"The officials at the Ministry of Magic have nothing but dung for brains," Moody fumed like an angry youth, railing against the Ministry. "At a time like this, they should be tracking down Death Eaters."
"All they care about is keeping their positions."
Moody was delighted that Wes shared his views, and quickly grew fond of him. Though Moody's magical power was not as deep as Wes Elwin's, his combat experience was unmatched, and he shared many valuable fighting techniques.
"When facing Dark wizards, you can't show mercy. They won't give you a second chance."
Moody's knowledge of the Dark Arts ran deep, and he wasn't shy about using them. As he explained, only by being more ruthless, more cunning, and more knowledgeable about dark magic than the Dark wizards themselves could one hope to suppress them.
When the new school year began, what the students feared most was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Everyone had heard of "Mad-Eye" Moody's legends and worried he might cast Unforgivable Curses on them the way he did against Death Eaters.
In truth, the students had no idea that while Moody was strict, he also had a strong sense of control. He would never attack his students.
"The previous Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers were too gentle," Moody told Wes in one of their private talks. "The students need to truly understand the danger posed by the forces of darkness."
He was particularly satisfied with the duel training sessions Wes had previously arranged and decided to keep them in the curriculum. Moody's lessons were far stricter than Professor Lupin's, and the young witches and wizards groaned under the pressure—especially the Slytherins.
Most of the criminals Moody had captured over his career were Slytherins, and some of the students' relatives or parents had been thrown into Azkaban by him personally. Having grown up hearing these tales, these children both feared and hated him.
"If you grow up to be like your parents," Moody barked one day, "I'll toss you into Azkaban to join them."
That single line made several children burst into tears, much to the amusement of students from the other three Houses.
Time passed quickly, and soon it was October.
On one particular day, all classes were canceled as the entire school prepared to welcome their distant guests—the students and headmasters from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons.
Though October temperatures in Britain typically hovered between 6°C and 16°C, today was drizzly and gray. Students huddled beneath rain cloaks, grumbling about the miserable weather.
Then came the sound of wings beating against the air. Sharp-eyed students spotted a massive carriage descending from the sky—practically a moving palace, its body gleaming with golden light and decorated with ornate patterns.
It was pulled by eight Abraxan winged horses, whose size and strength far outmatched ordinary steeds, giving them tremendous stamina and power.
The grand carriage descended slowly onto Hogwarts' grounds, accompanied by music and a dazzling glow of magic.
The carriage door opened, and a tall woman stepped out.
She was enormous, taller even than Hagrid by a full head, and radiated an air of authority that left a lasting impression.
This was Madame Olympe Maxime, Headmistress of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Following her were the Beauxbatons students.
It was clear they had been carefully dressed for the occasion. They descended the carriage in elegant silk robes, their movements graceful and refined, exuding an aristocratic air.
One girl in particular drew almost every eye. She had long silver hair, deep blue eyes as clear as a mountain lake, and features so delicate she seemed like a princess from a fairy tale.
This was Fleur Delacour, who stood out brilliantly among her peers.
The Hogwarts students watched with admiration, especially the boys, who were captivated by her beauty.
"Wow, the Beauxbatons students are stunning."
While Dumbledore exchanged pleasantries with Madame Maxime, a low rumbling suddenly echoed from above.
The students of Hogwarts looked up to see a massive black ship rising slowly out of the lake, an awe-inspiring sight. The ship docked at the shore, and Igor Karkaroff led the Durmstrang students ashore, clad in heavy fur cloaks and blood-red robes, exuding an intimidating aura.
Standing beside Karkaroff was Viktor Krum, the Seeker for the Bulgarian national Quidditch team. His appearance immediately caused a stir.
"Merlin's beard, it's Krum!!"
Fresh from his dazzling performance in the Quidditch World Cup, Krum had become a hero to countless fans. Now, seeing him appear at Hogwarts as a Durmstrang student sent the entire school into an uproar.
"It's been too long, Dumbledore," Karkaroff said warmly, embracing him before proudly presenting Krum. "This is the world's finest Seeker, and our champion—Viktor Krum."
Krum, however, behaved with humility. Unlike the flamboyant Karkaroff, he simply nodded slightly in greeting to Dumbledore.
Dumbledore returned the gesture with a smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Krum. Your performance was indeed most impressive."
He then welcomed the guests into the Great Hall, where the warmth quickly encouraged everyone to shed their damp cloaks. The house-elves had prepared a magnificent feast, including dishes from France and Northern Europe, in honor of the visiting schools.
The hall was filled with mouthwatering aromas as the students gathered around the long tables to enjoy delicacies from abroad.
Halfway through the banquet, Dumbledore rose to his feet and tapped his glass for silence.
"My dear students," his voice rang through the hall, "tonight, not only do we welcome our friends from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, but we also commence a most important ceremony—the unveiling of the Goblet of Fire."
Before the entire assembly, Dumbledore, Madame Maxime, and Karkaroff ascended the dais and pulled away the black cloth covering the Goblet.
At first glance, it looked like nothing more than an old, battered wooden cup, hardly remarkable. Yet it was the key to the greatest honor available to students of Europe's magical schools.
Dumbledore explained, "The Goblet of Fire will choose the champions of the Triwizard Tournament. Any student aged seventeen or older may submit their name. Tomorrow evening, the Goblet will select one champion from each school to compete in the tasks ahead."
Excited chatter instantly filled the hall as students began to whisper plans, eager for their chance to shine.
"To prevent underage students from entering," Dumbledore continued, tracing a glowing line across the floor, "this is the Age Restriction Line. No one under seventeen will be able to cross it."
Some of the younger students immediately began scheming ways to bypass the magic.
Dumbledore, of course, was fully aware of their thoughts, but he had no intention of interfering. If a student truly managed to break his enchantment, then perhaps he did not deserve to be called the greatest white wizard of his age.
°°°
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