Dumbledore beckoned Hagrid over to greet Madame Maxime.
To everyone's surprise, Hagrid simply stared blankly at Madame Maxime, nodding only in response to Dumbledore's words.
Madame Maxime seemed oblivious to Hagrid's odd behavior, simply reminding him, "You should know, Mr. Hagrid, they only drink single malt whisky."
"Of course! Please rest assured that you little darlings are in my care, Madame Maxime!"
Unlike his earlier dazed state, Hagrid was extremely excited to continue the conversation. "Professor Dumbledore knows, I know a lot about magical creatures, like the Abraxan horses!"
He then winked "secretly" at Dumbledore. Please, Professor.
"..."
Dumbledore, understanding everything, chuckled slightly, but did not disappoint Hagrid. "Indeed, Hagrid is a professor of magical creatures."
Madame Maxime smiled, harboring a good impression of Hagrid.
Not only the headmasters, but the young wizards from the three schools also chatted happily on their way back to their temporary quarters.
Of course, the topic of interest for the other two schools remained Tom Riddle.
Beauxbatons School of Witchcraft and Wizardry's interest was understandable, but as for Durmstrang Institute... they revered the Dark Arts, and the most accomplished Dark Arts practitioner in the world was undoubtedly Voldemort.
...
"For the safety of the students, this competition is only open to those seventeen years and older."
Inside the castle's Great Hall, Dumbledore explained the participation requirements, then flicked his wand to the side, and a small golden tower transformed into a golden goblet, burning with blue flames.
"Students who meet the requirements and wish to participate, please drop a parchment with your name written on it into the Goblet of Fire."
Dumbledore withdrew his wand and solemnly reminded them again, "Please remember, once selected, withdrawal is not permitted."
He briefly explained the rules of the Triwizard Tournament, which consisted of three challenges, before beginning the welcome banquet for the two visiting schools.
Thanks to the convenience of magic, slightly expanding the Great Hall and adding two more long tables was no problem at all.
Headmasters Karkaroff and Maxime sat at the teachers' table.
After the banquet, led by Dumbledore, the two headmasters and some professors departed, leaving the students free to register for the Triwizard Tournament.
"The Triwizard Tournament! I, Hitra, have reserved the championship!"
"Get out of my way! You think you can beat me, Starling?! The championship is mine!"
"Come out and fight me one-on-one if you dare! I'll strike you down with my best magic—lightning!"
"Heh, you can fight for the championship. I, Chucky, only care about second place."
"There's only one champion in this competition!"
Watching the numerous seventeen- or eighteen-year-old wizards toss their parchment slips into the Goblet of Fire, Cassandra, somewhat annoyed, rested her chin on her hand, gently stirring her teacup with a silver spoon in the other.
The Triwizard Tournament… that sounds interesting, and might even bring Tom Riddle some prestige, but it's a pity I'm too young.
She'd seen some students who were also too young try to register, but the magic surrounding it prevented them from even getting close to the Goblet of Fire.
She was confident in her abilities, but why was age the only requirement for registration?
Couldn't they simply select those with the ability to avoid danger?
Or perhaps hold a preliminary round…
By this time, most of the eligible students had already registered and left, and the younger wizards who couldn't register felt it pointless to stay, heading to the library or the Quidditch pitch.
Cassandra remained seated, staring at the golden goblet burning with blue flames, perhaps pondering how to bypass the magic surrounding it.
But she also knew it was almost impossible for her, because it was Dumbledore's magic…
"What? You want to try it too?"
Cassandra snapped out of her reverie at the sound of the voice and turned around to see Tom Riddle standing behind her with a smile.
"Professor? Why are you…"
Cassandra was puzzled. Shouldn't Tom Riddle be busy with his own affairs at this time?
But before she could finish speaking, she heard Tom Riddle continue, "Go on, try it. How about it?"
"I…really?"
Cassandra's eyes widened slightly, her joy overflowing.
But Tom Riddle didn't answer her directly. Instead, he looked up at the Goblet of Fire, gesturing for her to try.
Seeing this, Cassandra didn't hesitate any longer, rising and walking towards the flaming golden goblet.
"…"
Standing before the Goblet of Fire, Cassandra stopped, solemnly taking out the parchment she had prepared beforehand with her name written on it, and then took a step forward…
The Goblet of Fire didn't stop her!
Realizing this, Cassandra immediately tossed the parchment into the Goblet of Fire.
As the blue flame rose slightly, her registration for the Triwizard Tournament was officially complete.
"Success?!"
Overjoyed, Cassandra turned around, only to find that Tom Riddle was no longer in the Great Hall.
Just as I expected, Tom Riddle has his own things to do, but registering his protégé was clearly more important than what he would be doing later.
That's why he was here.
Although she hadn't had a chance to share her joy with Tom Riddle, Cassandra wasn't disappointed. She needed to go back and prepare to perform well!
At this moment, the Great Hall was empty except for Cassandra. After she left, only the golden goblet burning with blue flames remained.
After the Great Hall doors closed, a figure silently appeared inside.
...
Eighth floor of Hogwarts Castle.
"I require a place to conceal certain items."
Sensing the user's need, the corridor wall opened, and Tom Riddle led two old-man-like "ghosts" inside.
Inside was a huge storage room, probably several stories high from floor to ceiling, piled high with all sorts of odds and ends, such as old cabinets with bubbly surfaces, a wizard bust covered in pockmarks…
"Ha… Godric Gryffindor, sometimes even I have to admit, you're a genius second only to me."
Salazar Slytherin looked up, surveying the Room of Requirement.
"Cease flattering yourself, Salazar."
Seeing Slytherin "bragging," Godric Gryffindor retorted without hesitation, "You have never won a duel against me before, and you still have the nerve to claim you are more of a genius than I."
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