Chapter 17
The Great Hall of Hogwarts buzzed with excitement as the final remnants of the welcoming feast disappeared from the golden plates. The enchanted ceiling above reflected the clear autumn night, stars twinkling against the vast darkness. Students sat contentedly, their stomachs full, eagerly awaiting the traditional start-of-term announcements from their venerable headmaster.
At the staff table, Albus Dumbledore rose from his seat, the usual twinkle in his eyes as he surveyed the gathered students. The hall quieted almost instantly, anticipation rippling through the four house tables.
"Welcome, my dear students, to another year at Hogwarts!" he began, his voice effortlessly carrying through the vast chamber. "I trust you have all enjoyed your feast and are ready for yet another year of learning, adventure, and—on occasion—some mischief."
A few chuckles and knowing glances passed between certain students at the last remark, but they quickly refocused as Dumbledore continued.
"Now, before we all retire to our dormitories, I have an announcement of great importance—one that will make this year truly extraordinary."
Silence stretched across the hall, every eye locked onto the headmaster.
"This year, Hogwarts has been granted the honor of hosting the Triwizard Tournament!"
The Great Hall erupted into noise. Gasps, murmurs, and excited whispers spread through the students like wildfire. Even the older students, who had heard tales of the legendary competition, were caught off guard. The younger students, particularly the first years, looked around in confusion, trying to grasp the significance of the announcement.
Dumbledore allowed the excitement to settle before raising a hand for silence, his expression growing more serious.
"However, I must stress that this is no ordinary competition. For centuries, the Triwizard Tournament has stood as a test of courage, intellect, and magical prowess. Champions from each participating school will face a series of challenges, designed to push them to their very limits. Due to the dangers involved, only students who have reached the age of seventeen will be eligible to place their names into consideration."
A few groans and muttered complaints arose from the younger years, but they quickly hushed as Dumbledore pressed on.
"Now, some of you may be expecting to see our usual esteemed competitors from Durmstrang Institute and Beauxbatons Academy. However, this year, the tournament will be a bit... different."
A murmur of confusion spread through the hall. Students exchanged puzzled looks, while some leaned forward in their seats with curiosity.
"This year, we will be welcoming students from two distinguished institutions: Gwaneum Academy of Sorcery from South Korea, and Rentier-Cleveland University from the United States."
The reaction was immediate—bewilderment rippled through the students, some exchanging blank stares while others erupted into hushed conversations.
"What? Never heard of them."
"Where even is Gwaneum Academy?"
"Rentier-Cleveland... University? Aren't universities for older wizards?"
Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling as he anticipated the confusion. "I understand that these names may not be familiar to you. Unfortunately, it seems Professor Binns has been somewhat... selective in his coverage of international magical history."
A few chuckles rippled through the hall, particularly from those who had endured years of the ghostly professor’s droning lectures on goblin rebellions.
"Allow me to provide a brief introduction. Gwaneum Academy of Sorcery, located in South Korea, is one of the most prestigious magical institutions in East Asia, renowned for its emphasis on martial magic and spiritual enchantments. Their students are disciplined and highly skilled in both wand magic and traditional Eastern magical practices."
The students listened with rapt attention, some whispering excitedly about what kind of magic these newcomers might bring to the competition.
"Rentier-Cleveland University, on the other hand, is the foremost magical institution in North America, known for its pragmatic approach to magic, supernatural combat training, and rigorous academic studies. Unlike Hogwarts, it operates on a university system, admitting both younger and older students who show aptitude in various magical disciplines."
Another wave of murmurs rippled through the hall. The idea of a university competing in the Triwizard Tournament was an unusual one, but the mention of supernatural combat training piqued the curiosity of many.
Dumbledore spread his hands, his voice warm yet firm. "These competitors will challenge not only our champions but also our understanding of magic itself. I encourage you all to welcome them with open minds and to embrace the opportunity to learn from them as much as they will learn from us."
With that, he let the weight of his words settle over the crowd before clapping his hands. "Now, off to bed with you! A great year awaits."
The students slowly rose, their chatter still abuzz with speculation and curiosity as they made their way to their respective dormitories. The Triwizard Tournament had returned—but this time, it was unlike anything Hogwarts had seen before.
The mirror flickered to life, the faint shimmer of magic dancing across its surface before solidifying into the grinning face of Sirius Black. His grey eyes twinkled with mischief as he leaned closer, inspecting Harry with exaggerated scrutiny.
"Merlin’s beard, kiddo, you look taller. What are they feeding you over there? Dragons?" Sirius teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
Harry rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile spreading across his face. "It’s called proper nutrition, Sirius. Maybe you should try it sometime."
Sirius gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "Betrayed by my own godson! The horror! I suppose I’ll just waste away eating the subpar cooking Kreacher begrudgingly makes for me."
Harry chuckled. "Oh no, anything but that. Kreacher’s cooking must be absolute torture."
"You have no idea," Sirius replied, shaking his head before his expression softened. "Really, though, how are you?"
Harry leaned back slightly, resting his elbow on the table. "I’m good. School’s been intense, but nothing I can’t handle. The professors are brilliant—strict but fair. I feel like I’m actually learning things that will help me in the real world."
Sirius nodded approvingly. "That’s good to hear. I always worried about Nāga-Kṣetra Vidyalaya not preparing students for actual life beyond its walls"
Harry rolled his eyes, as he lived in the jungle all his life, this was a different way to live in his opinion.”
“So, how's Nagini?” Sirius asked curiously.
“Mom’s doing well, she’s looking towards getting her medical/healers degree this year before trying for a more veterinarian healer degree to help those animals in our mangrove.”
“Hopefully she doesn’t go as nuts as Newt Scamander has gone with Magizoology, don’t think I’ll survive with my sanity intact if your mother starts using really high end healer jargon.” Sirius said.
“SIRIUS! MOM IS NOT THAT BAD!” Harry whined at him, acting it up because he loved his mom but even things that Newt said went over his head.
Sirius chuckled. "Alright, alright, I’ll behave. But really, I’m glad you’ve got people you can rely on. And if anyone gives you trouble, let me know. I can be very persuasive."
Harry smiled, warmth spreading through his chest. "I know. And thanks, Sirius. It means a lot."
Sirius sobered for a moment, his gaze gentle. "Of course, kiddo. You’re not alone, you know that, right? No matter what happens, you’ve got me and your mother, as well as the Patils looking out for you."
Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. "Yeah. I know."
Sirius clapped his hands together, breaking the heavy moment. "Well, enough of that sentimental rubbish. Tell me, any exciting mischief happening over there? Any pranks I should be aware of?"
Harry laughed, launching into a story about a harmless trick someone had pulled on one of the professors.
"So, get this—one of the older students enchanted Professor Amarachandra’s chalk to scream every time he wrote on the board. He spent half the lesson trying to figure out which student was responsible, but the charm kept jumping from piece to piece, like it had a mind of its own. Eventually, the entire chalkboard started wailing like a banshee, and he just stood there rubbing his temples."
Sirius burst into laughter, slapping his knee. "Brilliant! That’s exactly the kind of harmless chaos a school needs. I hope you were involved."
Harry grinned. "Not this time, but I might have helped keep the culprit’s identity a secret. You’d have been proud."
"That’s my godson! I taught you well." Sirius smirked before tilting his head thoughtfully. "Still, you’re sure you’re doing alright? No trouble from anyone?"
Harry hesitated for only a second before shaking his head. "No trouble. Just... adjusting. It’s different here, no need to worry about being attacked at night. No worrying about poachers attacking the grove. Its rather great and different here.”
Sirius nodded, his expression unreadable for a moment before he sighed. "You deserve that, Harry. A chance to just be a kid, even if it's at a school where they expect you to fight supernatural creatures for exams."
Harry chuckled. "It’s not that bad. Well, most of the time."
Sirius leaned in conspiratorially. "And what about your Mother? Has Nagini been hovering over you like a proper mother hen, correction, Serpent that she is??"
Harry rolled his eyes, jokingly replying, "She checks me over after every sparring session like I’m made of glass. If I so much as wince, she acts like I’ve been mortally wounded."
Sirius barked out a laugh. "Sounds like a proper mother to me. You might be the only wizard in history being raised by a giant magical snake, but I’d wager she’s just as protective as any mum with two legs."
Harry smiled, the warmth of the sentiment settling comfortably in his chest. "Yeah... she always has been for me, Sirius.."
Sirius smirked. "See? That’s what I like to hear. Now, one last thing before I let you go—are you keeping up with your pranking potential, or do I need to mail you some inspiration?"
Harry laughed. "I think I’m managing just fine. But I’ll let you know if I ever need some expert advice."
Sirius grinned. "That’s my boy. Now, go on and get some rest before Nagini decides you’ve spent too much time talking to your reckless godfather. I’ll check in again soon."
Harry smirked. "Looking forward to it. Night, Sirius."
"Night, kiddo. Sweet dreams—and cause some trouble for me."
With a final flicker, the magical mirror dimmed, and Harry set it down with a smile still lingering on his lips. The weight in his chest had lightened, a reminder that no matter how far apart they were, he had someone in his corner.
He wasn’t alone. He’s got a bigger family now that cares for him.
The arrival of the two competing schools was nothing short of awe-inspiring, shaking the very foundations of Hogwarts’ expectations and leaving students and faculty alike in stunned silence at the sheer magnitude of magic and power on display.
A deep, resonating rumble echoed across the Black Lake, an ancient and primal sound that seemed to vibrate through the very stones of the castle. The water, which had been still only moments before, began to churn violently, as if something immense was stirring from the depths. The moonlight above flickered as a colossal shadow loomed beneath the surface. Then, with a mighty surge, the behemoth rose.
Cascading torrents of water streamed from its shell as the legendary snapping turtle of Gwaneum Academy of Sorcery made its grand entrance. Barnacle-encrusted and weathered by time, the titan carried upon its back an awe-inspiring fortress, a moving citadel that had traversed the world’s oceans for centuries. Its fortress bore the unmistakable influence of ancient Korean architecture—tiered pagoda towers crowned with eaves that curled skyward, their dark wood intricately carved with arcane inscriptions that pulsed faintly in the night. The very structure seemed imbued with the essence of the elements, its stone pathways glistening with protective enchantments, its floating lanterns radiating an ethereal blue light that shimmered like ghostly fire. Mist curled between the wooden beams, shifting like living tendrils, whispering in tongues long forgotten.
The great turtle itself was a sight beyond reckoning. Its moss-covered shell bore centuries of magical reinforcement, and its ancient, glowing eyes reflected an intelligence far beyond that of a mere beast. As it exhaled, the sound was akin to a rolling storm, its breath alone sending powerful ripples across the lake’s surface. The beast turned its massive head toward the castle, as if acknowledging the ancient school before it, an unspoken greeting between relics of the past.
Yet, as the crowd stood entranced by this ancient marvel, the sky above roared with the arrival of something far different—something new, something forged not in nature, but in the crucible of human ingenuity.
A low, ominous hum reverberated through the air, a frequency that seemed to seep into the bones of those who heard it. A moment later, the stars themselves were blotted out as an immense, mechanical shadow descended from the heavens. The flagship of the Rentier Institute’s airship fleet had arrived, a monolithic fusion of steel, magic, and war.
The airship was a fortress in its own right, a leviathan of reinforced riveted plates that glowed faintly with protective enchantments. Turreted gun emplacements lined its hull, their barrels moving with calculated precision, scanning for unseen threats. The ship’s nose bore the unmistakable emblem of the Rentier Institute—a sigil that spoke of relentless pursuit and eradication of the supernatural. Twin smokestacks expelled controlled plumes of enchanted steam, while great propulsion funnels channeled raw magical energy into the ether, keeping the vessel aloft with eerie, unerring precision.
The sheer firepower of the vessel was staggering. Seven penta-turreted battleship cannons were mounted along its top deck—four facing forward, three guarding the aft—while five additional turrets rested along its underside, ensuring total coverage. These massive weapons hummed with latent energy, their barrels engraved with intricate runic etchings designed to amplify destructive spells. Supporting the main turrets were dual-mounted anti-aircraft cannons, their sleek barrels moving fluidly, protecting the larger artillery with unwavering vigilance. Along the length of the vessel, spherical plasma turrets crackled with barely restrained energy, their cores pulsing with raw arcane force.
The very air seemed to vibrate with the ship’s presence, sending gusts of displaced wind howling over the castle battlements, rattling the banners and torch flames of Hogwarts.
Then, with an electrifying crack of lightning, a figure materialized on the forward observation deck of the airship.
Headmaster Jonathan Whitmore of Rentier-Cleveland University stood with effortless confidence, his stance relaxed yet imposing. He wore the standard Rentier veteran outfit, but his was far from pristine—battle-worn leather reinforced with enchanted steel, a coat lined with insignias marking his past victories, his very presence a testament to the dangerous life he had led. His piercing gaze swept the landscape before him, taking in the towering spires of Hogwarts, the massive snapping turtle fortress, and the sea of bewildered faces below.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Well," he murmured to himself, his voice low, rich with humor and curiosity, "this should be interesting."
The sky above Hogwarts remained split between the forces of the arcane and the technological, of mystical tradition and calculated warfare, as the Triwizard Tournament’s newest challengers marked their arrival—setting the stage for an unprecedented clash of ideologies, magic, and ambition.