0505 Arrival

The crisp autumn air of late October had settled over Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, bringing with it an electric atmosphere of anticipation that hadn’t been felt within the castle walls for generations.

It had been precisely a week since the heads of houses had made their announcement throughout the castle: Durmstrang Institute and Beauxbatons Academy of Magic would arrive on the evening of October 30th for participating in the legendary Triwizard Tournament. Though the students in Physical Education class had gotten an early glimpse of this exciting news, the official announcement had transformed the usual academic atmosphere into one crackling with excitement and speculation.

The castle itself seemed to be holding its breath in anticipation. Even the professors, many of whom had spent decades teaching at Hogwarts were caught up in the growing excitement. They had never witnessed such a grand occasion of a large-scale visit from other magical schools.

As the day drew nearer, subtle yet noticeable changes began manifesting throughout the castle.

The most apparent transformation, as Hermione had pointed out, And Harry & Ron also noticed was in the demeanor and appearance of their female classmates, particularly those in the upper years. Where once simple hair ties and practical styles had been good enough, now elaborate braids, enchanted hair accessories, and meticulously crafted hairstyles decorated the heads of most Upper-year young witches throughout the school.

The professors, too, seemed to have undergone a transformation of some sorts, teaching their lessons with renewed vigor and passion, as if they had fears of potential criticism from visiting students, which would indeed be embarrassing.

The weather had also taken a turn towards winter by late October. Despite the brilliant sunshine that painted the grounds in golden light, the air carried a chill that left Harry, Ron, and Seamus shivering as they made their way from their cozy Gryffindor dormitory down to the Great Hall.

The female students typically woke up earlier than boys, and Hermione was no exception to this. As Harry’s eyes found her familiar figure at the Gryffindor table, he noticed she was already well into her morning routine. Her S.P.E.W. badge gleamed on her robes as she sat before a nearly finished plate of scrambled eggs, and her milk glass was also half empty, telling she’d been awake and here for quite some time already.

“Blimey!” Ron’s exclamation carried a note of genuine wonder as he dropped onto the bench across from Hermione, his eyes wandering across the Great Hall’s transformed interior. “Would you look at this place? It’s completely different!”

Indeed, Ron’s amazement was reasonable. The Great Hall had undergone a magnificent transformation overnight, as if the castle itself had put on its finest attire for the approaching arrival of the visiting schools.

Massive silk banners poured from the enchanted ceiling, each representing the four noble houses of Hogwarts. The Gryffindor banner was in its bold red silk and dazzling gold lion, while Ravenclaw’s banner glistened in elegant blue silk, its bronze eagle soaring proudly. Hufflepuff’s banner glowed warmly in yellow silk, with its black badger, and Slytherin’s banner flowed in emerald green silk with its silver serpent gleaming.

But it was the banner behind the staff table that truly dominated the hall’s decorative arrangement. It displayed the Hogwarts coat of arms in its full glory: the four house mascots – lion, eagle, badger, and snake – united in perfect harmony around a large letter H, symbolizing the unity of the school despite its diverse houses.

The usual morning chatter had taken on a different atmosphere, with lively discussions erupting at all four house tables. The typical topics of homework assignments and Quidditch scores (not of school as no competitions were held this year

) had been temporarily forgotten, replaced by eager speculation about the approaching visitors and the Triwizard Tournament.

Near the end of the Gryffindor table, discussion between Ginny and Colin captured the attention of many nearby students. Colin leaned forward his eyes bright with curiosity as he asked what seemed like the question on everyone’s minds.

“How do you think they’ll make their way here?” Colin’s voice carried the infectious enthusiasm. “The Hogwarts Express, perhaps? They’ll need to bring enough supplies for the entire academic year – just imagine the mountain of trunks and luggage they’ll need to transport!”

Ginny shook her head thoughtfully and said, “That would be quite problematic, wouldn’t it? They’d have to somehow reach London first just to board the Hogwarts Express, and with such a large group of foreign wizards and witches, they’d be bound to draw attention from the Muggles.”

Harry, who had been listening intently to their conversation, found his thoughts initially drifting to the most obvious magical transportation method for him – Flying broomsticks.

The image of dozens of students soaring through the clouds on their brooms briefly captured his imagination, but his practical experience with long-distance flying quickly dismissed the notion. Even as someone who lived for the thrill of Quidditch and considered himself quite comfortable on a broomstick, Harry had to acknowledge the impracticality of such a journey. The physical strain of crossing multiple national borders by broomstick, not to mention the logistical nightmares of weather conditions and maintaining secrecy, made it an unrealistic option.

His contemplation of magical transportation methods was interrupted by George’s frustrated voice as he slumped into a seat near Ron.

“Professor McGonagall’s being absolutely tight-lipped about the champion selection process,” He grumbled, stabbing at his breakfast with unusual force. “All I got for my troubles was a stern reminder to concentrate on transfiguring my raccoon properly. As if that’s more important than this!”

Ron’s face fell slightly at this news, and he turned to Harry with a look of determination in his eyes.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” He began, his voice taking on that particular tone it always did when he was trying to convince himself of something. “The tournament tasks themselves – they can’t possibly all require participants to be of age, can they? I mean, think about all the dangerous situations we’ve handled already. If we could just find a way to participate–” His voice trailed off momentarily before he added with particular emphasis, “A thousand Galleons would certainly make up for our loss at the Quidditch World Cup, wouldn’t it?”

Harry remained tactfully silent, knowing full well the source of Ron’s obsession. The incident with the leprechaun gold from Ludo Bagman still irked Ron deeply. Harry himself found it difficult to believe that the jovial, seemingly straightforward Ludo Bagman, the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports would deceive students over some gold galleons.

Most likely, Bagman had just made a mistake, but Harry knew that Ron and his twin brothers had written to Bagman to inquire about this matter but they had never received a reply, which made the truth of the matter somewhat suspicious.

Hermione, who had been engrossed in what appeared to be a particularly thick book about magical competitions throughout history, suddenly looked up from her reading, her eyelashes fluttered as she prepared to suggest what was undoubtedly going to be a well-researched opinion on the matter. However, her words were cut short as her attention was caught by an unexpected figure entering the Great Hall.

“Professor Watson?” The surprise in Hermione’s voice drew several heads in the direction of her gaze.

Harry felt his own excitement bubble up as he whispered in surprise, “When did he get back? Do you think this means Snape will have to give up teaching that last period this morning?”

The prospect of any reduction in time spent in the Potions classroom with Snape was always a cause for celebration among the Gryffindors.

Surprisingly, Professor Watson didn’t head to the staff table but instead made his way directly toward their section of the Gryffindor table. Hermione thought he might be coming to ask about last Friday’s and this Wednesday’s Physical Education training sessions, but instead, Professor Watson beckoned to Fred and George.

“Fred, George, a moment of your time, if you please,”

With identical looks of confusion on their faces, they rose to follow him out of the Great Hall.

“What do you reckon they’ve done this time?” Ron’s brow furrowed as he watched his brothers’ leaving backs. The twins’ reputation for causing trouble was deep-rooted, and being summoned by a professor usually spelled trouble.

“I suspect,” Hermione began, fixing Ron with one of her meaningful looks that meant she had already pieced together the puzzle, “that Professor Watson is taking preemptive measures. There will undoubtedly be students attempting to circumvent the rules and try to find ways to participate in the champion selection for the tournament, and knowing Fred and George…”

The twins’ returned sooner than anyone expected but puzzlingly, their expressions were rather strange— they looked happy yet notably disappointed. More curiously still, George’s robes seemed to be concealing something considerable, creating an obvious bulge in the robes.

“What happened?” Ron’s question burst forth the moment his brothers settled into their seats, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Well, the good news is—” George’s voice carried a distinctive note of triumph as he carefully pulled back a portion of his robes, revealing a large money pouch that clinked nicely with every movement. His eyebrows rose with barely contained pride as he announced, “We got Remus’s investment – a full thousand Galleons!”

Clang!

The sound of Ron’s spoon clattering against his plate echoed through their section of the table with a clear ring.

“But there’s bad news,” Fred interjected, releasing a heavy sigh. “Remus won’t be able to partner with us in opening the shop. According to Professor Watson, he’s taken on the management of some workshop and simply doesn’t have the time to spare for our project—”

“Remus is managing a workshop?” Harry’s green eyes widened behind his round glasses, genuine surprise tinging his voice. “Whose business would that be?”

“We tried to get that information out of Professor Watson,” George’s expression soured as he cast an irritated glance toward the staff table, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Watson were engaged in what appeared to be a serious conversation. “But you know how adults are – they always keep secrets from us!”

Harry’s face scrunched in concentration, looking similar to his cousin Dudley attempting to solve a math problem. “But who would be willing to hire Remus, considering… well, I mean… besides Professor Dumbledore?”

He left the specific mention of Lupin’s condition unspoken, but his meaning was clear to those who knew the truth.

Harry looked at Hermione and found that she was looking thoughtfully at Professor Watson who was talking to Snape.

“Oh!” Harry suddenly exclaimed realizing. “That’s possible!”

“A thousand Galleons…” Ron mumbled in a daze, “Can you imagine, Harry? That could have been us too. If only Bagman hadn’t…” His voice trailed off before strengthening with determination. “I need to find him. Maybe Dad can help recover what we’re owed. We won fair and square, after all.”

The news of Remus becoming a workshop manager and the twins’ receiving a solid thousand Galleons briefly became a hot topic within Harry’s circle. Ron was distracted all day, barely paying attention to the impending arrival of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons.

But except for their small group, the rest of the students remained hooked on the imminent arrival of their international guests.

The excitement continued to build throughout the day, creating an almost tangible current of anticipation that flowed through the castle’s corridors.

No one paid attention in class, all thinking about the arrival of students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang that evening. Even the normally dreaded Potions class seemed less oppressive than usual, as if the upcoming celebrations had somewhat tempered even Snape’s brooding nature.

During the final morning period of Physical Education class, many students repeatedly attempted to extract information from Bryan about the tournament’s tasks and selection procedures, though their efforts were fruitless.

When the final bell of the afternoon classes finally rang, its sound triggered an immediate flurry of activity throughout the castle. Harry, Ron, and Hermione practically sprinted to Gryffindor Tower. They hastily dropped off their bags and books in their dormitories as instructed, donned their cloaks against the evening chill, then hurried back down the staircases to join the gathering in the entrance hall.

It was a cold, crisp evening, with night falling and a pale, translucent moon already hanging above the Forbidden Forest.

The heads of houses moved with efficiency among their students, maintaining order with a mixture of stern commands and gentle guidance.

The entire staff, except for Hagrid, had assembled in an impressive line behind the students, their formal robes and serious expressions giving an air of solemness to the occasion. Even Filch had donned his moldy tailcoat for this formal occasion.

Professor Watson and Headmaster Dumbledore were the only two professors standing in front of the student lines, facing the direction of the Black Lake, their expressions calm.

The waiting crowd had begun to show signs of restlessness when Dumbledore’s voice suddenly rang out across the gathering, “Ah, unless I’m very much mistaken, the Beauxbatons delegation has arrived!”

Bryan lifted his head slightly, his gaze deepening.

Everything was finally about to begin.

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