𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙒𝙞𝙡𝙙 || 𝑺𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒖𝒔 𝑺𝒏𝒂𝒑𝒆

029 | Igor Karkarov

Y/N's POV:

''You are not allowed to talk; you can only whisper. Even if you do your best, that's not good for you to heal; take your time.'' My mother said, while giving me a feather and a piece of parchment to write on if I wanted to tell something to anyone, I quickly had to start school again. After I was clothed, I was sent to the Great Hall, where everyone would wait for the other schools to present themselves for the Triwizard Cup.

Everyone looked at me and began to whisper. I walked past Draco, whom I didn't even glance at, although I saw regret in his eyes. ''I thought you were dead, Black. Seems like God didn't want you.'' I turned around to see Saviar again, spitting at me. I for sure did not miss her. ''The only one who wouldn't be accepted by God is you, Saviour." They would throw you downtown to rub Lord Satan's feet, I whispered lowly while making my voice louder with my wand. ''Ms. Black, I permitted you not to speak; your voice needs to heal.'' I looked around me to see Severus Snape standing with an annoyed glance, yet an understanding one.

''Welcome students! We are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year. ''You're joking!'' said Fred Weasley loudly. The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively. No, I am not joking, Mr Weasley," he said, "Though I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar. Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

''Er, but maybe this is not the time... no," said Dumbledore. "Where was I? Ah, yes, the Triwizard Tournament. Well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation and allow their attention to wander freely. The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the Tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities—until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the Tournament was discontinued."

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which have been very successful. However, our own Departments of International Magical Co-Operation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that, this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger."

"The Heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang have already arrived, and on Halloween, we will have the Champion Selections. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand-gallion personal prize money."

"Eager though I know all of you will be able to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an agreed restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age—that is to say, seventeen years or older—will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words—is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the Tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below the sixth and Seventh grades will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champions." His light-blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over to Fred and George's mutinous faces. "I, therefore, beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen, but enough of these long stories; here are the Beaubatons!''

The moment those last words were said, pretty, blue-dressed women all walked in a row towards the end of the Great Hall, showing off butterflies—a little too much for me, I personally had to say. All the boys were gawking, and I caught myself looking at Professor Snape, wondering if he would gawk too. Thankfully, it was just his blank stare. He looked at me, saw me staring, and even if he didn't know why I did it, he nodded for me to come towards him, just like Dumbledore nodded his head over to him. I tried to get unnoticed towards the grand table; I didn't succeed, but no one questioned me. The moment I stood behind Professor Snape, the door opened again, and Bulgarian men with fire walked in. I didn't pay much mind to it. I paid attention to the grown man with a boy next to him. Something made him look around, trying to find something until his eyes laid on me, and he smirked. He found me.

I didn't know who this man was, but I knew that he was the one reason I had to walk up to Professor Snape; he didn't sit on a chair; he stood in front of me, protecting me with his body.

The man walked up to me. ''Dear Severus, long time no see; I didn't know you had our precious finding.'' Fire twirled around in his eyes. He took my hand and kissed it. ''Igor Karkarov, má lady.'' I took his hand in mine and shook it vigorously, keeping my head high. ''Y/N Black, Mr Karkarov, I whispered softly. Everyone sat down, and I was taken to a different room.

''I can't explain why, but stay away from that man if you want to keep living.''