When Anne had eaten her fill, Dumbledore stood up once more. The buzzing conversation in the Great Hall immediately ceased, leaving only the sound of the howling wind and pounding rain outside.
"Well then!" Dumbledore beamed at the students. "Now that our bellies are full, I must once again ask for your attention. I have a few announcements to make."
"Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to inform you all that several new items have been added to the list of prohibited objects inside the castle this year. These include Screaming Yo-Yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Jinxing Boomerangs. The full list now contains roughly four hundred and thirty-seven banned items, which can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office should anyone be curious enough to check."
He continued, "As always, I must remind everyone that the Forbidden Forest is strictly off-limits to students. And no student below third year may visit the village of Hogsmeade."
"I also regret to inform you that there will be no House Quidditch Cup this year."
"What?" came cries of disbelief from many students.
"This is due to a major event beginning in October," Dumbledore explained. "It will last for the entire school year and will require a great deal of our staff's time and energy, but I assure you, it will bring great excitement as well. I'm delighted to announce that this year, at Hogwarts, "
A deafening clap of thunder interrupted him, and the doors to the Great Hall burst open with a bang.
A man stood in the doorway, leaning on a long staff and wrapped in a dark traveling cloak. Every head turned toward the stranger just as a jagged bolt of lightning streaked across the enchanted ceiling.
The flash illuminated his face, and gasps swept the hall. Every inch of his skin seemed battered and scarred. His mouth was twisted into a crooked gash, and where his nose should have protruded, there was only a sunken space. But the most unnerving thing about the man was his eyes.
One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large and round like a coin, electric blue, and constantly in motion, darting around in every direction, independent of the other. At one point, the blue eye even rolled backward into his head, leaving only the white showing.
The stranger limped toward Dumbledore. He extended a hand, which was as scarred as his face. Dumbledore shook it and exchanged a few quiet words with him, Harry couldn't make out what they said. Dumbledore seemed to ask something, to which the man shook his head grimly and muttered a reply. Dumbledore nodded and gestured for him to sit in the empty seat to his right.
The man sat down, shook his head as if to clear it, and swept his greying hair away from his face. Then he reached for a plate of sausages, sniffed them with his half-missing nose, and began eating with a small knife he pulled from his coat pocket, stabbing it into one end of a sausage. His normal eye focused on the food, but the blue one continued spinning, scanning the hall and its occupants with eerie restlessness.
"Allow me to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Dumbledore said cheerfully, breaking the silence. "Professor Moody."
"Moody? No way, it's him?" whispers rippled across the Slytherin table.
"I heard he's an old friend of Professor Dumbledore's," said Fanny, casting a glance at Moody. "They say he put half of Azkaban's inmates behind bars. He was a top Auror."
"Huh," Anne murmured. "If he's that good, maybe we'll actually learn something useful in Defense this year."
Fanny shrugged nervously. "I'm not sure… My dad says that after Moody retired… well, he got kind of paranoid."
Dumbledore cleared his throat.
"As I was saying," he smiled at the still-whispering students who hadn't stopped staring at Mad-Eye Moody, "we are very honored to be hosting a truly exciting event over the coming months. This event has not been held for over a century. I am pleased to announce that the Triwizard Tournament will take place at Hogwarts this year."
"You're kidding!" Fred Weasley blurted out.
The tense atmosphere that had gripped the Great Hall since Moody's arrival vanished in a wave of laughter. Even Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.
"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said. "But since you mention jokes, I did hear a good one recently, about a troll, a banshee, and a leprechaun who all walk into a bar…"
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat sharply.
"Ah, yes, perhaps not the best time," Dumbledore said, smiling. "Where was I? Ah, yes, the Triwizard Tournament. Some of you may not be familiar with the details, so I'll explain briefly. If you already know, feel free to let your minds wander for a moment."
"The Triwizard Tournament was established over seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest wizarding schools in Europe: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. Each school selects one champion, and those three champions compete in three magical challenges. The tournament used to be held every five years, with the schools taking turns as host. It was considered a fantastic way for young witches and wizards from different countries to build friendships. Unfortunately, it was discontinued due to… excessive fatalities."
Excited whispers and murmurs filled the hall.
"Over the centuries, there have been several attempts to revive the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "but none were successful. However, the Department of International Magical Cooperation and the Department of Magical Games and Sports now believe the time is right to try again. This summer, great efforts were made to ensure the safety of the champions."
"In October, the heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will arrive with their carefully selected candidates. The champion selection ceremony will take place on Halloween. A neutral judge will determine which students are best suited to represent their schools in the competition. The winning champion will not only bring glory to their school but also receive a prize of one thousand Galleons."
The hall erupted in noise again. Students from all four Houses began whispering eagerly, many of them now eyeing the possibility of entering.
But Dumbledore raised his hand once more, and silence returned.
"I know many of you are eager to win glory for Hogwarts," he said, "but both the participating schools and the Ministry have agreed to impose a strict age limit. Only students who are seventeen or older may submit their names for consideration. We believe, " Dumbledore raised his voice slightly as several students began muttering indignantly.
"We believe this is necessary, because the tasks remain extremely challenging and dangerous. No matter how many precautions we take, they are not suitable for younger students. I personally will ensure that no underage student tricks the impartial judge into selecting them." His eyes swept across a number of defiant-looking faces, and his blue eye flashed meaningfully. "So, if you're not yet seventeen, I urge you not to waste your time applying."
"Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be staying with us for most of the school year. I know that while our international guests are here, you will show them kindness and hospitality, and once our Hogwarts champion is chosen, I trust you will give them your full support. Now then, it's getting late, and I expect everyone to be alert and well-rested for classes tomorrow. Off to bed!"
Dumbledore sat down and turned to speak with Moody. The Hall was soon filled with the clatter and chatter of students rising from their seats and heading toward the double doors.
"Anne, who do you think the impartial judge is going to be?" Fanny asked as they walked side by side.
Anne yawned and replied indifferently, "No idea. Maybe Dumbledore himself? Or maybe the heads of all three schools together? Doesn't really matter to us anyway… We're not eligible. We'll just enjoy the show. Let's get back, I'm exhausted…"
The storm had passed by morning, though the enchanted ceiling above the Great Hall still reflected gloomy clouds. On the first day of term, Anne was seated at the long table, checking her schedule.
Fanny leaned in to peek. "Anne, is something wrong with your timetable?"
"Moody's Defense Against the Dark Arts class is on Thursday… with Gryffindor," Anne said, scanning the list.
Fanny checked hers too and nodded. "Yep, same here."
"That makes four classes this year that we share with Gryffindor… Care of Magical Creatures, History of Magic, Defense, and Potions. That's four out of seven required classes. What are the odds?"
"Maybe we're just destined to cross paths," Fanny smiled. "We have Care of Magical Creatures together this afternoon…"
Hagrid stood outside his hut, one hand gripping the collar of his enormous boarhound, Fang. At his feet were several open wooden crates. Fang was whining and straining at the collar, clearly eager to investigate what was inside. As Anne and Fanny approached, they could hear a strange buzzing sound mixed with the occasional soft pop.
"Good morning!" Hagrid greeted the class. "Today we're taking care of a magical creature none of you have seen before, you won't want to miss this: Blast-Ended Skrewts!"
He gestured at the crates. Everyone leaned forward to get a better look.
"Ew!" Pansy shrieked and jumped back. She wasn't the only one. Several Gryffindor girls also backed away.
The Skrewts looked like deformed, shell-less lobsters, grayish-white, slimy, and terrifying. Dozens of legs stuck out at odd angles, and it was impossible to tell where their heads were. There were probably about a hundred per crate, each about six inches long, squirming over each other and slamming into the crate walls. They gave off a strong stench of rotting seafood. Occasionally, one would spark at the tail and rocket forward with a small bang.
"Just hatched!" Hagrid said proudly. "You lot will raise them yourselves, it'll be a big project!"
"Why would we want to raise those?" drawled Malfoy coolly. He stood a few steps away, with Crabbe and Goyle snickering behind him.
Everyone turned to Hagrid. For a moment, he looked stumped.
"I mean, what do they do?" Malfoy asked. "What use are they?"
Hagrid opened his mouth, clearly thinking hard. After a moment, he said gruffly, "That's next lesson, Malfoy. Today you're just feeding them. Try a few different things, I've got ant eggs, frog livers, and fireflies. See what they fancy."
Anne wrinkled her nose at the glistening, slimy frog livers and the piles of ant eggs beside the crates. She and Fanny exchanged a look and stepped aside to let the Gryffindors go first.
"Ow!" Ten minutes later, Dean Thomas yelped, "It hurt me!"
Hagrid rushed over, looking worried.
"I think its tail exploded!" Dean said angrily, showing Hagrid a burn on his hand.
Anne pulled Fanny further back.
"Ah, yes, they can do that sometimes," Hagrid nodded.
"Gross!" Lavender moaned. "Seriously, Hagrid, what are those sharp things on its back?"
"Ah, some of them have spines," Hagrid said excitedly (Lavender yanked her hand back). "I reckon those are the males… females have suction pads on their bellies. I think they might be bloodsuckers."
"Oh, now I see why we're keeping them alive," Malfoy said sarcastically. "They burn, sting, and bite. Who wouldn't want one as a pet?"
"Just because they're ugly doesn't mean they're useless," Hermione snapped. "Dragon's blood has magical properties too, but would you keep a dragon as a pet?"
Most of the Gryffindors laughed in support. Malfoy sneered and looked away. An hour later, the bell rang.
Anne gratefully dumped the piece of frog liver she was holding into the crate and sighed with relief. She and Fanny walked quickly back to the castle, Anne pulling tissues from her bag to wipe her hands.
"You think Skrewts might turn out to have some magical properties after all?" Fanny asked.
Anne tossed the tissue into a stone bin, which swallowed it with a gulp. "Fanny, you didn't seriously believe Hermione just now, did you? She was only trying to shut Malfoy up. Honestly, he's right for once. I bet the Skrewts are just some dangerous new species Hagrid cobbled together himself…"
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