Celeste woke with a start. She had a vivid dream of Wormtail talking to a Voldemort right before he killed a muggle man. Looking at her clock she could see it was exactly 1:30 am, 30 minutes before she needed to get up.
Mumbling to herself she got up to take a shower and get dressed.
After fifty minutes of waiting, they finally set off to the quidditch cup.
"Are we there yet?" Celeste asked after a couple of hours of walking.
"I think we are!" Her father said happily. "Now we just need to find the portkey and wait for the Weasleys."
Celeste was very excited to see her friends. She had hung out with Hermione in the Muggle world just two weeks before but hadn't gotten the chance to see Harry and Ron.
Celeste gave up looking after ten minutes and sat against a tree.
"You Slytherins really are lazy," Cedric said, walking over and pulling her up.
"I'm worried about my health 'Ric," Celeste huffed. "I'm about to get heatstroke."
"Stop your whining," Cedric teased. "I think I see the Weasleys coming over. Look, your boyfriend is looking for you."
"He's not my boyfriend," Celeste mumbled. "I don't even really like him anymore. We're just friends."
"Whatever floats your boat," Cedric said, laughing.
"Celle!" Hermione and Ginny squealed, running over and hugging her.
"I've missed you too," Celeste grinned. "I haven't seen you in forever Gin."
Pulling away she turned to Harry and Ron, who hugged her as well.
"You've gotten taller," Harry said.
"Yep!" Celeste said. "I'm 1.803 meters now!" (5'10)
"Merlin," Ron said. "You're taller than Harry now!"
"C'mon kids!" Artur Weasley called. "Yes, it's a minute off... We'd better get ready..." He looked around at Harry and Hermione. "You just need to touch the Portkey, that's all, a finger will do -"
With difficulty, owing to their bulky backpacks, the nine of them crowded around the old boot held out by Amos Diggory. They all stood there, in a tight circle, as a chill breeze swept over the hilltop.
Nobody spoke. It suddenly occurred to Harry how odd this would look if a muggle were to walk up here now... ten people, two of them grown men, clutching this manky old boot in the semidarkness, waiting...
"Three..." Mr Weasley muttered, one eye still on his watch, 'two... one..."
It happened immediately: Celeste felt as though a hook just behind her navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. Her feet left the ground; she could feel Cedric and Ron on either side of her, their shoulders banging into hers; they were all speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling colour; her forefinger was stuck to the boot as though it was pulling her magnetically onward and then - Her feet slammed into the ground; Ronstaggered into Harry and he fell over; the Portkey hit the ground near his head with a heavy thud. Celeste luckily was still standing since shed done it many times, but other than her and Cedric they were the only kids still standing.
"Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill," said a voice
They had arrived on what appeared to be a deserted stretch of the misty moor. In front of them was a pair of tired and Gump-looking wizards, one of whom was holding a large gold watch, the other a thick roll of parchment and a quill. Both were dressed as Muggles.
"Morning, Basil," Mr Weasley said, picking up the boot and handing it to the kilted wizard, who threw it into a large box of used Portkeys beside him; Celeste could see an old newspaper, an empty drinks can, and a punctured football.
"Hello there, Artur," Basil said wearily. "Not on duty, eh? It's all right for some ... we've been here all night ... you'd better get out of the way, we've got a big party coming from the Black Forest at five fifteen. Hang on, I'll find your campsite ... Weasley ... Weasley ..." He consulted his parchment list. "About a quarter of a mile's walk over there, the first field you come to. Site manager's called Mr ROberts. Diggory ... second field ... ask for Mr Payne."
They bid their goodbyes and split ways. After walking for another 30 minutes the Diggorys finally got to their tent.
THE DARK MARK
The quidditch game was the best Celeste had ever gone to by far.
"Great game!" Cedric said happily when they got to their tent.
"Yeah," Celeste said. "I didn't get very good sleep last night so I think I'm going to go to sleep. What time are we leaving tomorrow?"
"I suppose we can leave at noon," Her father said, checking his watch. "Goodnight sweetie."
Celeste felt it had only been a few seconds that she had gotten in her bed when her father shook her awake.
"Get up! Celeste - Cedric - come on now, get up, this is urgent!"
Dimly, she could tell that something was wrong. The noises in the campsite had changed. The singing had stopped. She could hear screams and the sound of people running. She slipped down from the bunk and reached for her clothes, but her father, who had pulled on his jeans over his own pyjamas, said, "No time, Celeste - just grab a jacket and get outside - quickly!"
Celeste did as she was told and hurried out of the tent, Cedric at her heels. By the light of the few fires that were still burning, she could see people running away into the woods, fleeing something that was moving across the field toward them, something that was emitting odd flashes of light and noises like gunfire.
Loud jeering, roars of laughter, and drunken yells were drifting toward them; then came a burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene. A crowd of wizards, tightly packed and moving together with wands pointing straight upward, was marching slowly across the field. Celeste squinted at them... They didn't seem to have faces... Then he realized that their heads were hooded and their faces masked. High above them, floating along in midair, two struggling figures were being contorted into grotesque shapes. It was as though the masked wizards on the ground were puppeteers, and the people above them were marionettes operated by invisible strings that rose from the wands into the air.
The floating people were suddenly illuminated as they passed over a burning tent and Celeste recognized one of them: Mr Payne, the campsite manager. The other one looked as though they might be his wife. One of the marchers below flipped Mrs Payne upside down with his wand; her nightdress fell to reveal voluminous drawers and she struggled to cover herself up as the crowd below her screeched and hooted with glee.
"That's sick," Cedric muttered, turning away from it. "That is really sick..."
Their father came out behind them. "I'm going to help the Ministry!" he shouted over all the noise, rolling up his own sleeves. "You lot - get into the woods, and stick together. I'll come and fetch you when we've sorted this out!"
"C'mon," Cedric said, grabbing Celeste's hand and pulling her towards the woods.
The path was very crowded. Many people were screaming and running, bumping into Celeste on their way. She could feel Cedric's grip loosen from al the people knocking into them.
"Cedric," Celeste yelled over the crowd. "where are you?"
No answer. Celeste became worried; if there were Death Eaters around she did not want to be alone with strangers.
A huddle of teenagers in pyjamas was arguing vociferously a little way along the path. When they saw Celeste, a girl with thick curly hair turned and said quickly,
"Oü est Madame Maxime? Nous l'avons perdue -"
"Je ne sais pas qui elle est, desole. Avez-vous vu un grand garcon en jaune?" Celeste said fast. Thank god for the french lessons her mother made them take.
"Non, desole. Tu vas aux beauxbatons?"
"Non, Hogwarts. Je dois partir." Celeste said, turning.
"Cedric?" Celeste said, running farther in the woods. "Cedric--"
"Watch where you're going Mudblood-- oh, hey Celeste."
"Draco!" Celeste said, hugging him. "I can't find Cedric and there are bloody death eaters out there!"
"Your brother is fine, he's a couple of feet ahead of us. We were worried about you." Draco said.
"Glad to know," Celeste said, calming down. "Is your whole family here?"
"Father is off doing something, Mum and Julian are over with Cedric," Draco said, beckoning her to follow.
"Oh sweetheart, you're okay! I'm so glad!" Mrs Malfoy said, hugging her.
HOGWARTS EXPRESS
"D'you know what the Dress robes were for?" Celeste asked Melody as they sat down in a compartment with Daphne, Theo, Blaise, Draco, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle.
"Don't you know?" Daphne said excitedly, petting her cat Bella. "The Triwizard tournament is coming to Hogwarts! There's a ball happening near Christmas, my parents told me all about it."
'Don't people die in it?" Celeste said shocked.
"Yeah, but if you win you get mad money," Blaise said. "It sounds wicked."
Pansy rolled her eyes. "You don't need any more money Zabini."
"That's poor people mentality," Blaise said, rolling his eyes. "Weasley mentality."
"I could've sworn you winked at the girl Weasley when we got on the train," Theo said. "Seems like you hopped on the ginger train."
"I wink at everyone," Blaise said, rolling his eyes.
***
By the time they got into the Great Hall, they were soaked.
"Bloody hell," Celeste muttered, doing warming spells over her and her friends.
"Can they start the Sorting already," Daphne said. "I'm tired."
Professor McGonagall was leading a long line of first years up to the top of the Hall. They appeared to have swum across the lake rather than sailed. All of them were shivering with a combination of cold and nerves as they filed along with the staff table and came to a halt in a line facing the rest of the school.
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 along tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into a song.
"I hate when it sings," Melody said once the 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.
"Baddock, Malcolm!"
"SLYTHERIN!"
Celeste, as well as the other Slytherins, cheered loudly for him as he sat.
"Branstone, Eleanor!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Cauldwell, Owen!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Creevey, Dennis!"
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. About twice as tall as a normal man, and at least three times as broad, Hagrid, with his long, wild, tangled black hair and beard, looked slightly alarming – a misleading impression, for Harry, Ron, Celeste, and Hermione knew Hagrid to possess a very kind nature. 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.
"Emma Dobbs!"
"Hufflepuff!"
The Sorting finally finished with the last kid being Hufflepuff. Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and the stool and carried them away.
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!"Theo and Blaise said loudly as the empty dishes filled magically before their eyes. The ghosts above them watched mournfully as people loaded their own plates.
Soon the food and puddings 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-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and EverBashing 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. 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."
"What?" Celeste gasped.
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 mane of grizzled, dark grey 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.
The lightning had thrown the man's face into sharp relief, and it was a face unlike any Celeste 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 Harry couldn't hear. He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head unsmilingly 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 grey 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 chapped except Dumbledore 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.
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 honour 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 Weasley 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 a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun 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. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."
"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger.
"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."
"I'm going for it!" Julian Malfoy hissed down the table, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of even more glory and riches. He was not the only person who seemed to be visualizing himself as the Hogwarts champion. At every House table, Celeste could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore or else whispering fervently to their neighbours. But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more.
"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This" — Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious - "is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred's and George's mutinous faces. "I, therefore, beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen.
"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. 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 champion 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.
"More people got sorted into Hufflepuff," Celeste could hear Cedric say to Julian. "You owe me 3 Galleons."
"Just wait till next year," Julian said, giving the money to him. "I'm gonna win."