Chapter Fourteen
“Ready?” Hermione asked as we stood in the hallway outside Slughorn’s office. It was the first gathering of the Slug Club, not including the lunch on the train which we had missed.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Harry replied.
We walked into a large, classroom sized space with around a dozen upperclassmen milling about clutching glasses of what I hoped was not champagne. If a professor was giving underage students alcohol, I would definitely be sending an anonymous tip to McGonagall, who would be very upset.
“Mr Potter, Ms Hawk, Ms Granger, Mr Weasley, so glad you could come,” Slughorn said, oozing politeness.
“Thank you for having us professor,” Harry said, shaking Slughorn’s hand. “We brought a present for you.”
“Some rare herbs for potionmaking, they are all labelled,” I said, handing over the wooden case that we had brought.
“How thoughtful, thank you so very much. I’m sure I will enjoy these. Please, mingle with the other students,” Slughorn said, sweeping a hand out to indicate the other students in the room.
“Split into pairs like at political summer parties?” Ron whispered as we accepted glasses from a house elf. Sparkling cider, thankfully.
“Try to talk to the seventh years, gauge their interest in the Order,” I suggested. “But subtly.”
There was an even mix of students from different houses, from fourth year on up. Since Slughorn was inviting us, he had likely decided to invite the other promising fourth years. Susan Bones, Daphne Greengrass, Neville Longbottom and Blaise Zabini were all here. Of the seventh years, Gabriella Gryffindor, Willow Marchbanks, Wesley Bott, Julia Poppins, Emmet Fudge, Primrose Parkinson were all in attendance.
“Oh no, the twins are waving at me,” Ron moaned.
Fred and George were standing next to Cedric Diggory and Angelina Johnson, likely talking about either Quidditch, the Triwizard Tournament or both.
“Well, go talk to them. They waved, you can’t ignore them,” Hermione said, nudging Ron and Harry in their direction.
Willow Marchbanks caught our eye and Hermione and I made our way over to where she and Gabriella Gryffindor were standing.
An intimidating pair of friends, the Head Girl and the new Lady Gryffindor. The two were cousins, but close as sisters as Gabriella had been raised by the Marchbanks after her parents were killed by Death Eaters. Gabriella had taken up her mantle as Lady Gryffindor and planned to take her seat on the Wizengamot after finishing her seventh year.
“Hermione, Zo, are you enjoying the party?” Willow asked.
“We are. How about you?” Hermione asked.
“It’s a lovely gathering,” Gabriella said. “How are your classes going?”
“They are good. I’m particularly enjoying Defense with Professor Moody. What about you?” I asked. Moody was having us learn spells on Tuesdays and duel each other on Thursdays.
“Defense certainly has been very educational. I’m grateful to have an experienced teacher, especially given this is my last year at Hogwarts,” Willow said.
“Do you have any plans for after graduation?” Hermione asked politely.
“We’re planning on joining the Order of the Phoenix,” Willow said, surprisingly bluntly.
“Of course I’ll have my duties as Lady Gryffindor and Willow is applying to an apprenticeship with the History Guild, but we’ll have plenty of time to be a part of the Order,” Gabriella said.
“That’s excellent. I know the Order needs all the volunteers they can get and most members have other jobs,” Hermione said.
The members of the Slug Club moved towards the large circular table at Slughorn’s signal. Willow and Gabriella ended up sitting next to Hermione and I. Across the table, Harry and Ron were sitting with some of the fifth years. Slughorn made a brief speech, before urging everyone to eat.
“Willow, what area of History are you planning on specializing in?” I asked as we began eating the salad course.
“I’m interested in the evolution of magic and how spells are created over time in relation to societal changes of magical Albion,” Willow said, her smile becoming more genuine.
“Ooh, that’s fascinating. Hermione and I are interested in pursuing a mastery after Hogwarts. Could you tell us a little about how apprenticeships work?” I asked, deciding to continue the subject as Willow seemed so excited.
“Well most of the subjects have either a thesis based mastery or a creation based mastery. These mainly line up with the written and practical exams in each of the subjects. For example in Transfiguration it would be either studying some subject within Defense or creating a new Defensive spell or ward. In History, it’s entirely thesis based, just like we have entirely written exams in school,” Willow said, pausing only to take a sip of water. “All of the creation based masteries require you to find a Master to mentor you closely. With the thesis based masteries, you can choose to have a mentor or do an independent research mastery with an advisory board of three to five masters who loosely supervise you.”
“Which are you planning on doing?” I asked.
“How long do apprenticeships take on average?”
“Oh it can be anywhere from two to eight years, depending on the subject and specialization. In History it’s common for it to take around three or four years, but plenty of people choose to do a longer apprenticeship and go deeper into their thesis topic,” Willow said.
“How do you apply?” I asked.
“You need to send in a personal essay of who you are and what you have done so far and an academic essay of what you are planning to do, your transcripts and a few letters of recommendation. I’m going to be sending mine in soon. Then they will contact you for an interview after winter break and if you get accepted, you start in September.”
“Where is the History Guild located?” I asked.
“All of the Guilds are in WixenSpace and can only be accessed by portkeys or Apparition. They are all in castles with grounds around the size of Hogwarts,” Willow said. “Do you have any idea what subject you want to do?”
“Either History or DADA. I think both are really interesting,” I said.
“It’s rare, but there are some people who pursue two Masteries or even concurrent Masteries. Headmaster Dumbledore is a Master of Defense and Transfiguration, but he did those separately,” Willow said.
“Interesting,” I said thoughtfully.
“All of the Heads of House have pamphlets for the different Guilds. They talk to students about them during the fifth year career advising, but if you ask I’m sure they won’t mind talking to you now,” Willow said.
“I think I will. This has all been really helpful,” I said excitedly.
“Of course, I’m happy to help. I know that there have been fewer and fewer new Masters over the past few decades and the Guilds are working on getting more applicants,” Willow said. “You’re a smart girl, you’ll have a good chance of getting in.”
“Thanks,” I smiled.
HERO gained traction among the student body. Hermione hosted weekly meetings, either discussing the progress she was making or having house elf speakers talk about their life experiences. She had said that she wanted the movement to grow a little more before Hermione reached out to Rita Skeeter to do an article in the Daily Prophet.
The excitement of the visiting schools grew as September turned to October and their arrival grew closer. Lupin took a class period to discuss the history of Durmstrang, Beauxbatons and the Triwizard Tournament.
In the second week of October, a first year Slytherin girl delivered a folded piece of parchment to me between classes. I tipped the girl a Galleon and opened the note.
Zo,
Come to the tapestry of the four wixen casting a spell under the full moon that is on the Eastern part of the fourth floor at 8:00 tonight.
~Daphne
At the designated time, I pulled off my invisibility cloak in the corridor and glanced around. Nobody else was in the corridor. I wasn't sure if this was a meeting place and we were going to a secondary location or if Daphne was in one of the unused classrooms.
My question was quickly answered when she stuck her head out from behind the tapestry and gestured for me to follow her.
Behind the tapestry was a drawing room decorated with gold swirls. Primrose Parkinson, the Youth Priestess, was sitting on an armchair dressed in white robes with orange and black embroidery on the hems. In front of her was a porcelain tea set.
“Miss Hawk, please take a seat. Would you like some tea?” the Priestess said, pouring a cup of tea and emptying a vial into the teacup.
“Thank you,” I said, accepting the teacup and took a sip. I wasn’t entirely sure how to address her so I just stuck to speaking clearly.
“Try to lie to me. How many fingers am I holding up?” Parkinson asked, holding up four fingers.
I went to say “two”, but found myself unable to voice the words. My mouth moved soundlessly for a moment before I gave up.
“Try to tell the truth. How many fingers am I holding up?” the Priestess asked once again.
“Four fingers,” I replied, the words coming easily.
“How did you learn about The Old Ways?” Priestess Parkinson began.
“I overheard Daphne and Tracey discussing Mabon. I wanted to know more and guessed that it was a large scale secret given Daphne’s secretiveness. I said I wanted to know more and she agreed to explain in to me on a later date, saying she needed to consult you first,” I explained.
“Have you since told anyone or in any way indicated the existence of The Old Ways?”
“No, I have not,” I replied.
“Are you sincere in wishing to join The Old Ways?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Why do you wish to join The Old Ways?” the Priestess asked me.
“Because it’s traditional, historical magic. I’ve always been interested in history and believe that while traditions need to be adapted to fit modern time, traditions are very important. I think it’s horrifying that these rituals have been made illegal due to an abstract notion of what is good and evil. I want to learn more about the magical world, the history of magic and magic itself,” I said.
“Excellent,” the Youth Priestess said. “In that case, welcome to The Old Ways. We are delighted that have decided to join and become deeper involved with the flow of magic. I understand you wish Daphne to be your guide?”
“Yes, I do,” I said.
“Very well. She will guide you in the practices of The Old Ways and ensure you are welcomed into our society,” the Priestess said, rising to her feet. “Magic bless you, Zo Hawk.”
With that, she disappeared into smoke. Or more accurately, conjured smoke and slipped out of the passageway behind where she was sitting. Either way, it was a suitable dramatic exit.
The Hogwarts Army was coming along well. In our second meeting of the HA the previous week, we had organized everyone into four groups and mainly discussed what each group felt that they should focus on learning in the weeks before winter break.
The first part of the club would be ensuring that everyone was at or ahead of where they should be according to the loose curriculum guidelines. Group One would be working on the first and second year spells, Group Two would be working on the third and fourth year spells, Group Three would be working on the fifth and sixth year spells and Group Four would be working on the seventh year spells and the spells not taught at Hogwarts.
Of course in order to do this, we had to first look over the lesson plans of the past teachers and try to average them into what should be taught during what years, which was by no means easy as the teachers had wildly different DADA classes and some hadn’t left their lesson plans behind for future teachers.
Everyone was making good progress casting the spells on each group’s curriculum at the practice dummies. Hopefully before winter break, we could move on to basic duelling against each other.
A week before Halloween, flyers announcing the arrival of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang on October 30th went up in the Common Rooms and by the Great Hall. The announcement also instructed everyone to wear the full uniform and cloaks.
“This is so exciting. I’ve read all about the other schools and the history of the Triwizard Tournament,” Hermione said as we walked.
“I think Triwizard Tournament is a really sexist name. There’s plenty of girls who have competed,” I commented.
“Well it hasn’t happened in centuries and it was so last minute, I doubt they were thinking of how the name reflects on modern gender equality,” Hermione said.
“It should be Triwixen Tournament or even just Triwix Tournament, no that’s too informal. Triwixen Tournament. Wixen has been used as a gender neutral term for magical humans for decades now,” I said.
“Start a petition,” Harry suggested.
“Brilliant idea. I’m crazy overworked, but this would be an excellent project for you to lead,” I said.
“Why can’t Hermione do it?” Harry asked.
“Hermione has HERO and actually takes notes in class,” I said.
“Notes that you rely on,” Hermione pointed out.
“Well if I’m going to be the champion, that’s going to take surely as much time as an activist project,” Harry pointed out.
“Alright, Ron, you’re in charge,” Hermione said. “Ginny’s really passionate about feminism so I’m sure she’ll be glad to help her favorite brother.”
“I’m not her favorite brother. I’m her fourth favorite. She has us ranked,” Ron said.
“Glad you’re on board,” Hermione said as Ron spluttered, realizing his lack of protest had been taken for agreement.
On the thirtieth of October, we were all lined up on the lawn by house and year. The houses were in the same order as in the Great Hall, with the first years in front and the seventh years in back.
“Are they taking the train?” Ron asked.
“Beauxbatons is coming by air and Durnstrang is coming by water,” said Luna, who was standing right in front of us with the other third year Ravenclaws.
A few minutes later, Dumbledore jovially pointed out a dot in the sky steadily growing larger and larger until the largest carriage I had ever seen landed bumpily on the Great Lawn.
The door opened to reveal a woman who could only be Madame Maxine emerged, followed by a dozen boys and girls dressed in pale blue silk outfits.
As Dumbledore and Maxine greeted each other politely, I scanned the Beauxbatons students. Six boys and six girls. Two of the girls had brown hair, one had black hair and three had hair in varying shades of blonde. The girl in front, with hair so light it seemed to shimmer, looked breathtakingly beautiful and effortlessly dangerous. Most of the older boys and some of the girls of Hogwarts seemed captivated by her. That must be Fleur Delacour.
Madam Maxine and the Beauxbatons delegation went inside, shivering in their light silk clothes. Soon Lee Jordan began to shout and point at the lake as a ship emerged from the watery depths and glided towards the bank.
An older man, Karkaroff undoubtedly, led two columns of eight students towards where Dumbledore and the rest of the staff stood. Sixteen students, ten boys and six girls, more than Beauxbatons. That meant that the two schools had likely chosen themselves how many students to bring.
“Harry- It’s Krum!” Ron whispered excitedly.
“I can’t believe he would choose to come, especially given he already has a Quidditch career,” Hermione said.
“Forget about Krum, pay attention to the Headmaster, Karkaroff. He’s Scandian, but moved to England to join the Death Eaters. Got arrested, then cut a deal and turned on the other Death Eaters to get out of Azkaban. Fled back to Scandia. Cowardly when confronted, but dangerous,” I murmured.
“So we should try to avoid him?” Harry asked.
“Probably a good idea.”
Beauxbatons took seats at the Ravenclaw table and Durmstrang took seats at the Slytherin table.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and most particularly, guests,” said
Dumbledore, beaming. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable. The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast. I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!”
With that, food appeared and the feast began. At the Ravenclaw table, all of the interest was on the Beauxbatons students who had sat in a group halfway down the table. They were too far away for us to hear them, but hopefully they would spread out some more as the year went on.
Next to us, Carol Clearwater and Patricia Moon of sixth year were discussing who was likely to put their names in.
“Most of the Gryffindors in sixth and seventh year have already announced whether or not they are planning on entering. None of the Slytherins have said anything, but some will likely be entering without announcing it to save face if they don’t get chosen. Rumor has it that Diggory and Warrington are both planning to enter,” Patricia was saying.
“Look. It’s Bagman and someone else,” Hermione said.
A middle aged woman dressed in professional robes appeared to be berating Bagman as the pair of them walked towards the Head Table, where they sat down on either side of the foreign teachers.
“That must be the new Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. She was in St Mungo’s after the Cup, but now she’s out and she’s Percy’s new boss,” Ron said.
After dinner and dessert, Dumbledore stood up and walked towards the elaborate podium that had appeared in the last several moments.
“The moment has come. The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket, just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Madam Donna Wildsmith, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation and Mr Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Madam Wilsmith and Mr Bagman will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts. The casket if you please, Mr Filch,” Dumbledore gestured.
Filch brought forth an old fashioned chest and placed it in front of Dumbledore’s podium.
“The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways. Their magical prowess, their daring, their powers of deduction and, of course, their ability to cope with danger. As you know, three champions compete in the tournament, one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire.”
Dumbledore opened the chest and removed a tall goblet filled with flames. He placed it on a stand that had also appeared between one blink and the next. Dumbledore’s podium had disappeared while everyone had been focused on the goblet. I wondered if that was due to Hogwarts itself or the house elves.
“Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.”
“That’s what I was forgetting to do!” I exclaimed as I looked at the flaming Cup.
“What?” Hermione asked.
“I need to check if Moody is a Death Eater. Who has the Map?” I asked.
“To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," Dumbledore continued. “I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.”
“You think Mad-Eye Moody is a Death Eater?” Ron asked.
“No, I think he might be a Death Eater polyjuiced to look like Moody, cause you know seer stuff ,” I said as we were in public and I didn’t want to say time travel .
“Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all,” Dumbledore said.
“I've got it, hold on a second,” Harry said, rummaging through his school bag.
"It looks like it's Moody," Harry said, looking at the Great Hall on the Map.
"You're sure that there is no Barty Crouch on it?" Hermione asked.
"Yep," Harry said, handing the Map over so that it could be double, triple and quadruple checked.
"That's a relief," I said as Harry tucked away the Map and we all got up.
At the doorway, Karkaroff paused and was staring at Harry’s forehead, as everyone tended to do when first meeting him.
“Yeah, that’s Harry Potter,” Moody said, walking up.
“You!” Karkaroff exclaimed, equal parts angry and scared.
“Me. And unless you've got anything to say to Potter, Karkaroff, you might want to move. You're blocking the doorway,” Moody said.
Karkaroff stormed off, the Durmstrang students following behind him.
When we got to Ravenclaw Tower, we headed up to Harry and Ron's bedroom. Having bedrooms of two instead of five or more like Gryffindor or Hufflepuff meant that it was a lot easier to meet up and scheme privately.
“So do we still think that somebody is going to put my name in the Cup?” Harry asked.
“Yes, so far any changes to the timeline seem to almost self-correct albeit in ways we don't always anticipate, which means we need to put a fake name and an explanation for the Goblet in tonight,” Hermione said.
“How are we bypassing the Age Line?” Ron asked.
“As a last resort, there is The Invisibility Cloak which can get through any ward. However considering the Goblet is sentient, I don’t want to trick it unless we have no other choice. I might be physically fourteen, but I’m mentally eighteen. I don’t know how the Age Line measures age, but worst case scenario I end up with a beard, go to the Hospital Wing and the entire school knows by morning. That can be plan A,” I said.
“Then there’s a bunch of other ways we could theoretically pass it. We could levitate the paper across the Age Line, ball it up and toss it into the Cup without magic, bring in an older student or even descend from the ceiling on a rope like in a spy movie so we don’t cross the Age Line,” Hermione said.
“So that’s plans B, C, D and E. Plan F is the Invisibility Cloak. Now what are we doing about convincing the Goblet to go along with our plan?” Ron asked.
“We write a letter explaining everything. If we need to put the paper in tonight, we should get started writing it. Hermione should do it, she’s best at writing stuff,” Hermione said.
"We're going to write a letter to a flaming cup?" Ron asked.
"In my experience, it is better to be polite to inanimate objects and run the risk of looking like a fool than be rude to inanimate objects and run the risk of them being sentient enough to take offense and ruin your day," I said.
It took around an hour of writing and editing a compelling argument on why the Goblet of Fire needed to go along with our plan. In the end, the piece of parchment was more of an essay than a note, but Hermione had kept it to a short essay that fit on a single page.
We went down to the Great Hall, where the House tables had been cleared to either side to make room for the Goblet, which was in the center of the room. A significant portion of students were sitting at tables on the sides of the room, watching people come in. The four of us took a seat on the Ravenclaw table and pulled out homework to work on while we watched.
Karkaroff led the Durmstrang contingent into the Great Hall, where all of his students put folded pieces of paper into the Goblet and then left the room. A Slytherin sitting nearby informed me that the Beauxbatons students had already come to put their names in as had a handful of Hogwarts students.
A sixth year Gryffindor boy, urged on by his friends, attempted to put his name in. With a flash of light, the Gryffindor was propelled out of the circle surrounding the Goblet and a long white beard quickly formed on his chin. A sixteen year old on a dare, then. After laughing, the boy’s friends helped him up and out of the Hall, either heading to the Hospital Wing or to their dormitory in an attempt to remove the beard themselves.
Two Slytherin boys, a Gryffindor girl, a Gryffindor boy, a Ravenclaw boy and a Hufflepuff girl put their names in over the next hour.
I finished my History essay and moved on to my Transfiguration homework. Hermione was engrossed in a book on the history of magical creatures as part of her HERO research. Ron and Harry were having fun making stuff up for their Divination homework.
“We should probably head to bed. Nobody has put their names in for a little while and the twins will likely make their attempt tomorrow,” I said loudly enough for enough people to hear me as I stood up and put my homework in my bag.
We walked out of the Great Hall, down a few corridors before we stopped. Harry and Ron put on The Invisibility Cloak while Hermione and I put on my invisibility cloak. As we were growing, we could still fit all four of us under The Invisibility Cloak, but when we didn’t need to bypass any wards it was better to go two per cloak for increased movement.
We walked back into the Great Hall, hidden and invisible. In the few minutes we were gone, a decent amount of people had cleared out. More followed as the clock clicked closer to curfew. Once everyone was gone, we waited another five minutes before taking off the cloaks.
“Ron, Harry keep a lookout. Zo, are you ready?” Hermione asked.
“Yup,” I said, taking the folded piece of paper from her and approaching the Age Line. “Here goes nothing.”
I stepped over the Age Line, feeling a wave of magic wash over me. I waited a few seconds. After it seemed I was not about to be thrown out, I put the piece of paper in the flames of the Goblet and walked out of the circle.
“Huh, I didn’t expect that to work,” Harry said.
“Yeah, most of our plans, Plan A never works,” Ron agreed.
“I’m a little disappointed that we didn’t get the chance to descend from the rafters on a rope, but I’m glad I don’t have a beard,” I said.
“Let’s get going. It’s late and tomorrow is Monday,” Hermione said, picking up the two invisibility cloaks.
Breakfast was an entire spectacle, with everyone paying attention to the Goblet. Students would periodically walk up and put their name in. The beard growing part of the Age Line was common knowledge by now, but several underage students, mainly Gryffindors, were crossing the line just for fun.
“Ooh, look it’s the twins,” Ron said as his older brothers entered the Great Hall to a round of applause.
Rumor had it they were trying to circumvent the Age Line and everyone was eager to watch. Across the hall, Colin Creevey readied his camera. Smart kid, plenty of people would pay for pictures of the Weasley twins with beards.
The two uncorked the vials, crossed their arms and drank the potions. They leapt into the circle together, waited a moment and put their names in. A second later, the Goblet spit out both their names and the twins themselves. They landed with a thump an impressive distance away, beards growing.
Dumbledore applauded, walking down to where the twins were laughing and clambering to their feet.
“A marvelous attempt,” Dumbledore said jovially. “I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything as fine as yours.”
The twins good naturedly walked out of the hall, pausing to pose for Colin.
During the day’s classes, everyone struggled to pay attention. Trewlawney had us try to predict who would get chosen. I predicted Krum and Delacour for the other two schools in a dream last night, but couldn’t tell who the Hogwarts champion was. Trewlaney eagerly accepted my prediction as did the majority of the class, who believed my ‘predictions’. Divination was a fun class to test my acting skills.
Pretending that my visions came to me in dreams was a stroke of genius on my part. Now being perpetually sleep deprived was seen as part of my mysterious Seer abilities be the student body at large. It was particularly helpful given the Slytherins saw being anything less than perfectly composed as a sign of weakness, but anything directly connected to being a Seer was a sign of power.
Daphne fell into step next to me as Ron, Harry and I exited the Divination classroom, which was rather impressive considering she didn’t take Divination and I was pretty sure her class was at the other end of the school. I told Harry and Ron to go on ahead to lunch without me.
“We need to talk about Samhain tonight. I’ve had the house elves set up lunch for us in an abandoned classroom,” Daphne said, steering us to a classroom in a rarely frequented corridor and casting a plethora of privacy charms.
A formal meal was set up on a table, which Daphne and I sat down at.
“The Samhain celebration starts at around ten o’clock in the Forbidden Forest, well after the usual Halloween feast and lasts until one or two o’clock. There’s a passageway in the dungeons that lets out in the Forbidden Forest close to where we have the rituals. Do you think you can sneak down to the dungeons tonight?” Daphne asked.
“I can easily get from Ravenclaw Tower to the dungeons. I have an invisibility cloak and spend plenty of time sneaking around. Hermione generally goes to bed from ten to eleven and her bed curtains are warded against noise because I stay up later, so I can slip out without her noticing,” I said.
“If you can be in the corridor outside the Slytherin Common Room at 11:30, I can meet you and show you where the passageway is. Most people will be wearing black or dark colors and masks to hide their faces. First is the ritual chants, where we all hold hands around the bonfire. After that any ghosts who wish to cross over do so, then there is an option for some to do blood magic. They just cut their hand and bleed into the fire. It’s entirely optional and mainly the upper years who do so. After that, there is music and dancing. It’s more upbeat and informal than most ballroom dancing. During that time, many people will individually go up to the bonfire and attempt to commune with their dead loved ones. There is food that is eaten during or after the dancing. By then it’s around one o’clock and people begin to leave and go back to the castle,” Daphne said.
“Do… Are people actually able to speak with those who have fully passed on?” I asked curiously.
“Yes, both during Samhain and during instances not occurring on Samhain although those usually involve elaborate rituals. For some, it is as small as a feeling in the air, that someone is reaching out to you. Other times, the dead will more fully cross over, appearing as ghosts or even slightly more corporeal than ghosts and able to temporarily interact with the living,” Daphne said.
“As my guide, what will you be doing?” I asked.
“I’ll stay with you the whole time and answer any questions you have. I already told Millicent, Tracey and Pansy that you are joining the Old Ways, I hope you don’t mind. It’s always exciting when a new person joins. They’ll be hanging out with us and will be welcoming of you.”
“I’m a little nervous. This is entirely new to me and given the rising political tensions, I’m not sure how welcome I’ll be,” I admitted to Daphne.
“All grudges are supposed to be set aside during holidays. The youth holidays follow that more closely than the adult holidays, even after that incident during the last war. You’ve been accepted by the Priestess and that’s that,” Daphne assured me.
“Thanks,” I smiled, “11:30, corridor outside the Slytherin Common Room. See you then.”
The final class of the day and the hours before dinner seemed to fly by and before long, we were sitting at the Ravenclaw Table, eating our food and staring at the Goblet. Rita Skeeter, in beetle form, was in the pocket of my robes.
“Remember, act surprised when your name comes out. You didn’t know this would happen, you’re fourteen, you don’t want to compete, you had no prior knowledge of this,” Hermione murmured to Harry. “It’s important that we control the narrative.”
“Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber where they will be receiving their first instructions.”
The first piece of paper flew from the Goblet in a flurry of sparks.
“The Champion for Durmstrang will be Victor Krum,” Dumbledore announced.
Krum stood up to a cacophony of applause and walked to the door behind the staff table.
“The Champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour,” Dumbledore announced after another piece of paper came flying out.
The third piece of paper came soaring out and was swiftly caught by Dumbledore.
“The Champion for Hogwarts is Beedle the Bard?” Dumbledore said in confusion.
Fred and George let out loud guffaws, which did not go unmissed by Professor McGonagall.
As silence and confusion permeated the hall, a fourth slip of paper emerged from the goblet.
“Harry Potter!”
“What?” Harry said, glancing around in surprise. “I didn’t put my name in! What’s going on? Shit, is this Voldemort’s annual murder plot?”
“Probably,” Hermione said, frowning.
“Harry Potter, please come up here,” Dumbledore said, as McGonagall, Lupin and Moody all stood up and moved towards Dumbledore.
“Want to go as a group? We can berate the Ministry together?” I asked.
“Yes, definitely,” Harry said standing up.
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, but did not protest the four of us going through the door together.
“What is it?” Delacour asked as we entered. “Do zey want us back in ze Hall?”
“Well Hogwarts’ champion is supposedly Beedle the Bard, the author of a bunch of children's stories from forever ago. Then Harry’s name came out, even though he’s underage, didn’t put his name in, and supposedly can’t legally compete. Working theory is a Voldemort plot. I guess they’re trying to sort it out,” I said.
“Extraordinary!” Bagman said excitedly as he entered. “Absolutely extraordinary. May I introduce Hogwarts’ Champion!”
“Zis must be a mistake. E is too young. E cannot compete,” Fleur Delacor said.
“Yes. Harry is a minor and he did not put his name in the Goblet of Fire,” I said as the door opened to admit the rest of the professors. “This must be a mistake, Headmaster. Harry is fourteen. Fourteen! He didn’t put his name in the Goblet and will testify to that under truth serum. You cannot force him to compete in a deadly tournament he was entered into against his will and cannot legally consent to!”
The two other Headmasters began to criticize Dumbledore. Without there being two competitors from Hogwarts, the complaints mainly centered around the Age Line not working and concern over Harry’s youth. Although the latter was solely from Headmistress Maxine and Delacour.
“Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?” Dumbledore asked Harry intently.
“No,” Harry said. Dumbledore nodded.
“We think that it might be an attempt by Voldemort to kill Harry,” Hermione chipped in. “Harry is young and inexperienced compared to the other two champions and the Tournament is known for high fatalities.”
“That is most concerning. Mr Bagman, Mrs. Wildsmith, what are your opinions on the matter of whether or not Mr Potter is considered a champion?” Dumbledore asked.
“Well, his name came out of the Goblet of Fire. He’s a champion,” Bagman insisted. “It’s a legally binding contract.”
“But he didn’t put his name in and as a minor, he cannot legally consent to anything. Historically, underage champions needed parental permission.”
“Mr Potter may not have entered, however a piece of paper with his name in his handwriting emerged from the Goblet of Fire. It’s not just a legally binding contract, it’s a magically binding contract. To your point, Miss Hawk, historically champions needed parental permission to enter, but that was a rule imposed by the schools. If a name emerges, that champion is magically bound to compete in the tournament,” Mrs Wildsmith said.
“What does that mean that he’s magically bound to compete?” Ron asked.
“Magic herself will compel him to compete,” Mrs Wildsmith said.
“But what all does that entail?” I asked. “Could he say, begin the task but sit on the sidelines twiddling his thumbs until time is up?”
“Potentially, but it is unknown. All previous champions have wanted to compete. There is sometimes an option for champions to forfeit the task, but that is not used unless the champion is in mortal danger, if even then. If Mr Potter did attempt to find a loophole, it is unknown if that would be allowed, he would be propelled into the task, whatever it may be, or if he might be harmed by his refusal. Magical oaths and contracts vary and the Goblet of Fire is old and largely unknown. However there have been instances of wixen losing their magic for going against a magical contract,” Mrs Wildsmith said.
“So I have to compete?” Harry asked.
“I do believe so, Mr Potter. I assure you that there will be a full investigation into how exactly this was allowed to occur,” Mrs Wildsmith said.
“There better be,” Ron muttered loud enough for the whole room to hear it.
“In that case, there should be allowances made. Harry is fourteen compared to Krum and Delacour who are grown adults and has not been training for this as they have. At the very least, there needs to be remedial training of some sort so that Harry has a better chance of surviving this in one piece,” I argued.
“I agree. E is a child and should not be been allowed to compete,” Fleur Delacour said.
“I can train the boy. And the rest of his friends if they want to join. The-Boy-Who-Lived ought to be trained to fight,” Moody said.
“Excellent! Mr Potter will compete as the Hogwarts Champion. Now, onto the champion’s instructions. Madam Wildsmith?” Bagman asked.
“The first task will test your daring and courage in the face of the unknown. As such, we will not be telling you what the task is. The first task will take place on November the 24th, in front of the other students and the panel of judges. The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests,” Madam Wildsmith said.
The adults exchanged courtesies and left the room, their students in tow.
“Krum, Delacour!” I shouted, jogging to catch up with them in the Great Hall.
“Yes?” Delacour asked.
“The first task, it’s dragons. The champions have to fight a dragon which is guarding some sort of prize,” I told them.
“Vy are you telling us dis?” Krum asked suspiciously.
“Because I care more about forging better relationships with other countries than I care about who wins. Consider it a gesture of goodwill,” I said. Also, they would have found about from their respective professors and it cost me nothing to tell them.
“Zank you,” Delacour said. “And please, call me Fleur.”
I smiled as they turned around and continued to walk out of the castle.
“How do you think that went?” Ron asked.
“Well, nobody seemed to think you put your name in which is good. I doubt the Ministry investigation will turn up anything, but Dumbledore and Moody will probably be looking into things on their own,” I said, reaching into my pocket and holding the beetle in my hand up to eye level. “Got enough for a frontline story?”
The beetle chirped and flew off, which I took as a yes. I checked my watch. It was 8:20.
“Okay, let’s head back to Ravenclaw Tower. We should talk a little before going to bed,” Hermione said.
The entirety of Ravenclaw House seemed to be waiting in the Common Room. We told them that Harry did not put his name in, but would have to compete anyway. Then we headed up to Harry and Ron’s room to meet in private.
“Alright, Harry, you write a letter to Sirius. Hermione, you write a letter to Andromeda and then I can take them to the Owlery tonight,” I said, realizing that delivering letters to the Owlery was a great excuse to leave the dorms and I could easily do that before meeting Daphne.
“I’ll write a note to Lavender Brown so she can gossip in our favor and deliver it via Dobby,” I said, pulling out some parchment and a ballpoint pen.
“So the first task is dragons?” Ron asked after we finished writing the letters.
“Yes. Presumably Harry is going to get the Hungarian Horntail, the most dangerous of the four, well three now, dragons. He has to get past it to get a golden egg that’s with the dragon’s other eggs. Mother animals protecting their kids are crazy dangerous. In the original timeline, you used a broom to fly, got the dragon to break it’s chain, led it on a wild goose chase, then circled back to get the egg. Since we know that The Invisibility Cloak is so powerful, I think you should use that. Afterwards say you cast a smell blocking spell on yourself. We know because of Mrs Norris that The Cloak blocks smell somehow, but normal invisibility cloaks don’t do that and only Dumbledore knows that your cloak is The Invisibility Cloak, I said.
“That seems too easy,” Hermione said. “Also, contestants are only allowed to bring their wands in.”
“We have the literal Cloak of Death, we would be fools not to use it. So Harry sneaks The Cloak in via an extended pocket and afterwards says he cast an invisibility spell, problem solved,” I said.
“He’ll need to learn an invisibility spell so the story holds up, but he’s got nearly a month. That should be easy enough,” Ron said.
“We can make it a HA lesson. Everyone has moved faster than expected and is at the goal we set for the end of December, so teach everyone an invisibility spell for better time management,” I suggested.
“Media and public opinion?” Hermione prompted.
“We have a good start. Harry was loudly surprised and we theorized it was Voldemort in full hearing of the other Ravenclaws. None of the teachers thought he put his name in beyond Dumbledore initially double checking. Then we have Lavender on the opinion of the Hogwarts students and Rita Skeeter on the general public,” I said. “Hopefully Andromeda and Sirius can manage opinions among the nobles.”
“I think that went well. Everything happened exactly according to plan and people believed us,” Ron said.
“Don’t jinx us,” Harry warned.
“Now, everyone needs a good night’s sleep. Everyone will be swarming you tomorrow,” Hermione warned as the two of us got up to head back to our room.
While Hermione took a shower, I put on black dress robes, conjured a black masquerade mask and put on my invisibility cloak. When she came back in, I was wearing my cloak from the neck down, hiding my outfit so all she could see was my floating head.
“I’m going to go to The Owlery to send the letters,” I said, picking them up and slipping on my boots.
“Want me to wait up?” Hermione offered.
“No. I might sneak into some of the other common rooms to try to gauge the mood there,” I said, coming up with a reason to be gone for potentially several hours.
“Alright, good luck avoiding Filch,” Hermione said.
The common room had mainly cleared out after we returned, with some students working on their homework. It was rather easy to slip out the door when nobody was looking and catch a train to The Owlery. Much to my amusement, I was not the only student breaking curfew to owl a letter, nor was I the only one doing so with use of an invisibility cloak. The choosing of the Champions was a rather exciting event and it seemed many of my peers wanted to inform the parents before the morning’s Prophet.
Daphne was waiting in the corridor where she said she would be along with the other Slytherin girls in our year. I lowered my hood as I approached.
“Hi Zo,” Pansy greeted.
“Hi,” I said with a smile.
“Are you ready?” Daphne asked.
“Yes,” I said, stuffing my invisibility cloak into my magically enlargened pocket.
Daphne led us through a few corridors, down a secret passageway and into a large room with an elaborate arch at the entrance of the tunnel.
“From here the tunnel will take us to the Forbidden Forest,” Daphne said as we walked down.
“I’m so glad you’re joining Zo,” Tracey said as we walked. “There aren’t many girls our age who are part Old Ways as our year is so small compared to the others due to the war. It’s just us for the fourth year girls although there are a few non Slytherin boys in our year.”
“Who?” I asked curiously.
“Jasper Cauldwell and Kevin Entwhistle,” Millicent said.
“Huh,” I said.
“Here we are,” Pansy said as the ground sloped up until we walked out of the trunk of a thick tree.
It was a large clearing with a bonfire roaring in the center and several dozen mingling around. Fairy lights above the clearing helped to illuminate the area. Nearly everyone was wearing masks of some sort on their face. Some were full faces and some were just around the eyes. One witch was wearing elaborate face paint instead of a traditional mask.
“Wixen of Hogwarts,” the Youth Priestess said, coming to stand in front of the fire. “Join hands and unite!”
Everyone began to chant. I didn’t know the words but voiced along to the best of my ability, Daphne giving me an encouraging smile.
Midnight calls, the witching hour
The veil grows thin, we raise our power
The clock strikes twelve, we circle ‘round
Our spirits rise, our voices sound.
Our circle cast, the dead arrive
From birth to death, from death to life
Our greatest fears, we face as one
Power and strength, darkness undone
Come celebrate the Mystery
Shadow and mist, through which we see
Maiden, Mother, Crone
You light the path, into the tomb
A New Year comes, the old year gone
With dreams revealed, we carry on
It’s Samhain Night
It’s Samhain Night.
As we spoke the words, I could feel the magic growing and dancing? casting? embracing? Words could not do justice to the feeling that the magic evoked. I was pouring magic into the swell of magic permeating the clearing and it was strengthening me in turn.
“The veil is at its thinnest. Those who wish to cross over should do so now,” the Priestess announced.
Two young ghosts drifted forward, holding hands. They were maybe sixteen or seventeen, wearing the Hogwarts robes of the 16th century. They smiled at each other and drifted above the bonfire. The air rippled, magic rippled and then the ghosts faded out of existence.
A minute or so went by, until it seemed clear that there was nobody else who wished to cross over.
“Should anyone wish to cast their blood into the flames, step forward now,” the Priestess said.
A handful of students, sixth and seventh years, stepped forward to the flame. They either cut their palm with ornate daggers or pricked their fingers with needles and let their blood fall into the fire. Once they were done, they stepped back into the circle.
“Now, let us celebrate!” the Youth Priestess exclaimed.
Orchestral music began flowing from somewhere. A table, ladden with food appeared outside the circle. Everyone dropped their hands and began breaking off into smaller groups to talk or begin dancing
“I’m starving. Let’s get something to eat,” Tracey announced.
The table had autumnal harvest foods. There corn, pumpkins and various gourds placed on the tablecloth as decoration and cooked into the dishes. Pumpkin pie, acorn squash, caramel apples, colcannon, honeyed pears, barmbrack, roasted nuts, spiced cider and more, all helpfully labeled.
“It’s all real food, not the conjured stuff,” Daphne said.
“That means go easy on the cake Tracey,” Pansy teased.
“This is a festival. Feasting is an important part of it, something which I gladly partake in,” Tracey said in mock offense as she loaded up her plate.
I got some colcannon, which appeared to be a mashed potatoes dish, honeyed pears, a caramel apple and spiced cider.
“We normally will eat after the ritual part of the festival is over, then cast some magic or dance,” Millicent said as we sat down on some logs on the outskirts of the clearing.
Wixen were casting spells gleefully, conjuring bubbles, levitating sticks, casting magic just for the sake of it. Around the fire, people were dancing upbeat folk dances.
“Because of the heightened magic, most enjoy casting magic to express their exuberance. Dancing is also very common as everyone has a lot of energy. There’s no specific dances like at a ball, you just move in time to the music,” Daphne said, following my gaze.
“It’s wonderful,” I said smiling as I took in the atmosphere of the celebration.
“Just wait for your first Beltane or Litha. Samhain will seem positively subdued in comparison,” Daphne said with an easy grin.
It struck me that I had never seen her fully smile before. Daphne, like most of the Slytherins, was very closed off and restrained in public. Here, it seemed everyone let down their walls and was true to themselves.
After eating Tracey, who was bursting with energy, dragged us into the dancing circle where we danced until our feet hurt, streams of sparkles emanating from our wands when we decided to cast magic.
The night wound to a close as more and more wixen decided to return to the castle. It was shortly after two in the morning when we entered the passageway in the tree trunk leading back to the castle. Time had seemed to pass in the blink of an eye.
“What did you think of your first holiday?” Daphne asked as we walked back.
“You were right, words can’t begin to describe the feeling of it, the magic in the air,” I smiled.
“Your first holiday is always something special. For Millie, Daph and I, our first was Mabon, as that was the first in the school year. For Tracey though it was Ostara of our first year,” Pansy said.
“I was really apprehensive my first holiday. My mum’s a muggleborn, she would have seen it as me joining a cult and would have been furious,” Tracey said.
“The cult thing was one of my main worries,” I admitted.
“Muggles are weird,” Millicent said, wrinkling her nose.
“At times yes. Muggle society is so diverse and large, whereas in the wixen world everyone knows each other,” I said. “Tracey is your mum religious, or was she as a kid?”
“She was technically raised Christian before Hogwarts, but neither she nor my muggle grandparents are really religious and they took the witch thing easily enough. What about your parents?” Tracey asked.
“Both atheist. I decided to by agnostic, which is basically atheist but more open minded and I was thrilled about being a witch. My grandma always encouraged my love of magical fantasy stories and such. She was a squib and in hindsight, she might have realized I had magic early on,” I said, weaving together the truth and my made up backstory.
“Yeah, I know muggleborns with really religious parents can have a tough time and often end up running away to live on their own in the summer or going to Morgana’s Home,” Tracey said.
“Well this took a dark turn,” Pansy said as we came up to the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room.
“Zo, are you good to get back to Ravenclaw Tower on your own?” Daphne asked.
“I’m good, thanks,” I said, putting on my invisibility cloak. “Have a good evening!”