There was a definite end-of-the-holidays gloom in the air when Harry awoke next morning. Heavy rain was still splattering against the window as he got dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, they would change into their school robes on the Hogwarts Express.
Harry looked to see that Y/n's bed was empty. "Y/n's gone again..."
"He's always waking up early." Ron grumbled as he sat up in his own bed.
Harry, Ron, Fred, and George had just reached the first-floor landing on their way down to breakfast, when Mrs. Weasley appeared at the foot of the stairs, looking harassed.
"Arthur!" she called up the staircase. "Arthur! Urgent message from the Ministry!"
Harry flattened himself against the wall as Mr. Weasley came clattering past with his robes on back-to-front and hurtled out of sight. When Harry and the others entered the kitchen, they saw Y/n was already sat down at the dining table eating breakfast while Mrs. Weasley rummaged anxiously in the drawers
"I've got a quill here somewhere!" She said to herself.
Mr. Weasley bending over the fire, talking to...Harry shut his eyes hard and opened them again to make sure that they were working properly.
Amos Diggory's head was sitting in the middle of the flames like a large, bearded egg. It was talking very fast, completely unperturbed by the sparks flying around it and the flames licking its ears. "... Muggle neighbors heard bangs and shouting, so they went and called those what'd'you-call-'ems...please...men. Arthur, you've got to get over there..."
"Here!" said Mrs. Weasley breathlessly, pushing a piece of parchment, a bottle of ink, and a crumpled quill into Mr. Weasley's hands.
"... it's a real stroke of luck I heard about it." said Mr. Diggory's head. "I had to come into the office early to send a couple of owls, and I found the Improper Use of Magic lot all setting off. If Rita Skeeter gets hold of this one, Arthur..."
"What does Mad-Eye say happened?" asked Mr. Weasley, unscrewing the ink bottle, loading up his quill, and preparing to take notes.
Mr. Diggory's head rolled its eyes. "Says he heard an intruder in his yard. Says he was creeping toward the house, but was ambushed by his dustbins."
"What did the dustbins do?" asked Mr. Weasley, scribbling frantically.
"Made one hell of a noise and fired rubbish everywhere, as far as I can tell." said Mr. Diggory. "Apparently one of them was still rocketing around when the please...men turned up."
Mr. Weasley groaned. "And what about the intruder?"
"Arthur, you know Mad-Eye." said Mr. Diggory's head, rolling its eyes again. "Someone creeping into his yard in the dead of night? More likely there's a very shell-shocked cat wandering around somewhere, covered in potato peelings. But if the Improper Use of Magic lot get their hands on Mad-Eye, he's had it...think of his record. We've got to get him off on a minor charge, something in your department, what are exploding dustbins worth?"
"Might be a caution." said Mr. Weasley, still writing very fast, his brow furrowed. "Mad-Eye didn't use his wand? He didn't actually attack anyone?"
"I'll bet he leapt out of bed and started jinxing everything he could reach through the window." said Mr. Diggory, "But they'll have a job proving it, there aren't any casualties."
"All right, I'm off." Mr. Weasley said, and he stuffed the parchment with his notes on it into his pocket and dashed out of the kitchen again.
Mr. Diggory's head looked around at Mrs. Weasley. "Sorry about this, Molly." it said, more calmly, "Bothering you so early and everything... but Arthur's the only one who can get Mad-Eye off, and Mad-Eye's supposed to be starting his new job today. Why he had to choose last night..."
"Never mind, Amos." said Mrs. Weasley. "Sure you won't have a bit of toast or anything before you go?"
"Oh go on, then." said Mr. Diggory.
Mrs. Weasley took a piece of buttered toast from a stack on the kitchen table, put it into the fire tongs, and transferred it into Mr. Diggory's mouth.
"Fanks." he said in a muffled voice, and then, with a small pop, vanished.
Y/n finished his own toast now as he could hear Mr. Weasley calling hurried good-byes to Bill, Charlie, Percy, and the girls. Within five minutes, he was back in the kitchen, his robes on the right way now, dragging a comb through his hair.
"I'd better hurry...you have a good term, boys, said Mr. Weasley to Y/n, Harry, Ron, and the twins, fastening a cloak over his shoulders and preparing to Disapparate. "Molly, are you going to be all right taking the kids to King's Cross?"
"Of course I will." she said. "You just look after Mad-Eye, we'll be fine."
As Mr. Weasley vanished, Bill and Charlie entered the kitchen.
"Did someone say Mad-Eye?" Bill asked. "What's he been up to now."
"He says someone tried to break into his house last night." said Mrs. Weasley.
"Mad-Eye Moody?" said George thoughtfully, spreading marmalade on his toast. "Isn't he that nutter..."
"Your father thinks very highly of Mad-Eye Moody." said Mrs. Weasley sternly.
"Yeah, well, Dad collects plugs, doesn't he?" said Fred quietly as Mrs. Weasley left the room. "Birds of a feather..."
"I have heard Moody was a great wizard in his time." said Y/n from the table.
"He's an old friend of Dumbledore's, isn't he?" Charlie asked Bill.
"Dumbledore's not what you'd call normal, though, is he?" said Fred. "I mean, I know he's a genius and everything... "
"Who is Mad-Eye?" asked Harry.
"He's retired, used to work at the Ministry." said Charlie. "I met him once when Dad took me into work with him. He was an Auror. One of the best...a Dark wizard catcher." he added, seeing Harry's blank look. "Half the cells in Azkaban are full because of him. He made himself loads of enemies, though...the families of people he caught, mainly...and I heard he's been getting really paranoid in his old age. Doesn't trust anyone anymore. Sees Dark wizards everywhere."
Bill and Charlie had decided to come and see everyone off at King's Cross station, but Percy, apologizing most profusely, said that he really needed to get to work. "I just can't justify taking more time off at the moment." he told them. "Mr. Crouch is really starting to rely on me."
"Yeah, you know what, Percy?" said George seriously. "I reckon he'll know your name soon."
Mrs. Weasley had braved the telephone in the village post office to order three ordinary Muggle taxis to take them into London.
"Arthur tried to borrow Ministry cars for us." Y/n heard Mrs. Weasley whisper to Harry as they all stood in the rain-washed yard, watching the taxi drivers heaving seven heavy Hogwarts trunks into their cars. "But there weren't any to spare...Oh dear, they don't look happy, do they?"
Y/n saw that their driver didn't look pleased at all by the overexcited owls, and Pigwidgeon was making an earsplitting racket. Nor did it help that a number of Filibuster's Fabulous No-Heat, Wet-Start Fireworks went off unexpectedly when Fred's trunk sprang open, causing the driver carrying it to yell with fright and pain as Crookshanks clawed his way up the man's leg.
The journey was uncomfortable, owing to the fact that they were jammed in the back of the taxis with their trunks. Crookshanks took quite a while to recover from the fireworks, and by the time they entered London, Harry, Ron, Y/n and Hermione were all severely scratched. They were very relieved to get out at King's Cross, even though the rain was coming down harder than ever, and they got soaked carrying their trunks across the busy road and into the station.
Y/n was used to getting onto platform nine and three-quarters by now. It was a simple matter of walking straight through the apparently solid barrier dividing platforms nine and ten. The only tricky part was doing this in an unobtrusive way, so as to avoid attracting Muggle attention. They did it in groups today, Harry, Ron, Y/n and Hermione the most conspicuous, since they were accompanied by Pigwidgeon, Noctis and Crookshanks went first. They leaned casually against the barrier, chatting unconcernedly, and slid sideways through it and as they did so, platform nine and three-quarters materialized in front of them.
"Good girl for not putting up a fuss Noctis." Y/n said to his cat who just meowed at him. "Yes, I will let you off on the train."
The Hogwarts Express, a gleaming scarlet steam engine, was already there, clouds of steam billowing from it, through which the many Hogwarts students and parents on the platform appeared like dark ghosts. Pigwidgeon became noisier than ever in response to the hooting of many owls through the mist. Harry, Ron, Y/n and Hermione set off to find seats, and were soon stowing their luggage in a compartment halfway along the train. They then hopped back down onto the platform to say good-bye to Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie.
"I might be seeing you all sooner than you think." said Charlie, grinning, as he hugged Ginny good-bye.
"Why?" said Fred keenly.
"You'll see." said Charlie. "Just don't tell Percy I mentioned it... it's 'classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it,' after all. "
"Yeah, I sort of wish I were back at Hogwarts this year." said Bill, hands in his pockets, looking almost wistfully at the train.
"Why?" said George impatiently.
"You're going to have an interesting year." said Bill, his eyes twinkling. "I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it."
"A bit of what?" said Ron.
But at that moment, the whistle blew, and Mrs. Weasley chivvied them toward the train doors.
"Thanks for having us, Mrs. Weasley." said Hermione as they climbed on board, closed the door, and leaned out of the window to talk to her.
"Our stay was wonderful. Thank you." Y/n said to her.
"Yeah, thanks for everything, Mrs. Weasley." said Harry.
"Oh it was my pleasure, dears." said Mrs. Weasley. "I'd invite you for Christmas, but...well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with... one thing and another."
"Mum!" said Ron irritably. "What d'you three know that we don't?"
"You'll find out this evening, I expect." said Mrs. Weasley, smiling. "It's going to be very exciting - mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules..."
"What rules?" said Harry, Ron, Fred, and George together.
"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you...Now, behave, won't you? Won't you, Fred? And you, George?" Mrs Weasley told them.
The pistons hissed loudly and the train began to move.
"Tell us what's happening at Hogwarts!" Fred bellowed out of the window as Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie sped away from them. "What rules are they changing?"
But Mrs. Weasley only smiled and waved. Before the train had rounded the corner, she, Bill, and Charlie had Disapparated.
Harry, Ron, Y/n and Hermione went back to their compartment. The thick rain splattering the windows made it very difficult to see out of them. Ron undid his trunk, pulled out his maroon dress robes, and flung them over Pigwidgeon's cage to muffle his hooting.
Y/n and Hermione opened their cages to let Noctis and Crookshanks out and both cats immediately dived onto a spare seat and settled down together, much to Y/n slight irk.
"Bagman wanted to tell us what's happening at Hogwarts," Ron said grumpily, sitting down next to Harry. "At the World Cup, remember? But my own mother won't say. Wonder what..."
"Shh!" Hermione whispered suddenly, pressing her finger to her lips and pointing toward the compartment next to theirs. Harry, Y/n and Ron listened and heard a familiar drawling voice drifting in through the open door.
"...Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore, the man's such a Mudblood-lover and Durmstrang doesn't admit that sort of riffraff. But Mother didn't like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defense rubbish we do... "
Hermione got up, tiptoed to the compartment door, and slid it shut, blocking out Malfoy's voice.
"So he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he?" she said angrily. "I wish he had gone, then we wouldn't have to put up with him."
"Durmstrang's another wizarding school?" said Harry.
Y/n just shifted uncomfortably in his seat now as he watched the rain coming down.
"Yes." said Hermione sniffily. "And it's got a horrible reputation. According to An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe, it puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark Arts."
"I think I've heard of it." said Ron vaguely.
"They wrote to my Grandmother when Atticus and I were five." Y/n said quietly now.
"They did?" Hermione asked surprised. "Surely they didn't try to invite you at such a young age? Not even Hogwarts does that."
"Not to invite us, No." Y/n said. "To banish us..."
"Banish you?" Harry asked not understanding.
"Our Great Uncle, Gellert Grindelwald. He attended Durmstrang when he was our age. But when he was sixteen they finally decided to expel him. Ever since then anyone with the Grindelwald name has been banished."
"What did he do to be expelled? Harry asked.
"I do not know the full details." Y/n admitted. "But I know that he was caught experimenting with Dark curses on other students..."
"Bloody hell...so, where is it this Durmstrang ? What country?" Ron asked now.
"Well, nobody knows, do they?" said Hermione, raising her eyebrows.
"Why not?" said Harry.
"There's traditionally been a lot of rivalry between all the magic schools. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons like to conceal their whereabouts so nobody can steal their secrets." said Hermione.
"Come off it." said Ron, starting to laugh. "Durmstrang's got to be about the same size as Hogwarts, how are you going to hide a great big castle?"
"But Hogwarts is hidden." said Hermione, in surprise. "Everyone knows that...well, everyone who's read Hogwarts, A History, anyway. "
"Just you and Y/n then." said Ron. "So go on... how d'you hide a place like Hogwarts?"
"It's bewitched." said Hermione. "If a Muggle looks at it, all they see is a moldering old ruin with a sign over the entrance saying DANGER, DO NOT ENTER, UNSAFE."
"So Durmstrang'll just look like a ruin to an outsider too?"
"Maybe." said Hermione, shrugging. "Or it might have Muggle repelling charms on it, like the World Cup stadium. And to keep foreign wizards from finding it, they'll have made it Unplottable..."
"Come again?" Harry asked.
"Well, you can enchant a building so it's impossible to plot on a map, can't you?" Hermione said.
"Er...if you say so." said Harry.
"But I think Durmstrang must be somewhere in the far north." said Hermione thoughtfully. "Somewhere very cold, because they've got fur capes as part of their uniforms."
"Ah, think of the possibilities." said Ron dreamily. "It would've been so easy to push Malfoy off a glacier and make it look like an accident. Shame his mother likes him..."
"Is it not just?" Y/n agreed.
The rain became heavier and heavier as the train moved farther north. The sky was so dark and the windows so steamy that the lanterns were lit by midday. The lunch trolley came rattling along the corridor, and Harry bought a large stack of Cauldron Cakes for them to share.
Several of their friends looked in on them as the afternoon progressed, including Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom, a round-faced, extremely forgetful boy who had been brought up by his formidable witch of a grandmother. Seamus was still wearing his Ireland rosette. Some of its magic seemed to be wearing off now. It was still squeaking "Troy - Mullet - Moran!" but in a very feeble and exhausted sort of way.
After half an hour or so, Hermione, growing tired of the endless Quidditch talk, buried herself once more in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, and started trying to learn a Summoning Charm.
Neville listened jealously to the others' conversation as they relived the Cup match.
"Gran didn't want to go." he said miserably. "Wouldn't buy tickets. It sounded amazing though. "
"It was." said Ron. "Look at this, Neville..." He rummaged in his trunk up in the luggage rack and pulled out the miniature figure of Viktor Krum.
"Oh wow." said Neville enviously as Ron tipped Krum onto his pudgy hand.
"We saw him right up close, as well." said Ron. "We were in the Top Box..."
"For the first and last time in your life, Weasley." Draco Malfoy had appeared in the doorway. Behind him stood Crabbe and Goyle, his enormous, thuggish cronies, both of whom appeared to have grown at least a foot during the summer. Evidently they had overheard the conversation through the compartment door, which Dean and Seamus had left ajar.
Y/n turned his head to look at the now but was surprised to see Atticus was not with them.
"I don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy." said Harry coolly.
"Weasley...what is that?" said Malfoy, pointing at Pigwidgeon's cage. A sleeve of Ron's dress robes was dangling from it, swaying with the motion of the train, the moldy lace cuff very obvious.
Ron made to stuff the robes out of sight, but Malfoy was too quick for him, he seized the sleeve and pulled.
"Look at this!" said Malfoy in ecstasy, holding up Ron's robes and showing Crabbe and Goyle "Weasley, you weren't thinking of wearing these, were you? I mean, they were very fashionable in about eighteen ninety..."
"Eat dung, Malfoy!" said Ron, the same color as the dress robes as he snatched them back out of Malfoy's grip. Malfoy howled with derisive laughter, Crabbe and Goyle guffawed stupidly.
"So...going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There's money involved as well, you know, you'd be able to afford some decent robes if you won..."
"What are you talking about?" snapped Ron.
"Are you going to enter?" Malfoy repeated. "I suppose you will, Potter and Grindelwald? You never miss a chance to show off, do you Potter? And with Atticus entering you are bound to be as well." Draco continued.
"Either explain what you're on about or go away, Malfoy." said Hermione testily, over the top of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4.
A gleeful smile spread across Malfoy's pale face. "Don't tell me you don't know?" he said delightedly. "You've got a father and brother at the Ministry and you don't even know? My God, my father told me about it ages ago...heard it from Cornelius Fudge. But then, Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry...Maybe your father's too junior to know about it, Weasley...yes...they probably don't talk about important stuff in front of him.... "
"What your father does is no secret Malfoy. He uses his position to threaten those who work below him and his money to line the pockets of those above him to turn a blind eye to his corrupt nature. Do not speak as if he is a hard and noble worker for the only person you delude is yourself...I suggest you leave." Y/n spoke up now.
Malfoy looked fuming but beckoned to Crabbe and Goyle, and the three of them disappeared.
Ron got to his feet and slammed the sliding compartment door so hard behind them that the glass shattered.
"Ron!" said Hermione reproachfully, and she pulled out her wand, muttered "Reparo!" and the glass shards flew back into a single pane and back into the door.
"Well making it look like he knows everything and we don't. " Ron snarled. "'Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry'...Dad could've got a promotion any time...he just likes it where he is."
"Of course he does." said Hermione quietly.
"Do not let Malfoy get to you Ron..." Y/n began.
"Him! Get to me!? As if!" said Ron, picking up one of the remaining Cauldron Cakes and squashing it into a pulp.
Ron's bad mood continued for the rest of the journey. He didn't talk much as they changed into their school robes, and was still glowering when the Hogwarts Express slowed down at last and finally stopped in the pitch black darkness of Hogsmeade station.
As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder overhead.
"You cannot be serious..." Y/n said frustrated and slightly anxious as he ripped open his trunk not caring if his things got wet and grabbed a box out of it before closing the trunk back up.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked as she bundled up Crookshanks and Noctis in her cloak and Ron left his dress robes over Pigwidgeon as they left the train, heads bent and eyes narrowed against the downpour.
"It is nothing, I just need to get to the Castle, urgently." Y/n said back quickly causing Hermione to raise her brow.
The rain was now coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice-cold water were being emptied repeatedly over their heads.
"Hi, Hagrid!" Harry yelled, seeing a gigantic silhouette at the far end of the platform.
"All righ', Harry?" Hagrid bellowed back, waving. "See yeh at the feast if we don' drown!"
First years traditionally reached Hogwarts Castle by sailing across the lake with Hagrid.
"Oooh, I wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather." said Hermione fervently, shivering as they inched slowly along the dark platform with the rest of the crowd. A hundred horseless carriages stood waiting for them outside the station. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Y/n climbed gratefully into one of them, the door shut with a snap, and a few moments later, with a great lurch, the long procession of carriages was rumbling and splashing its way up the track toward Hogwarts Castle.
Ron had started back up the conversation from on the train.
"Ron please give it a rest, We'll find out when the others do." Hermione said fed up.
Y/n's eyes were fully on the sky though and soon he could see a bolt of lightning flash across the sky and his thoughts were finally confirmed. "Dammit...I do not have time to wait." He said quietly.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked noticing.
"It's only a lightning storm." Ron added.
"Listen, I need you three to promise me you will not tell anybody what you are about to see." Y/n said seriously now as he took the box from his trunk out. "It could get me and S...Someone else into a lot of trouble."
"Y/n, you're starting to worry me." Hermione said.
"Yeah mate, what the hell are you talking about?" Ron asked as he looked to see Harry looked just as confused as him.
"I do not know how this is going to turn out..." Y/n said honestly as he took out a crystal phial now which contained a small blood-red potion. "But I need to concentrate so please do not distract me."
Hermione looked at the crystal phial now and her eye's widened. "Y/n, is that..."
Y/n just took out his wand now and removed the phial's stopper. Another flash of lightning passed overhead and he placed his wand over is chest and uttered the phrase. "Amato Animo Animato Animagus..." One last time before drinking the small potion.
Y/n immediately gasped as he felt an intense double heartbeat that caused him to drop his wand. It felt like fire was burning through his veins and he fell to the carriage floor breathing heavily.
Harry, Ron and Hermione could only watch in shock and horror as Y/n looked to be in an intense amount of pain.
"What the hell has he done to himself Hermione!?" Ron asked.
"He's..." She started but Y/n let out a deep groan on pain as his nails dug into the carriage floor.
He was doing everything he could to remain focused and soon he heard a voice in his head.
'You must show no fear. It is too late now, to escape the change you have willed.'
Y/n just gritted his teeth with determination as he closed his eyes now and the figure of an animal began to appear in his mind.
"Shouldn't we be doing something it looks like he is in agony..." Harry said worried now.
Hermione looked conflicted what Y/n was doing would certainly get him into a lot of trouble if he was found out, but it was also dangerous and he looked to be suffering a lot.
To the three's shock and surprise however, Y/n's form began to change.
Y/n finally felt the pain in his body begin to die away but that was only replaced with fatigue and exhaustion. He tried to let out a tired groan but what came out instead sounded like a low growl. He slowly opened his heavy eyes to see Harry, Ron and Hermione looking down at him.
"Is he a..." Harry started but trailed off.
"Bloody Hell!" Ron said still in shock but sounding impressed.
"Y/n are you okay? How do you feel?" Hermione asked him worriedly.
Y/n tried to let out a reply but his own voice did not come out at all startling him for a moment. He looked down now to try see his hand but was surprised to see it had been replaced with something very different from a hand.
"Y/n. I'm going to lift you up for a moment, okay?" Hermione asked as she held out her hands. Y/n made no attempts to move and simply watched her as she lifted him up. The feeling of being picked up was an odd one but it didn't last too long and he felt himself being put down where he had originally been sitting.
The three just looked at one another now unsure how to proceed for a moment.
"Y/n, can you hear us and understand us?" Hermione asked him.
Y/n went to say yes but what came out sounded like a meow.
"I guess that means yes?" Harry said unsure to the others.
Crookshanks and Noctis who were still bundled up in Hermione's robes stared at him curiously and both soon pushed their way out of it and onto the space between Y/n and Hermione. Crookshanks walked forward first and for the first time Y/n seemed to understand him, Sirius was right this cat was clever. Crookshanks sniffed at Y/n for a moment before seeing to recognize who he was. He then turned his head to Noctis and meowed, it was her turn to sniff at Y/n. Noctis was slightly more reluctant than Crookshanks but she leaned her head forward and sniffed. After a few moments all doubt seemed to leave the cat as she meowed and brushed against him happily.
Through the gates, flanked with statues of winged boars, and up the sweeping drive the carriages trundled, swaying dangerously in what was fast becoming a gale. Looking out the window, Harry could see Hogwarts coming nearer, its many lighted windows blurred and shimmering behind the thick curtain of rain.
"Y/n we're almost at the castle." Harry warned him.
Y/n closed his eyes again and tried to remember what it was Sirius had told him he needed to do to change back. A few moments went by and he remembered that he needed to visualize being human again. It took a minute for it to work but Y/n finally turned back into his regular self as he let out some deep tired breaths. Noctis and Crookshanks both settled on his lap.
"It...worked..." Y/n panted.
"Y/n what on earth were you thinking!?" Hermione began to berate him. "Do you know how dangerous that was!? If you're caught you could go to Azkaban!"
"Only if we told on him." Ron said.
"You've got to let Professor McGonagall know at least." Hermione argued.
"No..." Y/n said. "I... did this to keep it secret...even you three...were not supposed... to find out."
"How did you learn to do it?" Harry asked curiously.
"Sirius..." Y/n responded.
"Sirius?" Harry repeated surprised. "Have you been writing him letters as well?"
"No." Y/n slowly shook his head as his panting stopped now but it was clear he was still exhausted. "The letter he enclosed to me back on the train at the end of last year. It contained instructions on how to become an Animagus." and Y/n began to explain to them the lengths he had gone through.
"You're an Animgaus now...a Black cat." Ron said still impressed. "Would have been cooler if you had turned into a Panther or a Lion or maybe even a..."
"On...the contrary..." Y/n said tiredly cutting him off. "This is exactly what I wanted. Something small to help blend in."
"I still say you should tell Professor McGonagall." Hermione huffed unimpressed he kept it a secret from them all.
"What good will that do?" Harry said.
"She can help Y/n with this new transformation till he's used to it, even Sirius and your dad had help from one another Harry. Y/n can't do this on his own, Sirius won't be able to speak to him as often as he needs."
"Forget that, she'll just make him register and spoil all the fun." Ron said.
Y/n however just sat silently stroking Crookshanks and Noctis as he thought over Hermione's point.
Their carriage soon came to a halt before the great oak front doors, which stood at the top of a flight of stone steps. People who had occupied the carriages in front were already hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Y/n jumped down from their carriage and walked up the steps too, looking up only when they were safely inside the cavernous, torch-lit entrance hall, with its magnificent marble staircase.
"Blimey." said Ron, shaking his head and sending water everywhere. "If that keeps up the lake's going to overflow. I'm soak...ARRGH!"
A large, red, water-filled balloon had dropped from out of the ceiling onto Ron's head and exploded. Drenched and sputtering, Ron staggered sideways into Harry, just as a second water bomb dropped narrowly missing Hermione, it burst at Harry's feet, sending a wave of cold water over his sneakers into his socks. People all around them shrieked and started pushing one another in their efforts to get out of the line of fire. Y/n looked up and saw, floating twenty feet above them, Peeves the Poltergeist, a little man in a bell-covered hat and orange bow tie, his wide, malicious face contorted with concentration as he took aim again.
"PEEVES!" yelled an angry voice. "Peeves, come down here at ONCE!"
Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and head of Gryffindor House, had come dashing out of the Great Hall. She skidded on the wet floor and grabbed Hermione around the neck to stop herself from falling.
"Ouch... sorry, Miss Granger..."
"That's all right, Professor!" Hermione gasped, massaging her throat.
"Peeves, get down here NOW!" barked Professor McGonagall, straightening her pointed hat and glaring upward through her square-rimmed spectacles.
"Not doing nothing!" cackled Peeves, lobbing a water bomb at several fifth-year girls, who screamed and dived into the Great Hall. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!" And he aimed another bomb at a group of second years who had just arrived.
"I shall call the headmaster!" shouted Professor McGonagall. "I'm warning you, Peeves..."
Peeves stuck out his tongue, threw the last of his water bombs into the air, and zoomed off up the marble staircase, cackling insanely.
"Well, move along, then!" said Professor McGonagall sharply to the bedraggled crowd. "Into the Great Hall, come on!"
"Uhh...Professor." Hermione began as Ron shot her a look but she continued. "Could Y/n and I speak to you privately?"
"Privately Miss Granger?" About what?" Professor McGonagall asked suspiciously.
"It's about...a matter that happened on the way here." Hermione said.
Y/n just put his hands behind his back.
"Very well...You two shall follow me. Potter, Weasley off to the Great Hall." Professor McGonagall said.
Ron just shook his head as he and Harry joined the other students and Y/n heard him mutter to Harry. "Does she have to take the fun out of everything?"
Y/n and Hermione silently followed Professor McGonagall to her office. Y/n glanced to his side to see that Hermione was slightly nervous. Did she expect him to behave in the same way that Harry and Ron had last year over the Firebolt?
Professor McGonagall opened the door now and both Y/n and Hermione stepped inside.
"So, What is it you both must urgently tell me?"
Y/n stayed quiet until Hermione turned her head to him. "You need to show her Y/n." She urged.
Y/n sighed knowing that he was not going to be able to hide his ability like he had quite hoped to. "I need a moment..." He said.
Professor McGonagall stood at her desk waiting for Y/n to show her what Hermione had deemed important. Seconds of silence went by as she patiently waited but as Y/n stood with his eyes closed unmoving her patience began to thin. She was just about to say something when Y/n's form shifted into that of a Black cat sitting on the floor of her office.
"Mr Grindelwald..." Professor McGonagall said sounding shocked for the first time in quite a while. "Are you telling me that you've become...an Animagus?"
Y/n tried to confirm her question but only a small meow came out.
"When did this happen?" Professor McGonagall asked now as she inspected Y/n.
"That's the thing Professor." Hermione said. "The first transformation was tonight in the carriage ride from the station."
"Less than half an hour ago?" Professor McGonagall said sounding shocked for the second time. "So the ministry does not know?"
Y/n changed back now as he leaned on McGonagall's desk for support before she and Hermione guided him to sit in a chair.
"No." Y/n said now. "And I intend to keep it that way."
"Grindelwald..." Professor McGonagall started.
"I am sorry Professor. But I intend to keep this a secret." Y/n told her. "I only underwent this process to give me an advantage should I need it in the future. If it became known then the advantage would be lost."
"But the laws Grindelwald." McGonagall reminded him.
"I do not trust the Ministry as a whole Professor." Y/n admitted now. "I have seen how some of it's members treat one another and I have experienced firsthand the prejudice of others for the actions my family took as if they were my own."
Professor McGonagall had a look of slight pity on her face but she shook her head. "I cannot keep this a secret Mr Grindelwald. At the very least Professor Dumbledore will have to know. He will decide whether the ministry shall be informed." She told him. "Of all the ludicrous things you have accomplished these past few years this is certainly up there with the most dangerous. Do you have any idea of the risks involved?"
"I do." Y/n nodded. "I was warned by the person who taught me how to do this but still continued."
"And who taught you how to do this?" She asked next.
"...I cannot say Professor." Y/n told her.
Professor McGonagall sighed now seemingly expecting this answer. "Very well. You two may go to the Great Hall now, But Grindelwald you are not to change forms until this matter is resolved is that understood? This is for your own safety."
"Yes Professor." Y/n nodded.
"Then off you go." Professor McGonagall dismissed them.
As soon as they left the office Hermione was quick to talk. "I'm sorry Y/n, but I just want you to do this safely. Lots of wizard's and witches have tried this in the past only to have it backfire horribly with no known cures available."
But Y/n stopped Hermione. "While I am slightly annoyed it has been revealed." He started and Hermione went pink in the ears. "I do understand your intentions are done out of concern."
"You do?" Hermione asked.
"There is nothing that can be done now, I must simply wait for Dumbledore's verdict." Y/n said.
The two entered the Great Hall now and it looked its usual splendid self, decorated for the start-of-term feast. Golden plates and goblets gleamed by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles, floating over the tables in midair. The four long House tables were packed with chattering students, at the top of the Hall, the staff sat along one side of a fifth table, facing their pupils. It was much warmer in here. Y/n and Hermione walked past the Slytherins, the Ravenclaws, and the Hufflepuffs, and sat down next to Harry and Ron at the far side of the Hall, next to Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost. Pearly white and semitransparent, Nick was dressed tonight in his usual doublet, but with a particularly large ruff, which served the dual purpose of looking extra-festive, and insuring that his head didn't wobble too much on his partially severed neck.
"Good evening." he said, beaming at them.
"Good evening Sir Nicholas." Y/n said.
"So how did it go, You're not in trouble are you?" Ron quickly asked Y/n.
"Professor McGonagall is informing Dumbledore of the situation." Y/n told him.
"Why did you have to go and tell McGonagall for Hermione?" Ron asked her annoyed.
"That is enough Ron, Hermione simply did it out of concern, not malice." Y/n said before an argument could break out. "Besides it is not likely I could have kept it a secret for long. "Hermione was right, I do need some help with the transforming and Professor McGonagall is my only real option. Has the sorting taken place yet Harry?" He then changed the topic.
"Uh...no." Harry told him.
The Sorting of the new students into Houses took place at the start of every school year, but by an unlucky combination of circumstances, Neither Y/n and Harry hadn't been present at one since their own. Y/n was looking forward to it. Just then, a highly excited, breathless voice called down the table.
"Hiya, Harry!" It was Colin Creevey, a third year to whom Harry was something of a hero.
"Hi, Colin." said Harry warily.
"Harry, guess what? Guess what, Harry? My brother's starting! My brother Dennis!"
"Er... good." said Harry.
"He's really excited!" said Colin, practically bouncing up and down in his seat. "I just hope he's in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Harry?"
"Er... yeah, all right." said Harry. He turned back to Hermione, Yn and Ron. "Brothers and sisters usually go in the same Houses, don't they?" he said. He was judging by the Weasleys, all seven of whom had been put into Gryffindor.
"Oh no, not necessarily." said Hermione. "Parvati Patil's twin's in Ravenclaw, and they're identical. You'd think they'd be together, wouldn't you?"
"Seems like your fan club is about to double." Y/n teased as he looked up at the staff table now.
There seemed to be rather more empty seats there than usual. Hagrid, of course, was still fighting his way across the lake with the first years, Professor McGonagall had presumably returned to supervising the drying of the entrance hall floor, but there was another empty chair too.
"Where's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Hermione, who was also looking up at the teachers. They had never yet had a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who had lasted more than three terms. Y/n's favorite by far had been Professor Lupin, who had resigned last year. Something that still secretly upset Y/n.
"Maybe they couldn't get anyone!" said Hermione, looking anxious.
Harry scanned the table more carefully. Tiny little Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was sitting on a large pile of cushions beside Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher, whose hat was askew over her flyaway gray hair. She was talking to Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department. On Professor Sinistra's other side was the sallow-faced, hook-nosed, greasy-haired Potions master, Snape. Harry's least favorite person at Hogwarts. Harry's loathing of Snape was matched only by Snape's hatred of him, a hatred which had, if possible, intensified last year, when Harry had helped Sirius escape right under Snape's overlarge nose . Snape and Sirius had been enemies since their own school days.
On Snape's other side was an empty seat, which Harry guessed was Professor McGonagall's. Next to it, and in the very center of the table, sat Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, his sweeping silver hair and beard shining in the candlelight, his magnificent deep green robes embroidered with many stars and moons. The tips of Dumbledore's long, thin fingers were together and he was resting his chin upon them, staring up at the ceiling through his half-moon spectacles as though lost in thought. Harry glanced up at the ceiling too. It was enchanted to look like the sky outside, and he had never seen it look this stormy. Black and purple clouds were swirling across it, and as another thunderclap sounded outside, a fork of lightning flashed across it.
"Oh hurry up." Ron moaned, beside Harry. "I could eat a hippogriff. "
The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the doors of the Great Hall opened and silence fell. Professor McGonagall was leading a long line of first years up to the top of the Hall. If Harry, Ron, Y/n and Hermione were wet, it was nothing to how these first years looked. They appeared to have swum across the lake rather than sailed. All of them were shivering with a combination of cold and nerves as they filed along the staff table and came to a halt in a line facing the rest of the school, all of them except the smallest of the lot, a boy with mousy hair, who was wrapped in what Harry recognized as Hagrid's moleskin overcoat. The coat was so big for him that it hooked as though he were draped in a furry black circus tent. His small face protruded from over the collar, looking almost painfully excited. When he had lined up with his terrified-looking peers, he caught Colin Creevey's eye, gave a double thumbs-up, and mouthed, 'I fell in the lake!' He looked positively delighted about it.
Professor McGonagall now placed a three-legged stool on the ground before the first years and, on top of it, an extremely old, dirty patched wizard's hat. The first years stared at it. So did everyone else. For a moment, there was silence. Then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song.
"A thousand years or more ago,
When I was newly sewn, There lived four wizards of renown, Whose names are still well known.
Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor, Fair Ravenclaw, from glen, Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad, Shrewd Slytherin, from fin.
They shared a wish, a hope, a dream, They hatched a daring plan.
To educate young sorcerers.
Thus Hogwarts School began.
Now each of these four founders.
Formed their own house, for each did value different virtues.
In the ones they had to teach.
By Gryffindor, the bravest were,
Prized far beyond the rest.
For Ravenclaw, the cleverest,
Would always be the best.
For Hufflepuff, hard workers were,
Most worthy of admission.
And power-hungry Slytherin,
Loved those of great ambition.
While still alive they did divide
Their favorites from the throng,
Yet how to pick the worthy ones
When they were dead and gone?
Twas Gryffindor who found the way,
He whipped me off his head
The founders put some brains in me
So I could choose instead!
Now slip me snug about your ears,
I've never yet been wrong,
I'll have a look inside your mind
And tell where you belong!"
The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished.
"That's not the song it sang when it Sorted us." said Harry, clapping along with everyone else.
"Sings a different one every year." said Ron. "It's got to be a pretty boring life, hasn't it, being a hat? I suppose it spends all year making up the next one."
Y/n wasn't so sure that was the case however.
Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment. "When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool." she told the first years. "When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table."
"Ackerley, Stewart!"
A boy walked forward, visibly trembling from head to foot, picked up the Sorting Hat, put it on, and sat down on the stool.
"RAVENCLAW!" shouted the hat.
Stewart Ackerley took off the hat and hurried into a seat at the Ravenclaw table, where everyone was applauding him.
Harry caught a glimpse of Cho, the Ravenclaw Seeker, cheering Stewart Ackerley as he sat down. For a fleeting second, Harry had a strange desire to join the Ravenclaw table too.
"Baddock, Malcolm!"
"SLYTHERIN!"
The table on the other side of the hall erupted with cheers, Y/n could see Atticus sat down besides Malfoy who was clapping as Baddock joined the Slytherins. Fred and George just hissed as Malcolm Baddock as he sat down.
"Branstone, Eleanor!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Cauldwell, Owen!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Creevey, Dennis!"
Tiny Dennis Creevey staggered forward, tripping over Hagrid's moleskin, just as Hagrid himself sidled into the Hall through a door behind the teachers' table. About twice as tall as a normal man, and at least three times as broad, Hagrid, with his long, wild, tangled black hair and beard, looked slightly alarming. A misleading impression, for Harry, Ron, Y/n and Hermione knew Hagrid to possess a very kind nature. He winked at them as he sat down at the end of the staff table and watched Dennis Creevey putting on the Sorting Hat. The rip at the brim opened wide.
"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted.
Hagrid clapped along with the Gryffindors as Dennis Creevey, beaming widely, took off the hat, placed it back on the stool, and hurried over to join his brother.
"Colin, I fell in!" he said shrilly, throwing himself into an empty seat. "It was brilliant! And something in the water grabbed me and pushed me back in the boat!"
"Cool!" said Colin, just as excitedly. "It was probably the giant squid, Dennis!"
"Wow!" said Dennis, as though nobody in their wildest dreams could hope for more than being thrown into a storm-tossed, fathoms-deep lake, and pushed out of it again by a giant sea monster.
"Dennis! Dennis! See that boy down there? The one with the black hair and glasses? See him? Know who he is, Dennis?"
"Told you..." Y/n whispered to Harry.
Harry just looked away, staring very hard at the Sorting Hat, now Sorting Emma Dobbs.
The Sorting continued, boys and girls with varying degrees of fright on their faces moving one by one to the three-legged stool, the line dwindling slowly.
"Oh hurry up." Ron moaned, massaging his stomach.
"Now, Ron, the Sorting's much more important than food." said Nearly Headless Nick as "Madley, Laura!" became a Hufflepuff.
"Course it is, if you're dead." snapped Ron.
"I do hope this year's batch of Gryffindors are up to scratch." said Nearly Headless Nick, applauding as "McDonald, Natalie!" joined the Gryffindor table. "We don't want to break our winning streak, do we?"
Gryffindor had won the Inter-House Championship for the last three years in a row.
"Pritchard, Graham!"
"SLYTHERIN!"
"Quirke, Orla!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
And finally, with "Whitby, Kevin!" "HUFFLEPUFF!", the Sorting ended and Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and the stool and carried them away.
"About time." said Ron, seizing his knife and fork and looking expectantly at his golden plate.
Professor Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was smiling around at the students, his arms opened wide in welcome. "I have only two words to say to you." he told them, his deep voice echoing around the Hall. "Tuck in."
"Hear, hear!" said Harry and Ron loudly as the empty dishes filled magically before their eyes.
Nearly Headless Nick watched mournfully as Harry, Ron, Y/n and Hermione loaded their own plates.
"Aaah, 'at's bet'er." said Ron, with his mouth full of mashed potato.
"You're lucky there's a feast at all tonight, you know." said Nearly Headless Nick. "There was trouble in the kitchens earlier."
"What happened?" Y/n asked as he was cutting up some steak.
"Peeves, of course." said Nearly Headless Nick, shaking his head, which wobbled dangerously. He pulled his ruff a little higher up on his neck. "The usual argument, you know. He wanted to attend the feast... well, it's quite out of the question, you know what he's like, utterly uncivilized, can't see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghost's council, the Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down."
The Bloody Baron was the Slytherin ghost, a gaunt and silent specter covered in silver bloodstains. He was the only person at Hogwarts who could really control Peeves.
"Yeah, we thought Peeves seemed hacked off about something." said Ron darkly. "So what did he do in the kitchens?"
"Oh the usual." said Nearly Headless Nick, shrugging. "Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup. Terrified the house elves out of their wits..."
Clang.
Hermione had knocked over her golden goblet. Pumpkin juice spread steadily over the tablecloth, staining several feet of white linen orange, but Hermione paid no attention. "There are house elves here?" she said, staring, horror struck, at Nearly Headless Nick. "Here at Hogwarts?"
"Certainly." said Nearly Headless Nick, looking surprised at her reaction. "The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred."
"I've never seen one!" said Hermione.
"Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they?" said Nearly Headless Nick. "They come out at night to do a bit of cleaning, see to the fires and so on... I mean, you're not supposed to see them, are you? That's the mark of a good house-elf, isn't it, that you don't know it's there?"
Hermione stared at him. "But they get paid?" she said. "They get holidays, don't they? And...and sick leave, and pensions, and everything?"
Nearly Headless Nick chortled so much that his ruff slipped and his head flopped off, dangling on the inch or so of ghostly skin and muscle that still attached it to his neck.
"Sick leave and pensions?" he said, pushing his head back onto his shoulders and securing it once more with his ruff. "House-elves don't want sick leave and pensions!"
Hermione looked down at her hardly touched plate of food, then put her knife and fork down upon it and pushed it away from her.
"Oh c'mon, 'Er-my-knee." said Ron, accidentally spraying Harry with bits of Yorkshire pudding. "Oops..sorry, 'Arry." He swallowed. "You won't get them sick leave by starving yourself!"
"Ron is right, you need to eat Hermione it is unhealthy." Y/n agreed.
"Slave labor." said Hermione, breathing hard through her nose. "That's what made this dinner. Slave labor." And she refused to eat another bite.
The rain was still drumming heavily against the high, dark glass. Another clap of thunder shook the windows, and the stormy ceiling flashed, illuminating the golden plates as the remains of the first course vanished and were replaced, instantly, with puddings.
"Treacle tart, Hermione!" said Ron, deliberately wafting its smell toward her. "Spotted dick, look! Chocolate gateau!"
But Hermione gave him a look so reminiscent of Professor McGonagall that he gave up.
When the puddings too had been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard.
"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "Now that we are all fed and watered."
"Hmph!" said Hermione.
"I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."
The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. He continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year."
"More of the usual then." Ron said before Dumbledore continued.
"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year. "
"What?" Harry gasped and even Y/n was shocked. They looked around at Fred and George, their fellow members of the Quidditch team. They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak.
Dumbhedore went on. "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy... but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts..."
But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.
A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table.
A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling and Hermione gasped.
The lightning had thrown the man's face into sharp relief, and it was a face unlike they had ever seen. It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces are supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes that made him frightening.
One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all they could see was whiteness.
The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbhedore shook it, muttering words Y/n couldn't hear. He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side.
The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark gray hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students.
"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody. "
It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students chapped except Dumbledore and Hagrid, who both put their hands together and applauded, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by Moody's bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him.
"Moody?" Harry muttered to Ron. "Mad-Eye Moody? The one your dad went to help this morning?"
"Must be." said Ron in a low, awed voice.
"What happened to him?" Hermione whispered. "What happened to his face?"
"Dunno." Ron whispered back, watching Moody with fascination.
"Dark magic most likely." Y/n said and the three looked at him. "If he really has been fighting Dark Wizards and Witches for all those years then he is more than likely to have been hit by curses that leaves scars. It would explain his eye."
Harry just thought to his own scar for a moment.
Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his traveling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, and took a long draught from it. As he lifted his arm to drink, his cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground, and Harry saw, below the table, several inches of carved wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot.
Dumbledore cleared his throat. "As I was saying." he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody. "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."
"You're JOKING!" said Fred Weasley loudly.
The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.
"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley." he said. "Though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar..."
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.
"Er...but maybe this is not the time...no..." said Dumbledore,. "Where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament...well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely."
"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry. Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities, until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."
"Death toll?" Hermione whispered, looking alarmed. But her anxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of students in the Hall, many of them were whispering excitedly to one another. and Harry himself was far more interested in hearing about the tournament than in worrying about deaths that had happened hundreds of years ago.
Y/n was sat looking at Atticus on the Slytherin table who for once was leaning forward with intrigue. This must have been what Malfoy had referred to back on the train. Atticus was willing to risk his life just for glory? Y/n shook his head. He wouldn't be doing the same.
"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament." Dumbledore continued now. "None of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger."
Y/n felt better hearing this.
"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."
"I'm going for it!" Fred Weasley hissed down the table, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. He was not the only person who seemed to be visualizing himself as the Hogwarts champion. At every House table, Y/n could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore, or else whispering fervently to their neighbors. But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more.
"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts." he said. "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, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious. "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." His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred's and George's mutinous faces. "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!"
Dumbledore sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody. There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall.
"They can't do that!" said George Weasley, who had not joined the crowd moving toward the door, but was standing up and glaring at Dumbledore. "We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a shot?"
"They're not stopping me entering." said Fred stubbornly, also scowling at the top table. "The champions'll get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money!"
"Yeah." said Ron, a faraway look on his face. "Yeah, a thousand Galleons..."
Y/n could understand the Weasley's fascination with gold given how little they always had to live off.
"Come on." said Hermione. "We'll be the only ones left here if you don't move."
Harry, Ron, Y/n, Hermione, Fred, and George set off for the entrance hall, Fred and George debating the ways in which Dumbledore might stop those who were under seventeen from entering the tournament.
"Who's this impartial judge who's going to decide who the champions are?" said Harry.
"Dunno." said Fred. "But it's them we'll have to fool. I reckon a couple of drops of Aging Potion might do it, George... "
"Dumbledore knows you're not of age though." said Ron.
"Yeah, but he's not the one who decides who the champion is, is he?" said Fred shrewdly. "Sounds to me like once this judge knows who wants to enter, he'll choose the best from each school and never mind how old they are. Dumbledore's trying to stop us giving our names."
"Given both your records, I would not be surprised if Dumbledore warned any judge about you two beforehand." Y/n joked and the others but Hermione laughed.
"People have died, though!" said Hermione in a worried voice as they walked through a door concealed behind a tapestry and started up another, narrower staircase.
"Yeah." said Fred airily. "But that was years ago, wasn't it? Anyway, where's the fun without a bit of risk? Hey, Ron, what if we find out how to get 'round Dumbledore? Fancy entering?"
"What d'you reckon?" Ron asked Harry and Y/n. "Be cool to enter, wouldn't it? But I s'pose they might want someone older...Dunno if we've learned enough..."
"I definitely haven't." came Neville's gloomy voice from behind Fred and George. "I expect my gran'd want me to try, though. She's always going on about how I should be upholding the family honor. I'll just have to... oops..."
Neville's foot had sunk right through a step halfway up the staircase. There were many of these trick stairs at Hogwarts and it was second nature to most of the older students to jump this particular step, but Neville's memory was notoriously poor. Harry and Y/n seized him under the armpits and pulled him out, while a suit of armor at the top of the stairs creaked and clanked, laughing wheezily.
"Shut it, you." said Ron, banging down its visor as they passed.
They made their way up to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, which was concealed behind a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress.
"Password?" she said as they approached.
"Balderdash." said George. "A prefect downstairs told me." He told the others.
The portrait swung forward to reveal a hole in the wall through which they all climbed. A crackling fire warmed the circular common room, which was full of squashy armchairs and tables. Hermione cast the merrily dancing flames a dark look, and Y/n distinctly heard her mutter "Slave labor" before bidding them good night and disappearing through the doorway to the girls' dormitory.
Harry, Ron, Y/n and Neville climbed up the last, spiral staircase until they reached their own dormitory, which was situated at the top of the tower. Six four-poster beds with deep crimson hangings stood against the walls, each with its owner's trunk at the foot. Dean and Seamus were already getting into bed. Seamus had pinned his Ireland rosette to his headboard, and Dean had tacked up a poster of Viktor Krum over his bedside table. His old poster of the West Ham football team was pinned right next to it.
"Mental." Ron sighed, shaking his head at the completely stationary soccer players.
"I still find it quite interesting." Y/n said.
Harry, Ron, Y/n and Neville got into their pajamas and into bed. Someone... a house-elf, no doubt had placed warming pans between the sheets. It was extremely comfortable, lying there in bed and listening to the storm raging outside.
"I might go in for it, you know." Ron said sleepily through the darkness. "If Fred and George find out how to... the tournament... you never know, do you?"
"S'pose not. ." Harry said.
"I doubt Fred and George will be able to find a way Ron and even If they do, you can count me out." Y/n said.
"Come on you don't want fame and riches?" Ron asked him then yawned.
"People already know my name Ron, and not for a good reason and as for riches. I am not doing too badly." Y/n said.
"Yeah, Yeah. We'll it's nice for some I suppose." Ron grumbled.
Y/n just shook his head then rolled over to catch some sleep. He had more important things on his mind. Like what Dumbledore would say about him recently becoming an Animagus.