I Know I Felt Like This Before
Thursday, 1 September 1994
The weather certainly knew summer had ended.
Rain was pounding on the windows of the Burrow as Harry got dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, he’d change into his school robes on the Express. He, Ron, Fred, and George had just arrived at the first-floor landing when Mrs. Weasley appeared yelling for Mr. Weasley. The boys pressed themselves as close to the wall as possible as Mr. Weasley came careening down the stairs.
While Mrs. Weasley dug around in a drawer to find a quill for Mr. Weasley to write a response to whatever message he’d received from the Ministry, Mr. Weasley was bending over the fire to talk to … was that Amos Diggory’s head in the fireplace? Magic never ceased to amaze Harry.
The pair were talking about something, likely something important but at the sight of Amos Diggory, all thoughts not about Cedric Diggory had fled Harry’s head.
Harry vaguely heard them talking about someone named Mad-Eye, but all he could think about was the fact that he’d get to see Cedric today. He zoned back in to the sound of Fred stifling a laugh and George putting on a rather exaggerated swooning act. It took everything in Harry to not shove them both down the last few stairs.
After a rather enlightening breakfast conversation about why Mad-Eye Moody is called Mad-Eye Moody and what, exactly, Aurors are, the Weasleys minus Percy plus Harry and Hermione headed to the Muggle village near the Burrow where Mrs. Weasley braved the pay phone to order taxis.
Thus ensued the strangest taxi ride Harry had ever been a part of, and likely the strangest taxi ride any of the drivers had been a part of what with the owls and Filibuster’s Fireworks going off in Fred’s trunk. Crookshanks, in particular, was not happy with the situation. By the time they arrived in London, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all severely scratched.
Despite the heavy downpour, they were all rather excited to exit the cars when they got to Kings Cross.
The only difficult part of entering Platform 9 ¾ (now that Harry was used to it) was doing it in a way that didn’t raise alarms for surrounding Muggles. Harry, Ron, and Hermione leaned against the platform entrance like they were chatting and then slid sideways through it, hoping no one had noticed them simply disappearing into thin air.
The Hogwarts Express, in all its gleaming scarlet glory, was already there, clouds of steam billowing from it, filling the platform with a fog that made everyone appear like dark ghosts from a distance. The air was filled with the hooting of owls and the sounds of families saying goodbye.
They made their way down the platform and said goodbye to Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie.
“I might be seeing you all sooner than you think,” Charlie said, grinning as he hugged Ginny.
Fred and George perked up like particularly excited puppies, “why?” Fred asked.
“You’ll see,” Charlie said, he had to know that he was egging them on. “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,” Bill added, hands in his pockets, looking wistfully at the train.
“Why?” George asked, sounding rather impatient.
“You’re going to have an interesting year,” Bill said, eyes twinkling at a near-Dumbledore level, boy the oldest two Weasleys were having fun with this. “I might even get a bit of time off to come and watch a bit of it…”
“A bit of what?” Ron asked, unable to hold himself back any longer.
But then, as if perfectly timed, the whistle blew and Mrs. Weasley all but picked them up and threw them on to the train.
“Thanks for having us to stay, Mrs. Weasley,” Hermione called as they climbed on board, leaning out the window to talk to her.
“Yeah, thanks for everything, Mrs. Weasley,” Harry added, his head popping up over Hermione’s shoulder.
“Oh, it was my pleasure, dears,” she responded, before joining the fun her oldest two sons had been having, “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!” Ron said, totally irritated now, “what d’you three know that we don’t?”
“You’ll find out this evening, I expect,” Mrs. Weasley said, smiling up at them as if she had no clue that any of them were frustrated, though the twinkle in her eye matched Bill’s, “it’s going to be very exciting – mind you, I’m very glad they’ve changed the rules –”
“What rules?” Harry, Ron, Fred, and George shouted back together.
“I’m sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you … Now, behave won’t you? Won’t you, Fred? And you, George?”
The pistons hissed loudly and the train began to move.
“Tell us what’s happening at Hogwarts!” Fred yelled out the window, “what rules are they changing?”
But Mrs. Weasley just smiled and waved and between one breath in the next, she, Bill, and Charlie had disapparated.
They’d just sat down in a compartment and Ron had thrown his horrific maroon dress robes over Pig’s cage to quiet him down when they heard a familiar drawling voice from the hallway, it appeared it was time for Malfoy’s annual visit to their compartment.
Well, it would have been if Hermione hadn’t gotten up and quietly slid their compartment door shut.
“So he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he?” Hermione said angrily, “I wish he had gone, then we wouldn’t have to put up with him.”
“Durmstrang’s another Wizarding school?” Harry asked.
“Yes,” Hermione said, before going on to explain that it was a school that put a rather large emphasis on the Dark Arts and explaining that no one knew where the school actually was.
“Come off it,” Ron said, 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,” Hermione said, “everyone knows that … well, everyone who’s read Hogwarts: A History, anyway.”
It was getting to the point where Ron and Harry hadn’t ready Hogwarts: A History solely so they could hear this lecture from Hermione every single time they asked a stupid question. It was almost principle at this point.
Turns out, Hogwarts just appears as a ruin with a Danger: Keep Out sign to any Muggle. Hermione told them she thought Durmstrang was probably somewhere in the far north, though, because their uniforms apparently have fur capes.
“Ah, think of the possibilities,” Ron said with a dreamy tone, “it would’ve been so easy to push Malfoy off a glacier and make it look like an accident, shame his mother likes him.”
The further the train moved north, the rainier and drearier the weather got. As the afternoon progressed, several of their friends came in to say hello. Seamus, Dean, and Neville all stopped by, the main topic of conversation was the World Cup so it didn’t take very long for Hermione to give up on the conversation and pull out The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, and start trying to learn a summoning charm.
“Gran didn’t want to go,” Neville sighed, rather jealous that he’d missed out on the World Cup, “wouldn’t buy tickets. It sounded amazing though.”
Harry found himself wishing that Neville had come with them. He’d gotten a lot closer to his godbrother over the past year. He was one of the only people in Harry’s life who was happy to just sit in silence. He’d never expected anything amazing from Harry, he just wanted to be his friend.
Ron was showing Neville his Viktor Krum figurine and talking about their time at the match when Harry realized they’d forgotten to close the compartment door.
“We were in the Top Box -” Ron was saying before he was cut off by that drawling, self-important voice.
“For the first and last time in your life, Weasley.” Draco Malfoy had appeared, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, both of whom appeared to have grown at least a foot over the summer.
“Don’t remember asking you to join us, Malfoy,” Harry said coolly.
“Weasley, what is that?” Malfoy said, pointing at Pig’s cage. A sleeve of Ron’s dress robes was visible, the moldy lace cuff very obvious. Ron tried to stuff the robes out of sight, but Malfoy was too quick.
“Look at this!” Malfoy said, sounding nearly ecstatic, holding up the dress robes to show Crabbe and Goyle, “Weasley, you weren’t thinking of wearing these were you? I mean – they were very fashionable in about 1890 …”
“Eat dung, Malfoy!” Ron said, the same color as the dress robes as he snatched them out of Malfoy’s grip. Malfoy and his goons were laughing. Malfoy then spent several minutes hinting at what he knew was going to happen at school this year. When they finally left, Ron got to his feet and slammed the sliding compartment door so hard behind them the glass shattered. Hermione quickly shot a Reparo toward the window and the glass shards flew back into place.
Harry then spent the rest of the ride listening to Ron and Hermione snap at each other before it was finally time to change into their school robes.
Harry called hello to Hagrid as they got off the train and they all shivered in sympathy as they realized the first years were going to have to ride boats across the lake in this weather.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville climbed into one of the hundred waiting horseless carriages and started their trek up to the castle. The wind was somehow getting harsher as they made their way up the path and when they finally made it inside and started to dry off, they were immediately soaked again by Peeves throwing water balloons.
“PEEVES!” a thick Scottish brogue yelled, “Peeves, come down here at ONCE!”
Professor McGonagall came dashing out of the Great Hall, skidding to a stop on the wet floor, and grabbing Hermione around the neck to stop herself from falling.
“Ouch, sorry, Miss Granger.”
“That’s alright, Professor,” Hermione said, massaging her throat.
They escaped into the Great Hall as McGonagall continued yelling at the resident poltergeist.
Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, appeared in front of them, “good evening,” he said, beaming at them.
“Says who?” Harry responded, taking off his sneakers and pouring the water out of them, “hope they hurry up with the Sorting, I’m starving.”
This was actually the first Sorting that Harry would be at since his own, with the flying car in 2nd year and the dementors on the train last year. He was actually looking forward to it, but he really was starving.
Just then, an excited and breathless Colin Creevey appeared out of nowhere, “hiya, Harry!”
“Hi, Colin,” Harry greeted back.
“Harry, guess what? Guess what, Harry? My brother’s starting! My brother Dennis!”
Colin was a great kid, really, but Harry wasn’t sure he’d ever had the amount of energy this kid displayed on a daily basis. It was honestly impressive.
“Er – good,” Harry responded, genuinely bewildered by the 3rd year who was practically bouncing in his seat.
“He’s really excited!” Colin said, “I just hope he’s in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Harry?”
Harry couldn’t decide whether he hoped Dennis was a Gryffindor so Colin got his way or hoped he’d be in one of the other three houses if he was anywhere near as energetic as Colin, he was a bit afraid the Tower might collapse if the chaos of the Weasley twins was compounded by the energy of the Creevey brothers.
Someone mentioned something about the Head Table looking empty and Harry spent the next few minutes analyzing the professors, trying to figure out who might be missing.
“Oh hurry up,” Ron moaned beside Harry, “I could eat a hippogriff.”
As if the universe were listening, the doors to the Great Hall banged open and Professor McGonagall entered with a line of firsties, one of whom was drowning in Hagrid’s moleskin overcoat. He looked around the hall and his face lit up when he found Colin. He gave a double thumbs-up and mouthed I fell in the lake! And to Harry’s surprise, he looked positively delighted by that fact. It was looking like they were going to have another Creevey lion by the end of the night.
The sorting began and Harry politely clapped for each name. When “Branstone, Eleanor!” was sorted Hufflepuff, Harry’s gaze swept up the table of yellow robes. He caught Cedric’s eye and was just about to look away when he realized the other boy was looking back and grinning. Harry thought for a second he might just be smiling at the Sorting in general, but the wink he shot Harry’s way dispelled that notion pretty quickly.
Harry snapped back to his surroundings when a sopping wet Dennis Creevey came tripping up to the table all but shouting, “Colin, I fell in! It was brilliant! And something in the water grabbed me and pushed me back in the boat!”
“Cool!” Colin said, just as excitedly, “it was probably the giant squid, Dennis!”
“Wow!” Dennis said, as though nobody in their wildest dreams could hope for more than being thrown into a giant magical lake in the middle of a raging storm and be pushed out by a massive sea monster.
Harry found himself hoping that Fred and George never took these two under their wing, the castle wouldn’t survive.
Finally, “Whitby, Kevin!” went to Hufflepuff and the Sorting ended. Ron picked up his knife and fork and stared art his plate, waiting for food to appear.
Sir Nick then just had to mention that there were house elves working in the kitchens which sent Hermione off on a trademarked rampage. She didn’t eat another bite of dinner and when Ron tried to get her to eat dessert she sent him a look that wouldn’t have been out of place on McGonagall, so he wisely gave up.
When the deserts disappeared, Dumbledore rose to his feet and gave his normal speech about banned objects and the Forbidden Forest being … forbidden before he announced that quidditch had been cancelled for the year.
Harry found himself thanking whatever deity might be listening that Oliver Wood had graduated the year prior because the fall out of that statement had he still been here would’ve been catastrophic.
But then, Dumbledore started to make an announcement about some event that would start in October. It was likely whatever everyone had been hinting at all day, but he was interrupted by a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Hall swinging open.
A grizzled wizard with dark gray hair and deep scars was standing in the doorway, leaning on a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step as he made his way to the staff table.
Dumbledore introduced the man as Mad-Eye Moody, the new DADA teacher.
Moody took a seat and one of his eyes, large and vivid, electric blue, began roving independently from the other eye. It scanned the hall and seemed to linger on Harry for a moment too long.
Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued his announcement, “as I was saying,” he said, smiling out at the sea of students, all of whom were still looking at Mad-Eye, “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!” Fred said, 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 …” Dumbledore said before continuing his explanation of the Tournament.
Harry was just rather excited that the age line meant he wasn’t going to be dragged into this year’s crazy.
* * *
Sunday, 30 October 1994
The next two months passed largely like normal, if you don’t count Moody both transfiguring Malfoy into a ferret and showing the Unforgiveable Curses to a bunch of 14-year-olds.
Harry also found himself continuously distracted by one Cedric Diggory.
They didn’t see each other all that often outside of meals, being in two different years, but it seemed like every time Harry looked toward the Hufflepuff table, Cedric was already looking at him. Harry felt a bit like he was going out of his mind. Hermione had cottoned on pretty quickly so now it wasn’t just the Weasley twins teasing him, but Hermione as well. Though at least she tended to evenly split her time between teasing and asking genuine questions about whether he had a crush, how he felt about having a crush on a boy, and reminding him that she loved him no matter what.
Hermione was a good friend.
Cedric had also had a pretty normal couple of months. Moody was clearly off his rocker, but that wasn’t necessarily new as far as DADA professors went. The professor his first year had literally killed a student so really nothing was too out of left field for that post.
What wasn’t exactly normal, though, was the amount of time he spent staring at Harry Potter. He probably would’ve told himself to stop being creepy if it hadn’t been obvious that Harry enjoyed the attention. Cedric really, really wanted to get over his nerves and actually approach the younger boy and make his intentions clear. It was obvious that he was going to have to spell it out, but he just hadn’t found the right opportunity (oh, alright, he was completely and utterly terrified to lay his feelings out but just let him pretend it’s a matter of opportunity).
Cho had noticed almost immediately and had taken to teasing Cedric relentlessly. She was lucky he loved her, otherwise she’d have found herself at the end of a powerful silencing charm.
It was the day the foreign schools were arriving, and the castle had been polished to a shine.
The schools’ arrivals were rather impressive, as was the feast they’d shared. Then Dumbledore presented the impartial judge which turned out to be a wooden cup. Something told Cedric that a cup might be a rather easy judge to fool, but he also wasn’t one to question ancient magical objects.
They’d have the next day to submit their names to the Goblet for a chance to be selected as their school’s Champion. Cedric had decided that he was going to enter, his father had been hinting at it over the summer and had outright suggested he enter in his more recent letters. Eternal glory sounded alright, but he was mostly doing it to make his father happy.
* * *
Monday, 31 October 1994
“Harry Potter,” Dumbledore called after he caught the surprise fourth slip of paper the Goblet had split out.
So much for avoiding this year’s crazy.