felt a slight thrill of excitement, wondering what was coming. Fred and George were leaning forwards, staring at Dumbledore with great concentration.
"The moment has come," Dumbledore said, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. "The Triwizard Tournamemt is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket —"
"The what?" Angelina muttered.
Alicia shrugged.
"— just to clarify the procedure which we will be following this year. But firstly, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magic Co-operation" — there was a smattering of polite applause — "and Mr Ludo Bagman, Head of 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 likeable. He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand. Bartemius Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced. Remembering him in his neat suit at the Quidditch World Cup, June thought he looked strange in wizard's robes. His toothbrush moustache and severe parting looked very odd next to Dumbledore's long white hair and beard.
"Mr Bagman and Mr Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournamemt," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime on the panel which 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; Dennis Creevey actually stood on his chair to see it properly, but, being so tiny, his head hardly rose above anyone else's.
"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 chest 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 tests the champions in many different ways . . . their magical prowess — their daring — their powers of seduction — 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, three champions compete in the Tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champions 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."
Dumbeldore 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 and school 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, Hallowe'en, the Goblet will return the names of the three it has judges 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 students yields to temptation," Dumbledore said, "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.
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 champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are whole-heartedly prepared to play, before you drop your name into the Goblet. Now, I think it's time for bed. Goodnight to you all."
"An Age Line!" Fred said, his eyes glinting, as they all made their way across the Hall to the doors into the Entrance Hall. "Well, that should be fooled by an Ageing Potion, shouldn't it? And once your name's in that Goblet, you're laughing — it can't tell whether you're seventeen or not!"
"But I don't think anyone under seventeen will stand a chance," Hermione said, frowning, "we just haven't learnt enough . . ."
"Speak for yourself," George said shortly. "You'll try and get in, won't you, Harry?"
"He's not," June said, placing her hands on Harry's shoulder. "He's attracting too much danger as it is."
Harry looked up at her. "Wish I could say that was wrong."
"Where is he?" Ron said, who wasn't listening to a word of the conversation, but looking through the crowd to see what had become of Krum. "Dumbledore didn't say where the Durmstrang people are sleeping, did he?"
But his query was answered almost instantly; they were level with the Slytherin table now, and Karkaroff had just bustled up to his students.
"Back to the ship, then," he was saying. "Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?"
June saw Krum shake his head as he pulled his furs back on.
"Professor, I vould like some vine," one of the other Durmstrang boys said hopefully.
"I wasn't offering it to you, Poliakoff," Professor Karkaroff snapped, his warmly paternal air vanishing in an instant. "I notice you have dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting boy —"
Karkaroff turned and led his students towards the doors, reaching them exactly the same moment as June and her friends. Harry and June stopped to let him walk through first.
"Thank you," Karkaroff said carelessly, glancing at them.
And then Karkaroff froze. He turned his head back to Harry, 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. Out of the corner of my eye, June saw comprehension dawn on a few of their faces. The boy with food all down his front nudged the girl next to him and pointed openly at Harry's forehead.
"Is there a problem?" Juniper asked boldly, crossing her arms and staring at the Durmstrang Headmaster.
His dark eyes flashed towards her, and for a moment, he looked surprised. However, that quickly changed when a growling voice behind her said, "Yeah, that's Harry Potter and Juniper Black."
Professor Karkaroff spun around. Mad-Eye Moody was standing there, leaning heavily on his staff, his magical eye glaring unblinkingly at the Durmstrang Headmaster.
The color drained from from Karkaroff's face as June watched. A terrible look of mingled fury and fear came over his face.
"You!" he said, staring at Moody as though unsure he was really seeing him.
"Me," Moody said grimly. "And unless you've got anything to say to Potter or Black, Karkaroff, 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 each other's shoulders to see what was causing the hold-up.
Without another word, Professor Karkaroff swept his students away with him. Moody watched him out of sight, his magical eye fixed upon his back, a look of intense dislike upon his mutilated face.
"Are you going to enter?" Timothée asked June once they were in the Entrance Hall. "You're turning seventeen tomorrow after all. Merlin, we can finally celebrate your birthday together!"
"I'm planning to," June said, smiling.
Timothée smiled back before giving me a short hug. "I'll see you tomorrow, June. Sleep well."
"You too, Timmy."
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Published 07.12.2020
I hope you enjoyed it & tell me what you think of it!
Timothée is a real smoll bean 🥺 I love him!!
This chapter gave me some Stranger Things vibes (season three)
Next up: June's birthday!!
Ps: for you who don't know, I'm planning on writing a prequel to this story (the story of how Lyra met Regulus). I'll publish a preview soon but I won't start writing it until I'm done with some of my other fanfics. Anyway I'll let you know when it'll be published!
Have a nice day/night!