The triwizard tournament
When riding the Hogwarts express, most sleep, chat or play games.
But Regulus thinks. He thinks about Hogwarts. About freedom.
He sits in his own carriage and thinks about relief, about relaxing without paranoia. About his friends who he’d see at dinner. About his brother who’d found happiness elsewhere, just out of Regulus’ reach but still in his veiw, still letting some of his light bleed into Regulus’ brain once in a while.
he lets his mind drift to anything that is not Walburga Black. A privilege he seldom has.
***
There was an edge of jitteriness to the teachers in addition to the new year which regulus pondered over as he entered the great hall.
His feet stuttered for a second as he took in the new hall layout with elongated tables. Everyone seemed to guffaw at this, wondering how many first years were expected. That was found out about ten minutes later when the first years were led swiftly into the hall, about thirty of them as usual. So why the sudden interior redecoration?
The sorting was moved through briskly as if they were trying to get it over with as soon as possible.
“Well,” Dumbledore clapped his hands, “I give a warm welcome to the first years, and to returning students. I’m sure the new layout is on a lot of people’s minds so I am pleased to finally tell you this piece of information.”
The dick
“This year, for the first time in so long, Hogwarts has the honour of hosting the triwizard tournament.”
Whispers broke out across the hall as people hushed their shock or conversation.
“Silence! As I assume some of you know, the triwizard tournament is a series of games participated in by three chosen wizards from one each school: Hogwarts, Durmstrung and Beuxbatons. So with that I welcome the beauxbatons students!”
The great hall door opened and a flurry of blue silk filled regulus’ eyes as the pupils filtered in. There were a few girls dancing down the isles and two boys doing what seemed to be a form of gymnastics on brooms, all of them looking very elegant. Regulus made eye contact with a blond boy who must have been part Veela because he had to dig his palms into his hands so his mind stayed to itself.
Dumbledore kissed the hand of a very large woman who seemed to be the schools headmaster.
“Thank you for welcoming us into your home Albus,” the woman said with a thick French accent. Dumbledore smiled and whispered something to her before turning back to the school.
“And Durmstrung!”
He heard them before he saw them. A large group of men came banging into the great hall, thumping their canes with hides of fur cascading down their backs. Some of them were breathing fire, others juggling knives. Regulus immediately hated them, they reminded him of gryffindors.
Once all of the newest arrivals had all settled to their respective tables, Durmstrung at slytherin and ravenclaw and Beuxbatons at Gryffindor and hufflepuff, Dumbledore continued.
“Now now, I know you’re all excited for the tournament but there are a few rules I must go over. First and foremost, no one under the age of seventeen must enter the games.”
“What? that’s ridiculous!”
“Come on!”
“Surely not?!”
Outraged shoutes wrung across the hall as Dumbledore was interrupted. If he was honest, Regulus couldn’t care less.
“AND!” Dumbledore silenced “There will be no quidditch games this year.”
Now he cared. He suddenly felt a deep dislike for the games. They seemed to him, unnecessary and inconvenient. Regulus stayed impassive to the onlooker through the rest of Dumbledore’s speech -mainly just housekeeping- and the meal. At the end of the meal, Dumbledore captured everyone’s attention once more, “if you wish to enter the tournament, you are to put your name into the goblet that will be placed in the great hall tomorrow, although take heed, if your name is pulled out of the goblet on Wednesday evening you cannot back out, the games will prevail whether you change your mind or not.” With that warning, Regulus left the hall, thinking about the upcoming year and how shitty it would be without quidditch.
Everyone seemed worked into a frenzy over the goblet, some people waking up early to go and see who would put their names in, including Evan and Barty.
“Because it’s stupid.”
“So you have no curiosity at all as to who will participate?” Evan asked, on the way to potions.
“None. At. All.”
“Yeah Evan, you know he only cares about quidditch and schoolwork,” Barty added laughing at Regulus’ stubbornness
“I do not!”
Pandora Suddenly appeared behind them, “You do a bit, love. Sorry. But if it makes any difference I agree with you. I have no interest in the tournament, I’ve read about it, I think it’s too dangerous. Do you know that people died the last time the games were held? It’s barbaric.”
That wasn’t exactly Regulus’ point but he took it.
***
Wednesday evening rolled around quickly, everyone gossiping about who’d put their names in. And as he found out -courtesy of Evan and his rambling- only five had from Hogwarts: Mathilda Abbot, Aegis Struthers, Cadmus Burke, Cedrella Greengrass and James Potter. It was stupid but everyone knew who was best fit for the games out of the bunch.
Regulus filed in with his friends on Wednesday evening, the hall had been arranged into a stadium-esk setup with the goblet in the middle. He took a seat nearest the door, hoping it wouldn’t last too long and fanaticising about lying in bed until supper.
“Good evening,” Dumbledore stood in the middle of the benches with the minister, McGonagall, Flitwick, Slughorn and Sprout all standing close behind, “I shan’t chatter on for too long as I’m sure you’re all keen to find out who our contestants will be. I just want to thank our wonderful minister of magic for making this possible again.” A burst of applause broke out and the minister looked a bit awkward, smiling and swaying back a bit.
“Now,” Dumbledore clapped his hands, “let us begin.”
He flicked his wand towards the goblet and the flames turned from icy blue to scarlet red as a small piece of paper flew out.
“Firstly from Beuxbatons, Elodie Lemaire.” A girl with simple brown hair and a thin figure stood up smiling, making her way to the front as everyone clapped, her friends cheering. Dumbledore shook her hand and then gestured for her to stand a bit behind him, near the front of the hall.
“Next, From Durmstrung,” the flames turned red once more, this time without a prompt, “Pavel Orlov.”
The boy who stood up was not smiling but had an air of order about him, giving Dumbledore a curt nod and firm handshake before standing next to the girl with a face of stone.
“And finally, from Hogwarts,”
“-come on Jamie” Regulus heard Sirius whisper from a few rows down-
“James Potter.”
All of Hogwarts -sans most of the slytherins- cheered and whooped as James stood up and confidently swaggered to the front with a big grin on his face.
“Stupid fucking gryffindor’s gonna make us loose,” Barty grumbled next to him, it was no doubt that he was rooting for Camdus Burke, a slytherin prefect.
“Now If the contestent-“
Dumbledore was interrupted by a loud rumble, everyone’s eyes darted back to the goblet, who’s flames had turned red once more. The old man caught the piece of paper which flew out of it and exchanged a glance with the minister and McGonagall -who both gave uneasy shrugs- before unfolding the paper and reading it out.
“Regulus Black.”
Everyone turned to look at him but he just stared right at Dumbledore, Surely he misread that.
“Regulus Black?”
“what the fuck?” Evan whispered.
Nope. Who’s Regulus Black?
“Regulus,” Barty nudged him and he blinked. This was really happening.
Oh shit.