Tournament

Tournament

Chapter one: Journey and Arrival

Irina Tolstova looked out the foggy train window and sighed. It was winter in her fifth year at her school, and all students in the fourth year and above were traveling to another school in Europe by boat- but the students were taking the train first. She was thoroughly uninterested in the trip, and had decided that it was a waste of time to travel elsewhere. Irina was reclusive, and despised meeting new people. She especially hated being expected to make friends with people she had never met.

Ivan Smirnov, the headmaster of her school, wrapped in dense, heavy furs, paced the aisles of the train, eyeing all he passed with great mistrust. Irina knew that he wanted their school to win more than usual, as they had lost the previous tournament five years ago. He reached the front of the train. The Headmaster began to lecture the mass of students about proper behavior at the school they were to visit. Irina, uninterested, lent against the partially-open window and shut her eyes, letting the cold air from outside rush over her face.

"I expect each of you to bring honor to our school, and whoever is our Champion, I expect that he- or she- behave respectably in any person's presence." The addition of "or she" made some of the girls look up. This marked the first year that the tournament had allowed girls to participate, though some boys in Irina's class had made it all too clear that it was an absurd idea. However, her teachers had all applauded this decision by the Ministry of Magic, and Ivan Smirnov was only too happy to have a wider selection of students to bring to the tournament.

She leaned beside the window again, boredom overcoming her in the form of drowsiness. As she fell asleep, her last thought was, "It'll be fine. Anyplace has to be better than Durmstrang."

* * * *

Jean-Philippe sat at a gold decked table, in an enormous castle in France, laughing and surrounded by friends. He was fourteen and in his fourth year at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. He and his friends were laughing at a joke Jean-Philippe's best friend, Raphaël, had just told them, about a student from Hogwarts and a student from Durmstrang in a fight. After hours of talking about sports- mainly quidditch and football, which they all were involved in- the conversation had slowly turned to the upcoming Triwizard Tournament, which was to take place at their school this year.

"Who do you think will be Beauxbaton's champion, Jean-Philippe?" asked Raphaël, who had already asked the rest at the table the same question. Most of the members of the conversation had agreed that Christophe, a pompous but bright seventh year, was the most likely choice for champion, mainly because he was well-liked by teachers.

"Oh, of course, it will be me," he joked, and his friends all laughed.

"Not likely, Jean, not likely," Jacques, another boy in their year, responded. "Champions are almost always at least in the fifth year. It's possible, but it probably won't happen." The others laughed at his serious response to Jean-Philippe's joke.

"By the way," Jean-Philippe said, "do any of you know who the judge in the contest is?"

"No one will tell us," Julien grumbled. "My brother Paul won't tell me, he said that theixth and seventh years aren't supposed to tell us, even though they were there for the last tournament."

"Well, Durmstrang and Hogwarts students are arriving in two weeks, just before Halloween. We'll probably find out then." Raphaël looked at the clock in the main hallway, where they were. "I have a long history assignment due tomorrow!" he realized. "I'd better go finish it!"

With that, the small group disbanded, leaving all members eagerly awaiting the Triwizard Tournament.

* * * *

A group of four students stood in a boat, as it pitched and rolled its way across the English Channel on its way to France. They sneered as a group of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff students walked by. The four students were of the house of Slytherin, the least-liked school house of the four.

The four began to discuss the impending tournament they were traveling to.

"It's all rot, of course," said one boy, eyeing the Gryffindors' backs angrily. "They'll be chosen, the judge will have to choose the 'brave and daring leaders'", he said, quoting the Sorting Hat's song sarcastically.

"Who knows, everyone has a chance," Timothy Randell said, not paying close attention to the conversation.

"You would say that, wouldn't you, Tim? Anyway, I think it's silly to go to a dumb school like Beauxbatons. At least at Durmstrang they have some slightly more interesting people- and they teach the Dark Arts. Wouldn't that be neat, Hogwarts teaching the Dark Arts!"

"I just wish I could get those 100 galleons prize money!" said Emily Banders, aSlytherin girl. "Think of all the stuff you could get!"

"Yeah," said Henry Gammil. He was a tall, heavy-set sixth year who spoke little, if at all.

"Well, who cares anyway?" asked Timothy, paying closer attention now. "We can all enter our names in the stupid contest, even if we don't get picked. It would be great if we win, but if not, it'll show that there's bias for those annoying Gryffindors! Maybe we can ask Dermot about it. After all, he was in Slytherin when he was a student." Alexander Dermot was the current Headmaster of Hogwarts. He had recently taken the job, and had made some new regulations for muggle-born students that had pleased the Slytherins, and had infuriated everyone else.

The others liked this plan, and were still discussing the finer aspects of what to tell him when the boat reached France. They group disembarked, eager for Halloween and the tournament, when the Gryffindors would be paid back for everything.

* * * *

The students crowded around the castle, gazing at it in awe. It was almost as large as Hogwarts, but far more magnificent. Rows on rows of columns surrounded Beauxbatons, and the castle itself was made of smooth, silvery marble that glittered in the cold night. The Hogwarts students could see hundreds of lights on inside the school. Some of the younger Beauxbatons students were peering out at them through shimmering glass windows, staring at them as they made their way to the school in horse-drawn carriages.

When they reached the gates, Timothy and his friends, slightly apart from the others, stood near a marble pillar while a young, French witch with long, silvery blond hair, and a thick French accent, gave them directions.

"Hello, and welcome to Beauxbatons! My name eez Madame Tessier, and I am zee headmistress of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. The Hogwarts students will now please follow me to the guest chambers where zay will stay zis year. Tomorrow, all students will be given course schedules for this year at Beauxbatons."

She smiled at the large crowd and turned to head into the castle, but a loud noise to her left made her, and the rest of the crowd of students, stare at the lake that had started to sound like an approaching stampede. "Ah, the Durmstrang students are almost here!" she said happily. The lake began to bubble and froth, and the sound grew louder. A whirlpool appeared, and from it came a mast. Soon, the rest of a ship followed, as the Hogwarts and Beauxbatons students could only watch in astonishment.

* * * *

Irina was pleasantly surprised by the magical ship the Durmstrang students had used to travel to Beauxbatons. It was a tradition, according to the Headmaster. The ship was magically steered of course, with sails that turned on their own as the wind changed.

On the third day at sea, Headmaster Smirnov came on board from his cabin, for the first time on the trip. Although he said that he had been busy preparing for the Triwizard tournament, Irina had the distinct impression that he had been violently ill, and couldn't help noticing the faint hint of green on his face as he walked on deck.

"We will be arriving at Beauxbatons Academy in a few minutes. Go below deck and prepare for disembarking," he said, glaring at them. Students looked at each other questioningly. The ship was in the middle of the sea; how was it possible that they were anywhere near Beauxbatons? "Well, what are you all waiting for? Get below deck!" he shouted. Everyone hurried to not be the last one on deck with a very angry Headmaster.

Irina began gathering her belongings together, and just as she was finishing up, she felt an odd rattle go through the ship, followed by a whirring sound. She looked out the porthole window and gasped.

The entire ship was underwater and seemed to be sinking at a rapid rate. Brightly colored fish swam by the window, which could see quite clearly through the water. Soon the windows became darker as they reached the depths of the water- but it kept sinking. A moment later, the ship rolled over like a great dog and turned upside-down. It continued sinking, but Irina couldn't help noticing that it seemed to be ascending rather than descending now. Also, she didn't feel as though she were upside-down.

All of a sudden, the ship came to a halt. Irina glanced out of the window, and saw that the ship was out of the water. A rapidly darkening sky was above them, and in front of them, the huge palace of Beauxbatons stood.

Durmstrang had arrived.

* * * *

Jean-Philippe looked through the window of his dormitory where nine other fourth year boys were fast asleep. He stared, amazedly, at the lake where, seconds before, a ship had appeared.

He knew he should be asleep, and looked over his shoulder nervously at the closed door, which led to the main hall for fourth year students. Madame Renaudin, the ghost of the fourth years, always patrolled the halls at night, but it seemed that she had gone to visit one of her many friends on another floor, because Jean-Philippe heard nothing moving in the hallway.

He glanced out the window once more, and noticed that Madame Tessier was speaking again, probably telling the foreign students where the guest quarters were.

From behind him, a voice muttered sleepily, "What are you doing Jean-Philippe?" Jean-Philippe glanced over his shoulder guiltily, and saw Jacques staring at him. "Get back in bed; you'll get us in trouble!" Jacques leaned back and promptly fell asleep.

Jean-Philippe grinned and climbed back in bed after closing the light blue silk curtains. You could always count on Jacques to follow the rules.

All he had to do now was wait for morning, when he would get to meet the foreign students.

.