II. A Top-Up and Champions Selected

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You wake up, and see a chest that you don't recognise, before hopping out from underneath your sheets and opening the chest, seeing robes that you only assume came with the role, as well as a letter.

To Mr Rhaegal Grindelwald,
I hope this letter finds you with good confidence. You have been nominated by myself as the Head of Security for the Tournament based upon your school performance, and thus this is the uniform that you'll be required to wear for the remainder of the Triwizard Tournament. Of course, its your responsibility to ensure the safety of both the champions and the students throughout the event, to reduce a repeat of the last Triwizard Tournament. Myself and Dumbledore wish to speak with you after breakfast at 10:00 sharp.
Many thanks, and good luck,
Bartemius Crouch Sr.

Sighing, you place the letter onto your desk, and pull the uniform out of the chest, internally downcast as you realise that the uniform mimicks those found in the military. Regardless, though, you make sure that your door is locked, before stripping down and putting the uniform on.

Satisfied, you open the door, and sit down on one of the ottomans in the common room, waiting for Luna to wake up

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Satisfied, you open the door, and sit down on one of the ottomans in the common room, waiting for Luna to wake up.

"Hey Grindelwald, why are you dressed like Prince Charles?" You hear snickering, and turn to your left, seeing Roger Davies and his gang on the boys dorm stairwell.

"Well, Davies, if you had put the effort into your grades, and weren't as much of a prick as you are, then perhaps you'd have been considered to be part of the official Triwizard governing body." You noticed a vein bulge in his neck, and curse, under your breath, realising what the time was. With that, you run out of the common room to Dumbledore's office, staring down the eagle that stood guard of the entrance.

"Sherbet lemons." You say, and the staircase uncoils itself from beneath the floor. Hurriedly, you ascend the stairs, missing out one step every so often, before standing in front of Dumbledore's desk.  The phoenix perks up from its pedestal, and flys towards you, settling himself on your shoulder, chirping into your ear.

"Yeah, I missed you to." Fawkes flies back to his perch, and you turn around, greeted by the familiar feeling of Dumbledore's arms tightly hugging you.

"Professor, Mr Crouch." you greet the two older men, Barty Crouch Sr resting on one of many office chairs. 

"Have a seat, Rhaegal. Toast or waffles?" Dumbledore asks you. You chuckle to yourself, knowing that Dumbledore assumed you hadn't eaten.

"Toast please, with raspberry jam if you have some to spare." The elderly professor smiles at you, retreating far back into the office. You take a seat next to Mr Crouch, who promply reaches for a cup of tea on the table beside him

"So, Mr Grindelwald, what have you thought of the schools visitors so far? I heard that many of the Beauxbatons girls had eyes for you last night."

You lips curl into a slight smirk. "From what I've heard, that seems to be true. I spoke to one of them last night, Fleur Delacour. She seems flustered every time she asked me a question. I know that the Delacour's are part Veela, but for some reason, I don't seem to be affected by this."

"And the Durmstrangs?"

"Don't talk to much. They remind me of Mika Hakkinen, actually. Good at what they do, but quite reserved and secretive."

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