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The great hall has always been crowded. However, now that we're sharing the space with an additional two schools, it feels as though we're being squished together in a package of sardines.
"Sit down," Dumbledore's voice is clear and loud despite the deafening chatter of a thousand students scrambling to find somewhere to sit. "Please."
"Well what'd ya think I'm trying to do?" I exclaim, exasperated.
I must've spent a minimum of fifteen minutes scouring the hall in search of my friends. We'd gotten separated at the entrance, I'd never realized how large the great hall actually was, or how easy it was to get drowned out in it.
Suddenly I feel a pair of hands on my waist, a pair of hands that definitely don't belong to me. Fear fills my body until I spin around before then placing a hand on my chest feeling my racing pulse gradually normalize as I meet my favorite pair of eyes, a striking emerald green. My heartbeat quickens once again, though this time I don't deem it to be out of fear.
I raise the hand that wasn't clutching my chest and smack the grinning boy's shoulder. "Harry Potter, you absolute nuisance."
"Sorry," he said while his smirk of satisfaction and mischievous eyes said otherwise.
His hands dropped from my waist instead reaching for my hand and he lead me to the rest of our group, opposite to where I was looking.
I sit myself down beside Harry, laying my head on his shoulder, the one I had smacked moments ago. A disappointing yet unsurprising exhaustion runs over me from a mere fifteen minutes of wandering the hall.
"Now the moment you've all been waiting for," begins Dumbledore, anticipation growing within the room as he does so. "The champion selection."
Ah, the champion selection. Personally, I haven't been doing too well of a job at getting myself psyched for the Triwizard Tournament, so I wasn't finding today's events overwhelming exciting. However I do listen regardless.
Dumbledore spins quickly, raising his hands in the direction of the nearest lights hung on the wall of the dining hall. The light then dims, magically of course and Dumbledore repeats this process on all other lights within the hall.
Next he places both hands on the goblet of fire and he holds them there for a moment before taking some steps back and dropping one arm but leaving the other on the goblet.
I've rarely heard Dumbledore recite spells. The spells he casts are usually physical rather than verbal. I believe he's powerful enough to cast the spells with his mind, that the fancy gestures, some of them at least, are just for show.
I watch the goblet, blue flames dancing subtlety on the rim. The icy colored flames then transition into a purple before losing the blueish hue entirely being replaced with a fiery red.
A small folded parchment shoots out of the goblet, small sparks flying out with it. I was surprised Dumbledore didn't even wince as he effortlessly catches it in his hand.
He reads it and despite my slight disinterest in the Triwizard Tournament, I found I was filled with curiosity.
"The Durmstrang champion is Viktor Krum."
There was an eruption of cheers within the hall, but it was most prominent from the section of the Durmstrang boys; each of them jumping up and shouting in excitement as they harshly pat their famous classmate on the back.
Viktor subtly smirks as he makes his way to the center of the hall, a discreet pride radiating off of him. Dumbledore shakes his hand before directing him out of the hall, presumably to wait somewhere else while his fellow champions are chosen.
The fiery flames turn red again and another parchment emerges, this one a pretty blue with a golden trimming and as it gracefully flutters down into Dumbledore's hand you can easily conclude that it holds the name of a Beaxbatons student.
"The champion from Beauxbatons, is Fleur Delacour."
The section of the hall with girls in blue dresses clap excitedly and let out a few small exclaims, nothing too unladylike as they do have a reputation to uphold.
A gorgeous girl with golden locks arises from her seat smiling graciously at her fellow students. I decide that she's Fleur Delacour and I grow annoyed; even her name is beautiful. She walks over to Dumbledore gracefully, to be so naturally light on her feet she must be a dancer. She soon exits the same way Viktor does leaving only one last champion to be chosen.
"The Hogwarts champion, Cedric Diggory!"
I stand up excitedly clapping louder than I had for the previous two champions. Cedric puts on the same 'embarrassed by the attention' facade causing me to amusedly roll my eyes.
"Excellent!" Dumbledore exclaims after congratulating Cedric and dismissing him with the rest of the chosen champs. The old man scours the hall satisfied with the success of the event.
"We now have our three champions. But in the end, only one will go down in history. Only one will hoist this chalice of champions, this vessel of victory... the Triwizard Cup," he spins around an arm shooting out and pointing to the front of the hall.
On the top of the short set of stairs at the front of the hall was a fairly large cup very much resembling a trophy, though rather than the traditional gold, the cup had silver handles laced with intricate details and it illuminated the hall with a bright blue light shining from within.
The hall soon filled with small sounds of appreciation and murmurs of amazement.
My attention then turned to Snape who was progressing to the center of the hall, a look of confusion on his face. I turned, attempting to follow his gaze but I saw nothing out of the ordinary.
Dumbledore, catching on to his colleague's mannerisms turned as well. The goblet of fire begins to make an odd fizzling sound. Dumbledore walks towards the cup and the blue flames erupt from the cup. The flames transfer from blue to red, as it had already done three times tonight and a fourth parchment flies out of the goblet.
My confusion grew. If a champion from each school had already been selected, why was another name presenting itself?
Dumbledore effortlessly caught the slip of paper and unfolded it immediately. A threatening frown appearing onto his usually smiling face as he murmurs a name.
I sat up straight in my seat. I clutched the arm of the boy on my right. It couldn't be, surly I had misheard. He couldn't possibly have said-
"Harry Potter." ✵
— [note(s) from the author] -hi i have a concussion so there may be lots of things wrong -first chapter of 2019!!!!
