On Friday, October 30, no one was paying attention in class. All anyone could think or talk about was the upcoming arrival of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang that evening.
After potions class was cut short, we trailed back to our dorms to deposit our books as instructed and then promptly tailed back to the entrance hall, where the delegations for Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were set to arrive.
We were led outside by our professors and lined up in front of the castle. The air was freezing and crispy, but the anticipation was so high that no one complained about that. We all scanned the dark skies with excitement, wondering how the other schools were going to arrive.
For a long cold moment, there was nothing happening as we all stared around us anxiously. But then, Professor Dumbledore called out from the front, "Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"
Something extremely large was zooming across the deep blue sky, growing bigger and bigger as it reached us. It was a pegasus-drawn carriage, powder blue and the size of a house. People gasped and ooed as the carriage drew closer and closer.
The front three crowd of students had to move backwards as the giant carriage settled quite dramatically before us, the giant hooves of the pegasi galloping to a stop. The large door of the carriage had the recognizable coat of arms of Beauxbatons Academy.
The doors opened at once and immediately a very tall and slim woman stepped outside wearing a long brown satin dress with a fur collar and fur sleeves. She had a very short bob and a curtish look on her face.
"My dear Madame Maxime, welcome to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, grabbing her extended hand to kiss it.
After a short exchange between the two, Madame Maxime waved her hand at the carriage, calling her students out. Only about a dozen boys and girls, all looking like they were seventh-year students, emerged. Their robes were made of fine baby blue silk, which had them shivering under the cold Scottish autumn air. A few students had wrapped scarves and shawls, but it didn't seem to be enough to sustain them.
Rose-Marie Loreleïs, my cousin, stood amongst them, hugging herself as she shivered. She had her kinky black hair braided into dozens of braids that reached her mid-back and were adorned with silver beads and clips. I waved at her from afar, but she seemed too preoccupied with the cold to notice me.
"Is that your cousin?" Daphne asked me. I was with Daphne and Tracey because we were separated by year.
"She is. But I don't think she noticed me," I said.
Just then, the delegations for Beauxbatons were invited to warm up inside the castle while we waited for Durmstrang to show up.
"I wonder how Durmstrang will show up," Daphne said. "Surely not a flying carriage too."
"Maybe they'll show up on dog sleighs," I offered. "I mean, Durmstrang is very up North, isn't it?"
"Maybe. Or maybe they'll arrive by broom. I heard Viktor Krum goes to Durmstrang. Maybe he's leading everyone onwards," Daphne said, half-joking.
"Ooh, how about a flying house?" Tracey jumped in. "I don't have any reason for it. Just that it would be large enough for everyone."
Neither of our predictions were correct. Durmstrang actually showed in a large ship, which sailed out from the inside of the Black Lake, gleaming under the moonlight. I wasn't aware that our school lake was in any way connected to any other body of water, so I wondered what kind of powerful magic was at play here. Or maybe the Black Lake was enchanted to apparate to and from other bodies of water. Who knew?
The ship, after fully submerging from the water, glided towards the docks. After a plank pulled out from the ship, people began trailing out. Most of them were tall and broad-shouldered, but as soon as they neared closer to the lights, I realized they simply had large furcoats on which made them look bulkier than they actually were. Frankly, their school uniforms made me think of Astarion Lancaster's fashion.
The man at the front who was leading the group of students had silver and sleek hair, a goatee, and an almost gaunt-like face. He was Igor Karkaroff, the headmaster of Durmstrang, and he greeted Dumbledore with a toothy yellow grin. The two only exchanged a few words before Karkaroff marched on towards the front of the castle, looking up at it with fascination.
"Dear old Hogwarts," he said, still displaying his particularly yellow teeth. "How good it is to be here, how good ... Viktor, come along, into the warmth ... you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold..."
Of course... I had nearly forgotten. Viktor Krum, the famous quidditch player, the very seeker who caught the golden snitch at the Quidditch World Cup, this year. His team did not win, of course, but his skills as a seeker were nothing short of impressive.
Viktor Krum shuffled through some students to reach the front where his headmaster was. I had never seen him up close before. He had a curved nose, thick eyebrows, and his eyes were kind, curious, and brown... And as burly as he was, getting a good glimpse of his face reminded me that he was just a teenager too. Seventeen years old, of course, three years older than me, but still young.
Students whispered incessantly as they all entered the castle, following the Durmstrang students. Others rummaged through their pockets in hopes of finding a quill for an autograph from Krum.
Durmstrang students, seemingly unsure where to sit, unceremoniously gathered near the Gryffindor table, peering around uncertaintly. Meanwhile, Beauxbatons had picked the Ravenclaw table while they had been waiting for us to arrive. Despite being indoors, Beauxbatons students were still clutching their scarves and shawls around their heads, Rose-Marie included.
And then, rather unexpectedly, the students from Durmstrang seemed to have decided where they wanted to sit and promptly moved on over to the Slytherin table. By the time I reached the table with Daphne and Tracey, there weren't any spots near Durmstrang anymore as everyone scrambled to sit with them. We sat further down the table, feeling, frankly, envious.
And of course, Malfoy had to be the one seated right in front of Viktor Krum, bending forward to fawn over the famous quidditch player, no doubt.
"Hey."
I peered over my shoulder and was pleasantly surprised to have James slipping into the seat right next to me. The rest of the S4 weren't with him, however.
When James noticed the curious look on my face, he said, "The others wanted to stay seated near Durmstrang."
And sure enough, when I glanced over at the Durmstrang students, Wyatt, Isaiah, and Elijah had managed to find a seat in front of them. I was surprised Elijah was even sitting anywhere near Wyatt. I thought they were still fighting.
"Oh, you should have stayed with them. Looks like they're having fun," I said. The boys were smiling widely as they seemed to be having an interesting and fun conversation with some of the students from Durmstrang.
"I wanted to sit with you, like we always do," James responded as if it were obvious. "Besides, we'll have plenty more time to speak with them throughout the year."
"Why, thank you, James," I said.
Daphne and Tracey briefly exchanged hellos with James.
"So, I take it Elijah and Wyatt made up?" I said suddenly. The two were acting as if nothing had happened between. As if Elijah was never upset with Wyatt in the first place
"I don't know. No one said anything."
Before I could ask James to elaborate, Dumbledore spoke to everyone.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and — most particularly — guests. I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."
Dumbledore was beaming as he went on. "The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast. I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"
As expected, and rather instantaneously, food apparated before us on the serving plates. Hogwarts had outdone itself. There were loads more varieties of foods being served, many coming from France, or other European countries.
"And they still never serve Asian food," James said, though he still looked happy to be eating at last.
"Nor African," Tracey chimed in.
"Nor anything non-European," I added.
"I mean, it's still good food. Just a small observation," James clarified. He was serving himself some oysters.
"You like oysters?" I asked him, happy to see him try some food from my mom's country.
"Is that what they're called? I've never had any before," he said with a short laugh.
"Oh, wonderful. I can show you how to eat it — grab some of that lemon, will you? And —" I looked around the table, perplexed. "Huh? Where's the shallot vinaigrette?"
"What even is that?" Tracey queried.
"Wait. Have neither of you had oysters before?" I asked both of my friends.
"Is that the shallot thing?" James pointed a small saucer container with the vinaigrette I was looking for. It was hidden (from my angle) behind the oyster platter.
"Yeah," I said, then turned back to my friends for their answers.
"I have, but I did not like it very much," Daphne said, frowning with disgust at the oyster platter.
"I've never tried it, honestly," Tracey said.
"Okay, great. I'll make all of you try it, then," I said, pleased with this recent development. Who didn't like sharing food from one's country with others?
"So, everyone grab an oyster," I instructed, carefully picking one up from the platter, myself.
Daphne grimaced in disgust but did it anyway.
"Daph, you don't have to force yourself to try it again if you didn't like it before," I told her.
"No, it's okay. I hadn't tried it with the shallots thing you mentioned. Wait, are shallots onions?" she asked mid-grabbing an oyster.
"Yeah, basically," I said. "But it's different, and frankly, it's better. It's sort of sweet and tasty." I added before she could put back the oyster. Daphne did not look super convinced but looked like she was still willing to give it a try as she reluctantly placed the oyster pn her plate.
"So, now, this next step is really preference. You can either squeeze some lemon juice on your oyster and or put some of the shallot vinaigrette. I personally like both, but some people prefer just one or the other."
Everyone seemed to trust my taste buds as they each squeezed a piece of lemon followed by putting a tiny teaspoon of the shallot vinaigrette over their oyster.
"And how exactly do we eat this?" Tracey asked. Before I could say anything, James, right next to me, slurped his oyster. He smacked his lips and nodded with a positive hum.
"Hmm. Pretty good," he said, serving himself some more.
"So, I just sort of drink it?" Tracey questioned.
"Yes. Basically. You suck it in," I said, for lack of a better word.
Daphne and Tracey tried their first oysters at the same time as me while James was already moving on to his second and third oysters.
Daphne gagged but still managed to swallow, grimacing. Tracey winced slightly, but then looked like she was still deciding if she liked it or not.
"I'm not sure how I feel about it... Maybe without the shallots. Just lemon..." Tracey mumbled to herself as she took another oyster from the tray.
"It's so good," James affirmed, already on his fourth one.
"I'm never having oysters again," Daphne declared. She had emptied all of her water trying to wash off the taste.
I laughed. "I guess it's not for everyone."
"What is this, Maeve?" James asked suddenly pointing at the bouillabaisse.
"It's a seafood soup," I told him.
"Wow. You Frenchies really like seafood," James commented as he proceeded to serve himself some of the bouillabaisse.
"I don't really like it, honestly," I admitted as Tracey also served herself some of the soup.
Both James and Tracey tried it and hummed positively.
"It's quite good," Tracey said just as James said, "I like it."
When our dishes were finally empty, and everyone was filled and happy, Dumbledore stood up to address the crowd. That was also when I realized there were two extra men that were seated on either sides of Dumbledore. One of them, I immediately recognized to be Ludo Bagman, the announcer for the Quidditch World Cup game in London. The other man, I wasn't so sure. He simply looked like a typical, suited-up ministry man.
"The moment has come," Dumbledore said at last. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket—"
"The casket?" I repeated, bemused. James snorted next to me.
"—Just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation" — people politely applauded — "and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."
There was a bigger applause for Bagman, unsurprisingly. Not only was he the announcer at the Quidditch World Cup, he also used to be a very renown beater.
"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore went on, "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts."
Everyone seemed to be hanging onto Dumbledore's every word now that he uttered the word champions.
Dumbledore smiled and said, "The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."
I hadn't even noticed Filch was there until I saw him stumbling from the corner Great Hall near Dumbledore, carrying a rather large wooden chest. It looked extremely old but it was also encrusted with jewels.
Dumbledore continued on about the three difficult tasks carefully designed for the three champions this year, one champion from each school. Everyone was very quiet, absorbing all of this fascinating and rather thrilling information.
Dumbledore explained how the champions would be marked for how well they performed each task. The winner of the cup would be the one with the highest overall mark.
"The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."
Before I could begin to unravel what that meant, Dumbledore tapped the large casket three times. The casket slowly disapparated, leaving only what was inside. A rather large stoned cup, just as tall as a person, with blue flames filled to the brim.
"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," Dumbledore explained. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete."
I glanced around at a bunch of eager Slytherins. Wyatt, however, who was still seated further away with the Durmstrang students, looked rather disappointed that he wouldn't be able to put his name in (age limit), Elijah looked like he thought it was beneath him anyway, and Isaiah seemed more interested in seeing the drama unfold.
"I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody uder the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line."
Of course, it wasn't news to us that underage wizards weren't allowed to compete as Dumbledore had already announced it at the Start of Term Banquet.
"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet." He paused for a few seconds. "Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."
"What kind of magical bind is he talking about?" I asked my friends and boyfriend as the hall began to fill with chatter and clamor. "Surely not like an unbreakable vow."
"I doubt that it is a bound by death," James said reassuringly as we all got up from our seats and made our way out.
"Perhaps he was just trying to scare us," Daphne offered with a shrug.
"Dumbledore does not give warnings just to scare us. I mean, he usually understates just how dangerous things really are," Tracey remarked. "I mean, everything he said about the dementors was true."
"True. And about the third-floor corridor during our first year," I added.
"But he did not warn us that the magical binding contract with the goblet would kill us if we do not go through with it. Usually, Dumbledore specifies if something would kill us," James interjected.
"So, what kind of magical binding is it?" I mused.
James shrugged.
"I still think he's just trying to scare us," Daphne said.
When we got to the dorms, James pulled me away from my friends so that he could speak with me. He brought me to one of the empty study rooms, as he always did, but... it was occupied.
The layout of the room had changed completely. As well as a desk and shelves, there were now drawers and four-poster beds. And there were trunks with the famous Durmstrang school logo on them. The study room had been transformed into a dormitory for the new arrivals.
Before we could check the other rooms to see if they had been transformed as well, Durmstrang students rounded the corner, led by a seventh-year prefect, and began occupying every single study room.
All of our precious study rooms were gone. We had nowhere to go now. A part of me felt absolutely crushed.
"Well, I suppose there's always the couches in the common room," James offered with a shrug. We were just standing by my dormitory door, now.
"What about your dorm?" I asked, instead.
"Er... well, your brother is there," James said awkwardly.
Now that I really thought about it, Aiden hadn't really said anything to me about James being my boyfriend. I vaguely remembered him being opposed to James fancying me last year, but I always assumed he was just joking. Come to think of it, none of our conversations together in the past two months had ever mentioned James.
"Does Aiden know about us? Surely, he does..." I asked James.
"Yeah, he does know. He's just made it very clear with me that he did not want to see us, erm, well, he used the word fraternizing."
"Fraternizing?" I repeated, bemused. "What does he even mean by that?"
"Anything that couples do... showing affection, and, erm, kissing..."James managed to say, his cheeks showing a slight hint of pink, but I was probably just imagining things because that was unusual for James.
"Oh. I see," was all I could think to say to that.
"So, where would you like to go?" he asked.
"Well, the common room, I suppose—"
The loud blaring sound of music turning on halted me mid-speech. I hadn't even thought about it until now, but the common room was previously buzzing with chatter and excitement. Of course, Slytherins were going to throw a party now that Durmstrang was here.
James and I gave each other a curious look before ambling over to the common room to see what was going on.
This time, because Flint wasn't here anymore, having (somehow) graduated last year, there seemed to be new people in charge. And I immediately recognized them. Wyatt and Elijah. Elijah was setting up the correct music channel on the radio while Wyatt was levitating drinks in people's hands. Isaiah was there too, but he seemed a lot more reserved about taking charge and simply sat on a couch and watched his friends take over.
James and I just stood there dumbfounded. There were more and more Slytherins joining in, coming from the dorms. Even my brother was there, getting a drink with his friends, Montague and Pucey.
Durmstrang students were extremely popular. It was like everyone wanted to talk to them or dance with them, and they seemed to love the attention. Even Viktor Krum had a smile on his face as Wyatt levitated a drink in his hand.
When Wyatt noticed me and James, he was about to levitate a drink towards us, but I shook my head, grabbing James' arm and dragging him over to the sixth-year boys' dormitories.
"What are you—?"
"My brother isn't here. We got your whole dorm to ourselves," I said.
James faltered slightly, but acquiesced.
"Anyway, I bet Millicent is in my dorm anyway," I said as I opened the door to James' dorm. Sure enough, there was no one here.
I had never really set foot in here before. Well, I had, but not really. So, I couldn't help but feel excitement bubbling inside me as I neared what I assumed to be James' bed.
The layout of the dorm was just like mine, but the trunks and personal items were, of course, different.
"That's Isaiah's bed. Mine's just here," James indicated, bringing me over to the bed that was just across from Isaiah's bed. I allowed myself to fall back-first onto the bed, and James chuckled as he sat right by me, taking his shoes off.
"It's so strange to see you on my bed," he said. He pushed himself back until he reached the back board, where he leaned on the pillows like he often did when he was on my bed.
"You'll get used to it," I said, turning my body around so that I would lay on my elbows instead, getting a better look of James.
Before James could say anything else, I climbed forward on the bed until I reached the pillows and lay right next to him. He placed an arm over my shoulders and I leaned closer into him, resting my head on his chest.
We'd only started cuddling like this very recently, and usually, it was on my bed with Penny on James' lap, where we would pet her and give her love.
But Penny wasn't here right now.
When I peered up at James, wondering what he was thinking about at this instance, he cupped my face gently with his free hand and pressed his lips on mine. He deepened the kiss for a moment, parting his lips a bit more, but then he pulled away. I then went back to resting my head on his chest.
We layed there for moments longer, quietly. The tiredness from the day suddenly getting to us, so we had nothing left to say. But I enjoyed our quiet company, nonetheless.
And I felt myself drifting off somewhere else. My eyes shut close, and I could feel myself falling asleep. I would have fought against it, but resistance felt futile. I was so comfortable and happy where I was, in James' arms. Why would I bother waking up?
"What the bloody hell are you doing, Lancaster?!"
I jolted awake. And so did James apparently as I felt his body jerk unexpectedly under me. I rubbed my eyes, realizing I James and I had fallen asleep on his bed.
Aiden was fuming, standing over the bed, peering down at us in fury. Well, more at James than at me.
"Aiden?" I mumbled, still feeling really tired. "What time is it?" I then asked groggily.
"Maeve, go back to your dorm, right now. I have to speak with Lancaster," Aiden said authoritatively. I blinked, still not feeling fully awake yet.
"Nothing happened, mate," James said, his voice only slightly hoarse. "We just fell asleep."
"Maeve, get out of here," Aiden warned, his eyes fixed on James.
"Wait, Aiden, don't be upset with James. It was my idea to come here in the first place. And he's telling the truth. We just fell asleep. Nothing happened," I insisted, more awake now that I was speaking. Anger flickered away from Aiden's eyes for a split second, but it wasn't enough to slice his intense glare directed right at James.
"Let me just escort her to her dorm, alright?" James said, raising his hands up in surrender.
"You promised you wouldn't, you prick," Aiden said, crossing his arms.
"I didn't, and I'm not planning to either. You'll just have to believe me," James insisted.
"Planning what? What are you two talking about?" I asked, my gaze darting from my brother to my boyfriend.
"Maeve, just go back to your dorm," Aiden instructed rather calmly.
"I'll explain later," James said, urging me to leave with his eyes. But I already knew what Aiden was hinting at. I just wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, allow him to admit to it first. But apparently, that was not going to happen with my stubborn brother.
"What, Aiden? James is not allowed to kiss me? He's not allowed to hug me? Aiden, James is my boyfriend. You're just going to have to butt out," I said adamantly.
"That's not it, Maeve. You're too young to understand," Aiden said stubbornly.
"Okay, so you're talking about sex. Do you think I'm still ten years old, or what? I know what sex is. I'm not stupid — and whatever James and I do or don't do is none of your business, anyway. Don't act like you were so innocent when you were fourteen. I know why you're always telling me to leave the house whenever you invite Miles over. Stop treating me like I'm an idiot."
And I didn't mean to say all of this. But I did. I didn't mean to let James know about Miles and my brother. Frankly, I was never planning on letting anyone know about it, not until Aiden felt comfortable enough to share it. But it was too late. Now, Aiden knew that I had know this entire time. Now, James knew.
Aiden quickly glanced around him, and seemed relieved to see that no one else had overheard. But his expression had morphed from angry to... mortified. Utterly embarrassed, crushed, humiliated. Betrayed.
And without another word, Aiden stormed out of the dormitory, slamming the door shut on his way out. And all I felt was intense shame and regret.