ELIXIR: A Harry Potter Fan Fiction

Eight. The Celebration.

In the side-room, Sean stepped dully towards the other two champions and said a jumbled "congratulations" to them, blinking hard. He still did not feel quite present. His hands were shaking invisibly and he felt a buzzing in his head and around his jaw.

The boy from Beauxbatons, Oscar, returned the compliment, but the girl - who Sean decided now was quite scary up close - merely looked at him. Her dark eyes were heavily lined in charcoal and her cheeks were hollow. She was striking, but not in Evelyn's sweet, girl-next-door sort of way. She intimidated him. He could see already why she had been chosen as champion. Oscar, on the other hand, did not look the part. Sean had to assume that he was a particularly talented wizard, because he looked like he had never done a minute of physical activity in his life. He looked pampered. He meant to say something else, to ask them something - he did not know what - but the door opened again at that moment and he supposed they would have to chat later.

A beaming Professor Osset strode towards them, followed by Madame Maxime and Professor Pavlov, who immediately went to their own students to congratulate them. Sean's head of house, Professor Westwick, was close behind. He was a bespectacled man with a sharp, to the point way of speaking, but a rather parental nature all the same. He wrung Sean's hand, grinning and said over and over how happy he was that a Ravenclaw had been chosen while Mr. Fenwick - looking even more sickly than he had the previous weekend - and someone else Sean did not recognize filed into the room. The door shut behind them and everyone turned to face Professor Osset. Professor Westwick left his hand on Sean's shoulder.

"Well," said the headmaster, hands pressed together in a manner that very much resembled a person who had just been presented with their very favorite treat. "I think there can be no question that the goblet of fire has made three exceptional choices this year. I'm sure you're all anxious to go and celebrate with your friends so we will not deprive the remaining delegates from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang" - he nodded at Oscar and Eline in turn - "or the students of Ravenclaw house," - he nodded, now, at Sean, with an extra twinkle in his eye - "a chance to celebrate for much longer. We must however, offer a few pieces of instruction before you leave here for the night. 

"You'll remember Mr. Fenwick," he said gesturing in his direction. The bags under Mr. Fenwick's eyes were illuminated cruelly in the dim glow of the torches hung on the walls. Sean noticed a very small badge pinned to his lapel. It glinted gold when he moved. He could not read what it said, but the badge itself looked to be a full moon.

"But you have not yet met our Head of the Department of Magical Sports and Games, Mr. Boris Catchlove." The man Sean had not recognized raised a hand. He was a much taller man than Mr. Fenwick, and certainly filled out his robes much better. His stomach was a little rotund now, but Sean could tell he had been an athletic and able-bodied man in his day.

"Both these men will be joining the three of us headmasters as judges for the tournament," continued Professor Osset, "and have played a huge part in the planning of this tournament. We owe them much thanks for their work, of course, but there will be time for that later. Now, we must hear from Mr. Catchlove about the first task."

Sean glanced at the other two champions, neither of whom seemed to have expected that they would be thrown into the logistics of the tournament so quickly. He felt something knot up in his stomach again, but pushed it away. The task was not happening yet. There was still time.

"Thanks for that introduction," said Mr. Catchlove jovially. "This'll only be but a minute. Not got much I can tell you just yet. May I first offer my own congratulations to the three of you. This'll be an exciting tournament and I'm sure you're all well fit for the tasks we've set in store for you. 

"Your first task will take place on the first Saturday in November at seven o'clock. It is designed to test your ability to keep your head under pressure and to use your wit and knowledge as much as your magical ability. Beyond that, the task is, of course, a surprise. You will be notified of the specifics that day. I urge you to prepare in any way you see necessary, be that.. Well I shouldn't give you any hints, should I?" he said, grinning around at them all.