FIVE
CHAPTER FIVE
°⋆∴☽°:۵≼
i. with the fur !
— THE GLOW OF FLOATING CANDLES CAST FRIENDLY SHADOWS ALONG THE FLOOR, a quiet buzz of excitement echoing among the great hall. There was a hum of consistent chatter, as everyone gossiped about the new arrivals, throwing around theories and far-fetched stories about each of the visiting schools. Though none of this truly concerned Taron, whose legs were bouncing ascent-mindedly as he tried to ignore the grumbling rumble of his stomach.
"I can't believe you're still hungry." Eli laughed, poking at his side and sharing a teasing look with Reign from across the table.
Taron stared at the blank space before him, where a platter of food should be- any food at all- at this point Taron was a beggar, not a chooser. "If Dumbles chats our ears off for the next half hour, I'm rioting and raiding the kitchens."
"Good luck with that." Cedric chuckled lightly, knowing it was entirely likely that they would be stuck listening to the old man for longer than anyone in the Great Hall would have liked.
As if Dumbledore had heard the Hufflepuff's comments, he climbed up onto the slab podium at the front of the hall, addressing the students with a quieting gesture from over the top of his intricately designed owl lectern, his eyes glistening with a characteristic amusement behind his silver half-moon spectacles.
"Now that we're all settled and sorted, I'd like to make an announcement." He spoke, silencing the crowd with a practiced ease, "This castle will not only be your home this year, but home to some very special guests as well. You see, Hogwarts has been chosen..."
The headmaster trailed off as the castle's skulking caretaker, Mr Filch, pushed his way through the entrance doors and ran towards the high table with purpose, ignoring the curious eyes on him as he arrived at Dumbledore's side, panting and heaving as he tried to relay some sort of message to the man.
Taron turned to his friends, his hunger briefly forgotten as they shared a look of bizarre confusion, turning their heads to the Weasley twins at the table next to their own, allowing them to share in the pulling of ridiculous faces, and now, poorly hidden mirth.
Filch and Dumbledore exchanged a few short, whispered sentences, before Filch took off back across the length of the hall, wheezing and groaning as he went, nearly sparking a flame of laughter amongst the students before the headmaster recalled their attention.
"Hogwarts has been chosen to host a legendary event," He continued his previous announcement, smiling slightly as every student seemed to lean forward in enthused fascination, "the Triwizard Tournament. Now, for those of you who do not know, the Triwizard Tournament brings together three schools for a series of magical contests. For each school, a single student is selected to compete."
He paused for a brief moment, allowing a moment for the school to wrap their heads around the concept they were introducing this year, before continuing, "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."
"Oh, cool." Taron muttered with a light-hearted roll of his eyes, "If we've learned anything these past few years, whatever the tournament is about is going to be alarmingly dangerous."
Eli hushed him with a semi-annoyed glare, her attention being completely commanded by their headmaster, as she grew more and more interested in the prospects this year would bring.
Taron instead turned to Cedric, just across the table, not noticing that his fellow Hufflepuff also seemed invested in the idea, his eyes brimming with questions, speculations, and imaginative wonder, "Do you think there'll be a dragon or something? That old nut is gonna get someone killed, I swear by it."
This time, Taron was shushed by all three of his tablemates, plus a few other Hufflepuffs who seemed equally as fed up with his talkative nature, "Mate, shut up."
"Oh, can it, Galroy." Taron childishly stuck out his tongue at the pompous boy who'd spoken, but nonetheless quieted and rejoined in the interest of the crowd.
"For now, please join me in welcoming the lovely ladies of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, and their headmistress, Madame Maxime!" Dumbledore gestured towards the entrance doors, and they opened swiftly with a brush of simple magic, revealing a group of compellingly beautiful women dressed in flowy, dusky blue dresses.
Their movement was graceful, disciplined as they practically floated down the centre aisle, committing to their theatrics as hundreds of wispy blue butterflies escaped their sleeves and fluttered to the ceiling, turning into a raining shower of sparkling dust. Following them was Madame Maxime, the half-giant headmistress of Beauxbatons, practically towering over her pupils with an air of excellence, and pride.
"That bob is a statement." Eli whispered, her eyes glued on the woman, who did in fact sport a sleek, clean, reddish-brown bob and straight-cut bangs.
Taron turned to the girl with an exasperated glare, "You were literally just having my ass for talking."
Eli simply stuck out her tongue, the same way he had only moments before, and watched in amusement as Taron leaned out of his seat slightly as Madame Maxime passed.
"Your dress is mint." He uttered to the woman, with an added thumbs up, earning a highly amused smile in response, though she made no other indication that she had even heard the boy as she continued to the front with her head held high.
"Seriously?" Eli asked, sharing in Cedric and Reign's muffled laughter at their friend's antics
"What?" Taron gestured at Madame Maxime's attire- pointing out the fur linings and scaled design in the shiny blush-pink material. "You're really gonna tell me that isn't a cool dress?"
Before the trio could respond and voice their own opinions, Dumbledore once again commanded the room's attention, "And now, our friends from the north. Please greet the proud sons of Durmstrang, and their headmaster, Igor Karkaroff."
The few dozen men that entered next had a seemingly opposite approach to their introduction than the women of Beauxbatons, as they strutted in with thick wooden staffs that sparked and left scorch marks in the stone every time they struck the ground, rushing forward in a show of acrobatics and careful coordination. They ended it off with a wordless fire spell, breathing a flaming, flickering phoenix into the open air as it screeched and unfurled its wings, dispersing inwards until it disappeared completely.
In a similar fashion to the other school, the headmaster of Durmstrang fell behind his students, though he had an almost permanent aura of intensity as he walked with fury in his steps, slamming his own wooden staff into the stone floor as he approached the high table.
Most chatter that had sparked around the room, however, was surrounding the young Viktor Krum, who followed diligently at Igor's side. One of the youngest professional Quidditch players of their age- only eighteen years, and already an icon of his time, as the seeker for the Bulgarian National Quidditch team. He walked with purpose, his fur lined, deep brown overcoat billowing at his heavy leather boots, a stern look settling into his eyebrows.
"Nice coat, mate." Taron whispered to the man as he passed by, internally high fiving himself when he saw the corner of Viktor's mouth upturn ever so slightly.
"Taron." Eli scolded half-heartedly, her voice remaining monotone so as not to reveal her own amusement.
"It's the fur." He explained, despite his friends being indifferent on the subject, "As someone who freezes constantly, the fur is a practical and great-looking solution."
To Taron's relief, once some table extensions had been brought in for the visiting students to take their seats with the Ravenclaws and Slytherins, respectively, Dumbledore stated that he would continue to reveal more about the so-called 'Triwizard Tournament', once they had finished with dinner. And so, with the wave of a hand, platters piled high with delicious foods appeared on the tables before them, launching the hall into a steady build of noise and chatter, as everyone began to converse and eat.
It passed by quickly, Taron being too busy stuffing his face with mashed potatoes to bother continuing to pester his friends with incessant, unnecessary talking. Instead, he simply listened as they began a conversation, theorizing about this year's shiny new event.
"Do you think you'll enter, Taron?" Cedric asked, snapping Taron out of his food fixation as the boy looked up and hummed in confusion around a mouthful of roast ham.
Cedric laughed, patiently repeating his question, "The tournament. You think you'll try it out?"
"Uhhh." Taron finished his bite, and contemplated the idea, "No? I don't think so. I did say- one of these days, that old man is gonna kill someone, and it sure as Merlin won't be because of anything I do."
"I think it could be fun." The Hufflepuff prefect shrugged nonchalantly. "You don't wanna enter with me?"
"You wouldn't both get picked, anyway." Reign commented reasonably, "One from each school, right? Only one of you would have a chance."
"Yeah, but my chances are slim anyway, yeah?" Cedric replied, leaning his forearms against the table as he pushed some steamed beans around on his plate. "Could still enter, just for the sake of being able to say you did."
Taron lifted his shoulder in a half shrug, "I guess, yeah. If you really want, I'll do it with you."
Before long, dinner disappeared and was replaced by cake rolls, puddings, and assorted treats alike. Taron plucked a strawberry tart from a mountain of various pastries, biting into it as he watched the front of the room by the high table. The owl lectern was removed, taken off into a storage cupboard at the side of the hall as it was replaced by an intricate, shining metal structure.
"Attention please." Dumbledore spoke, stepping onto the podium next to the strange, ornate tower just a few heads taller than he was. "I'd like to say a few words."
"So long as it's not the usual." Eli whispered, earning a poorly hidden snort of laughter from Taron, who nudged her in response.
"Eternal glory." The Hogwarts headmaster commanded the room once again. "That's what awaits the student who wins the Triwizard Tournament, but to do this that student must survive three tasks. Three extremely dangerous tasks."
Taron turned to Cedric, "I've changed my mind, this nutter is absolutely bringing in a dragon. I am so not prepared for that."
Cedric shook his head slightly, humour in his eyes at the boy's statement even as they didn't once look away from their headmaster.
"The ministry has seen fit to impose a rule. To explain all this, we have the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Mr Bartimus Crouch." Dumbledore introduced, nearly interrupted by a crash of thunder overhead, as the enchanted ceiling displaying the night sky began to act temperamental, consistent bursts of lightning causing a slight panic in the room.
All went quiet, once again, as a stranger who appeared a little more on the 'strange' side suddenly entered and sent a spindly pink-toned spell towards the indoor sky, calming it significantly.
"Who's that?" Reign asked, arching her neck to try and see over the heads of her fellow classmates, trying to catch a glimpse of the newcomer.
"No idea." Eli and Taron said simultaneously, not realizing they had spoken at the same time, far too busy watching the strange man look about the room with one bulging, twitching eye behind a simple leather glass eyepatch. He limped forward on a metal prosthetic, pausing only to take a sip of something from his flask and speak briefly with Dumbledore.
"After due consideration," The man from the ministry, Bartimus Crouch, stepped forward onto the podium, bringing most of the attention back to him, "the ministry has concluded that for their own safety, no student under the age of seventeen should be allowed to put forth their name for the Triwizard Tournament-"
An uproar of protest erupted from the students, mostly in disappointment at the idea that most of them wouldn't be allowed to participate in the Tournament, which they had already said would bring the winner 'eternal glory'. The Gryffindor table was especially noisy, shouting out their objections to the rule.
Taron, however, turned to Cedric with a triumphant grin, "Now, you can't even talk me into it."
author's note
this is a chapter brought to you by our Thankmas fundraising efforts over on wattpad!! <3