Aye, ye lookin' fer trouble?
The Great Hall was alive with energy that morning, the enchanted ceiling swirling with stormy autumn skies while thousands of floating jack-o'-lanterns flickered overhead. Long tables were laden with an extravagant breakfast spread—pumpkin pasties, cauldron cakes, and even bowls of enchanted candies that changed flavors with each bite. Students filtered in, some still rubbing the sleep from their eyes, others already showing off their costumes, laughing as they admired one another’s efforts. While pureblood wizards typically viewed Halloween as just another Tuesday, muggle-borns treasure the tradition of dressing in elaborate costumes.
As usual, Mel, Jayce, and Caitlyn were the first ones awake, sitting at the Gryffindor table for breakfast. The hall was still quiet, save for the sound of their conversation and the clink of utensils.
Jayce grinned, glancing around the mostly empty hall. 'So, what do you think of the costumes so far?'
Mel raised an eyebrow, her gaze sweeping across the hall. 'I saw someone dressed as a giant pumpkin.'
Caitlyn chuckled softly. 'I spotted someone dressed as a dragon. But the wings were more like a couple of really poorly constructed cardboard boxes. It was... creative, to say the least..'
Jayce laughed, shaking his head. 'It's impressive, in a way, just how much effort some people put into... not putting effort in.'
'True,' Mel said, glancing at a pair of students dressed as a mismatched pair of socks. 'That one’s a bit of a stretch, though.'
"Mylo’s definitely going to try to make us join in."
Before anyone could reply, Ekko and Viktor walked in. Ekko was dressed as a futuristic time traveler, his jacket covered in shifting, glowing runes and his boots modified to make no sound. Thin, circular glasses perched on his nose, and a golden pocket watch hung from his belt. Viktor sported a long, oversized lab coat and enchanted goggles, perched on his head, which shimmered intermittently. His hair had been magically transformed to a silver color, sticking up in awkward directions to complete his look.
Ekko and Viktor sat down as casually as possible, but Jayce couldn’t help himself. He stared at Viktor’s hair in awe, his mouth hanging open. 'How... how did you get it to do that?' he asked, eyes wide.
Viktor smirked, running a hand through his silver spikes, which merely bounced back into sharp peaks. 'A little magic, a lot of charm, and some creative thinking.'
Jayce blinked, still trying to process what he was seeing. 'That's incredible,' he muttered, shaking his head. 'You look like you're straight out of a science fiction novel.'
The door to the Great Hall swung open again, and in strutted Powder, grinning from ear to ear in her magical Harley Quinn costume. Her pigtails shimmered in pink and blue, and her oversized jacket with shifting playing cards clashed perfectly with her toy mallet, which squeaked with every exaggerated swing. Tucked inside her coat were several prop grenades, each one fizzed and puffed colorful smoke as she walked. Beside her was Isha, dressed as a literal grenade. Every step she took sent a faint ticking noise through the hall. They exchanged a fist bump before Powder walked over to the group while Isha headed off to join her friends.
As Powder sat down, Jayce raised an eyebrow, eyeing the grenades still tucked inside her jacket. "Hey, Powder," he said with mild concern. "Are those… actually real?"
Powder only smiled wider, giving him a playful wink before summoning her breakfast.
Mel snorted, glancing toward the entrance. The others followed her gaze as Mylo and Claggor strolled in.
Mylo was dressed as a wizard from the 1920s, his pinstriped suit sharp, with a bowler hat perched jauntily on his head. The cane in his hand glowed faintly at the tip, making him look like he had stepped right out of a bygone era. But the real standout was his absurdly massive mustache, thick and curled at the ends, looking like something straight out of a circus. It practically overshadowed his face.
Claggor, on the other hand, had transfigured a snout and ears. The look was complete with large, fluffy feet, designed to give him a comically exaggerated appearance. The effect was more cute than terrifying, like a playful puppy trying to act fierce.
As they sat down, Jayce raised an eyebrow, clearly trying to hold back a laugh. "Mylo, buddy," he said, pointing at the mustache, "You look like you’re one big twirl away from a villain monologue."
Mel let out a snort. "If that thing gets any bigger, I’m worried it’ll start its own conversation."
Claggor grinned, his fluffy feet tapping against the floor. "I think your mustache is trying to store your breakfast. Need a napkin for that thing?"
Before Mylo could retort, a sudden silence fell over the hall. The chatter and laughter tapered off as everyone’s attention turned toward the entrance.
Vi stood there, her dark red coat embroidered with gold runes that shifted subtly as she moved. Her knee high boots were scuffed, and a wide-brimmed hat sat atop her head, a silver feather tucked into the band. At her side hung a curved sword, its blade glowing faintly with a quiet pulse. In place of her left hand, a gleaming metal hook caught the light. The kicker, however, was the puppet parrot perched on her shoulder, its beady eyes darting around as it squawked, “Aye, ye lookin' fer trouble?”
The real shock, however, was who stood next to her.
Vander, fully embracing the look, had his own rugged weathered coat that seemed to ripple with mist. His black bandana, adorned with a silver skull, shifted designs with every movement. The boots he wore were sturdy and left faint trails of seafoam with each step, and a leather belt full of magical tools completed the ensemble. The duo, standing side by side, looked like they had stepped right off a pirate ship.
The group stared in stunned silence.
Jayce’s mouth dropped open, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Wait... Professor? You?” He looked from Vi to Vander, trying to process the sight. “How did she convince you?”
Vander let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head with a grin. “Sometimes, it’s good to let loose.”
With that, he turned and strolled off, leaving the group in complete shock. Vi stood proudly with a smug look on her face, watching the group’s reactions, clearly pleased with herself.
“Guess you all didn’t see that coming, huh?” she said with a teasing grin.
By midday, the castle had turned into a chaotic display of students in elaborate costumes, ghosts drifting through the halls with extra flair, and enchanted decorations shifting every few moments to spook the unsuspecting. Some professors even joined in the fun—Professor Grayson had been spotted walking the halls in a full Muggle football uniform, complete with cleats.
Silco, true to form, scowled at the festivities like they were a personal insult. Powder, ever the troublemaker, had taken this as a challenge, offering him a pair of fake vampire fangs with a massive grin on her face. She insisted he'd look great in them, but Silco barely spared them a glance before fixing her with a deadpan stare, muttering, "I don't need plastic to intimidate children."
By the evening feast, the excitement had settled, and most of the castle had returned to normal—except for one final surprise. Vi strolled up to where Headmaster Cassandra Kiramman was sitting, a mischievous grin playing on her face. Without saying a word, she placed a pair of cat ears in front of Cassandra. The two locked eyes for a brief moment, the tension palpable. After a beat, with a small, almost imperceptible sigh, she casually put the cat ears on and flicked her hand in Vi’s direction, silently dismissing her.
Across the hall, Caitlyn choked on her pumpkin juice.
Powder shoveled another spoonful of mashed potatoes into her mouth, barely pausing to chew as she spoke. “I can’t figure it out. The Protego charm just won’t stay in the housing. Every time I try, it keeps flickering out.”
Ekko furrowed his brow, looking at her over the rim of his glass. “You’re sure it’s not an issue with the charm's structure? Maybe the way the shield is being cast isn’t stable enough for the housing?"
“Yeah, I thought of that,” Powder mumbled between bites. “But I double-checked the matrix. Everything looks fine, the spell should stick. It’s like the charm’s rejecting it.”
Ekko leaned forward, tapping his chin. “What if the Protego isn’t being anchored properly? You know how charms can have a tendency to slip when there’s too much magic involved. Maybe you need to stabilize the initial cast before it can hold in the housing?”
Powder shook her head, waving her fork dismissively. “No, I’ve tried that already. It just... doesn’t hold. Something about the Protego doesn’t mesh with the other charms, even when I stabilize it.” She paused, chewing thoughtfully. “It's like the charm just refuses to be contained.”
Steb, a quiet fifth-year Ravenclaw, who sat beside Caitlyn, glanced up from his plate. “Maybe it's not the spell at all," he chimed in, his voice calm but direct. "What if the housing isn’t compatible with the charm?”
Powder raised an eyebrow, wiping some mashed potatoes from her chin. "But the Bombarda charm stored perfectly, and so did the Confringo."
Steb nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Exactly, offensive charms! Protego is defensive, it doesn't react the same way."
Powder's face lights up. "Steb, I could kiss you right now!" she exclaimed, barely containing her excitement.
Steb blinked. "I'd rather you didn't,"
Laughter rang out around them. A couple students down the table, a blonde Ravenclaw girl shot Powder a pointed glare. The air had shifted subtly, a reminder that tonight wasn’t just any ordinary night and house divisions were meant to be in full effect—it was the night the Goblet would choose its champions.
Suddenly, a silence fell over the room as Headmaster Kirraman stood at the front of the hall. She cleared her throat, and all eyes turned toward her.
"Students," Cassandra began, her voice steady and strong, "the Triwizard Tournament is upon us once again. A competition of skill, courage, and magic. Tonight, the Goblet of Fire will choose the champions who will represent their schools. Only those brave enough to face the trials ahead will earn the glory that comes with victory."
She paused, letting her words hang in the air, the weight of the moment sinking in. "This tournament is not for the faint of heart. Only those who possess the true heart of a champion will survive its challenges. And so, with great honor and anticipation, let us begin."
With that, Cassandra turned to the Goblet, her hand raised. The Great Hall fell into a hush, the only sounds the distant crackling of enchanted torches and the faint rustling of robes as students unconsciously leaned forward in their seats.
The Goblet of Fire sat upon its pedestal, ancient and imposing. The runes carved into its surface pulsed faintly, their magic woven deep into the grain of the aged wood. The blue fire within flickered, casting eerie, dancing shadows across the stone walls. It was eerily still for a moment—too still—like the castle itself was holding its breath.
Then, with a sudden flicker, the flames surged higher, burning brighter, shifting from a deep azure to an almost white-hot glow. A ripple of energy pulsed through the air, static crackling against the skin of those nearest to it.
A collective intake of breath swept through the hall.
The fire roared. Sparks shot into the air like tiny embers breaking free, and with a loud snap, a piece of parchment burst forth from the flames. It twisted and tumbled in the air for a heartbeat before Cassandra caught it in one smooth motion.
She held it up, her expression unreadable as her eyes scanned the name written upon it. The entire hall seemed frozen, anticipation pressing in like a physical weight.
At last, she spoke, her voice clear and ringing through the silence.
“The first champion… Gaten Crownguard of Beauxbatons!”
A wave of applause swept through the hall, excitement evident but controlled. The Beauxbaton students sat a little straighter, their claps crisp and deliberate, a harmonious blend of enthusiasm and elegance. A few exchanged proud smiles, and one or two gave graceful nods of approval. The cheer was undeniably strong, but refined.
Gaten, a tall and broad-shouldered seventh-year with neatly combed golden hair, rose gracefully from his seat. A proud but composed smile tugged at his lips as he adjusted his pristine blue uniform, smoothing the fabric as if to make sure he looked perfect. He strode toward the front with confidence, his chest puffed slightly but his demeanor still elegant—Beauxbatons through and through. He gave a small bow to Headmaster Kirraman before making his way to the champions' area.
The Goblet flared once more, and another parchment shot out. Cassandra plucked it from the air and read the name aloud.
"Our second champion—Sevika Harkov from Durmstrang!"
The reaction was immediate—an eruption of cheers and wild applause from the Durmstrang students. They slammed their fists against the table, stomping their feet in a boisterous, almost aggressive show of approval. A few even let out sharp whistles and hollers, their excitement untamed.
Sevika, a tall, heavily built seventh-year with a scar running down her cheek, smirked as she pushed herself up from the Durmstrang table. Unlike Gaten’s regal approach, she didn’t rush, nor did she bask in the attention—she simply strolled toward the champions' section with an easy, almost lazy confidence, like she had expected this all along. The firelight caught on the glinting metal of the rings on her fingers as she flexed her hand. Someone from Durmstrang bellowed her name again, and she shot them a lopsided grin before taking her place beside Gaten.
The Goblet’s flames roared, flickering wildly before spitting out the last scrap of parchment.
“The Hogwarts champion is… Marcus Voss!”
The Great Hall erupted. Cheers and applause rang from all corners, blending into an overwhelming wave of excitement. Students pounded the tables, whistles echoed, and voices shouted Marcus’ name. Even among those who had thrown their own names into the Goblet, there was a grudging acceptance.
At the Hufflepuff table, Marcus shot up from his seat, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. He was lanky but well-built, his movements full of barely contained energy. A wide grin stretched across his face, though it wavered slightly at the edges, betraying the nerves creeping in. He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his tousled dark brown hair, before setting his shoulders and striding toward the front of the hall.
The Goblet’s flames dimmed, the hall fell into a hushed silence, and the weight of the tournament’s trials loomed over them all.
The Gryffindor common room was abuzz with excitement as the group gathered to prepare for the late-night Halloween party. Streamers in bold orange and black hung from every corner, and jack-o'-lanterns flickered with eerie light.
Ekko and Mylo were stationed at the long table, sorting through an assortment of magical decorations that would make any muggle’s head spin.
“Ekko, I told you the inflatable ghost was supposed to go there,” Mylo pointed to a spot near the fireplace, his mustache twitching with mild annoyance.
“I think it’d be cooler closer to the door. Give it that dramatic entrance vibe, you know?” Ekko argued.
Meanwhile, Powder was trying her hand at some last-minute spooky snacks. She tossed a handful of dried bat wings into a cauldron, muttering a spell under her breath. “Just a little extra fizz should do the trick,” she grinned as the cauldron bubbled with neon-colored smoke. Powder's costume still caught eyes with its vibrant hues and oversized jacket, making her look both adorable and terrifying.
Vi stood near the door, watching the scene unfold with a satisfied grin on her face. Her parrot puppet, perched loyally on her shoulder, squawked loudly, its beady eyes darting around the room. “Aye, where’s the punch? Ye be needin’ it soon!”
With a sharp snap of her fingers, Vi pointed at the parrot, eyes dancing with excitement. Just then, the painting-door swung open, and in strutted a suit of armor.
Vi blinked, then raised an eyebrow as the suit of armor stepped forward and slowly pulled off its helmet, revealing none other than Lorris, a fifth year Hufflepuff. He reached inside the chestplate, pulling out several bottles of alcohol with a wink.
Behind him, Gert followed, her rucksack bulging suspiciously. With a sly grin, she pulled out a couple more bottles, one tucked under her arm and the other nearly spilling out of the bag.
"Think this is enough?" Lorris asked.
Vi gave him a smirk. "Nah, but we can work with it."
It was plenty
Meanwhile, in the Ravenclaw common room, Caitlyn sat slouched in an armchair, while Mel, stood arms crossed in front of her, an unimpressed look on her face.
"What do you mean you're not coming?" Mel asked, raising an eyebrow.
"It's not really my thing. Plus, as a prefect, it's bad for my reputation."
"Vi and Lorris are prefects, and they're both going to be there."
"Well…I don’t have an outfit."
"Darling, that is not a problem."
Caitlyn shook her head, the battle slipping away. "I don’t know…"
Mel leaned in, her voice softer but still persistent. "Live a little, Caitlyn. You’ll regret not coming."
Caitlyn stared at her for a long moment, her shoulders slumping with a resigned sigh. “Fine. I’ll go. But if this turns into a disaster, I’m blaming you.”
Mel gave a triumphant cheer, pulling the blue-haired girl to her feet.