Chapter - 45 : Hope on the Horizon part - 2
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Dumbledore's words were cut off when the doors of the Great Hall were thrown open with enormous force, and banged loudly against the stone wall. Everyone turned their attention to the entrance, where a thick, somewhat squat man leaning upon a long staff, and shrouded in a black traveling cloak appeared. The strange man lowered his hood and shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, revealing his somewhat disfigured face and missing eye. In its place was an electric blue prosthetic, that, without blinking, was rolling up, down, side to side, and even rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all that could be seen was whiteness.
The man limped down the aisle between the house tables, his carved wooden leg made a dull clunk against the stone floor with every other step. It was a while before he reached the staff table, where he was greeted with a warm handshake and a softly spoken inquiry from Dumbledore, before he settled down in a seat at the end of the table and began eating from a platter of leftover sausages, indifferent to the attention focused on him.
"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Dumbledore said brightly. "Professor Moody."
No one but Dumbledore and Hagrid applauded for the newly appointed Defense professor, but Moody didn't seem at all concerned by the less than warm welcome.
Dumbledore cleared his throat and smiled at the students before him, most of whom were still watching Moody warily. "As I was saying," he said, "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."
Surprised exclamations echoed throughout the hall, but Dumbledore easily silenced them with another simple clearing of his throat. Once silence once again reigned, he explained the details of the Triwizard Tournament to all of those who were unfamiliar with it.
"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."
All along the hall, students began whispering eagerly to each other, excited by the prospect of winning such an exorbitant amount of money.
"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," Dumbledore continued over the excited whispers, "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, "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. 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!"
The months leading up to the arrival of the representatives for the foreign schools weren't much different than any other normal school term; the students attended classes, complained about certain professors outside of their classrooms, and spent most of their free time bemoaning the amount of homework they'd been saddled with instead of actually doing said homework. There was a bit of excitement, not all of it good, when Moody was given permission to demonstrate the Unforgivable curses to his classes, but other than that, things remained normal, some would even say boring.
Things, however, picked up after the delegations for both Beauxbatons and Durmstrang arrived; the Beauxbatons students and their headmistress in a large flying carriage drawn by a dozen winged horses the size of elephants, and the Durmstrang delegation in an impressive although slightly skeletal looking ship that rose straight from the depths of the Black Lake.
Ron discovered that some famous Quidditch star by the name of Viktor Krum was among the Durmstrang students, prompting such avid fanboyish tendencies that eventually even mild tempered Neville told him to stuff it, Fred, George, and Lee Jordan attempted to cross Dumbledore's age line and ended up with beards almost as long as the Headmaster's, and, what was more, Hagrid had apparently fallen hard for the Beauxbatons' headmistress, Madame Maxime. But nothing could compare to the events on Halloween night, a night that Harry was beginning to believe was cursed.
The fantastic Halloween feast had just ended and Dumbledore stood from his seat and smiled down at the students. "Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," he said, "I estimate that it requires a few more minutes until it's ready.
"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 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.
Silence reigned for several long, tense minutes as everyone waited, then finally the flames inside of the goblet turned a sudden blood red and spat out a slip of slightly burnt parchment. Dumbledore caught the parchment with ease and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames.
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Loving the story so far? There's a whole world of magic and mystery waiting for you with over 85+ chapters still to come! By supporting my Patreon.
You not only get early access to new chapters but also exclusive content, behind-the-scenes insights, and special perks just for fans like you.
Join us on this enchanted journey and help shape the future of the tale. Your support makes all the difference—discover more and become part of the adventure today!
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(P).(A).(T).(R).(E).(O).(N)
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