Chapter Three
The Great Hall: August 1994
The Greye siblings—Elizabeth, Madelynn, and Carter—sat together at the long, sunlit table in the Great Hall, enjoying a quiet breakfast before the excitement of the day unfolded. The hall hummed with anticipation, as the entire school knew that the other magical schools, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, were set to arrive today for the Triwizard Tournament.
Elizabeth absentmindedly stirred her porridge, glancing between her siblings as they talked. The air was filled with the smell of fresh bread and eggs, and there was a faint buzzing in the background, students chattering about the arrival of the other schools. It seemed as though no one could think of anything else.
"I still can't believe it's happening," Elizabeth said, glancing between Madelynn and Carter. "The Triwizard Tournament. I mean, no Quidditch, but... still."
Madelynn nodded as she sipped her tea, always the more composed of the three. "It's going to be fascinating. I'm curious to see what kind of champions the other schools will bring. Durmstrang has a reputation for being intense in their training."
"Yeah, but I just hope they're not as dramatic as people make them out to be," Carter said, leaning back in his chair with a slice of toast in his hand. "I mean, it's not like they're all walking around with fire-breathing dragons or something. It'll be interesting to see how they stack up against Hogwarts."
Elizabeth smiled at her brother's remark. "You're more excited about the tournament than I thought you'd be, considering you were more upset about no Quidditch."
Carter shrugged. "What can I say? This tournament might be the next best thing. Plus, I've been hearing people talk about all the crazy challenges past champions have faced. Might be worth watching just for the drama."
Madelynn smirked, brushing a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "It'll be a spectacle, no doubt. I just wonder what kind of tasks they'll come up with. They're meant to be dangerous, but hopefully, it's not too reckless. With all those students involved, there's no room for mistakes."
As they continued their conversation, the siblings' attention shifted as a familiar voice spoke up beside them.
"Mind if I join you?"
They all looked up to see Cedric Diggory standing near the end of their table, his usual warm smile on his face. His presence immediately brightened the atmosphere. Elizabeth felt her heart skip a beat, though she quickly reminded herself that it was just Cedric, her friend, someone she'd spent plenty of time with. Still, there was something about him that always made her a little more aware of herself.
"Of course," Elizabeth said, motioning to the empty seat next to her with a smile. "Sit with us."
Cedric slid into the seat, setting down his plate. "So, what are we all talking about? Let me guess... the tournament?"
Madelynn nodded. "What else? We were just saying how it's probably going to be one of the most exciting years Hogwarts has had in a long time."
Carter grinned, chiming in. "And dangerous. Don't forget that part. Have you thought about putting your name in, Cedric?"
Cedric looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Yeah, I've thought about it. It's a huge opportunity, isn't it? But, I don't know. There's a lot to consider."
Madelynn, ever the pragmatic one, leaned forward. "You'd definitely represent Hogwarts well. But you're right to be cautious. The risks are real."
"I know," Cedric said, nodding. "And it's not just about competing. There's something bigger about the whole thing. Representing the school, making sure you stay level-headed, knowing you've got people counting on you."
"Yeah, but can you imagine the glory if you win?" Carter added with a grin. "It's legendary stuff."
Cedric chuckled, shaking his head. "Always thinking about the glory, Carter."
The group shared a laugh, the conversation flowing easily among them. As they ate, the anticipation for the arrival of the other schools grew stronger, and the Great Hall buzzed louder with excitement.
Elizabeth found herself stealing glances at Cedric now and then, wondering if this year might turn out to be more eventful than she'd initially thought. There was something about the way he carried himself, the quiet confidence in his voice, that made her wonder if he truly would put his name in the Goblet of Fire. And if he did... well, she'd be rooting for him all the way.
As the morning wore on and the time for the arrival of their guests approached, the group finished their breakfast, their conversation circling back to the tournament. They were all eager to see what the day—and the year ahead—would bring.
The afternoon sun hung lazily over the Hogwarts grounds, casting warm golden light across the castle and its surrounding landscape. With classes not starting until the next day, the students had time to enjoy a rare day of leisure, and for Madelynn Greye, that meant hanging out with Fred and George Weasley.
The three of them had become close over the years, being in the same year and sharing many of the same classes. The twins had quickly embraced Madelynn as part of their mischievous circle, and while Fred treated her like another sibling—teasing, pranking, and occasionally sparring with her in their usual witty banter—George had always been... different. He was kind in a way that went beyond their usual jokes, his teasing softer, and his eyes lingered just a moment longer whenever they talked.
They now found themselves lounging by the Black Lake, the soft ripple of water in the background providing a serene soundtrack to their conversation. Fred was, unsurprisingly, full of energy, tossing pebbles into the lake and boasting about their latest schemes for skirting around the Triwizard Tournament's age limit.
"We've been working on a little something in the shop," Fred said with a wicked grin, flicking a stone across the surface of the water. "This time tomorrow, we'll be getting our names in that Goblet, no problem."
Madelynn, sitting cross-legged on the grass, raised an eyebrow. "And if Dumbledore catches you? I don't think he'll be so impressed with your ingenuity."
Fred laughed, leaning back on his elbows. "Oh, come on, Maddie, you know us. Getting caught is half the fun."
George, who was sitting a little closer to Madelynn, smirked at his brother's remark but shot a sideways glance at her. "Still, we can't have our favorite Slytherin getting dragged into it when it all goes wrong, can we?"
Madelynn smiled, nudging George with her elbow. "Please, George. I can handle myself. Besides, if anyone's getting caught, it'll be you two. You always go too far."
Fred pretended to be hurt. "Maddie, I'm wounded! You have so little faith in us!"
She grinned at him, rolling her eyes. "You're always up to something. I don't need to have faith; I just need to watch the explosions from a safe distance."
"Explosions are half the charm," Fred said proudly, throwing another stone into the lake before standing up and brushing off his pants. "I'm going to head back to the common room—see if Lee's up for a bit of mischief. You two coming?"
George hesitated for a moment. "Actually, I think I'll stay here for a bit."
Madelynn glanced at George, mildly surprised, but said nothing. Fred, ever oblivious to the subtleties around him, simply shrugged. "Suit yourself, mate. Maddie, if you get bored of George being all serious, you know where to find me."
Madelynn laughed. "I'll keep that in mind."
Fred gave them both a cheeky salute and strode off toward the castle, whistling a tune as he went. George and Madelynn were left in the warmth of the afternoon, the air between them quieter but comfortable.
For a few moments, they sat in companionable silence, watching the sunlight dance on the surface of the lake. Madelynn found herself enjoying the peace—something that didn't happen often when she was with the twins. Fred's constant need for action kept things lively, but George's presence was different. Calmer. More steady.
"So," Madelynn said, breaking the silence, "are you really going to try and sneak into the Triwizard Tournament?"
George shrugged, his eyes on the rippling water. "You know Fred. Once he gets an idea in his head, it's hard to talk him out of it."
"And what about you?" she asked, turning her head to look at him. "Is it really just Fred's idea?"
George smiled, but it was softer than usual, almost shy. "Maybe not entirely. I mean, it would be something, wouldn't it? Competing in something like that making Hogwarts proud. But honestly..." He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck, something he did when he was thinking.
"But honestly what?" Madelynn pressed gently.
George sighed, his gaze still fixed on the water. "Honestly, I'm more excited about, well, just spending time with everyone. With all the excitement, it's easy to forget the best part of Hogwarts is being here with the people you care about."
Madelynn raised an eyebrow. "You're getting sentimental on me, Weasley."
George chuckled, though his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "I guess so. Don't tell Fred. He'd never let me live it down."
She laughed, her smile warm. "Your secret's safe with me."
There was a brief pause before George turned to her, his eyes soft as he looked at her directly. "You know, Maddie, it's nice to just hang out like this. Away from all the chaos."
Madelynn felt something stir in her chest at the way he said her name, but she quickly brushed it off with a smile. "Yeah, it is. Sometimes I forget how peaceful it can be out here."
George nodded, and they settled back into the quiet. For the rest of the afternoon, they stayed by the Black Lake, enjoying the calm before the storm of the school year ahead. Neither of them spoke much, but the silence was comfortable.
The warm, cozy atmosphere of the Hufflepuff common room was perfect for unwinding after a long day. Elizabeth sat cross-legged on the plush, honey-colored rug in front of the fireplace, her ginger cat, Arnold, sprawled out lazily in front of her. The fire crackled softly, casting a gentle orange glow across the room, and the scent of wood smoke filled the air. She and her friends were laughing, trying to coax Arnold into chasing the small enchanted mouse Elizabeth had charmed to dart around the room.
"Come on, Arnold," Elizabeth said, giggling as the cat lazily swatted at the toy, showing very little enthusiasm for the game. "You're supposed to be a fierce hunter!"
Her friend Amelia, sitting beside her with a wide grin, shook her head. "I think Arnold's more of a lover than a fighter."
"Clearly," Elizabeth agreed, her smile growing as Arnold finally gave the toy a half-hearted bat before curling back into a ball of ginger fluff.
The soft hum of conversation filled the common room, with other Hufflepuff students scattered around, either reading by the fire or chatting in groups. The room, with its warm colors and earthy tones, always felt like a safe haven, a place to relax and enjoy the quiet moments between the bustle of classes and excitement of Hogwarts life.
As Elizabeth leaned back on her hands, content to simply enjoy the evening with her friends, the door to the common room opened, and in walked Cedric Diggory, flanked by a couple of his friends. The casual conversations in the room briefly died down as a few heads turned, though most were used to Cedric's presence by now. After all, he was something of a Hufflepuff star—a natural leader, kind, talented, and, of course, the school's golden Quidditch Seeker.
Elizabeth glanced up from Arnold, her eyes locking with Cedric's as he walked in. For a moment, the rest of the room seemed to fade, and they held each other's gaze a beat longer than usual. It was subtle, just the briefest flicker of connection, but something about it made Elizabeth's heart skip. There was a warmth in Cedric's eyes, the kind that made her feel seen, as if he was paying attention to her in a way that went beyond casual friendship.
A small smile tugged at Cedric's lips, one she returned instinctively, feeling a strange flutter in her chest that she couldn't quite explain. It wasn't the first time their eyes had met like that, but tonight, there was something different about the way the moment lingered. Her friends were too busy laughing about Arnold to notice, and for a second, it felt like it was just the two of them in the room.
"Hey, everyone," Cedric greeted, his voice smooth and familiar as he and his friends made their way into the common room, finding a spot by one of the couches.
Amelia, noticing Elizabeth's distraction, nudged her gently. "Someone's a little distracted," she teased in a low whisper, her eyes glancing pointedly at Cedric.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. "Oh, hush," she muttered, though the blush creeping up her neck gave her away. She quickly turned her attention back to Arnold, who was now batting at her hand instead of the toy mouse.
As Cedric settled down with his friends, his eyes flickered over to Elizabeth once more, catching her off guard again. This time, he gave her a small, playful raise of his eyebrows as if to say, You're always up to something fun over there, before turning back to his conversation. Elizabeth's cheeks warmed, and she bit her lip, trying to focus on her friends again, but her thoughts kept drifting back to the way Cedric had looked at her.
She wasn't sure what it meant—if it meant anything at all. But there was something in the air, a shift, subtle but undeniable, and it made her heart race just a little faster than usual.
Arnold chose that moment to lazily roll onto his back, showing off his soft belly and drawing a chorus of "aww"s from the group. Amelia reached out to give the cat a gentle rub, laughing at how content he seemed.
"He's got the right idea," Amelia joked. "Just relax and let the world pass you by."
As the day progressed, the Greye siblings, joined the rest of the school as they made their way outside to the vast Hogwarts grounds, the crisp autumn air filled with anticipation.
The Hogwarts students lined the pathways, standing shoulder to shoulder as they waited for the first sign of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. Elizabeth stood beside Madelynn and Carter, their eyes fixed on the sky and lake, knowing something extraordinary was about to happen.
Suddenly, the distant sound of rushing wind caught their attention. Everyone craned their necks to see a massive, ornate carriage appear from the horizon, descending from the sky as though it were floating on clouds. It was pulled by enormous winged horses, their silvery manes glittering in the sunlight.
Madelynn's eyes widened in awe as the carriage grew larger and larger until it was nearly the size of a small house. "That's... that's incredible," she murmured, momentarily forgetting her usual composed demeanor. Even in Slytherin, where grandeur wasn't unusual, the sight of the Beauxbatons' arrival was enough to leave her speechless.
Carter, always quick with a comment, grinned. "Now that's an entrance," he said, nudging Elizabeth. "I bet it's way more comfortable than the Hogwarts Express."
Elizabeth chuckled, her own eyes wide with wonder. "No kidding. Look at the size of those horses! What do you even feed creatures like that?"
As the magnificent carriage landed softly on the Hogwarts grounds, the door swung open, and the elegantly dressed students of Beauxbatons descended, their movements graceful and poised. The Beauxbatons' Headmistress, Madame Maxime, followed, towering over her students like a giantess—because, of course, she was.
"She's huge!" Carter whispered, his mouth slightly open in disbelief. "I'd hate to get on her bad side."
Madelynn shot him a look, her lips twitching with amusement. "You say that about most professors. But seriously, this is... impressive."
Just as the Hogwarts students were absorbing the grandeur of Beauxbatons, a new sound began to rumble through the air—a deep, unsettling groan that seemed to come from beneath the earth. The students turned their attention toward the Black Lake, the water rippling unnaturally.
The surface of the lake suddenly bubbled and frothed, and with a mighty splash, a tall, dark ship emerged from the depths, its sails dripping with water as though it had just risen from the ocean floor. The Durmstrang ship, eerie and formidable, cast a long shadow over the lake as it glided toward the shore.
Elizabeth gasped, her hand instinctively reaching for Madelynn's arm. "Is that a... ship?" she asked, her voice filled with disbelief.
"Looks like it," Madelynn said, her tone quieter, as though the sight of the ship had subdued even her usual sharpness. "They really know how to make an entrance, don't they?"
Carter's eyes were glued to the ship, his excitement palpable. "I've never seen anything like that in my life. They just rose out of the lake like it was nothing! Durmstrang's got style, I'll give them that."
The Durmstrang students emerged from the ship in neat formation, their dark cloaks billowing as they marched forward with precision. Viktor Krum, the world-renowned Quidditch player, led them, his stern expression sending ripples of awe through the crowd of onlookers. Carter nudged Elizabeth excitedly when he spotted Krum, but Elizabeth was still too captivated by the ship to fully register it.
The Great Hall buzzed with excitement as dinner was served, the warm glow of the floating candles above casting a soft light over the long tables. Every student seemed to be leaning forward slightly, their plates half-forgotten as they exchanged whispered speculations about the arrival of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang delegations. The Triwizard Tournament had already filled the air with an electric sense of anticipation, but tonight promised something special: the grand entrance of the visiting schools.
Madelynn, sitting with the Slytherins, glanced around the hall with a reserved but expectant look. Despite her usual composed demeanor, even she felt a thrill of excitement ripple through her. Across the hall, Carter at the Gryffindor table was leaning forward in his seat, practically bouncing with excitement. At the Hufflepuff table, Elizabeth sat between her friends, she craned her neck to look toward the entrance, wondering how the other schools would make their appearance.
Then, just as everyone had settled, the grand doors of the Great Hall creaked open with a slow, deliberate groan. A hush fell over the room, the only sound now being the flicker of the candles above and the soft clinking of plates as students turned toward the entrance.
The first to enter were the Beauxbatons students, led by their headmistress, Madame Maxime. They glided into the hall, a vision of elegance and beauty. The Beauxbatons girls were dressed in pale blue uniforms, their movements choreographed as they gracefully danced their way down the center of the hall, a soft breeze accompanying their entrance as butterflies seemed to flutter from their fingertips. It was as if they had brought spring with them, the air around them delicate and sweet.
Madelynn, despite her Slytherin exterior, couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in admiration. "Well, they certainly know how to make an entrance," she murmured to one of her housemates. She watched Madame Maxime, towering over the students, with a mix of curiosity and respect. Her elegance was undeniable, and Madelynn, always one for composure, felt a quiet appreciation for the Beauxbatons' display.
Across the hall, Carter's mouth dropped open in awe. "Blimey," he muttered under his breath, nudging the Gryffindor next to him. "They're practically floating." His excitement was palpable, and despite his boisterous nature, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the graceful procession.
At the Hufflepuff table, Elizabeth exchanged a look with her friends, her eyes wide. "That was magical," she whispered, feeling a strange sense of calm wash over her as the Beauxbatons students took their seats. She couldn't help but feel slightly envious of the way they carried themselves with such poise. It was like watching something out of a fairy tale.
But the magic didn't stop there. As soon as the Beauxbatons had seated themselves, the hall began to darken slightly, and a low, ominous rumble echoed through the room. Every head turned once again toward the doors, which now seemed to groan louder as they opened a second time.
The atmosphere changed instantly. The Durmstrang students marched in, their presence a stark contrast to the ethereal elegance of Beauxbatons. Clad in heavy furs and dark robes, they moved with precision and discipline, their staffs slamming down against the stone floor in rhythm. The fiery sparks that burst from their staffs illuminated the hall with flashes of red and orange, casting an intense glow across the students' faces. Their movements were sharp, controlled, and powerful—every step exuding strength.
Carter, sitting at the Gryffindor table, was completely enthralled. "Now that's how you make an entrance," he whispered, a grin spreading across his face. "That's what I'm talking about."
Elizabeth, meanwhile, couldn't help but feel a bit of awe mixed with apprehension as the Durmstrang students took their place. They were intimidating, no doubt about it, and the fire they conjured seemed to spark something electric in the air. She noticed Viktor Krum at the front of the group, his stern expression and reputation preceding him. "They're fierce," Elizabeth whispered to herself, her heart racing with excitement.
Madelynn, at the Slytherin table, watched the Durmstrang students with narrowed eyes, her analytical mind at work. "Durmstrang's more about power," she mused softly to herself, her gaze lingering on their headmaster, Igor Karkaroff. She had heard rumors about him—his past connections with dark magic—but she knew better than to judge too quickly. Still, the air of intensity that the Durmstrang students brought into the hall was palpable. Even she felt a shiver of anticipation.
As the Durmstrang students took their seats, the Great Hall fell into a buzzing hum of whispers, excitement threading through every corner of the room. The two schools had arrived, each making their presence known in a way that perfectly encapsulated their differences: grace and elegance from Beauxbatons, power and intensity from Durmstrang.
As the grand spectacle of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang entrances began to fade into the normal hum of the Great Hall, dinner resumed, and the students gradually returned their focus to their plates and conversations. Elizabeth was still buzzing from the excitement of it all, and the adrenaline coursing through her veins made her feel more awake than she had in weeks. She barely noticed the two Beauxbatons students approaching her table until they politely asked if the seats next to her were taken.
"Is it alright if we sit here?" came a soft, lilting voice with a French accent.
Elizabeth looked up to see Fleur Delacour, the girl who had led the Beauxbatons' grand entrance, standing with an air of grace beside her younger sister, Gabrielle. Both of them seemed a little out of place amid the warm, earthy tones of the Hufflepuff table, their pale blue uniforms catching the light in a way that made them seem to glow.
"Of course!" Elizabeth smiled, moving aside to make room. "Please, sit."
Fleur and Gabrielle settled into the seats beside her, and Elizabeth could feel the curious stares of her fellow Hufflepuffs. Fleur, already known for her beauty and presence, drew attention wherever she went, but Elizabeth noticed something more—there was a certain poise and elegance in how she carried herself that went beyond mere looks.
For a moment, there was a comfortable silence as they all focused on their plates, but Elizabeth had always been one to strike up conversation, especially when she saw an opportunity to make someone feel welcome.
Turning slightly toward Fleur and Gabrielle, she smiled warmly and spoke in fluent French. "Je suis Elizabeth. Ça doit être un grand changement pour vous, venir ici à Poudlard. Comment trouvez-vous l'école jusqu'à présent?" I'm Elizabeth. It must be quite a change coming to Hogwarts. How are you finding the school so far?
Fleur's eyebrows raised slightly, clearly surprised but pleasantly so. Her lips curled into a gracious smile, and she responded with ease. "C'est différent de Beauxbatons, mais c'est... charmant, à sa manière." It's different from Beauxbatons, but it has its own charm.
Gabrielle nodded, her eyes wide and curious as she looked around the vast hall. "C'est immense ici." It's so big here.
Elizabeth chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Oui, c'est vrai. L'école est énorme, et je pense que même après plusieurs années, je n'ai pas encore exploré tous les recoins." Yes, that's true. The school is enormous, and I think even after several years, I haven't explored all its corners.
As the conversation continued, Elizabeth found herself easily slipping into French, glad that the lessons she and her siblings had taken growing up were coming in handy. It wasn't often that she got to use the language at Hogwarts, and it felt natural now, like rediscovering a hidden talent.
Across the room, unnoticed by the girls at first, Cedric sat at the Hufflepuff table with his friends, his attention ostensibly on the conversation around him. Yet his gaze kept drifting toward Elizabeth, watching as her eyes lit up with enthusiasm while she spoke in French. There was something captivating about the way she carried herself when she spoke the language, her confidence shining through.
From his vantage point, Cedric could see her smile widening as Fleur responded, her hands moving expressively as she spoke. It wasn't just the novelty of hearing French spoken in the Great Hall—it was the way Elizabeth seemed to come alive when she engaged with the Beauxbatons students, her natural warmth drawing them in.
His friend nudged him lightly. "Cedric, mate, you've barely touched your dinner."
Cedric blinked, snapping out of his thoughts and offering a sheepish grin. "Sorry, just... distracted."
"Yeah, I noticed," his friend teased, glancing toward Elizabeth before raising an eyebrow knowingly. "She's good with languages, isn't she?"
Cedric didn't respond right away, turning his attention back to his plate as he mulled over the conversation he'd half overheard. It wasn't just that Elizabeth was good with languages—there was something more. The way her laugh carried across the table, the way her smile seemed to brighten the room. He tried to focus on his dinner, but his gaze kept being drawn back to her.
Back at the table, Fleur seemed impressed with Elizabeth's command of French. "Vous parlez très bien," You speak very well, she complimented, her eyes shining with admiration.
Elizabeth smiled modestly. "Merci, c'est surtout grâce à ma famille. Mes frères et sœurs et moi avons grandi en apprenant le français." Thank you, it's mostly thanks to my family. My siblings and I grew up learning French.
As Elizabeth mentioned her siblings, she glanced toward the Slytherin table where she could just see the back of Madelynn's head and then toward Carter at the Gryffindor table, who was laughing about something with his housemates.
Fleur followed her gaze and nodded, her expression thoughtful. "C'est bon d'avoir cette connexion familiale. Je pense que ça rend l'expérience à Poudlard encore plus spéciale." It's good to have that family connection. I think it makes your experience at Hogwarts even more special.
Elizabeth nodded in agreement, her heart warmed by the conversation. She enjoyed connecting with others in a way that felt personal, and it was clear that Fleur, despite her outward elegance, appreciated sincerity.
As the conversation continued, Elizabeth could still feel Cedric's gaze on her occasionally, even though she pretended not to notice. Each time she caught him looking, her heart would do a little flip, and she'd have to remind herself to stay focused on the conversation at hand. But the warmth in his eyes when he watched her was unmistakable.
Madelynn Greye, with her usual composed demeanor, found herself in an unexpected position during dinner that evening. The grand tables of Hogwarts had been shuffled slightly to accommodate the visitors from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, and as fate would have it, Madelynn was now seated beside none other than Viktor Krum, the renowned Bulgarian Seeker from Durmstrang.
She didn't show it, but she was slightly taken aback by his presence. Krum was famous, not just in the world of Quidditch but within Hogwarts too, thanks to his stoic and formidable reputation. Despite the awe surrounding him, Madelynn knew better than to be starstruck. She had spent years maintaining a certain calmness and sharp wit, even in the company of Hogwarts' most influential students. But even so, as she stole a glance at the famous Quidditch player beside her, she couldn't help but feel a bit curious.
Viktor, sitting with his usual hunched posture, seemed awkward in the setting, as if he were more comfortable on a broomstick than at a dining table surrounded by students eager to catch a glimpse of him. His expression was serious, but there was a quietness to him that made Madelynn reconsider the image she had in her head.
Their plates had been served, but neither spoke for a moment, caught in the hum of conversation surrounding them. Madelynn decided to break the silence.
"You're quite the Seeker," she said, her voice calm but curious, referring to his Quidditch prowess. "I saw you play in the World Cup."
Krum glanced at her, his dark eyes narrowing slightly in thought before he nodded. "Ah. You like Quidditch, then?"
Madelynn smiled faintly, amused by how simple his question was. "I don't just like it, I play it. I'm a Beater for Slytherin."
That caught his attention. His head turned a little more toward her now, his expression softening just slightly. "A Beater? That's tough. Good position."
She nodded, feeling slightly more at ease now. "It is. You have to be aggressive but careful. Just like a Seeker. You have to know when to strike."
Viktor's brow furrowed as he considered her words, his fingers absently twisting the edge of his napkin. "Ja, is true. Many think Seeker only looks for Snitch, but it is more. Have to see everything, not just Snitch."
Madelynn was surprised. His English was a bit broken, but it didn't hide the fact that he was more thoughtful than people gave him credit for. His demeanor made him seem distant or even uninterested, but the way he spoke about Quidditch revealed a depth of understanding. She appreciated that.
"I agree," she said, leaning in slightly. "People think Quidditch is all about brute force or speed, but it's a mental game too. Strategy. You have to anticipate what the other team's going to do and be one step ahead. Especially when you're a Seeker."
Viktor gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. "Yes. I like that. It's not just about catching Snitch first. Is... everything."
They continued their conversation, diving deeper into the mechanics of Quidditch—tactics, favorite plays, and even memorable matches they'd both seen or participated in. Despite Viktor's seemingly reserved personality, Madelynn found that when he spoke about Quidditch, his passion came through. His words were thoughtful, deliberate, and there was a genuine respect for the sport that resonated with her own love for it.
At one point, Viktor leaned forward, lowering his voice slightly. "Do you vant to try for professional team? After Hogwarts?"
Madelynn hadn't expected him to ask her that. She paused for a moment, considering her answer. "I've thought about it," she admitted. "I'd love to play professionally, but I'm still weighing my options. What about you? I mean, you're already there, but will you continue with your career after Durmstrang?"
Viktor looked thoughtful, his eyes drifting toward his plate for a moment before he answered. "Yes. Quidditch is... everything for me. I will play until I cannot anymore."
Madelynn nodded, sensing that for him, Quidditch was not just a game but a calling. "I get that. There's something about being on a broom, the rush of the wind... everything just disappears, and it's you and the game."
Viktor's gaze softened slightly, and he nodded in agreement. For a moment, they both sat in silence, their connection unspoken but understood. Though their conversation had started off somewhat stilted, it had transformed into a genuine exchange between two people who deeply appreciated the same thing.
The Great Hall was buzzing with anticipation as Barty Crouch Sr. stood before the gathered students, preparing to explain the rules of the Triwizard Tournament once again. The candles floated above, casting a soft light over the room, but just as Crouch opened his mouth to speak, something strange began to happen.
The enchanted ceiling, normally mimicking the weather outside, darkened abruptly. The clear night sky turned into a swirling mass of storm clouds, and the gentle glow of the stars was replaced by ominous flashes of lightning. The sudden change in atmosphere sent a ripple of unease through the hall, with students exchanging confused looks.
Elizabeth Greye, sitting at the Hufflepuff table, glanced up, her eyes widening as a bolt of lightning streaked across the sky. "What in the world?" she muttered, her hand instinctively resting on her lap, as if bracing for something. She exchanged a glance with her siblings across the hall—Madelynn at the Slytherin table and Carter with Gryffindor. They all felt it—something was about to happen.
At the same time, the heavy rear doors of the Great Hall suddenly flew open with a loud bang, slamming against the walls with such force that the sound echoed across the room. Every head whipped toward the entrance as the cold air from the outside whipped through the hall. Standing there, framed by the doorway and illuminated by the flashes of lightning behind him, was a man with a distinct, rugged presence.
Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody.
He stepped forward, his heavy, worn boots making solid thuds against the stone floor. His face was a patchwork of scars, his magical, electric-blue eye whirling around in its socket with unsettling precision as it scanned the room. His wooden leg clicked with each step, and his long, weather-beaten coat billowed around him, making him look every bit the battle-hardened Auror that he was known to be.
Moody. The Greye's knew him well—he was a close friend of their father, Christopher Greye, and had been around their family for as long as they could remember. But seeing him here, at Hogwarts, in this dramatic fashion? It was a shock.
At the Slytherin table, Madelynn's sharp eyes followed his every movement. She knew Moody's reputation well, not just as a fierce and legendary Auror, but also as a family friend who had often sat around their dinner table, sharing stories of his past missions with her father. Her expression was calm, but she couldn't hide the flicker of intrigue and concern in her eyes. "What's Moody doing here?" she whispered to the Slytherin beside her.
Meanwhile, Carter was practically bouncing in his seat at the Gryffindor table, his excitement barely contained. "Moody!" he whispered to the friend next to him, his voice filled with admiration. "That's Mad-Eye Moody! He works with my dad—he's one of the best Aurors out there!"
The entire hall seemed to be holding its breath as Moody made his way down the center aisle, his magical eye swiveling in every direction, taking in the students, the teachers, and even the enchanted ceiling. Whispers broke out at every table, and the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students leaned in to ask who this strange, scarred man was. The Gryffindors, especially, were buzzing with excitement. After all, it wasn't every day that a legendary Auror walked into Hogwarts.
When Moody finally reached the head of the hall, he extended his hand, giving Professor Dumbledore a firm handshake. "Albus," he growled in his signature raspy voice.
Dumbledore smiled warmly, though there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Alastor, thank you for joining us."
Dumbledore then turned to the room, his voice carrying over the noise of the murmuring students. "For those of you who are unfamiliar, this is Alastor Moody. He will be joining us this year as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."
Moody turned to face the students, his expression as hard as granite, but there was a glimmer of something behind those mismatched eyes—determination, perhaps, or maybe a challenge to those who dared cross him.
"Constant vigilance," Moody muttered, almost as if to himself, but the words carried through the hall, sending a shiver down many of the students' spines.
Dumbledore clapped his hands together, drawing the attention back to him. "Barty, as you were saying."