UNTOLD | D.M (UNRAVEL BOOK 3)

[ 09 ]

After the long eventful evening, the plates and dishes of food on the tables vanished instantly with a clap of Dumbledore's hand. The Hogwarts Headmaster asked for the student's attention when Mr Bartemius Crouch stood in the middle of the platform where the golden pointed chest was at. He shakes his legs as he glanced nervously at the many pair of eyes staring back at him, awaiting his words. Taking a deep breath, he announced, "After due consideration, the Ministry has concluded that, for their own safety— no student under the age of 17... Shall be allowed to put forth their name for the Triwizard Tournament." 

With one speech from the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, the whole hall erupted with boos, mainly from those aged 16 and below, clearly upset about the new declared rule.

"WHAT?! NO!"

"THAT'S NOT FAIR!"

"WHY NOT! LET US ENTER TOO!"

"This decision is final!" says Mr Crouch, gulping at the sight of the agitated students, flustered at the dismay of the students, he cast a glance to Dumbledore for help.

"THAT'S RUBBISH!" Fred and George yells, vexed with the unfairness. Aine exchanged gazes with Ginny, who simply shrugged and rolled her eyes. They figured that there would be such an implicated rule since the students of Beauxbaton and Durmstrang were clearly much older than them both, and it would only be fitting if they were all 17 years old and above. Otherwise, why would they have come?

"BOOOO!!!!" 

Students stirred around in annoyance, frustration and jealously, fueling the rage of not being able to enter, that Mr Crouch took a step back and exhaled loudly. Dumbledore quickly bellowed loudly, "SILENCE!" he darted to the students who were shouting and whining, causing the disruption to an abrupt halt before pointing his wand to the tip of the golden chest. Aine's eyes widened at the sight— the gold chest slowly peeling downwards, almost as if like metal that was melting and revealed a rather big wooden cup with strange runes engraved at the rim of the goblet. Ginny turned back to her and smirked at the cup before her mouth hung open, a beautiful blue-white flames emerged from the cup, dancing gracefully as it crackles.

"The Goblet of Fire." Dumbledore introduces, "Anyone wishing to submit themselves to the tournament needs to only write their name upon a piece of parchment, and throw it in the flame before this hour on Thursday night." The silent hall only meant that everyone was listening to him intensely, especially those of age, debating internally about whether or not they should enter. "Do not do so lightly! If chosen, there's no turning back." Dumbledore warns, his usual happy face was now frowning, making sure his words were heeded properly.  

"As from this moment, the Triwizard Tournament has begun," he finishes, sending everyone looking rather perplexed, and also a sudden urge of heated excitement. 

~

In the next couple of days, Hogwarts was bustling with even more students now, with the addition of the two schools that were joining them for the tournament, they too had merged classes with the seventh years' students as a form of an exchange programme. Today, Aine would be having her first Defense Against the Dark Arts class, ever since her last one with Remus Lupin who had resigned. Frankly speaking, she was already missing his classes because they were light, fun but also filled with knowledge and practical lessons. 

Her breath hitched as she looks to the new professor of the class, his shoulders rising up and down swiftly as he scribbles harshly onto the board, his voice booming the awkwardly tensed classroom, "Alastor Moody. Ex-Auror," he introduces himself, slamming the chalk against the blackboard, and the sound of rough chalk gliding across the surface aggressively, making almost everyone hold their breaths.