'what a way to be brought back to reality, with a freaking heart attack'
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HIS CHOSEN GIRL(II) [YOUR P.O.V]
"Your attention, please!"
It had taken awhile for Dumbledore to calm everyone down. He had allowed us to chat amongst ourselves before doing so, after all, we had a lot to discuss. Following the thrilling entrances from both the Beauxbaton and the Durmstrang students, there was some chaos within the hall. Not only was everyone excited about the foreign schools arriving, but there was also the news of the Triwizard Tournament.
I personally had no prior knowledge to this Triwizard Tournament. I was only familiar with what Dumbledore had just told us minutes ago, which was the bare minimum. From what he described, I wasn't exactly itching to sign up. Dumbledore mentioned something about these contests not being for the faint hearted. I've got no intentions on participating in life threatening contests. Not that I'd consider myself faint hearted, not in the slightest.
Nevertheless, I was kind of excited.
By now everyone had settled down and had their attention back on Dumbledore who stared back at us patiently. Not until every last student was silent though did he continue to talk.
"I'd like to say a few words. Eternal glory. That is what awaits the student who wins the Triwizard Tournament. But to do this, the student must survive three tasks. Three... extremely dangerous tasks.
"Wicked," the Weasley twins grin.
I'd bet money on the two mischievous boys being the first to submit their names.
"For this reason, the Ministry has seen fit to impose a new rule," Dumbledore continues.
While Dumbledore spoke, the door behind the professor's table opened slowly and silently. The man who proceeded through the door was as mysterious as the action itself.
He was a fairly large man. Fairly large for a normal man - at least as he seemed a sizeable amount smaller when compared to Hagrid who was sat a few feet away. He didn't appear to be particularly old, although he definitely wasn't young either.
He expressed nothing but seriousness and in the few short seconds I've seen him I found it impossible to imagine the man with a smile on his face. This seemed to match his intimidating demeanor quite fittingly.
His stern face was plastered with scars which made him that much more mysterious. I also observed that he walked with a limp, though I could do nothing but guess as to why. I couldn't help but wonder how he ended up with all these battle wounds.
