Thursday, September 1st, 1994
"Thank Merlin, for now the sorting is now over. I'm not sure how much longer my poor old stomach would last," Dumbledore said as he stood up. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts. Before we begin our banquet, I have some very important announcements to make. But they can wait. It is more important that you are all fed and watered. Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you."
Dumbledore sat down, and food started appearing on the table. There was roast beef with golden-brown Yorkshire puddings, surrounded by a sea of roast potatoes, gravy, and vegetables. Bangers, mash, fish and chips, and shepherd's pie were also on offer, along with a platter of cheese and crackers and a selection of cured meats and pickles for starters. In the middle, there were desserts. The students were treated to a lavish spread of sticky toffee pudding, trifle, and fruitcake, served with a selection of teas, coffees, and pumpkin juice.
"Is he a bit mad?" asked one of the new first-years sitting next to the seventh-years.
"Maybe. We really can't tell," Gabrielle replied, helping plate up the first year.
As the Great Hall buzzed with joy, the atmosphere shifted abruptly as a sudden bolt of lightning illuminated the sky outside, followed by a deafening clap of thunder that seemed to shake the very foundations of Hogwarts Castle. The students gasped in awe and trepidation, their eyes wide with fear and excitement as the storm raged on above them.
Amidst the chaos of the storm, the massive oak doors at the far end of the hall swung open with a resounding creak, revealing a wizard with a cane and one good leg. He stood at the entrance for a few moments, his silhouette outlined against the backdrop of the raging storm, his magical eye whirring and clicking as it scanned the room.
With each subsequent flash of lightning, the shadows danced eerily across the stone walls, casting flickering shapes that seemed to move with a life of their own. The figure remained unmoved, his expression stoic and impassive as he slowly began to make his way towards the head table.
With each step he took, a resounding thud from his cane and a weaker thud from his wooden foot reverberated around the hall. The older students could feel a strange vibration crawling up their bodies while the younger students tensed and made themselves smaller. The older students could have sworn the silence between each thud was unnatural and originated from the stranger.
As an unknown man approached the head table with rainwater dripping down his trench coat, the students watched in silence. Some had their eyes fixed on the figure walking past them, while others looked only at their food. Professor McGonagall put down her spoon and got up to approach him, her voice not audible over the din of the storm.
The stranger nodded curtly in acknowledgement before turning his attention to the headmaster, who sat at the head table with a knowing twinkle in his eye.
"Dumbledore," the stranger said, his voice gruff, stretching each syllable to an uncomfortable length.
Dumbledore smiled warmly in response. "Alastor. I am glad you made it." The headmaster stood as he raised his glass, tapping his fork on the rim thrice. "Students! Allow me to introduce you to your new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor and a dear friend, Alastor Moody. I suppose this is also the right time to mention a few more personnel changes."
With a nod from Dumbledore, Moody took his place at the head table, his presence starting a cascade of whispers from those who had heard rumours of the wizard's deed. The former Auror, in turn, settled into his seat with a heavy sigh, his gaze sweeping over the gathered students with a mixture of scrutiny and curiosity.
"Students! A few more moments of your attention before you may return to your conversations and food. For our next personnel change, Mr Moon IV will now be our full-time caretaker. Please do not cause him too much trouble. Professor Plank has returned to read Care of Magical Creatures, as Hagrid has returned to the position of Keeper of Keys while he earns his Teaching Merits. And our final personnel change: Professor Bins will be replaced..." Dumbledore's words were pushed aside as rounds of cheers surrounded the Great Hall, much to the confusion of the first years. "Students! A moment more of silence, please. Professor Bins has stepped down, and Professor Hall will not head the history department. Thank you!" Dumbledore's voice struggled to travel through the second round of cheers, but the message reached all the students' ears.
"Why is everyone cheering for a professor leaving?" the same first-year asked. "Does everyone hate him?"
"I would say everyone hates him. Students did not like the way he taught. It was monotonous and a drag. A lot of students instead used his lesson time to nap or catch up with other subjects," Jennifer explained.
"Wouldn't students like that? I would love to have a midday nap every once in a while," stated another first-year student.
"A lot of students are going to miss that, but they'll be glad they don't have to learn about the Goblin Rebellions again," Jennifer responded again.
"Percy!" interrupted a second-year student. "What's happening with Quidditch this year?"
"Reserves move up, and we recruit some new reserves," Percival replied after finishing his mouthful of Sheperd's Pie.
"My uncle told me Quidditch is going to be cancelled this year for some reason," said the same second-year.
"This is the first time I'm hearing about it. I'll ask Professor Flitwick for more details if it is cancelled," the head boy said as he returned to his food.
For the next forty minutes, the Ravenclaws mingled amongst themselves, asking about holidays and what they're looking forward to. The curious first years were interrogating the second and seventh years about Hogwarts and life at the magic school. Third and fourth years were discussing their EPQ ideas and how it went last year, respectively. The fifth and sixth years were discussing tips and tricks for their upcoming O.W.L.s. When there were only beverages left on the table, the headmaster once again stood up.
"Attention, students! I have a few more announcements to make before we sign the Hogwarts song and go off to bed for a restful night of sleep. First of all, Mr Filch has departed from the role of..." the Headmaster said as another round of cheers reverberated around the room. This time the old wizard let the cheers take their natural course before resuming. "Mr Filch has departed from the role of caretaker. You may see him around the school, so make sure to be on your best behaviour. Our new caretaker, Mr Moon, will be arriving tomorrow morning, just before dawn. He has had a look over the list of Forbidden Items and has informed me that the list of objects forbidden within the castle now includes Screaming Yo-Yos, Fanged Frisbees, Ever-Bashing Boomerangs, and Chocolate Marshmallow Bunnies," Dumbledore said with a mischievous beat. "I'm joking about that last one. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items that may be viewed in Mr Moon's office."
Dumbledore took a few seconds to quench his parched throat before continuing.
"Now. There is, apparently, a rather nasty rumour flying around about the school that Quidditch will not be played this year. That rumour, I'm here to tell you, is absolutely true." Indignation fills the Great Hall as Dumbledore smiles in amusement. "There is an explanation. You see, I was not meant to tell you about this until the end of this month. However, given the sombre mood and events outside our control, I have decided to impart some good news to you all. Hogwarts will this year play host to a legendary event that has not taken place in over one hundred years: the Triwizard Tournament."
Confusion rang through the hall, but one voice rang clear. Fred Weasley exclaimed, "You're joking! Quidditch being stopped for a silly tournament."
"We can't be having that," said the other twin. "We must revolt."
"REVOLUTION," shouted the twins in unison. "We must not let this great evil..."
"Fred. George," McGonagall's stern voice cut through the murmurs of the Great Hall. "Quieten down, please. I don't want to hand out detention on the first day."
"Thank you, Professor. For those of you who do not know, the Triwizard Tournament was originally conceived some seven centuries ago as a way for the three largest European wizarding schools to engage in a series of magical contests while their respective student bodies experienced the benefits of cross-cultural, social intercourse." A crackling, albeit bewildered, silence hung in the air, and Dumbledore continued. "In other words, one got to spend an entire year getting to know people who spoke a funny language. Unfortunately, due to the distressing high death toll, the tournament was cancelled... until now. On Friday, November 14, delegations from the Beauxbatons Academy of Magical Arts and the Durmstrang School of Wizardry will journey to Hogwarts. This year, our home will be their home. I ask only that you endeavour to make it a happy one. And now, let's go again. Everybody pick your favourite tune, and off we go."
'Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts...
Teach us something, please.
Whether we are old or bald,
Or young, with scabby knees,
Our heads could do with filling,
With some interesting stuff,
For now, they're bare and full of air.
Dead flies and bits of fluff,
So teach us things worth knowing.
Bring back what we've forgotten.
Just do your best; we'll do the rest.
And learn until our brains all rot.'
Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march, frown on their faces while still being upset about the season being cancelled. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand, and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.
"Ahh, magic to my ears. Prefects, could I ask that you guide the first years to their respective commons rooms, and for the rest of you, off to bed? We have a long one-day week ahead of us."