Chapter 2
Kalevi and August found themselves seated at the prestigious Slytherin table. Surrounded by a sea of green and silver robes, they couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness as they observed their new surroundings.
“Now we're all settled in and sorted, I'd like to make an announcement. This castle will not only be your home this year but also to some very special guests. You see Hogwarts has been chosen” A man spoke, who introduced himself as Dumbledore earlier but was quickly interrupted by In a burst of unexpected energy, a middle-aged man frantically dashes up the aisle of the crowded room. His exaggerated limp adds an element of hilarity to his otherwise hurried movements, causing a few chuckles to ripple through the onlookers. As he reaches Dumbledore, who sits at the front of the room with an air of wisdom and authority, he leans in close to whisper something urgently into his ear. The exchange is brief but intense, their eyes meeting for just a moment before the man turns on his heel and exits in exactly the same comical fashion as he entered. The lingering curiosity among those present intensifies as they wonder what pressing matter could have prompted such an unusual encounter between this mysterious limping man and one of their most revered figures.
"So Hogwarts has been a legendary event. The Tri-Wizard tournament. Now for those of you who do not know, the tri-wizard tournament brings together three schools for a series of magical contests. From each school, a single contestant is selected to compete. Now let me be clear, if chosen you stand alone. And trust me when I say these contests are not for the faint-hearted, but more of that later. For now please join me in welcoming the lovely ladies of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and their headmistress Madam Maxime."
As the doors of the Great Hall swing open, a hush falls over them as they gaze upon the stunning sight before them. A group of elegantly dressed women with flowing blue robes and silver tiaras enter, led by a tall and regal figure who introduces herself as Madam Maxime. The Beauxbatons students gracefully make their way to their designated seats at the Ravenclaw table, causing whispers of admiration to ripple through the room.
Kalevi leaned in next to Draco, his voice hushed as he discussed the arrival of the Beauxbatons students.
"Did you see them?" Kalevi asked, his eyes wide with awe. "They were like ethereal beings, so graceful and elegant."
Draco nodded, his usual arrogance replaced by genuine fascination. "I've never seen anything like it. And that headmistress, Madam Maxime, she's a towering presence. Literally."
"And now our friends from the north, please greet the proud sons of Durmstrang and the high master Igor Karkaroff."
The attention of the Great Hall shifts as the doors open once again, revealing a group of young men dressed in dark and imposing robes. Led by a stern-looking man with a commanding presence named Igor Karkaroff, the Durmstrang students march into the room with an air of confidence. Their entrance is met with mixed reactions from those present - some are impressed by their stoic demeanour, while others are wary of their reputation for practising darker forms of magic.
"Do you know any of them?" Draco leaned over to Kalevi, glancing between the students and him.
"What? No," Kalevi looked at the blonde boy, kinda shocked at what he was asking.
"I was just curious," Draco rolled his eyes.
"I'm from Finland, they're from Russia," Kalevi deadpanned.
Draco shrugged, realising his mistake. "Right, of course. Well, they certainly have a mysterious aura about them."
Kalevi nodded in agreement. "That they do. I've heard rumours that Durmstrang is known for teaching more unconventional and controversial magical practices."
Draco's eyes widened with intrigue. "Really? That sounds fascinating. I wonder what kind of spells and techniques they learn there."
Before Kalevi could respond, Professor Dumbledore's voice echoed through the Great Hall again.
"Your attention, please! I would like to say a few words. Eternal glory is what awaits the student who wins the tri-wizard tournament. But to do this that student must survive three tasks. Three extremely dangerous tasks. For this reason, the ministry has seen fit to impose a new rule. To explain all this we have the head of the Department of International Magic Cooperation Mister Bartimus Crouch."
As the storm rages outside, thunderous roars reverberate through the air, shaking the very foundation of the building. The heavy rain pelts against the weakened roof, causing tiny rivulets of water to seep through and drip onto the floor below. Panic ensues as screams echo throughout the room, a chorus of fear and desperation.
Amidst this chaos, a figure appears in the doorway - an enigmatic stranger with an aura that seems to radiate power. His presence commands attention as he steps forward into the tempestuous scene before him. With a flick of his wrist and a whispered incantation on his lips, he harnesses mystical forces beyond comprehension.
Magical energy surges from his wand towards the ceiling above, weaving intricate patterns in mid-air. As if responding to his command, these ethereal strands solidify into an invisible barrier that shields against further intrusion by nature's fury. The leaks are promptly sealed shut; drops of water cease their descent as they meet this newfound protection.
A sense of relief washes over everyone present as peace is gradually restored within those walls once more. The deafening roar outside subsides to mere background noise while tranquillity settles back into its rightful place amidst this previously tumultuous environment.
"Who is that?" Kalevi looked at Draco.
Draco shrugged, "No clue," but he couldn't tear his gaze away from the enigmatic stranger. The mysterious figure exuded an aura of power that seemed to transcend the realms of ordinary existence. As if sensing Kalevi's curiosity, the stranger turned his piercing gaze towards him and a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Intrigued and unable to resist, Kalevi found himself drawn closer to this enigmatic presence. As he moved closer, Kalevi noticed the stranger's mechanical eye, its cold, metallic gleam contrasting with his warm, human features. The stranger's movements showed a sense of weariness, evident in his limp and the heavy breaths that escaped his lips. Each step he took seemed to echo with a hidden story, as if the weight of his past experiences weighed him down. Yet, despite the fatigue, there was an undeniable air of determination and resilience that radiated from him.
"My dear old friend, thanks for coming," Dumbledore spoke with a gentle smile.
"That stupid roof," the man muttered under his breath before taking a drink. Draco glanced at Kalevi and August, his eyes filled with frustration.
"It's as if he has a stick up his ass," he grumbled. Kalevi nodded in agreement, his brow furrowing as he took in the stranger's demeanour.
"After much deliberation, the ministry has concluded that for their own safety, no student under the age of seventeen shall be allowed to put forth their name for the tri-wizard tournament. This decision is final," a teacher spoke, and the crowd erupted into disappointment.
The disappointment in the crowd was palpable, their hopes dashed by the announcement. Whispers of frustration and anger filled the air as students exchanged glances of disbelief. The Tri-Wizard Tournament had always been a source of excitement and anticipation, an opportunity for young witches and wizards to showcase their skills. But now, that chance was being taken away from them.
Kalevi couldn't help but feel a surge of disappointment himself. He had dreamed of competing in the tournament, proving his worth among his peers. It was a chance to prove to himself and others that he belonged in the world of magic.
As he looked around at his fellow students, Kalevi noticed Draco's clenched fists, the sting of this decision.
"That's so bloody stupid," Draco muttered.
"Agreed," Kalevi mumbled.
"Silence!" Dumbledore shouted over the crowd. Dumbledore, the wise and powerful wizard, raises his wand with a graceful flick of his wrist. With an incantation uttered in a commanding tone, he channels his magical energy into the small wooden box placed before him. As if responding to his mystical touch, the box begins to transform before our very eyes.
Slowly but surely, the solid structure of the box starts to shift and morph into something entirely different. It contorts and reshapes itself until it takes on the form of an exquisite goblet made from shimmering crystal. The once plain and unremarkable container now gleams with an ethereal glow that captivates all who gaze upon it.
But Dumbledore's enchantment does not stop there; within this newly formed goblet lies a mesmerising sight waiting to be unveiled. As he gently places his hand over its brim, a vibrant blue flame suddenly bursts forth from within. Its flickering dance illuminates the surrounding area with an otherworldly radiance, casting dancing shadows across every surface.
"The goblet of fire. Anyone wishing to submit themselves for the tournament merely writes their name upon a piece of parchment and throws it in the flame before this hour on Thursday night. Do not do so lightly, if chosen there's no turning back. As of this moment, the tri-wizard tournament has begun."