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Bleu

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A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« on: September 21, 2013, 07:21:13 am »
A Tournament’s Revival


Aradok Lundstrom had been born in an utterly normal wizarding family, with a humble home and a humble reputation. The boy was the youngest of three, with the same short brown hair and navy blue eyes he shared with his sisters. His parents were both Ministry workers, and earned a reasonable living. The family was not used to a life of luxury, but they never went without something that they needed. No, they were just were they ought to be.

They were happy as they were.

The boy’s parents attended Hogwarts a few years after the final defeat of Lord Voldemort, both belonging to Ravenclaw house. Aradok’s oldest sister Verity was sorted into Ravenclaw house like her parents, as was the middle daughter, Serena.  Each of their studies proved fruitful enough to bring the family a good future, but neither daughter was prey to much attention throughout their educational career. Their OWLs were quite solid, and their futures promising.

Even when their youngest child, Aradok, went to Hogwarts, the Lundstroms were not the topic of conversation. Other families had been more successful in causing envy among the wizarding world. Although pureblood families in their elitism had been sinking since Voldemort’s defeat, some still remained, feeling like their lineage was that of royalty. The Lundstroms were not bothered by this, in spite of it all. They led a comfortable life, and had nothing to be ashamed of.

Some things, however, slowly began to change for them.

The first change was Aradok’s sorting into Gryffindor house, very much unlike the rest of his family. A part of the boy wished to be sorted into Ravenclaw, but he settled into Gryffindor easily enough, making friendships with people of all houses. He found that his studies were not as hard as his sisters made them out to be. He excelled in almost every subject, save Herbology and History of Magic. He made the house Quidditch team in his second year, the year that Serena graduated, and team captain his fourth.

Aradok’s fifth year was a big year for him and his family. It started off well when he received a prefect badge by owl post, and got even better once he completed his O.W.L. examinations. He received three ‘Exceeds Expectations’, and seven ‘Outstanding’ scores. He did not measure up to the legend that was Hermione Granger, but he had achieved the highest scores for the house in years. Several other students from his generations excelled in their own OWLs.

After his fifth year, people began to take notice of Aradok. Their family began to receive letters from the ministry in congratulations. His sisters, who could have very easily grown jealous, supported and reveled in his success, a gesture which Aradok appreciated. A part of him didn’t like the attention he was getting because he felt like he was outshining his family. This was not the case. The more Aradok garnered attention, the more Verity and Serena’s own accomplishments got their share of the spotlight. They were even promoted in their respective fields.

The attention Aradok was getting, however, was still minute in comparison to the attention some of the more famous students were getting. In their eyes, Aradok was still the underdog in the world of wizard socialites. He was still a nobody who was merely aspiring to become someone of legend. They paid him no real mind.

Presently, Aradok found himself in platform 9 ¾ saying goodbye to his parents, and his now employed sisters. They each looked at him as if he was a jewel, something for them to show off to the world. Aradok, although flattered, did not like it. He wanted his parents to treat him the same way they always had, with respect and trust rather than admiration. One of the downsides to his apparent success was the expectations that now followed him. He was about to go into his sixth year at Hogwarts, and this year, especially, he was expected to deliver.

There had been rumors that the famous Triwizard Tournament was to be revived this year, after an absence of almost 50 years. The last tournament, as everybody knew, was won by the legendary Harry Potter, which also marked the turning point in Lord Voldemort’s return. If such an iconic event was really making a comeback, this would be a huge year for Hogwarts, and a historic event for the wizarding world. If the rumors were true, Aradok wanted to deliver. Such rumors were confirmed by the Ministry a week before the start of term.

Platform 9 ¾ was buzzing with the recent news. First years were looking more confused than ever, while second years were glad that they were no longer first years. Older students were already wagering bets on who would be the Hogwarts Champion and who would successfully ask a Beauxbatons girl to the Yule Ball. There could only be one champion, though, and the competition was tough.

“Ara!” A voice close to the crimson steam engine called his name. It was a friend of his, Geoffrey, another Gryffindor in whom Aradok had found honesty and trust. “Come on, I’ve already got us a compartment.” The boy always liked being early, almost as much as he liked being mean. “Go on, then!” He said when Aradok signaled that he still needed to say goodbye to his folks.

Their goodbye was not a long one, nor was it sentimental. Aradok simply gave a one armed hug to his parents and sisters, and ignored their good luck wishes in being selected as the Hogwarts champion. He loved his family, but it would be a good thing to be away from them for a while. If he got selected to participate, he’d get to see them again before the winter holidays. Aradok could not help but look forward to the champion selection. It would be the cherry on top of a fantastic education if he was chosen.

Even so, the tournament was not without its dangers…

Aradok thought it best not to think so much on the negative aspects of the tournament. Instead he pushed his trolley forward and gave it to the man loading up the train. He looked at the crimson engine with admiration, and the steam that clouded them. He would never get used to the feeling that it gave him, nor of the excitement that it caused. He could still remember the very first time he had seen it, and how he was overcome with emotion. At the thought of the memory, his hand found his pocket and his fingers brushed his wand.

Ah, his wand. It was a beautifully crafted instrument, 9 ¾ inches, hazel wood with a phoenix feather core, and hard. He had never been far from it since the moment it chose him in Ollivanders, and he never planned to be. His wand was his one true constant companion, and the medium through which he had achieved success.

The wizard made his way into the Hogwarts Express, and soon found the compartment that Geoffrey had mentioned. He was the only one inside for the moment, but their other friends would soon follow. The sound of other students was too loud to block out, they were all ecstatic about the coming year. Each house surely had their candidate for the tournament. He had a good idea on who was his biggest competition. He slid the compartment door opened and let himself in.

“Took you long enough, mate,” said Geoffrey with a goofy smile. “How was your summer, anything new?”

Aradok let out a guffaw as he sat. “You would know if you ever returned my letters, you big idiot. I’ve been writing to you all summer.” Aradok had not really been writing to him all that much, but he knew in his heart that Geoffrey never answered his mail. It was something that he could always depend on. “It went well, though. I stayed home for the most part, but during the weekends I convinced my folks to take me to the arena to fly around the field a few times.”

“Yeah, whatever. I was more curious about what you’ve heard about the tournament.” Ah, so that is what he was asking about. “Don’t your parents work at the Ministry? They must know something!”

“If they did, they wouldn’t tell me anything about it. They love their jobs too much. Merlin’s beard, what happened to your face?.”

Conversation continued at a comfortable pace, especially a large scar on Geoffrey's cheek, but Aradok really just wanted to be back in school. He wanted to see all of his other friends – friends from other houses, the professors, and especially the Headmistress. The young wizard knew that she would be really proud about his OWL scores. For now, all he needed to do was wait for the Hogwarts Express to take off, and ride out the sorting hat’s song. After that, his real vacation would start, and the tournament would begin.

Krystal Itzume

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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #1 on: September 21, 2013, 07:33:39 am »
The Malfoys were not the only family to enjoy the luxury of escaping the Ministry’s eye. The Pyrites also avoided being thrown into Azkaban, with Alan pleading he had been under the Imperius curse, much like his father. He had been a student younger than Draco at the time of the Battle at Hogwarts, a fifth year, and already pledged to serve Voldemort. His mark still rested on his arm. Now and then, his children heard him speak of Voldemort in a longing way. Their mother was not quite the romantic. Rosa did not like Voldemort. It was a mixed upbringing, ending in the divorce of both parents. The children resided with their mother, but visited their father frequently enough.

The eldest twin, Iris, was the one the father was proud of. Iris Pyrite was in Slytherin, and excelled in her studies. Her blue eyes were light, her skin pale, and her long hair strawberry blonde. It fell to the small of her back. Of course, it was not her looks that her father was proud of, but her evident interest in magic, and her skill in it. Besides studies, she was a member of the revived Dueling Club with her dragon heartstring and blackthorn wand—a dark and beautiful wand, suited for the Dark Arts in Alan’s opinion. She was always reading at his house. He would always tell his friends,
“She has potential” or “She is going somewhere”, and they would nod and agree, never saying how exhausted they were of hearing about his beloved daughter.

The younger twin, however, was the disappointment. Zephyr Pyrite had the same eyes, though his hair was kept only at shoulder length and was always shaggy. His skin was more tanned than his sister. He was not a Slytherin—he was a Hufflepuff. He was the beater on the Quidditch team, and had little interest in his studies. His wand, also dragon heartstring (the same dragon, according to Ollivander) and Willow—springy, and supposedly good for transfiguration. His grades wouldn’t show that, although he was rather good at transfiguring things when he was just having fun. That seemed the prerequisite for him to do well. He excelled in one area, and that was Care of Magical Creatures. He managed to slide through his other OWLs with barely passing grades.

Their first year in, all students expected them in Slytherin. When only one made it, she was looked at with suspicion. Zephyr was considered to have ‘reformed’ from the dark ways the Pyrites were known for. It hardly mattered that Alan was innocent. He bore the Dark Mark. As such, Zephyr was accepted in Hogwarts.

Needless to say, the parting was tense when Alan brought the twins to 9 ¾ platform. Zephyr gave a quick goodbye and then went to wait near one of the doors for his sister, who was expected to take longer. Her cat, an orange thing of seven years, remained in her arms.
“You will enter the tournament, won’t you?”

A single nod. Iris lived to serve, or such was the impression she gave.
“Good. Someone worthy needs to win this year, and I’d not have some other half-blood, or, a mudblood, win it.”

“I will win it.”
Simple. As if the goblet had already chosen her. It was the only way to get him off her back. Hardened ambition was rewarded with a relieved smile and a hand to her shoulder.

Alan squeezed her shoulder,
“I know,” as if he hadn’t had doubts, “Watch that brother of yours,” a kiss to her forehead, “He needs better guidance.”

“I will,”
agree, always agree, never contradict. “I have to go now,” she stepped back. Zephyr had her luggage. “I’ll write soon,” she promised, before turning to catch up with Zephyr. He then relinquished their luggage to the trolley man, passing Iris her small carry-on. His owl went with the luggage--or rather,their owl, for they shared it.

Her purse was full of books for that year’s subjects, and more texts on hexes for the Dueling Club. Zephyr let her into the train first, before following up. Had it not been for the placement of their birthdays, they’d be seventh years by now. Alas, they were both born in early September. They’d be seventeen in two days.


“Are you entering the tournament?”


“Of course,”
Zephyr smirked. He was competitive, and had all the fire expected for this family. He merely focused on what he liked, instead of pleasing the family. “Hufflepuff was chosen last time.”

“Hufflepuff died.”


Zephyr’s smirk faltered.
“Well, I won’t.”

‘Of course you won’t,’
she thought. ‘You won’t be getting in.’ But it wouldn’t be polite to say as much.

He still knew.
“You’re planning on it, aren’t you?” She grinned and nodded. “You’ll be Empress of Slytherin in no time if you get in,” he joked. She preferred empress to queen. “Too bad it won’t be you.”

“We shall see, boy.” It was affectionate. He lifted an arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling her towards him as they walked down the hallway to find their respective places. Despite the fact they were ‘twins’, he had grown much taller than her, now at 6’2”. His growth spurt hit over the summer. No doubt, people would be surprised. His wand length had been adequately chosen at 12’ 4”. Her own wand length was only 7’9”.

Familiar voices were all around them, but Zephyr caught the voices of a group of friends. He soon recognized the two Gryffindors in the compartment.
“Fuck, Geoffrey,” he recognized the face first, “Did you get into a fight with a griffin?” Iris would have normally left, but Zephyr didn't release her to go join 'her own'. Instead, he pulled her into the compartment.

It would take too much effort to try and leave now, so Iris held her tongue and opened up her bag to find a book, intending to ignore them. The cat, seeking attention, walked over her lap and into Zephyr's, where he began to stroke its fur absentmindedly.

Iris had no issues with Aradok, but Geoffrey and she would never be friends. Perhaps she should have packed a book that wasn't on the Dark Arts or hexes, though. The thought came belatedly as she pulled out one for the class in the Dark Arts. If she was grateful for anything, it was that the class on the Dark Arts, and not its defense, had been brought back. The professor of it was also the Head of Slytherin House, and taught the Defense Against the Dark Arts. He was well-versed, to say the least, and had successfully argued for the Dark Arts to be taught since the Battle at Hogwarts showed its necessity. Besides, what better way to defend against it than to know it? Supposedly, a few in the Ministry had backed him on this.


Bleu

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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #2 on: September 21, 2013, 07:39:21 am »
 It had been a while since Aradok had joined Geoffrey in his compartment, and conversation had concluded that the scar on Geoffrey’s cheek had been caused by a curse in a squabble with his brothers. Aradok was not at all convinced by this, but he would have time later to talk about it, and hopefully decipher the real cause. Why would he hide it now? Was it something embarrassing? Probably. Which was all the more tempting for Aradok to continue to interrogate him.

Then Zephyr announced his and Iris’ arrival into the compartment, Aradok greeted them both with a familiar smile. He got along well with both of the Pyrite twins, who weirdly reminded him of his own family. Zephyr had been sorted into Hufflepuff while the rest of his family was in Slytherin, and Aradok was sorted into Gryffindor while his family was one of Ravenclaw – and the twins remained close still, just like he and his sisters.

The atmosphere in the compartment would be that of complete comfort if not for Geoffrey. He had a knack of making things feel awkward around people he didn’t really care for, or those who didn’t care for him. A lot of people, actually, found it hard to carry a friendship with the obnoxious boy, who most times spoke his mind too freely. Aradok had lots of friends, but Geoffrey only had a handful. Most people simply tolerated him, but he did not mind – or notice, rather. At least he had a friend in one of the Pyrite twins.

“You’re mad,” said Geoffrey, lightly jabbing at Zephyr with closed fists. “There were two Griffins. I remain the victor, and this scar serves as my trophy.” Aradok found it amusing that the boy spoke as if he actually believed what he was saying. He was out there, but Aradok didn’t really mind him. Iris, who had started reading a book, seemed to. With his general physical excitement, and his loud tone, he was often the subject of mockery.

“So are both of you going to enter your name into the Goblet of Fire?” Asked Geoffrey once the horseplay died down. “You can’t be serious, you probably only barely passed your OWLs!” The Gryffindor teased the Hufflepuff before the latter could even answer. This happened a whole lot with Geoffrey and people he befriended. He teased, probably out of his own insecurities. Aradok teased him right back, but the pair never took it seriously.

You barely passed your OWLs, ass,” interjected Aradok with a laugh, “and you’re still planning on submitting yourself for the selection. He could get picked, you know.”

Aradok thought it unlikely, though. The Champion had always been one of academic excellence, the one thought more likely to bring the glory back to each school. It worked with some sort of magic, one he didn’t really understand yet, but it provided the tournament with champions that would make it exciting. He looked over at Iris and her book. She was far more likely to be selected as the Hogwarts Champion than her brother, and her affiliation with the Dueling Club made her a worthy contender.

Aradok himself had never actually joined the Dueling Club, but he had done his fair share of combat with his other friends. Quidditch took too much time out of his schedule to attend the meetings; still he made sure he got some practice. He had a fascination with everything magical, which was the key to his successful scores in the OWLs. Dark Arts was one of his favorite subjects, a trait he surely shared with Iris. When it came to the more boring subjects, he forced himself to study and understand the material, rather than do it for joy.

“I suppose you think you have a good chance at it, don’t you?” Challenged Geoffrey with a smirk. “Mr. Prefect.”

“I could not say,” responded Aradok in the same mimicking tone, “but if I don’t get selected it won’t be for lack of participation. I’ll submit my name just like the rest, I've at least got the same chances as you lot.”

Then the Hogwarts Express began to move, all of the students were already aboard and anxiously waiting their arrival at the castle. Aradok, however, would not relax with his friends much longer. All of the prefects were required to meet at the front of the train to advise the new prefects, and were required to stay there the majority of the ride. He liked being prefect, and took pride in the badge that he wore. He never liked changing into his robes while on the Express, he liked being prepared early.

“Well,” said Aradok in a manner that implied he had better things to do, “I must go fulfill my prefect duties in compartment A with the rest of my kin.” This caused Geoffrey to muffle a mocking laugh. Just as he rose to leave the compartment, more people arrived to come in – the rest of their friends. They each came in with polite greetings, and Geoffrey slouched back into his seat, silent.

“We’ll talk later,” said the Gryffindor finally before stepping out.


Krystal Itzume

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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #3 on: September 21, 2013, 07:40:51 am »
Zephyr just laughed, shoved Geoffrey after the jab, “Only two? Weak!” Zephyr knew better than most that such was not weak at all. He was fascinated by the world of creatures, after all. The subject moved fluidly into the next. Zephyr straightened up and puffed his chest out, “Of course I’m entering.” Never mind his OWL scores. Aradok was quick to cover for him, and he grinned at Geoffrey, “At least I have the physique to get through the challenges, and a cheater for a sister.”

Iris passed him a look from her book to suggest she didn’t approve of being called a cheater.
‘Finding the easy way isn’t cheating.’ Not that the Hufflepuff agreed when it came to games of any sort. He thought it was ‘low’.

“I guess you’d have Ara,”
he leaned back in the compartment. Except, Aradok seemed to have an interest in it, too. “Ara probably has a better chance of getting in than you, Geof. I mean, you barely passed your OWLs and he's Perfect--I mean Prefect,” he noted, mocking tone, apologetic smile to Aradok on the 'slip'. He didn't confess that he hadn't done well, either. Zephyr was not a Prefect. He did not have the responsible nature.

Curiously enough, Iris was also not a Prefect, though this stemmed from a conversation she had with the Professor of Dark Arts. She was on his list. She denied it, preferring her responsibilities to the dueling club. Besides that, she didn’t want to have to deal with first years. She was not exactly a ‘people person’. Instead, she insisted that the self-proclaimed “King of Slytherin” and his girl be given the titles. It added to their ego, and quietly amused her.

That poor, poor Rosier boy was so deluded. Handsome, talented, but deluded.

He’d fall. One day, Iris would make it so. Perhaps this tournament would be just the place.
‘You are on to something, boy.’ If she was chosen champion and he wasn’t, his reaction would be…delicious, to say the very least.

Others moved into the compartment as Aradok left. Iris looked up to see him depart, before quickly hiding in her book again. The cat jumped laps, now going to bother Geoffrey.
“You think this tournament is going to influence the Quidditch games this year?” Zephyr asked, frowning with the thought. Quidditch was one thing he loved, and how he kept his physique. He was more top-heavy, arms strong for using the beating bat.

“I don’t think it will,”
another Hufflepuff answered, a mousy girl in appearance, but hardly quiet. “Did it before?" Shrugs. Perhaps they should have asked a Ravenclaw. “Oh, I’m just so excited for it,” fists clenched on her lap, “Do you think they’ll bring dragons?”

Zephyr’s eyes lit up. His dream job was to work at a dragon sanctuary.
“I hope!”

“They wouldn’t repeat challenges,”
Iris stated matter-of-factly. “The champions would then know how to get through them. There’d be no fun in it.” Her eyes didn’t leave the book. Page flipped. Horcruxes and other ‘dark’ objects, a chapter all about enchanting items, first discussing what was absolutely illegal…and informing one on how to make them so that they wouldn’t do it ‘accidentally’.

Zephyr laughed,
“Well, maybe four griffins then,” he looked back at Geoffrey, “Or a kraken! No, no, we really should use the Forbidden Forest more.”

“Maybe the champion will have to tame a thestral!”


And so discussion swirled around about what the challenges might be.


Bleu

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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #4 on: September 21, 2013, 07:46:03 am »
“Well, if the champion is a Quidditch player, some rules might have to be bent,” said Henri, a boy with sandy short hair and one of the younger Gryffindors. He was a chaser on the house team and a current fourth year. “Which stinks for us, since we’ve got Ara – imagine,” he shot Geoffrey a look, “if Ara gets selected as the Hogwarts Champion. He’ll have too much on his mind to lead the team! He probably won’t even make all the practices.”

Geoffrey shook his head. “Nah, he’ll be fine. He’s a freak like that – and he’s the captain, he’ll be scheduling the practices.”

Something told Henri that might not be the case. After all, Aradok may not even be chosen as the Hogwarts Champion.

The now crowded compartment continued to buzz with talk of the Triwizard tournament, and what possible challenges could be put in place. Iris commented on how the tasks would not be repeated, for the sake of keeping them challenging. This was most likely true, for if they repeated the tasks of the previous tournament, they would find no real experience from it. No, the rumors also held that these new tasks would be even more challenging than those from previous tournaments.

“Someone died the last time,” said Geoffrey, who clearly didn’t know as much as he put on. “If they make this tournament more dangerous than the last, then someone must die.”

His reasoning sparked annoyance in Henri. “Don’t be stupid, the person that was killed in the last tournament was killed by a dark wizard; his death was not task related. Though it would be cool if one of the tasks revolved around the Forbidden Forest, maybe something with Harpies or Hippogriffs.”

“They’d have to be more dangerous than that,” countered Geoffrey. “Hey, Pyrite, you didn’t answer me. Are you going to enter?” He called to Iris, completely unaware that the girl wanted little to do with him. His aloof nature prevented him from truly seeing who he could get along well with. Henri, who stirred on the side, could easily tell that the Slytherin did fancy the Gryffindor very much.



Aradok moved through the train, trying not to peek in at every compartment. There were a lot of new kids this year, and they were just as rowdy as the last bunch. They each had their wands out, trying hard to make something extraordinary happen. The smell of sweets invaded his nostrils when he reached the compartment with the trolley. In time he reached the compartment closest to the front, and entered it quickly. There were only a couple of prefects there. Each house had six prefects, and one head boy and girl; inside the compartment most of the Ravenclaws were there, and hardly any Slytherins.

“Aradok Lundstrom,” said the Gryffindor head boy with a fake smile. “I was wondering when I’d see you here. I hear you're thinking of entering the tournament.” Ara confirmed that he did with a nod. “Don’t hold your breath, I’m older than you are, and I’m head boy, so…”

A smile formed on Aradok’s lips, if he was so confident then he had nothing to worry about. The guy was a tool and he was arrogant, but he knew his stuff. Cocky or not, Aradok would not underestimate him like the head boy did him. Ara took Quidditch Captain right from under his nose, and since then, the boy had gotten a pleasure from teasing him. 

« Last Edit: September 21, 2013, 07:54:58 am by Bleu »

Krystal Itzume

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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #5 on: September 21, 2013, 02:18:11 pm »
‘Pyrite?’ It earned an annoyed glance. Not that Iris thought they were on first-name basis, but just the way he spoke her surname annoyed her. The fact the Rosier boy was the main one to refer to her by her surname may have been the only reason for the irritation, though. Sharp eyes rested calmly on him as if he asked a question that deserved thought. “Yes. I am going to be Hogwart’s champion.”

If it was decided by resolve alone, Iris might have won already. Her eyes shifted back down to the book,
“They wouldn’t use harpies. They’re intelligent humanoids like veela—and if they did use them, you boys would stand as much a chance as if they used veela.”

“I take offense to that,”
Zephyr declared.

Iris just smirked.
“Well, if you know so much, what do you think they’re going to use?”

“Thestral doesn’t seem far off. Perhaps a basilisk.”


“That…they wouldn’t unleash a basilisk here.”
Not again.

She lifted a single shoulder in a shrug. Iris was not concerned about it, and wondering would bring her no closer to the truth. The hints would be given out soon enough to those who were successfully chosen.
“Would they?” She shrugged again.

~***~

Darius Rosier, the ‘king’ of Slytherin, was always late. Time ran on his schedule, after all. He took his time moving to the compartment, chatting with friends, laughing about how he would obviously be the champion.
“Unless someone cheats again, like last time,” eye roll. Confident words passed in his support. He was more popular than Slytherin’s Head Boy, and had been since he was a first year.

And Slytherins, ever-supportive of each other, fell in line to kneel before him, accepting the new charismatic, and hoping their fawning over him would earn them favors later in life.

Darius Rosier was, after all, “going somewhere”. His ambition roared; he was not as subtle as a snake ought to be.


“But his colors are that of a milk snake.”


There were always a few who dissented. The irksome Pyrite girl,
‘And Pyrite is false gold, who is she to judge?’ dissented. She made little noise, but she was evidently the favorite of the Head of the House. He saw her in that compartment, stuffed full with all sorts of unsavory folk, but walked by without comment. She would fall in line, in time. They all did.

He made his way to the front of the train and swaggered in. Other Slytherins had made their way to the compartment, and he took his seat with his group of worshippers, posture overly casual as the one Gryffindor tried to intimidate the other. The other houses were more factionalized.
“Well, none of you need to worry about any of that,” Darius comforted, “I’ll be taking the title of Champion,” nods from his devotees. “Can we just get on with business then, eh?” Now that he was here, it was time to begin.

Bleu

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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #6 on: September 21, 2013, 05:34:17 pm »
Geoffrey let out a chuckle, but the other students seemed less amused by Iris’ answer. He crossed his arms in disbelief. “You sound very sure of that. I figured the self-proclaimed King of Slytherin would be a guarantee from your house.” Groans soon followed – the students in that compartment were not too fond of that particular Slytherin. Even Henri, who generally liked everybody, even if he didn’t always make it seem that way, didn’t like him very much. His loyal followers were also not high in his regard.

“A basilisk?” Henri refused to believe such a thing. “That’s a bit too extreme isn’t it? Death by a simple glance?”

“Oh, is that what that thing that killed that one girl that one time was?”

“Yes,” confirmed Henri. “That’s the one. The one Lord Voldemort sent out to kill muggle born students when the chamber of secrets was opened the last time.”

“Nah, they wouldn’t put something like that on a task.”

Henri, though hesitant that such a monster would make an appearance, could not guarantee it. It was a scary though; so scary that even he would think twice before adding his name to the goblet. Geoffrey would add his name anyway, but not because he was brave. It’d be because he wouldn’t really know what he’d gotten himself into. Three very dangerous tasks that test your knowledge and wit, as well as make you compete with the best of two other schools. It’d not be easy.

“Perhaps a dementor? They can order some of those around the castle, can’t they?”

Geoffrey shuddered at the sound of their name. He’d never been truly been scared of anything else. Their black cloaks and their long fingers were only the beginning, it was their chill and the feeling that they evoked on a person that tormented him.

“Good lord, I hope not.” He really did.

“I hear Aradok knows how to make cast Patronus Charm.”


“He does,” confirmed Geoffrey. “So can I, it’s not that hard.”

A Patronus Charm was not an easy charm, and Aradok had a very hard time perfecting it. However, Geoffrey had not lied about Ara or himself. Geoffrey casted his curious patronus on his second try; it was the only charm he was a natural at. Even though he was often prey to mockery, he was not without many happy memories, and the friendship that he had with Ara was one of legend. This was ironic, considering that Geoffrey could not stand the things for which the Patronus charm was created.

***

Rosier’s arrival to the prefect compartment earned several rolled eyes, and even a couple of groans. Only the Slytherins seemed to be happy to see him. The Gryffindor Head Boy, Patrick Belby, was especially expressive in his mocking joy. He clapped his hands together and welcomed him in as if he were the boss of everybody. The Slytherin’s cockiness irked him, which went to show just how hypocritical he was. He had just done that to Aradok.

“Oh goodie,” said Patrick, sarcasm dripping from his hissing mouth. “The Champion is in our midst, well know that’s settled, we can forget the tournament. In fact, let us just not add our names at all. The King of Slytherin has claimed that cookie, and we all know that’s enough.“

Aradok, though not fond of the Slytherin, did not appreciate Patrick’s stunt one bit. The other prefects did not necessarily follow his lead. Aradok moved closer to the pair, just in case something more than a verbal altercation erupted from the mixed feelings. He place one hand on Patrick’s shoulder (which was brushed off), and the other on his wand. The rest of the prefects also stood, ready to leave – or defend – whenever they needed to.

“Come on, we just needed to meet here to decide which prefects look over which compartments. Why don’t we do that and get going?”

« Last Edit: September 21, 2013, 06:30:07 pm by Bleu »

Krystal Itzume

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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #7 on: September 21, 2013, 06:13:48 pm »
Patronus was, so far, one of the few things Iris couldn’t get right. The one thing Zephyr excelled at, though he knew better than to mention it. She was working on it, and would continue to do so. She had plenty of happy memories, but her mind froze with the thought of failure and seemed intent to start playing all of her bad ones, even just in practice. She couldn’t imagine what might happen if she ever had to see a real dementor. Even so, she shrugged it off as if it were nothing, “A dementor would be an interesting opponent,” she said, “On par with the basilisk, but the way to defeat it is well-known. Doesn’t seem much of a challenge for the tri-wizard tournament.”

Zephyr kept his lips tightly shut on that matter.
“Maybe not. They do have to challenge the mind.”

“Which means you aren’t getting in,”
mousy girl chuckled. Charlotte. “I just hope they don’t involve others again,” she shook her head. “Last time, they drowned people.”

“They didn’t drown,”
Zephyr said, “They were just sunk under water and the champions had to rescue them.”

“Well, they could have drowned,”
Charlotte protested. “Or, those merpeople…they could have eaten them, or done horrible things to them while they were so helpless under the water.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Charlie,”
a nickname the mousy one didn’t seem to appreciate, “Only the most important people were tied there. I don’t think you’d be tied down there, don’t worry.”

And she fixed Zephyr with such a glare that Iris grinned behind her book.
“That’s just mean!” She protested, looked like she might cry.

Zephyr was quick to fix his mistake,
“S-sorry, I mean, I’m sure someone would! Henri totally would, right Henri?” ‘For the love of Merlin save me.’

The cat jumped in Charlotte’s lap, and batted her nose.
“Hey!” Disturbance. The cat saved him. She quickly began to play with it, dangling ringlets of brown hair for the cat to try and bat.

~***~

Darius could ignore the sarcasm for the flattery.
“I’m glad you understand, Patrick.” The Head boy of Slytherin shook his head. He could have told Patrick that was a stupid move, but why? Patrick never listened to good sense.

Darius stood,
“Since you have acknowledged my superiority,” some people might have wanted to smack the smirk right off his lips. Perhaps more than some, “I suppose I can delegate where everyone goes. Since you have some sense, Ara,” he was the one to try and calm Patrick down, and he got things back on track, “Why don’t you look in your little friends in the fourth compartment?”

Thinking that business done, Darius went right about telling everyone else where to go, including Patrick, who he sent to the back of the train, planning to keep himself near the front, and the refreshments. Perhaps the refreshment trolley would never make it to the back. Who knew? It might be empty by then.

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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #8 on: September 21, 2013, 06:19:40 pm »
“Not all tasks need challenge the solely mind, some can test other aspects of a good wizard. Very few people, not to mention students, can fight off a dementor, and even then it may not be the main part of the task. I remember that in the third task of the last tournament the maze was full of all kinds of creatures. What’s stopping the creators from placing multiple tests in a single task?” Henri asked after admitting to himself that he had no real idea of what the tasks would be. The young Gryffindor felt like he was an excellent student, but he wouldn’t try his luck at the tournament. He was still too young, and his studies had not taught him enough to be truly comfortable.

“That’s sort of scary,” admitted Geoffrey, happy that the cat had finally left his side. "Nothing that I couldn't handle though. I'm amazing."

Then Charlotte happened.

“Yes, I’d expect you to be tied down there if I was the champion, and I’d save you before all the others.” He looked over at Zephyr and rolled his eyes when Charlotte was not looking. They were friends, but he did not know her very well. He’d still save her; at least he didn’t completely lie to save Zeph. Thankfully the cat was doing a better job at cheering her up than him.

“I hope that one of the tasks includes dueling, that could be fun, no?”

***

Thankfully, nothing extreme transpired in the prefect compartment. Rosier had not taken Patrick’s obvious attack to heart, and commanded all the prefects to go into compartments in groups. A not very happy Patrick saw no point in arguing when all the other prefects decided to listen to the Slytherin; there was nothing he could do about it now. The Head Boy cursed under his breath before making his way to the farthest compartment.

Aradok was assigned to the fourth compartment with a fellow sixth year prefect from Ravenclaw, Marzia. Luckily this was the compartment where his friends were surely yapping away about the tournament still. Apparently Marzia’s friends were also in that compartment wing, so their patrol would be a relaxed one. They made their way to it in a comfortable pace. They knew each other well enough to be polite in their acquaintance, but not enough to consider each other a close friend.

“He’s a tool isn’t he?” asked she with a raised brow.

“Which one?”

They shared a laugh.

“Both of them,” answered the girl, with an approving look from Aradok. “Are you going to be entering, Ara?” That seemed to be the question asked all around the Hogwarts Express, and Ara did not mind being asked in such a polite manner.

“Yeah, I think so. You?”

“I think you should, I’d say you have a pretty decent chance. I’m going to sit this one out, tournaments were never really my thing.”

Their polite conversation continued until they reached the fourth compartment wing, where they agreed to do a couple of patrols back and forth to make sure everything went well before paying a visit to their friends. Aradok walked alongside the wing several times, wand out, and looking in on each of them. His compartment was one of the louder ones, but the noise did not yet warrant a complaint. After the accorded number of patrols, he stopped outside of his compartment and opened the door to go back in.

“Patrick is such a dick.” He announced, only a little of his anger escaped into his words.

“Yes he is,” concurred Geoffrey before continuing, “but what did he do now?”

The conversation of the tournament stopped with no further mention of monsters, dragons, and creatures, for the Gryffindors had good reason to partake in bad mouthing the Head Boy. Henri didn’t know him as well as the older kids, but he realized soon that he had rubbed some people the wrong way. For a boy who was supposed to inspire and enforce discipline, Patrick was a wild one. For some reason, he had all the Professors fooled.

“He almost picked a fight with Darius Rosier back in the prefect’s compartment. Luckily Rosier didn’t take Patrick’s insults seriously, and nothing happened. Still, what he said was unwarranted – no Head Boy should act like that when they are expected to look over the entire student body.”

Geoffrey rolled his eyes at Aradok’s inclination to always follow the rules. Such was the way of their friendship; Geoff would get into trouble and Ara would have to find a way to get him off the hook. It was not always easy, but Ara would always find a reason to bail him out from his punishments. Henri and the others were not as rebellious as Geoff, but that did not stop them from having a bit of fun with their fellow friend, and prefect. Jokes and teases were often encouraged in their group.


Krystal Itzume

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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #9 on: September 21, 2013, 06:22:44 pm »
Iris heard Henri’s logic, and nodded her consent to that idea. The book was now lowered in acknowledgment that she wasn’t going to get any reading done. “A dementor among other challenges is possible,” she consented. Geoffrey was arrogant as usual. The cat stole away from him to deal with the girl, as Henri made matters better.

“Thanks, Henri!”
Zephyr gave him an appreciative smile.

And then dueling was mentioned.
“Well, if they want to kill champions, sure,” Zephyr muttered. Plenty of people in the dueling club ended up in the hospital. No death’s yet, though he was pretty sure that wasn’t for lack of trying, sometimes. Even Iris had her fair share of visits in her younger years.

“I’d enjoy it,”
everyone there certainly knew that, though. Her only challenge might be the Durmstrang student. Rumor had it they were far better at the Dark Arts than Hogwarts ever would be.

The cat left Charlotte as it recognized the book was down. It jumped on top it and looked straight up at Iris, demanding attention. Of course, it received, and she scratched the cat behind an ear.

It was then that Aradok returned to the compartment, though on duty. His complaint was understood by the Gryffindors. Charlotte, Iris, and Zephyr only had their word to go on, not that any of them minded going on that word alone.
“I would have paid to see that fight.” Iris probably wasn’t kidding. Though house pride, and knowing Darius had talent, led her to believe he would win, it would still be worth it to see if he even got hexed.

Darius wouldn’t enter the dueling club to prove how vulnerable he was. Claimed he didn’t ‘need’ it.


“Don’t Gryffindors and Slytherins have a…thing?”
Zephyr certainly saw more open hostilities between those two houses than any other. So far as rivalries went, Slytherin and Gryffindor had one of epic proportions. “If he’s supposed to set an example, it sounds like he’s on the right path.”

Charlotte lightly shoved Zephyr,
“Don’t encourage them.” Hufflepuff should have had a rivalry with Ravenclaw by default, but they really didn’t. If so, most the Hufflepuffs were completely unaware.

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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #10 on: September 21, 2013, 06:26:38 pm »
Aradok laughed slightly at Iris willing to pay money to see such a fight, it would be a sight worth seeing under the right circumstances. A crowded prefect compartment with a bunch of students did not fall into one of those, however, and although he’d be amused by such a duel, he was glad that it didn’t happen. He believed that even though Patrick had provoked Rosier, the Gryffindor would end up the victor in the duel. He was older than the Slytherin, and his talents had at least earned him the fancy title. There was some talent to back up the ego, after all.
   
“I don’t really like Rosier,” said Ara, still standing by the compartment door, “but other than him I’ve never had any trouble with any other Slytherins. It all sounds like it’s made up to purposefully create some competitive rivalry between the houses.” Such a thing was often talked about, but Ara never really put much thought behind it. There were so many other things that seemed to be going on around him that took priority.

“I don’t know where you have been studying for the past five years,” said Geoffrey with a scoff, “but Gryffindors and Slytherins do not get along, and I don’t think they ever will.” He didn’t like a lot of the Slytherins, but he supposed that Iris was alright – even if she didn’t reciprocate his feelings. The obnoxious Gryffindor purposefully teased the other Slytherin students, making their lives harder than they ought to be. Name calling, enchanted notes, fiascos at the great hall, these are all common attacks between the two houses.

Henri silently agreed with Aradok, for he didn’t mind any students from the other houses. He was of a more amiable nature.
 
“Whatever it is, it shouldn’t matter. The Hogwarts Champion, from wherever they are, will need all of our support in representing the school. They’ll be under a lot of pressure, probably greater than any other they have experienced.” Ara simply desired for Patrick not to be the Champion – anyone else he’d be fine with. “Anyways, the Hogwarts Express is picking up speed, y’all might want to consider changing into robes if you haven’t already – the cloudy weather outside will disguise the sunset. I’ll let the other compartments know.”

With that Ara closed the door and one by one informed the students from other compartments to consider changing into their school robes. Thankfully, not many first years were in the fourth compartment, so his job was made easy. Only simple nods and affirmations were returned, no real questions or concerns were given. After a while, (once the sweets trolley completed its journey) the hallway soon began to have traffic, boys and girls traveling in same-sex groups at once. Lavatories were, luckily, available at each compartment – and were enchanted to suit many students at once.

Once Ara had made sure all the students had gone and returned from the lavatories in their robes, he commented with Marzia and agreed that their patrol was finished. He ventured back into the compartment with his friends in it, and took the available seat next to Iris.  He let out a sigh of relief when he looked outside the window. A slightly gloomy drizzle was painting the glass, but sunset was upon them, which marked just how close to the castle they were.

“I wonder what they are going to say  about the tournament in the sorting ceremony. We shouldn't be long now,” Ara commented after denying some chocolate frogs from Geoffrey. Only then did he take notice that there were a lot of sweets in the compartment, so many that he wondered whether they left the trolley empty. “Did you all leave anything for the other kids?”

Geoffrey, who had been until that point stuffing his face, shook his head. “You missed it, not our fault.”

“I didn’t miss it, I was just outside. I just didn’t realize how hungry you all were.”

“It was mostly Geoffrey,” said Henri, being shoved shortly afterwards.


Krystal Itzume

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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #11 on: September 21, 2013, 06:28:56 pm »
Iris could only offer a sympathetic nod. ‘Be grateful you don’t have to deal with him all year.’ Though this year would be different, Iris would make sure of that. She’d prefer Patrick be champion than Rosier.

She could agree with Geoffrey, though, at least in the dueling club and Dark Arts classes she took. Even some of those Gryffindors who took the Dark Arts class looked warily on any Slytherin who did the same. In the dueling club, it was an outright war that Iris often had to get between. Some students thought it was a place they could vent their frustrations on others, particularly those of the offensive house. Slytherins and Gryffindors were both guilty of trying to cause lasting damage.


“Don’t worry, we’ll support whoever it is. Even Henri,”
Zephyr reassured Aradok, before he mentioned the need to change into robes. Iris moved her book into her bag, and rose to find an area to change. Charlotte followed her out, and the cat once again decided Geoffrey was the one to annoy. It jumped to his lap and just sat there, staring up at him, waiting, daring him to move and change into robes.

Perhaps it was thinking, ‘Feed me petty human’.


Iris left him there to stare, knowing his fate would soon be to end up on the floor. She changed quickly into her robes, silver and green additions finally signifying which house she belonged though. Much as she didn’t want to, not knowing Charlotte well, she waited for the other girl to finally escape the lavatory. They walked back to the compartment together to find the trolley had stopped.

Zephyr was already snatching up several of the cauldron cakes. Charlotte made her own bid for some of the chocolate, though it seemed Geoffrey had bought most the chocolate frogs. Iris was quietly displeased. She collected the cards, loved the little facts. Sometimes they inspired her to research the wizards or witches further. Morgan Le Fay was a favorite. Instead, she bought some of the levitating sherbets, and let the cat chase one of them around the compartment. It was amusing to watch the orange thing desperately try to lick the rainbow ball.

Aradok soon joined them, taking the seat besides Iris. She glanced at him, then went back to watching the cat’s antics. Zephyr had another cauldron cake stuffed in his mouth as Henri spoke, but he nodded enthusiastically.
“Enjoy that metabolism while you have it, mate.” One day, Geoffrey would not be so lucky.

Zephyr was going to enjoy his own, and work it off later. Quidditch practice would be soon! He had missed it.
“What’s your schedule for this year, anyway, Geoff?” The question was open to the others as well. He already knew Iris’s, though.

The cat finally batted the levitating treat out of the sky and pinned it. He licked it, made a face, and walked away from the treat, clearly offended by it as he held his tail up high.

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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #12 on: September 21, 2013, 06:33:57 pm »
Aradok laughed slightly at Iris willing to pay money to see such a fight, it would be a sight worth seeing under the right circumstances. A crowded prefect compartment with a bunch of students did not fall into one of those, however, and although he’d be amused by such a duel, he was glad that it didn’t happen. He believed that even though Patrick had provoked Rosier, the Gryffindor would end up the victor in the duel. He was older than the Slytherin, and his talents had at least earned him the fancy title. There was some talent to back up the ego, after all.
   
“I don’t really like Rosier,” said Ara, still standing by the compartment door, “but other than him I’ve never had any trouble with any other Slytherins. It all sounds like it’s made up to purposefully create some competitive rivalry between the houses.” Such a thing was often talked about, but Ara never really put much thought behind it. There were so many other things that seemed to be going on around him that took priority.

“I don’t know where you have been studying for the past five years,” said Geoffrey with a scoff, “but Gryffindors and Slytherins do not get along, and I don’t think they ever will.” He didn’t like a lot of the Slytherins, but he supposed that Iris was alright – even if she didn’t reciprocate his feelings. The obnoxious Gryffindor purposefully teased the other Slytherin students, making their lives harder than they ought to be. Name calling, enchanted notes, fiascos at the great hall, these are all common attacks between the two houses.

Henri silently agreed with Aradok, for he didn’t mind any students from the other houses. He was of a more amiable nature.
 
“Whatever it is, it shouldn’t matter. The Hogwarts Champion, from wherever they are, will need all of our support in representing the school. They’ll be under a lot of pressure, probably greater than any other they have experienced.” Ara simply desired for Patrick not to be the Champion – anyone else he’d be fine with. “Anyways, the Hogwarts Express is picking up speed, y’all might want to consider changing into robes if you haven’t already – the cloudy weather outside will disguise the sunset. I’ll let the other compartments know.”

With that Ara closed the door and one by one informed the students from other compartments to consider changing into their school robes. Thankfully, not many first years were in the fourth compartment, so his job was made easy. Only simple nods and affirmations were returned, no real questions or concerns were given. After a while, (once the sweets trolley completed its journey) the hallway soon began to have traffic, boys and girls traveling in same-sex groups at once. Lavatories were, luckily, available at each compartment – and were enchanted to suit many students at once.

Once Ara had made sure all the students had gone and returned from the lavatories in their robes, he commented with Marzia and agreed that their patrol was finished. He ventured back into the compartment with his friends in it, and took the available seat next to Iris.  He let out a sigh of relief when he looked outside the window. A slightly gloomy drizzle was painting the glass, but sunset was upon them, which marked just how close to the castle they were.

“I wonder what they are going to say  about the tournament in the sorting ceremony. We shouldn't be long now,” Ara commented after denying some chocolate frogs from Geoffrey. Only then did he take notice that there were a lot of sweets in the compartment, so many that he wondered whether they left the trolley empty. “Did you all leave anything for the other kids?”

Geoffrey, who had been until that point stuffing his face, shook his head. “You missed it, not our fault.”

“I didn’t miss it, I was just outside. I just didn’t realize how hungry you all were.”

“It was mostly Geoffrey,” said Henri, being shoved shortly afterwards.


Krystal Itzume

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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #13 on: September 21, 2013, 07:46:59 pm »
Iris could only offer a sympathetic nod. ‘Be grateful you don’t have to deal with him all year.’ Though this year would be different, Iris would make sure of that. She’d prefer Patrick be champion than Rosier.

She could agree with Geoffrey, though, at least in the dueling club and Dark Arts classes she took. Even some of those Gryffindors who took the Dark Arts class looked warily on any Slytherin who did the same. In the dueling club, it was an outright war that Iris often had to get between. Some students thought it was a place they could vent their frustrations on others, particularly those of the offensive house. Slytherins and Gryffindors were both guilty of trying to cause lasting damage.


“Don’t worry, we’ll support whoever it is. Even Henri,”
Zephyr reassured Aradok, before he mentioned the need to change into robes. Iris moved her book into her bag, and rose to find an area to change. Charlotte followed her out, and the cat once again decided Geoffrey was the one to annoy. It jumped to his lap and just sat there, staring up at him, waiting, daring him to move and change into robes.

Perhaps it was thinking, ‘Feed me petty human’.


Iris left him there to stare, knowing his fate would soon be to end up on the floor. She changed quickly into her robes, silver and green additions finally signifying which house she belonged though. Much as she didn’t want to, not knowing Charlotte well, she waited for the other girl to finally escape the lavatory. They walked back to the compartment together to find the trolley had stopped.

Zephyr was already snatching up several of the cauldron cakes. Charlotte made her own bid for some of the chocolate, though it seemed Geoffrey had bought most the chocolate frogs. Iris was quietly displeased. She collected the cards, loved the little facts. Sometimes they inspired her to research the wizards or witches further. Morgan Le Fay was a favorite. Instead, she bought some of the levitating sherbets, and let the cat chase one of them around the compartment. It was amusing to watch the orange thing desperately try to lick the rainbow ball.

Aradok soon joined them, taking the seat besides Iris. She glanced at him, then went back to watching the cat’s antics. Zephyr had another cauldron cake stuffed in his mouth as Henri spoke, but he nodded enthusiastically.
“Enjoy that metabolism while you have it, mate.” One day, Geoffrey would not be so lucky.

Zephyr was going to enjoy his own, and work it off later. Quidditch practice would be soon! He had missed it.
“What’s your schedule for this year, anyway, Geoff?” The question was open to the others as well. He already knew Iris’s, though.

The cat finally batted the levitating treat out of the sky and pinned it. He licked it, made a face, and walked away from the treat, clearly offended by it as he held his tail up high.


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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #14 on: September 21, 2013, 09:46:18 pm »
Geoffrey slouched back on his seat. He hated having to wear robes all the time in school, it made him feel contained in more than one level. At least the visits to Hogsmeade didn’t require such strict dress codes. He turned to look at Zeph when he asked him about his schedule this year. School hadn’t even started, and he wasn’t as anxious about the classes as he was about the tournament – they looked boring in comparison. Couldn’t some rules be changed about the classes for the sake of the tournament? He wished it so.

“I’m pretty sure I have the same ones you do,” he looked at the ceiling of the compartment, madly trying to remember what classes he chose to continue. “Astronomy…err… Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology, Potions…Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Transfiguaration. You?” He thought of them once more before deciding that he was right and that he hadn’t forgotten anything – his references were his OWL results. They were still too many classes for his liking, but they were the only ones that he satisfactorily passed. The Dark Arts professor required an Outstanding in the OWL to continue into the NEWT level. 

Henri continued with his, not caring that he was much younger than the others and would not see the same study material. This prompted a schedule read from all around the compartment, and it was only until Iris and Ara were left that the latter decided to share his. Ara noticed that nobody had yet said that they enrolled in the Dark Arts class. If enrollment was low, the professor would have to accept those with Exceeds Expectations.

“Dark Arts, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Potions, Transfiguration, and Herbology for me. I only decided not to continue Astronomy from last year – though I may change my mind about it later. I’ll have to talk to Professor Montague about it.” Professor Coradin Montague was the Head of Gryffindor house, and the Charms professor. “But I don’t think I need it. I wanted to drop Herbology, but apparently it would be best if I didn’t.”

“You don’t need half of the classes you are taking, Ara. Damn,” commented Geoff with disbelief. “You’re going to make yourself miserable this year, you won’t be able to keep up with the tournament, especially is you get selected.”

Ara smiled to himself. “Well, the tournament is just one year. My career is for life.”

The Hogwarts Express began to slow down, and the previously clouded sky was now clear, revealing a starry beautiful night. The castle could be seen from far away, a grand place, with its many towers and sights. The excitement that had hid from both Geoff an Ara before seemed to have crept up on them, for they couldn’t help but share a grin at its sight.   


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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #15 on: September 21, 2013, 10:24:33 pm »
“Most the same,” Zephyr agreed with a nod. While Dark Arts required an Outstanding, the Defense Against the Dark Arts did not, and he had added that to his list, “Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology, Transfiguration, Muggle Studies, Potions, and Defense Against the Dark Arts.” He figured it might come in handy one day, more so than Astronomy, anyway, which bored him to tears. “’Course, I’ll be taking the apparition class in the winter.”

Aradok listed his schedule, as well. Zephyr whistled at the list.
“Good luck, mate. You get a time turner yet?” He joked. 

Iris gave her list of classes after Aradok,
“Dark Arts,” no surprise, “Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology, and Magical Theory.” It was a shame there hadn’t been enough demand for Alchemy, but she could always hope that would happen in her 7th year.

“Magical theory?”
Charlotte hadn’t heard of that class being offered.

“She wants to create spells to take over the world or something,”
Zephyr answered for Iris, dismissively. It was true that she did wish to create spells. She rather admired the genius of the spell sectumsempra, and was surprised it had taken so long to be invented as it was. There had to be plenty of other spells waiting to be discovered.

The school soon ventured into their sight. Zephyr grinned as well. The tournament was in his mind, but so was Quidditch. He was hoping there wouldn’t be a conflict. The train soon came to a stop at the Hogsmeade Station. There would be no time to dally there, of course. Those professors who rode on the train were soon trying to organize the first-years to get them towards the boats as the others moved to the carriages with the thestrals. The cat followed after them, trailing behind and observing the movements of others.


“Pyrite!”


Iris had stepped off the train with the others in her compartment. She turned her head, much as Zephyr did. Zephyr reacted first to the demanding tone.
“My love! You acknowledge me?”

“Keep dreaming,”
the Rosier boy shot back. Zephyr mocked heartbreak.

He didn’t truly need to explain the command. Iris lifted her hand in farewell to the others, before taking her turn to walk with the Slytherins. Zephyr called after Darius,
“You can’t hide it forever! One day, we’ll make this school accept us, DARIUS!” Before Charlotte actually punched his arm to get him to stop. He could see that Darius's face was red, anger or embarrassment, he didn't care, “I hate that guy,” he said shortly after a fit of laughter.


Removed from the group, Darius asked Iris,
“What the hell is wrong with your brother?”

Iris bent to pick up the cat as he paused in walking.
“He’s developing a Weasley-esque fascination with muggle things,” she answered. “That might be messing with his head.”

“I see,”
he frowned at the thought of another ‘Weasley’. “I do not know why you bother.”

“He is my brother. I must,”
simple as that. “Did you want something, Rosier?”

“Not really.” Ever an annoyance, Iris let out a sigh of frustration at being called away from the presence of people she actually enjoyed. “I am curious about whether you plan to enter the tournament.”

“Of course.”


“You aren’t even seventeen.”


“I’ll be seventeen before you.”


“Aww, how sweet. You remember my birthday.”
Someone snickered. “Forgive me, I forgot yours. I thought it was later.” Sometimes, Iris swore he set things up just to mock others. A good read of personality, if nothing else. “Do you know anything about the tournament?”

“I don’t,”
she answered. Her dad wouldn’t be allowed anywhere near a Ministry job. Her mother didn't care for the politics of the ministry. “Do you?”

That grin. That annoying grin.
“Of course I do, but don’t worry—you’ll know today.  Xander Regnard will be here to talk about it.” Regnard was another name Iris was familiar with. A rising star in the Ministry had been a headline she’d seen once, another genius on par with Severus Snape.

“Do you know him?”


“Yes. Well, my parents—”

“Introduce me.”
Ambition was the defining trait of every Slytherin. People either kissed the ass of their superiors, or they became the superiors. She and Darius were of the sort who wanted to ascend.

“Why?”


“Call it a favor. I’ll owe you,”
she hated the words as they came out of her mouth, but Darius smiled.

“All right.” 


Bleu

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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #16 on: September 21, 2013, 10:34:51 pm »
All the students left the Hogwarts Express and made their way through the Hogsmeade station, lit with many bright lights and surrounded by the murmur of conversation. Ara, along with all the other prefects, exited their compartments before the rest to assist all other students and point them in the right direction – first years to the boats, and all the others to the carriages. It was a pesky job, but was necessary; he had a clean record as prefect, and wanted to keep it like that.

Once all the first years had settled nicely on their boats, Ara returned to the carriages with his friends. He noticed that Iris was no longer with them, and the Gryffindor assumed that she went with her other friends. That made sense to him, for if he had been presented with the same opportunity he might do the same. He had not yet seen a lot of his friends.

“Where’s Iris?” Ara couldn’t help but ask anyway, it bothered him – not knowing.

“She left with Rosier,” it was Geoff who confirmed where the Slytherin had gone off to, beating Zeph to the point. Ara thought it curious that she’d leave with him; perhaps they needed to speak of something on their own, for Ara had gotten the impression over the years that Iris did not fancy Rosier very much. They’d see each other at, or after, the sorting ceremony, where news about the tournament would surely be given to the students.

The thought excited and unnerved him.

All the changes made to rules, if any, would be given – when the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students would arrive, the age limit, the goblet of fire. The selection. These were all things that Ara and his friends wanted to hear but never knew where to ask. He also wanted to see all of his other friends, those he had not yet spotted in the train. Not to mention the fact that he was terribly hungry (his stomach made it a habit to remind him often of it), and the feast always had his favorites. His mouth watered just by thinking of all the food. Mmm – chicken legs and biscuits. 

“Do you think Regnard will be here for the ceremony?” Asked Henri as he trailed behind his friends, a smile at the sight of the carriages. He had not gotten used to them, and was fascinated by the invisible Thestrals. “I was reading up on news for the tournament back home, and apparently he’s the one to talk to.” Henri was always the one keeping track of things, and he volunteered such information as if he needed to. Ara grew tired of telling him that they liked him because he was cool, not because his information was generally useful and convenient. Their friendship had perks, though, and if Henri was unwilling to stop, that would be okay, too. 

“He might be,” said Ara, climbing up on one of the last carriages. As usual, they’d be one of the last ones to reach the castle. Prefects were always the last ones. “I’m equally worried about the changes that are going to be made on the schedules, Quidditch and all that. We nearly one last year, and we have to win this year.” He gave a shrug with a smile to Zeph. “Sorry, Zeph – I hate it that we’re on opposite teams.”

“You know sometimes I don’t get you.” Geoff shoved at Ara, who retaliated playfully. “How can you not be more excited about the tournament? If Regnard is here, everything else should go out the window, especially if you’re thinking of joining. Screw your classes and Quidditch!”

Once everyone was inside, the carriage began to move towards the castle. It grew grand before them, the Quidditch field across from the grounds, with the forest and the lake also inside. The feeling of home crept up on Ara, reminding him like always that the feeling would never go away. No matter how much he liked being home, and how much he loved his family, that feeling of being back in the castle remained unrivaled.

“I’m just glad to be back.”

There was general agreement around the carriage.

Their group made their way from the carriages and into the castle, finding the way easily into the great hall. The castle looked amazing, just as it did every year before that one– the staircases moving above them, and the portraits waving at them in welcome. The four tables were already assembled in their usual parallel fashion, intersecting the singular staff table where the professors and the Headmistress were already sitting. The ceiling was enchanted to look like the night sky, with lanterns floating above them in slight movement.

“I’ll see you guys afterwards,” Ara said to Zeph and Charlotte when time came for them to sit in their house tables. He moved along the hall and found his seat with Geoff and Henri both, his other friends having saved them seats before the start of the ceremony. They each exchanged quick hugs and well wishes before sitting down and beginning their repetitive conversation about the tournament. The topics which the trio covered in the compartment were repeated once more at the tables. This would continue to be as long as the tournament remained. 

In the table farthest from the Gryffindor table, the Slytherin table, a girl with bright, brilliant, golden hair sat. Her name was Cora Munslow, yet another sixth year who refused to follow the King and Queen of her house. She remained by herself as the great hall welcomed more and more students, going over the horrible summer she had just had, and the thought that many of her house friends would be thinking about joining the tournament.

Cora caught sight of several familiar faces with her olive-colored ovular eyes, but Ara’s stood out for her. Her cheeks turned a rosy pink color, and her skin lightly chilled at his sight. She couldn’t help it, no matter how hard she tried. That plain looking boy had never been so in her eyes, and he had been one of the few Gryffindors who treated her with kindness. That’s how they all ought to be. She didn’t like that she liked him, but she chose not to push the feelings back, but simply ignore them. Perhaps that would work better this year.

They were friends, but just friends.


Krystal Itzume

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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #17 on: September 21, 2013, 10:36:10 pm »
Inside the carriage Darius and Iris selected were some of the fawning fans of Darius, and his girl of the year. Iris had a bet going with Zephyr about when he’d dump this one. He usually did it early at the start of the new term, and selected a new “Queen” of Slytherin. ‘It has to be good this year.’ She thought. Already, the Yule Ball was being brought up by the girl with the brown eyes and Chinese features as she leaned against Darius’s arm.

And already, there were the signs of dismissal as he shrugged it off,
“It’s just a silly dance. They never bring any good bands to these things anyway,” he told Mai. The carriage moved, one of the lasts as well, but not the last. Darius had shirked his duty a little.

“I promise it won’t be that silly, Darius,”
Iris leaned against the wall of the carriage and averted her gaze to the window as Mai played with the boy’s robe. She had a similar feeling to Aradok. The castle was home, moreso than home would ever be to her. Her ‘house’ had all the dysfunction of home anyway.

Darius lightly pushed her away with a,
“Not now,” comment. He usually had no issues with PDA. She pouted, but Darius ignored her. Conversation continued around, but Iris ignored the topic of the tournament until her attention was called to it again, “Pyrite?” The glare from Mai was laughable.

“Hm?”


“Is that dueling club of yours running this year?”


“It runs every year, Rosier.”


“When is the first meeting?”


“Tomorrow.”
Like always. “Why?”

“Well, I just thought it might actually prove beneficial this year, if only to keep myself well-practiced for the tournament.”


“That counts as the favor.”


“Fine,” he shrugged. “Then you’ll be my partner for it.” Oh that beautiful glare from Mai. So insecure.

It was a smirk Darius earned for that,
“With pleasure,” he had no idea what he’d signed himself up for.


Zephyr laughed a little at the apology Aradok offered.
“Aw, but it’s kinda fun.” Admittedly, it was a bit of hindrance. Zephyr did try to avoid sending the bludger towards Aradok. He learned to aim more at brooms because of that. Better to hit them than a person. Zephyr was more of Geoff’s mind, though. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Someone who did well in the tournament would be looked at favorably outside of Hogwarts.

But, soon enough, he had to split for his own table. He waved farewell, and watched as a few Gryffindors waved Geoffrey and Aradok over. Another was the Keeper on the Quidditch team, a seventh year girl who seemed to always have her brunette hair back in a braid.

Charlotte went to join her friends at the Hufflepuff table. Zephyr took to the side of the table that was right near the Slytherin side. This was how it always worked, how he stayed in touch with his sister and annoyed the ever-living hell out of Darius.
‘Speak of the devil.’ As his quieter friends joined him, he saw Darius and Iris entering, Mai clinging to Darius like a wet shirt.


“That’s him, left of the Headmistress,”
Darius noted. He lifted his hand to wave at Regnard, but the man either didn’t see, or ignored him. “You really shouldn’t even enter,  Iris. It’ll just be embarrassing. Things are already set.” He believed too strongly in his connections.

“We’ll see,”
she answered calmly, just as Darius’s sights changed. They chose opposite sides of the table, she always setting behind Zephyr and before Rosier. On the side the Rosier boy chose sat pretty Cora, with cheeks blushing…a mistake.

“Well, well, well,” Darius spoke quietly as he came upon the girl and took his seat besides her. “Whoever could you be looking at so far across the way?” He had some idea, thanks in part to Iris who was aware of the friends Cora kept. “Should I go tell him?” He pretended to know exactly who it was, though he didn’t.

Iris ignored them. The food hadn’t appeared on the tables yet, but she was suddenly anxious to eat. She hadn’t eaten anything filling on the train. The cat was also looking up from her lap, anxious for the food to start appearing. It let out a pitiful sound as it examined the empty plates, then looked up at Iris to make her ‘fix it’.

She shook her head, glanced back up towards the professors and the Sorting Hat, which would soon begin its song to sort all the first years.


Bleu

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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #18 on: September 21, 2013, 10:47:43 pm »
Conversation was at an all-time high, with the great hall full and the students catching up on what had happened over the summer – the buzz made it nearly impossible to hear anyone who wasn’t next to them. Those who were late had now joined them, which completed the student body save first years. Friends were finally reunited.  The Triwizard Tournament, of course, was the main topic of conversation. Whispers were exchanged, and fingers were slightly pointed at the man next to the Headmistress.

“That is Zander Regnard,” said Henri in a hushed tone, as if what he was talking about was some big secret.  “I knew he would be here! I just knew it!”

Aradok looked at him, and vaguely recognized him from the papers. He was certainly a very important person, especially this year. The Gryffindor wouldn’t be surprised if that man was a judge in the tournament, for the person in charge was last time. Of course, that person had died in the middle of it. Regnard certainly had the pull for it. With a slight shrug, Ara turned to look at his friends, all of whom had their eyes set still on the man. If he were him, he wouldn’t want so many people looking at him, it would make him uncomfortable.

Then again, if he was to be the Hogwarts Champion, a lot of people would be looking his way and he’d have to get over his discomfort.

“He looks very serious,” commented Ara, looking at the empty plates before him. Boy, he was hungry. “That may not always be a bad thing, though.”

Geoff was talking to some other Gryffindors, those who did not necessarily want his company in return. He could really care less about the man.

“He looks alright to me,” disagreed Henri.

At the other side of the hall, Cora still sat, poised and silent. When Rosier approached and sat next to her, she rolled her eyes instinctively. What did he want now? Hadn’t he already picked his Queen? What fun could a jerk like him have picking on someone who clearly didn’t care – not to mention even like him? She did, however, give Iris a quick apologetic smile. Rosier clearly didn’t seem to catch the hint, for he spoke to her.

“What?”

When he asked what he did, she realized that she must have been blushing at the sight of Aradok. She quickly shook it off, recovering from the surprise. Even though Rosier technically had a higher rank than she did, she would not play his games. Did he even know who she was looking at? She cursed under her breath, for he knew the friends she kept outside of her own house. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that it would be one of the Gryffindor boys.

“Rosier, why don’t you go bother someone else at the other side of the table?” She hissed right back at him.

Before their conversation could really begin, the Headmistress, Professor McGonagall, stood from her seat, and quickly approached the owl podium and waited. This caused interest in the student body, they all shifted to look at her and eventually fell completely silent when she raised a single hand. She looked just as stiff as she always did, with her hair pushed back in a tight bun and her feathered hat propped nicely upon it – a green velvety robe fell to the floor and trained behind her.

“Welcome, students, to another school year here at Hogwarts. Before we begin our start of term feast, we must proceed with the sorting ceremony.” She mentioned a couple of other seemingly unimportant things, but eventually she proceeded with the ceremony.

She took several steps back and remained standing. The stool seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, and the old hat was already resting on top of it. The large double doors opened and a great number of first years marched forward. Most of them seemed in awe at the greatness that was the hall, some of them even looking at the enchanted ceiling. They were all led by a young professor, Oswic Romsey who taught Potions.

He asked them to wait several feet before they reached the stool and approached it, a list firmly clasped on his hand.

As usual, the sorting hat sang a song before the ceremony. A lot of it sounded like nonsense to most of the students, and Aradok particularly found it pointless to listen to it. However, this year the song took a different turn aside from briefly describing each house’s history. It spoke of dangers, tasks, and competition. The students from all houses seemed to enjoy this song much more than the past, and once it was finished singing, applause erupted inside the great hall.

Professor Romsey clapped a couple of times before opening the parchment and reading the first name from the list. The sorting ceremony had begun, and each house waited anxiously for more students to join their ranks. After the hat sang the decision, the respective house applauded and welcomed the student, just as they did every year. One by one the first years were each sorted, and at long last the last one made its way to Ravenclaw with a grin. Each house welcomed a fair number of students, and there seemed to be more first years this year than the last couple of years.

Ara shook hands with all the new first years belonging to Gryffindor, and was immediately asked questions about Quidditch and the tryouts. He simply laughed and said that first years were welcome to try out, but that competition was fierce this year.

Professor McGonagall took to the podium once more, and like it did before, the owl spread its wings and the students fell silent.

“Attention please,” she began her usual speech about Hogwarts and its rules. She described each and every one of the professors, advised against braking curfew with severe consequences, and asked the students not to frolic in the third floor corridor or the Dark Forest, for it was strictly forbidden. “Lastly, before we begin the feast, I would like to welcome Xander Regnard.”

This was the moment that Ara was waiting for – the moment that information on the tournament would finally be released. He eyed the man seriously, and waited.

They all waited.


Krystal Itzume

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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #19 on: September 21, 2013, 10:50:01 pm »
Darius certainly would have responded, confessed it more fun to bother Cora, but McGonagall demanded silence and respect.

Even Zephyr settled when the woman walked forward, and all eyes moved to the former Transfiguration teacher. She spoke, and the ceremony soon began. Slytherin, as usual, welcomed the least amount of new students, but they celebrated each one just like every other house. The Head Boy and Head Girl dealt with them, let them sit near if they didn’t already have friends in the house. The unwritten rules of Slytherin house were revealed.

Despite the schisms, all Slytherins were meant to stick together. It was that one rule which made Iris answer the call of Darius, and others in Slytherin. Darius was shown to follow it as well. They succeeded, united, unlike those in Ravenclaw who focused on independent gain. Slytherins well understood the power of connections, which was how so many avoided prison later in life, or gained excellent positions in the outside world.

Those connections led to Xander Regnard, former Slytherin who had the intelligence of a Ravenclaw. His brown hair fell in waves to his shoulders, and his chocolate eyes had been examining the room and looking over the students, while he chatted with Professor Ruden Flagg, the Dark Arts teacher, off and on. He was young, had graduated from Hogwarts sometime after the Voldemort fiasco. Ruden was worried about the tournament; their discussion was grave.

Yet, when he was announced, his expression lost some of its gravity. He rose and gave a smile to the school as a whole, before walking around the table,
“I never realized how long this table was until now,” he told McGonagall as he came to the owl podium. He took her place at it, “Well, hello everyone,” he greeted, “I am Xander Regnard, former graduate of House Slytherin,” applause erupted from that side of the hall. He chuckled, “I had a good time here at Hogwarts, so this is a treat,” he seemed to be soaking it all in, and did let his gaze drift to the floating candles, before settling again on the student body. “I suppose I should get to the point. You’re all eager to hear about the renewal of the Triwizard tournament, aren’t you?” He got some impatient shouts that yes, yes they were eager.

“Well, we shouldn’t keep everyone waiting then,”
he lifted his hands. Two claps, and the doors sprung open once more, and into the Great Hall floated two more tables which were set up like the teacher’s tables, horizontal to the house tables. A golden carpet was  rolled out. Boys and girls in pale blue walked down that carpet and to the left table, ranging in age from 15 to 18, before the headmistress followed after. She did not sit at the table, but walked up the path between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff to greet McGonagall. Xander welcomed her, took her two hands with his as he leaned over to place a kiss on either cheek.

She stepped aside then, as the Durmstrang students entered without as much pomp and flair. They marched in two lines, dressed in furs and black clothing, and only the eldest and most advanced of their students were present. Everything was done as if they were part of a military academy, and the Highmaster looked just as stern with his thin, gray hair, angular face, and beaked nose. He walked up as the Headmistress of Beauxbaton’s had done, shook McGonagall’s hand, and also Xander’s, before stepping to the right.


“Please give a warm welcome to the students of the school Beauxbaton and Durmstrang,”
applause again. Darius was openly eying a pretty girl from Beauxbaton. Mai finally settled into a pout, arms crossed and scowling. “They are here because this year, Hogwarts will be hosting the Triwizard Tournament. Some of the rules have been changed from last time,” he glanced to the Highmaster, as if some of it were his doing. “Because last year Hogwarts had the rather unfair advantage of two champions, all schools will be allowed two champions this year!”

Zephyr and Iris both looked back at each other. A grin spread across their lips, and they both high-fived with the mere thought that they could be in the same tournament.
“I won’t go easy.”

“Wouldn’t expect it.”


As the excitement at that news settled, he continued,
“There will still be three challenges, as there are three schools. Unfortunately, this will have to cancel Quidditch for Hogwarts,” there were groans at the news. “I know, I know, I love Quidditch, too,” he settled them.

Bleu

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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #20 on: September 21, 2013, 10:52:24 pm »
As soon as Regnard took to the podium, the hall fell completely silent – still, even. People were anxiously waiting to hear what he had to say, to see if there was any hidden advice.  Aradok looked at him, expecting him to leap into the news of the tournament and the rules that had been changed. For the moment, the feast had long been forgotten. His stomach rumbled, but the Gryffindor did not notice it any longer. Whether or not these rules would impact his motivation in joining, he could not know yet.

When he spoke at long last, admitting to having been a student of Slytherin House, he let out a smile. He clapped politely for him, but only he and a handful of first years seemed to do so. Most of the applause came from Slytherin House. Slytherins were known to show favoritism, but Ara hoped that in this situation, the decisions would be left for the Goblet of Fire. Only then would he truly be comfortable if the champion were a Slytherin.

“Of course…” whispered Geoff to Ara in between Regnard’s sentences. Ara shrugged it off and made Geoff pay attention with a slight shove. “Yeah, yeah, alright…”

When Ara turned back to listen to Regnard, the former Slytherin clapped his hands twice, and the doors of the great hall were opened once more. Two tables came gliding in and intersected the house tables. Oohs and aahs were heard from all the younger students, and eventually, the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang came in. Ara looked at them all carefully, noticing the beauty with which the girls walked, and the strength with which the men stomped. Cora could not help but admire the girls pretty dresses and their similarly golden hair.

The Headmistress followed after her students and the Highmaster after his. They both looked equally intimidating in their own way. Ara was pleased to admit, however, that Professor McGonagall was more so.

There were a couple of students from Durmstrang that towered over him, looking several years older and much stronger. How could they have not graduated yet? Then the thought that they were merely big settled in his mind. It would be harder to fight against these two schools than he had earlier anticipated. In that moment, Ara felt a bit of doubt upon joining the tournament. These students would look at him like an excuse of a wizard, puny and small in comparison to them.

Then again, he would prove them wrong just as easily.

“They’re fit…” Said Geoff with a silly grin.

Ara only chuckled, his attention fixated on the students, clapping with the rest of the students in welcome. Then something completely unexpected happened. Regnard informed the students that this year two champions would be allowed from each school, for a total of six champions. There were benefits and drawback to this, however, as Ara quickly realized. It would be easier to be selected as a champion – statistically more possible. It would, therefore, be harder to win – statistically less possible.

“You and me, man,” said Geoff, now determined to become a Hogwarts Champion.

“It better be,” agreed Ara with a wide grin, the widest he had given yet.

The good news did not last too long, however, when Quidditch was announced to be canceled for the year. As quickly as he had gotten excited, Ara deflated. He was the captain of the sport, and throughout most of the summer he had been planning strategies to bring the Quidditch Cup back to Gryffindor.  Ara would dearly miss the feeling of competition in a match, fighting the rain and taking deep dives to catch the Quaffle. A lot of the students from each house felt the same as he. So did Regnard apparently.

No matter how much Aradok loved Quidditch, though, he could see the reasoning behind it being canceled this year. Scheduling conflicts would be hard to arrange, and too much time would have to be paid for the tournament. He coped with it quickly, but determined that he had to be a Hogwarts Champion if he couldn’t be Quidditch captain. The time he would otherwise allot to the sport he would to the tournament. He allowed himself to hope that perhaps a task in the tournament would require him to fly.

Cora had handled all the introductions and the changes gracefully, for nothing directly impacted her. That was until she heard Quidditch was canceled. This would have been her second year on the team, and she was looking forward to facing Ara once more on the field. Chaser to chaser. She moved her hair out of her face and frowned. Other than her studies, what else would she look forward to now? Supporting Rosier in the tournament? She wouldn’t do that.

She turned to look at Iris, ignoring Rosier between them, for an idea sparked on her mind. “I really, really hope you get selected as a Hogwarts Champion, Iris. That way I can make some pretty banners for you at the tasks.” Cora liked Iris, and she couldn’t really think of a better Slytherin Champion. If there was anybody else who would be selected aside from Rosier, it was her.

Professor McGonagall approached the podium again, once the commotion had settled down, the feather on her hat trailing behind her. With a polite nod towards Regnard, she raised her hand and the hall fell silent once more. The students looked at her curiously, wondering what else could possibly be said on the matter. To her, there were some things that had remained unsaid, especially to the new students at the castle.

“I would like to welcome each and every one of you to Hogwarts,” she spoke to the students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. “I will remind you, however, that there are rules that need to be followed, as I am sure you have already been informed. Make yourselves at home, but keep them in mind. I will enforce them just as harshly as I would to my students.” Her stern nature once more commanded the attention, and Ara shared a quick smile with her. “Without further ado, let the feast begin.”

Almost instantly, the silver plates were filled with food. Aradok looked at all the options and was reminded just how hungry he really was. Before he started eating, however, he stood looking over at the Hufflepuff and Slytherin tables. He caught sight of Zephyr, and with a thumbs-up, conveyed just how excited he was about Hogwarts having two champions. He also looked over at Iris, and gave her a familiar smile before catching sight of Rosier. He gave him a polite nod and turned to Cora, who he simply waved at before sitting back down.

Her cheeks once more went rosy, but she hid them with her hair. There was food on the table, and she was just as hungry as everybody else.


Krystal Itzume

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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #21 on: September 21, 2013, 10:54:16 pm »
The braided keeper, Skylar, was also disappointed with the fact Quidditch was cancelled. She let out a sigh. It was going to be her last year. She had so wanted to bring the Cup back in her last year. Of course, the disappointment of others seemed to be shaken off with thoughts of the tournament. 'I'll be joining the Pride of Portree when the year is up at least.' She had already been accepted to play professionally.

It was that reason alone which would keep her from throwing her name in the tournament. She couldn't get injured before then. Or die.
"Good luck to you both," she said to Aradok and Geoffrey as the two made their plans. Two from Gryffindor would be grand! She would live vicariously through them. "One of you better win, I'll not tolerate another house winning if we can't bring back the Cup this year."


Iris blinked at Cora when she spoke encouraging words.
‘You won’t enter?’ Perhaps that was a foolish question, though. She did let a smile curve her lips before Darius could truly pout about the lack of attention, “Thank you,” Cora was not bad. Of course, anyone who was not in the fan club of Darius was usually all right by her. “Oh, can they have gold colorings? Some of them?” She leaned forward to converse with her, to annoy Darius.

“Gold?”
His nose wrinkled. Gryffindor’s colors, of course, but Iris had taken a shining to it when Darius decided to mock her surname. “What about—”

But Iris talked over him,
“We’ll have to find a way to go to Hogsmeade together before the Yule Ball to get new dresses,” she wasn’t all that excited about the dance, but if they got a good band it might be fun to at least mingle with so many other students. She wasn’t sure how often she’d get a chance to speak to Durmstrang and Beauxbaton students. Perhaps she’d be able to talk a few of them into participating in the Dueling Club this year. ‘Would that be allowed?’ Questions for McGonagall. She liked the stern woman. A smile or a laugh from the Headmistress was worth embarrassing oneself for.

Darius glared as he was shut out, and decided he’d have more fun with his adoring fans than the two girls who were evidently plotting against him. He’d have revenge later. He had an idea who Cora liked. He’d just have to concoct something humiliating to put her through. Such thoughts occupied him as he spoke with his posse.

McGonagall also interrupted immediate plotting. Iris cast her eyes to the woman as she spoke about the rules, smirked just a little
. ‘Poor, poor students.’ First years and the foreigners. They’d be in for quite the awakening if they disobeyed. The food appeared for all, but before Iris could dig in, Zephyr nudged her from behind. She glanced over just as Zephyr gave a lazy salute to Aradok. She gave a smile in return and an inclination of her head before turning back to enjoy the meal.

Darius scowled.

Iris quickly sorted out what things she wanted to eat as she heard Zephyr shouting down the Hufflepuff table for things to be passed his way.


Bleu

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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #22 on: September 21, 2013, 10:59:27 pm »
Ara shared a look with Skylar, one of disappointment that Quidditch would not happen. He had heard, however, that she was already signed to play professionally, and he offered his congratulations on such a feat. He had always wanted to play professionally, but the competitiveness in the chaser division was insane, only the best of the absolute best played professional teams. It was at least something to aspire to, a future that was put on hold.

He quickly lost thought of anything but the food, the scent of it all invading his nostrils. It all looked so good, and Ara tried real hard to eat a little of everything so he could try all the he could. Geoff was partial to the chicken, and he was eating as if he had not had anything in years. Henri liked the steamed vegetables, and not so much the meat. The conversation continued, but at a more paced speed. People indulged themselves in the food, and they occasionally looked over at the staff to see them enjoying themselves, too.

“A Gryffindor has to make it as a Champion, and it would be amazing if both of them were!” Said Henri between bites. “I’m rooting for both of you.”

Ara was grateful; apparently most of his friends were also going to submit their names. Gryffindor would have a good chance at being represented in the tournament. If only probability played a greater role in the Champion Selection. That was still to be seen.
Cora spoke with Iris, who caught on to her plan in annoying the hell out of Rosier. She spoke of dresses, patterns, banners, and fan clubs – all made to support her in the tournament. She wouldn’t be caught dead supporting Rosier if she could help it. Once the food formed on their plates, however, conversation was scarce. There was enough food for everyone, but the students – especially the first years – looked like they had never seen so much food at the same time before. 

Cora made polite conversation with the new kids, assuring them that things weren’t as scary as they looked. The huge castle, with its moving stairwells and pictures, was surely a frightening thing to behold, more so among the muggle born students.

Time passed, and soon the students all looked like they had all had enough food for the evening. Some platters still held food, but most of them remained empty. From the staff table, Professor McGonagall made her way to the podium and waved her wand. As if it had been there all along, a stand covered in a single white sheet of fabric appeared before them. She cleared her throat and the hall went silent – the food already gone from the platters.

“I hope you all enjoyed the feast, students, but the time for festivities is now over,” said she with a serious tone. “In case you are all wondering how you enter the tournament, I will enlighten you.” With the wave of her wand, the sheet flew off the stand to reveal a brilliantly magnificent goblet, with a bright blue flame burning from within. “This is the Goblet of Fire, a very old, very powerful magical object, whose purpose is to select the Champions who will be participating in the tournament.”

Aradok looked at it, entranced by its bright flame. He had heard of this object, but had never really seen it. It was beautiful.

“All of the students who wish to participate in the tournament need only cast their names written in a piece of parchment into the flames. You can do this as early as tomorrow, for the goblet will be set in the center of the room. The Champion Selection will be taking place at the end of the week.” She took a pause, staring down at the students who eyed the goblet mischievously. “Do not treat this tournament lightly, for it is a serious competition with grueling tasks and obstacles. If you are selected, you will go through the tournament on your own. No one will be able to help you, so enter at your own risk.”

A feeling of gloom lingered on the hall, and the students looked from Professor McGonagall to the goblet and back. She was serious, and she made sure that they understood the implications of such a commitment. Already, Ara could tell that even the bravest of students were thinking twice about entering the tournament. Was fame and glory worth death?

“Now, your schedules will be given to you at your common rooms, along with a map of the castle for all the first years. Do not be late to class, and do not cause any mischief. The consequences will be severe if you do. Prefects, please make sure you lead your houses to the common rooms, Head Students, oversee that this is done. Have a good evening, everyone.”

Aradok rose from his seat with his fellow prefects, choosing to take the first years ahead of the rest. He called to them, introduced himself, and led them out of the Great Hall and towards the staircases. They traveled all the way up to the Gryffindor Tower, where they meet the fat lady. Ara assured all the students the importance of the house password, and how imperative it was to not share it with members outside of their house.

The awestruck first years only nodded to him, afraid of his authority, before finally entering.

Just like that, they day had come and gone, but at least, he was finally home. The fire crackled from the fire place, and now rain could be heard from the window. A smile formed on his lips.


Krystal Itzume

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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #23 on: September 21, 2013, 11:00:23 pm »
Dinner went on as it always did. The routine was easy to fall back in to. Zephyr prodded Iris a few times. ‘Swear I may as well be a Hufflepuff.’ Of course, Iris would rather die than be in Hufflepuff. It was perfect for Zephyr, who didn’t mind disappointing their father in the least. He reveled in it.

And one of the accursed muggle-born had taught him (and others) about this “honey badger” that didn’t care. It was now the badger of Hufflepuff, a viciously honest creature. The muggle-borns corrupted everything, but Iris did see the appeal, the reasons why Zephyr wanted to learn more and study more. Plenty of them tended to end up in Hufflepuff, and so he was heavily influenced. Very few ever ended up in Slytherin. Half-bloods were rare enough.

Soon enough, the festivities were brought to an end. The hall fell silent and all eyes moved to the Headmistress again. The Goblet of Fire floated into the room. Iris laid her hungry eyes upon it, let them feast upon its image.
‘Soon.’ This drive that her brother thought was all to impress their father was not just that. She needed to step out of a long shadow, the one cast by the contacts of the family. She needed to stand out, so she would be able to say ‘no’ without the concern of being left helpless because she wouldn’t play the game. People would support her for who she was, not who she was connected to. It was every Slytherin's dream. Winning this tournament would grant her that.

She barely even noticed that feeling of gloom. All it meant to her was less people to compete against so far as being chosen was concerned.

The typical things were mentioned. Iris smiled to Cora as she rose, and it turned mischievous as she looked to Rosier.
‘Haha, you have to deal with the first years.’ And people wondered why she was glad not to be a Prefect.

As Darius began to call the first years to order to follow him, she walked over to the Head Boy as he was rising to stand.
“Hey,” she greeted. He nodded in acknowledgment. “What is the starting password?” It changed frequently.

The man bent a little to whisper,
“Parseltongue.” He straightened, “Why?”

“I just have a question for McGonagall,”
the Head Boy seemed to wince at the idea. McGonagall could be a very frightening woman, and he took her words to heart. She was too severe.

“Have fun,”
the sarcasm was noted as they parted, and she walked around him towards the teacher’s table as their conversations drifted while the students began to depart. Very few students ever seemed to approach the teachers in the Great Hall.

The weight of that, and who McGonagall was, did press on her as she walked up the step and onto the teacher’s platform. Professor Flagg noticed her first and rose from his seat,
“Is something the matter, Iris?” He inquired, interrupting his conversation with Xander.

Iris shook her head, smile flickering to her lips before her eyes fell upon the McGonagall,
“Headmistress, I had a question I would like to ask,” since it would be stupid to ask if she could ask a question, she moved right into it, “I was curious if it would be acceptable for the students of Beauxbaton and Durmstrang to participate in the Dueling Club while they are here.” She supposed the question should also be directed to the heads of those respective schools, but the thought came belatedly.

Bleu

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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #24 on: September 22, 2013, 07:12:55 pm »
The students had, like they did every year, happily left the Great Hall to go back to their dormitories. Professor McGonagall remained with the staff a little longer, having still some matters to discuss with them. It didn’t come as a surprise, however, when young Iris Pyrite came forward. The Headmistress paid no mind to the small exchange that happened between Professor Flagg and the student; instead she simply nodded at a question that clearly could not have waited until later.

“Miss Pyrite,” greeted McGonagall with a stiff nod. “I’m afraid that it is not entirely up to me to decide that. I am responsible for the activities that apply to my students. If their respective overseers allow it, I do not see why they couldn't.” The Beauxbatons Headmistress looked over at McGonagall in wonder, as did the Highmaster of Durmstrang. The latter would certainly have no problem with it, while the prior remained to be seen. “I will talk to them about it, for it is not something that has been done before. I must warn you, Miss Pyrite, that I expect you to handle things appropriately if other students are invited. You are more than capable of it.”

She briefly turned to look at other members of the staff, who were patiently waiting for the Headmistress to finish whatever business she had with the student. “I will let you know tomorrow, Miss Pyrite. Go ahead and go back to your dormitory for the time being. We all have a busy week.” She gave her farewell to the student before meeting with the members of the staff.

Things still needed to be discussed, and the age line still needed to be fashioned. Among other things.

***

The night had been a good one, with horseplay and sweets accompanied by conversation, gossip, and wagers.  The Gryffindor common room had been chaotic, and for once, Aradok was not inclined to stop it. It was their first night back at the castle, and he and his friends could not have had a better time. They spoke of the tournament, the students from the other schools, their classes, and their summers. They ate further still, and pretended to duel each other. It was a grand night.

When the morning came, however, those spirits that had been so vibrant the night before were now deflated – forced to acknowledge the fact that school had started once more. Geoff had been the last one out of the common room, cursing his luck at having to up so early. After the tertiary attempt to get Geoff ready in time, Aradok left him on his own, assuring that they would meet up for lunch later in the day. Henri had also been long gone.

Aradok, unlike most of his friends, had no trouble getting up in the morning. He had plenty of things to still look forward to. The first would be submitting his name to the Goblet of Fire in the Great Hall, and maybe see who else had done the same. The competition had already started. The second would be his Dark Arts lesson in the dungeons. He loved the subject and it would be a good day.

With his bag strapped over his shoulder and his wand at the ready, he hurried down the moving staircases, occasionally waving to his friends in passing. It was a long way down from the Gryffindor tower. Ecstatic, he made it to the main floor, looking at the Great Hall’s open doors. Inside, and in the center, stood the Goblet of Fire, an age line drawn to perfection around it. Ara had heard that the age limit had gone down to 15, which was not a big difference.

Henri still could not enter.

“Good morning, Ara.” Said Cora in greeting.

Aradok turned to look at her, a little surprised that he had not noticed her when he came in. “Good morning to you, too, Cora. How are you?” He placed the bag on one of the many tables surrounding the goblet. He had seen her the day before, but they had not gotten the time to talk. Cora was Ara’s other close friend from Slytherin. She was genuinely nice.

“I’m well. I was just looking around to see who’d submit their name into the Goblet in the morning.”

Ara’s curiosity had been sparked. “Who has?”

From the many pockets of his bag, Ara took a single piece of parchment, his quill, and his ink. The thought of entering the tournament was all that he could think of at that moment. The doubts that had presented themselves last night were no longer there, not even an afterthought of them. They were completely gone. Only ambition, determination, and admiration were with him. The Gryffindor wrote his name neatly on the paper.

Aradok Lundstrom

“Not many people, actually. You’re the first I have seen today.” Said Cora.

A giggle.

“I’m sure people will start coming around soon.”

With that, he folded up the paper, and tossed it into the fire.


Krystal Itzume

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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #25 on: September 22, 2013, 07:16:01 pm »
McGonagall was always stiff, but she was never impolite. Iris held her in high regard, higher than most if she were forced to admit it, though she could not explain why from the few conversations they had. Still, Iris nodded when McGonagall insisted that this came with responsibility. Managing the club itself was a responsibility, and she would treat the others fairly. “Thank you, Headmistress. Have a good night,” an inclination of her head, and she turned on her heel to follow the path down to the dungeons.

~***~

Iris always rose early, and that day was no exception though it came with Mai shook her. The girl almost received a slap for it when Iris woke. She did grab her arm and wrenched the young girl forward, causing her to stumble and bang her knees against the bed.
“Ow, ow ow!” Her grip on the other girl’s wrist hurt. “Darius said if you wanted to see Xander to wake up!”

Mai’s arm was released. She stepped back to massage it as Iris sat up, brushed a few strands of strawberry blond hair from her eyes. She didn’t speak to Mai as she got out of the bed and slowly went about dressing herself and preparing for the morning. Her class schedule was Dark Arts, Magical Theory, and Dueling Club.
‘And Darius has joined.’ Oh, this was going to be a good day.

Someone might end up in the hospital, though.

Darius was waiting, picture perfect for the first day in his black robes with all the green and silver highlights. At his side was one of his flunkies, also immaculately dressed for the day.
“Shall we?”

Iris rolled her eyes, didn’t accept the arm but walked by him to exit. It was too early for such games, and she was not a chipper morning person like her brother despite her ability to rise early. She usually didn’t talk until she’d been awake for an hour.

Darius wasn’t put off. He walked after her and soon took a bit of a lead. Living in such close quarters for six years allowed him to know the habits of other Slytherins.
“This way,” he motioned towards the stairs. Apparently Xander was not put in the dungeons. “He’s been given use of a room on the Fourth Floor, near the library,” his request, apparently. “Access to the Restricted section, too.” Up they traveled. The Restricted Section was nothing new to Iris. Flagg and the teacher of Magical Theory, Roxanna Littrel, gave her permission in the past to examine a few books. Roxanna was a bit of an eccentric woman, a muggle-born who thought magic was lagging behind muggle technology.

“How do you know all this?”
It was starting to get annoying how informed Darius was.

“My parents,”
he answered. “He is a family friend.”

Apparently a good one.

Darius knocked on the door.
“Come in, Dar.” Good enough that he was nicknamed. Darius opened the door, waved to his flunkie to wait, and the two entered. “You’re on time.” There was tea and sweet pastries already on a table. The room was full of books, potions, something bubbling that Xander was paying attention to. “Please, sit, eat.”

Darius knew better than to disturb the man while his attention was occupied, but he couldn’t help saying,
“If we’re on time why are you busy?”

“Miscalculation,”
new recipe for a potion that would work opposite of veritaserum, but be impossible to tell apart from veritaserum. Well, at least for now. He wasn’t telling the Ministry when he succeeded. The clear liquid bubbled, a lavender smoke escaping from it. They believed he was making a more reliable truth serum, which he did intend to work on, as well.

Iris sat, though her eyes drifted to the ingredients around the room, near to where he was working. The man finally sprinkled a powder into the mixture, extinguished the fire. A puff of gray smoke lifted, before the liquid turned purple and he shook his head.
“More to do later.”

“What are you making?”


Xander slid comfortably into a chair,
“A more reliable truth serum. The Ministry wants one that can be used in trials,” he answered. Iris frowned. These weren't ingredients she'd associate with 'truth'. “You said you had something from your mother?”

Darius nodded and took a letter out from the pockets of his robes, passed it off. Xander did not open it there, but set it aside.
“She knew I’d see you before she did, so she asked me to deliver it personally.”

“I understand.” Iris didn’t bother to ask why the owls couldn’t be used. She’d seen her father had a strong mistrust of the system. He feared the Ministry still spied on former Death Eaters. The Rosiers would have that same concern. “So, who is your friend?” He knew already, Ruden had explained after the girl walked off.

“Iris Pyrite,”
he made a lazy motion, “She’s planning to enter the competition. Maybe you can talk sense into her.” A smirk. “I mean, there’s no way she’d get in.”

Xander didn’t justify the implication with a comment of reassurance. He was no Mad-Eye Moody. He could enchant the Goblet, but he had no reason to. The best of the best should be chosen.
“She is the president of the Dueling Club, ah—my apologies, you are right here,” Xander extended a hand out. She leaned forward to accept, “Xander Regnard, and do forgive me, I have been up all night.”

Iris nodded,
“Forgiven,” one shake. They broke away, “I am the president. Darius is joining this year. Professor Flagg is the supporter of the club.”

He smiled,
“That’s where I learned it. I was pleased the club was brought back,” he noted, “I’d be concerned, Darius,” a soft smile, “Someone with good dueling skills and capable of getting into the Dark Arts class might very well be chosen for the competition.”

“I’m a good duelist,”
he insisted.

‘We’ll see.’


Xander humored him with a nod. In his time, he hadn't quite been 'King' of Slytherin, certainly popular, but he found that the boastful one was rarely the best. Perhaps the most well connected, but rarely the best overall,
“It would be nice to have two from Slytherin in this time. The team challenges would go smoother.” Both of them perked, as Xander realized his ‘slip’. He shook his head, “I really should stop talking. It is so hard to keep these things secret.”

“How many challenges, what team challenges?”
Darius wanted to insist that he spill his secrets.

Again, Xander just shook his head to deny him the information, brown hair brushing his cheeks.
“I’m sorry, I was not even supposed to mention that just yet.” He easily turned the conversation in another direction, asking after the classes of the two until Darius decided it was time to leave and let Xander get back to his business.

They left, and Darius’s face screwed up in amusement when he saw the flunkie had waited.
“You’re still here? You could have gone to have breakfast….” He criticized his inability to think as they walked towards the Great Hall, to enter of course.

Zephyr had arrived minutes ago and entered. He was the chipper morning person, found it odd that Iris wasn’t already there. Chaos was the rule of the Great Hall for every meal besides the dinners. People sat where they wanted. Without Iris to bother, he decided to join Aradok—after he put his name in the Goblet.
“Please, Charlotte? I forgot my stuff in the room.”

“How do you survive school?”
Charlotte asked as she found her notebook, quill, and ink.

“Magic.”
He answered, and Charlotte hit her forehead as one of the first-year, muggle borns, laughed. Zephyr’s name was scrawled on the piece of paper and he quickly hopped over to the Goblet to place his name within.

Zephyr Pyrite.[/FONT]

Timing was good, or bad, perhaps. Iris and Darius arrived then. Zephyr was not at all pleased to see the two together, and took out his frustration by hugging Darius. “LOVER!”

His wide-eyed reaction, and the shove, was well worth it. Darius’s hand almost went for his wand to retaliate, but quickly decided that wasn’t worth it when Zephyr righted himself. He had gotten tall.
“What in all of the world is wrong with you?”

“You make it impossible to think, my dear,”
he answered. Iris ignored them both as she wrote her name on a bit of scrap paper and put it into the fire.

Iris Pyrite

Darius pushed by Zephyr once that was done, passed over the age line. Iris abandoned him then, Zephyr taking her under his arm.
“Why do I keep seeing you with him?”

“We’re Slytherins.”


“That does not answer it. Do I have to punch him? I can get my beater bat.”


“No, Zephyr.”


“Please?”


“No.”
His hatred was irrational. Darius was annoying, but not worth inflicting such violence upon. Zephyr whimpered. "We went to see Xander. He knows the man."

"Cheating this early in the game?"


Iris let out a sigh. It was always 'cheating' with him.


 

Bleu

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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #26 on: September 22, 2013, 07:18:29 pm »
The Great Hall very quickly became chaotic. More and more people began to arrive, each of them tossing their name into the Goblet of Fire. Ara did not want to get discouraged, but the amount of people entering the tournament from Hogwarts alone was unbelievable. He acknowledged that with each name that went in, his chances of being selected fell. At this rate, he wouldn’t stand a chance against all the seventh years who seemed to have made a pact that their whole class would enter.

‘Yikes…’

Cora remained with him and they exchanged polite conversation as they waited for the others before class. Eventually Zephyr arrived, shortly followed by Charlotte, Henri, and Geoff, among others. Marzia and her group of friends also were hanging around the Great Hall. Cora, who did not like Marzia very much, decided to stay close to Ara, even after his other friends arrived. Whether jealousy or intimidation, she did not know. She didn’t want to know.

“Did you already put your name in?” Asked Henri to Ara, who answered that he had.

Geoffrey took out a torn piece of paper from his school things, and with his quill scribbled his name across it. “I don’t know why so many people are bothering putting in their names into the goblet, everybody knows that I’m going to be the champion.”  The fact that two champions were going to be selected escaped his mind. Henri couldn’t believe how easily the Gryffindor had forgotten such an important rule change in the tournament.

Geoffrey Figg

“There are two champions per school, Geoff,” reminded Ara. Geoff turned a bright shade of red in embarrassment.

"Idiot," said Cora.

Some time passed, and when the Great Hall seemed to have been full, even more students came in. Iris came with Rosier and his posse – students from the other schools also began to arrive. It looked like all of the students that had come on this trip were going to enter the tournament. Almost all of the students from Durmstrang towered over Aradok, who was considerably tall for his age. They were intimidating. The Headmistress and Highmaster had also made appearances in the morning to make sure that their students entered without any trouble.

Professor McGonagall strode with her head held high, her green robes and hat adorned as they usually were. Most of the students fell silent, but she didn’t speak to the whole student body as a whole. Instead she approached Iris, a stiff, but obvious, smile on her lips. “Good morning Miss Pyrite,” began she in greeting. “I have talked to the Headmistress of Beauxbatons and the Durmstrang Highmaster – both have allowed their students to participate in the dueling club if they so wish.”

A pause.

“Mr. Patel please get down from the table!” She bellowed at the sight of a student standing on a table.

That was a mistake, and points were taken from Gryffindor. Already, they were starting the year at a disadvantage.

Professor McGonagall seemed to be in a rush, and therefore did not stay very long. She gave her farewell to Iris, urged the students to hurry to their classes, and left. Aradok, who until then had been relaxing with his friends, approached Iris. Only a handful of students had qualified for Dark Arts, and Iris was the person he got along with most. The young Gryffindor assumed that they could walk to the dungeons together.

A though then came to him, one that made sense for him.

“Morning,” he said to his Slytherin friend. “I think we’ve got Dark Arts together.” He smiled before continuing. “Hey Iris, I think I am going to join the Dueling Club. I mean, there is no Quidditch this year, and since I put my name in the Goblet of Fire, a little practice couldn’t hurt.” Ara had dueled before, and had emerged successful. These were, of course, with his friends, who confused their spells and curses easily. He had never dueled with anyone in the dueling club.

He was not concerned that he would be outmatched, for that was most probable, because he excelled at both Defense Against the Dark Arts and Dark Arts. He picked things up quickly, and excelled through discipline and practice. This would be no different.


Krystal Itzume

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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #27 on: September 22, 2013, 07:24:13 pm »
As Iris split from Darius with Zephyr, McGonagall arrived. Both of them paused when it became clear that they were her destination. Iris tried not to get her hopes up, but that stiff smile did cause them to rise. Iris nodded to the greeting, not daring to speak lest she inadvertently interrupt the woman when she continued talking. The news was good. ‘Excellent!’ No doubt, the students of Durmstrang and Beauxbaton would have things to offer. “Thank you, Headmistress,” Iris inclined her head, finding it difficult to mask her joy to keep it at the same level of calm as the messenger.

McGonagall’s attention turned, and quick farewells were given before Zephyr led her to a table. He hadn’t had breakfast yet, so he quickly began to take things from the table. Iris wasn’t even sure he looked at what he grabbed, because he doused a doughnut in gravy. She watched as he talked about the plans for Hogsmeade that were already being made, waiting for him to bite into the doughnut.

When he did, the reaction was priceless. It looked like he was about to spit it out, but then reconsidered. He looked back down, meticulously cut into the doughnut, examined it on his fork, and took another bite. Then, he smiled, and spoke through a mouthful,
“This is good!”

Iris shook her head,
“You are our mother’s child.” Their mother made the most bizarre things.

“Speak of the devil,”
Zephyr motioned up as the owls came to deliver their messages, their packages. Their mother always sent them care packages every two weeks. Her owl was visible among those above, and dropped the gift on the table. Zephyr opened it, sorted out the items. They were mostly foodstuff, sweets and drinks, bottles of butterbeer. It was all sorted evenly between them, before other students started to move. “Baah…class time,” he grumbled.

“What do you have now?”
Iris asked.

“Transfiguration,”
he didn’t care for it, but of his options it seemed the best. “I wanna go to the animal class.”

She patted him on the shoulder,
“You’re going to end up at a dragon sanctuary one day.” He smiled up at that as she moved her sweets into her bag and prepared to head off. “I’ll expect a dragon egg.”

“Deal!”
Totally illegal, of course.

Iris soon found herself in step with Aradok.
“Good morning,” she returned the greeting. She nodded at his assumption; she was pretty sure they had Dark Arts together if he was on the way there now. Then he spoke of the dueling club, “Really?” Hard to believe she could be so luck to have the two other schools join, Darius, and Aradok. “This is my lucky year. The Durmstrang and Beauxbaton students are being allowed to join as well. We’ll be able to learn a lot from them.” She was actually very pleased about that. She’d heard Durmstrang students were excellent duelists. “We meet in the Great Hall, at 9pm. After this meeting, we catch up every Friday.” There were other, unofficial meetings that tended to gather in the Room of Requirement. Iris had little plan of announcing that now, or to the other students. Durmstrang and Beauxbaton didn’t need to know all the secrets of the castle.

Soon enough, they arrived in the dungeons. The door to the class was already open, and a few of the other students were there. Darius Rosier was already present—he liked to make a good impression to the Head of House, though Ruden Flagg was not yet present. None of his posse were in this class. They hadn’t been good enough. A frown crossed his face at the sight of Aradok and Iris. His summons went ignored when he waved Iris over.

Ruden Flagg did arrive, just a little before time. He looked harried, but smiled as he looked over his small class,
“Wonderful,” he spoke more to himself than to the others. “I hate large classes,” he confessed to the group. “We’ll get a lot more done this year.” He was enthused about that possibility, brushed a hand over cropped, black hair.

Bleu

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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #28 on: September 22, 2013, 07:28:49 pm »
While most of the students resumed submitting their names into the goblet, Ara looked to his friends who had now congregated in the breakfast tables. Was Zephyr dipping a doughnut in gravy? He would enjoy himself during breakfast more any other day; that day was just to hectic for him to bring himself to join them. He wanted to go to class, wait the week out, and find out who the champions would be. Ara had always been a patient person, finding that characteristic essential in his studies, but something told him that this week would test his limits.

After the mail came, and no packages were delivered to him, he took a small bowl of fruit. That’d be enough until lunch. If he was going to join the tournament, he would have to change his diet. Ara would have to work out in more than just his magical skills. If he had learned anything by studying the last tournaments it was that the champions were also tested physically. Not many noted that.

Ara, after all the shenanigans finished, waved at them in farewell before finally leaving to the dungeons with Iris. Cora returned his wave with stifled enthusiasm, while Henri and Geoff mockingly did so. He’d see them during lunch, and perhaps then he’d be in more playful spirits. The lack of Quidditch to look forward to was making him look dull – even if the truth was far from it.

“Whoa,” said Ara in response to the news about the other schools in the dueling club. That’d be interesting to say the least. He was sure that the students from the other schools knew different spells, curses and strategies. Why would their Heads allow them to participate if it meant divulging some of their signature magic? ‘Oh, right. That strategy goes both ways…’ Ara thought to himself.

“Did you talk to McGonagall about it?”

When Iris confirmed that she had, he smiled. McGonagall was by far his favorite staff member in the castle. He never broke the rules or did anything out of step, so he didn’t fear her.  Ara respected her way of enforcing the rules, and of treating her guests. He wouldn’t be surprised if McGonagall allowed the other schools to join to learn from them herself. If she had anything left to still learn, that is. 

“Well I can see the advantages in that,” he spoke regarding the tournament, but he didn’t verbally say it. “I feel like Rosier is going to go in a little overconfident about it all. Veteran duelists are sure to have an upper hand in the club. I hear he’s still got good instincts about magic. Who knows?” He wouldn't underestimate Rosier like the others. He was a prefect after all.

They arrived at the dungeons soon after that. The classroom door was open, and Rosier was already there. When he waved Iris to join him, she ignored him. He muffled a chortle at the sight of that, taking his place by a nearby desk. He looked around for Professor Flagg when he asked himself whether the first class would be theory or practice. He had heard that most NEWT classes drifted from the theory and tested them more intensely through practice.

He took a good look around, noting all the students that were present. The class was really small, only a handful of students had made the cut, apparently. It looked like only one other Gryffindor had gotten in. He was disappointed, for he had counted at least three Slytherins. Why couldn’t they have taught Alchemy, then? Surely demand couldn’t be an issue, since they taught Dark Arts with less than ten students.

When the Professor came in, Ara made a mental note to ask McGonagall about Alchemy, fetching his wand and his book at the start of class. H exchanged a look and a smile with Iris. This is something else he had been waiting for.


Krystal Itzume

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Re: A Tournament’s Revival [Closed]
« Reply #29 on: September 22, 2013, 07:31:44 pm »
‘I’m hoping he does enter in overconfident.’ Darius demanded that she be his partner for the dueling club. Iris was looking forward to it more than she’d admit. He already looked annoyed by her ignoring him.

Her mind was ahead to the club as Flagg began his spiel.
“Some of what I say will cross over into the Defense Against the Dark Arts class that I know many of you are in,” he said. “For here I will be teaching you to cast powerful hexes and curses, including the Unforgiveable curses, legilimency, unbreakable vows—and how to break them,” a brief, wicked grin, “and other physically harmful and mentally invasive spells. These spells are not for the faint of heart, and very few of them will you be allowed to use on humans.” He eyed Darius at that, who crossed his arms over his chest. “I will also be instructing a little on some of the magical creatures that you may encounter, and may find defensive spells to do you little good—dragons, for instance, and tebos.”

“Tebos?” Darius sounded unamused with that idea.

“Yes, Darius, I suspect you’d have difficulties if you tried a simple stunning spell on such a creature. Their hides are sought to make shields,” Ruden reminded. “If I am able, I plan to acquire some of the dark and dangerous creatures so that you can be introduced to them, and know how to deal with them when defense won’t work. In the Defense course, you will be introduced to Dementors, Levifolds, and other such things. Here, you shall be introduced to creatures where defense spells are not an option. If you are taking both, I promise you will be able to survive a camping trip in the Forbidden Forest.” The idea seemed to amuse him, as well as spark an idea. He didn’t say it aloud. He’d have to ask McGonagall permission, but it might be something he did with his 7th year class. He knew that this year would not be good for that, though. Preparations for the tournament were already underway there.

“So, let’s begin with something exciting.”
He took a cage that had been hidden behind the counter at the front of the room and set it on top. Inside were various pygmy puffs, eliciting an ‘aww’ from someone. “Yes, they are adorable, aren’t they? All the better for our purposes. You see, the Unforgivable Curses require a strong desire to violate—mentally, physically, or both. You are stealing from a person when you use these spells.”

The cage door was open,
“I hope none of you have ever had the displeasure of witnessing these spells before.” A pink pygmy puff was removed. “The Imperius Curse violates a person’s freedom to act. You gain complete control.” He pointed the wand at the puff, which was looking anxiously around the class. “Imperio.”

The creature seemed to relax,
“One under the affects of the Imperius Curse feels at ease. They are relaxed, freed of all responsibilities. The feeling is pleasant,” he spoke from experience, as the puff walked to the edge of the counter. Without hesitance, it jumped from the counter to the desk, and began to hop around like a lunatic, breaking a glass cup in its bouncing and cutting itself open.

A wave of the wand dismissed the spell, though no word was spoken. The puff began to cry out as it realized it was injured. Ruden did not attend to it.
“Range is no issue. You do not need to keep the wand pointed at a victim. You do not need to speak your orders. Your will becomes the will of the one under your control, and they will act under your control until the spell is removed, or until they are able to resist it. It is possible to resist the spell, and as you see,” a motion to the puff, "You may want to resist it. It can be used to cause suicide, and it is quite good at evoking confessions.”

“The Cruciatus Curse is the next, a physical violation of a person. It is torture, plain and simple, and has driven people mad. There is no resisting it once it has been cast,”
the purple puff was escorted from the cage. “The renowned Harry Potter found this spell difficult to cast because it truly requires a malicious desire to cause pain. Righteous anger won’t work—there is nothing righteous about this spell.” Again, the casting was simple. He merely pointed his wand at the creature, “Crucio.”

Squeals of agony erupted. The ball of fur rolled around on the counter, writhing in the pain. The other two puffs answered its cries, but were helpless to assist. It eventually rolled off the table, and Ruden lifted his wand.

The cries were silenced. The creature shivered on the ground, but didn’t try to crawl away from where it landed. The Slytherin who had ‘aww’ed finally rose.
“This is wrong!”

“Yes!”
Ruden agreed, an intensity in his eyes as he met the eyes of the girl. “Yes, it is. That is the point I want to drive home. These spells are called Unforgiveable for a reason, my dear students—although McGonagall can admit that at times they can be…forgiven. She has used the Imperius curse to great effect.” Some looks were exchanged. It was not something the students expected to hear. Slowly, the Slytherin sat down. “When this term is done, I will expect all of you to be able to cast these two spells upon human targets. Obviously, I will not ask you to test the final one on humans.”

The poor, final puff, a brilliant crimson, was taken from the cage.
“The final one is the killing curse. There are several spells that can kill a wizard, but only one is made specifically for that purpose. It steals life in one blow. This spell can be dodged, but there is no barrier that can block it—save a wall, or a physical one. Accio statue might work, but I don’t recommend it,” he looked into the eyes of his students, letting his gaze shift between them, letting that sink in. “Do not try to block this spell. Move, or shoot another curse. It is possible to lock wands with an opponent and keep the spell at bay—though you will want to win such a deadlock,” he said.

“This spell requires a single-minded desire to kill, and nothing else. Not harm. Not revenge. Simply, to kill.”
He looked down at the puff, moved his hand in something of an ‘s’ shape, “Avada Kedavra.”

Unlike the others, this one had a physical component. A green light shot from the wand, and a noise like a miniature tornado escaped from the wand and followed that light as it passed through the puff, before extinguishing.

The pygmy puff was limp, dead. No injuries, just dead.
“It kills by ripping the soul out of a person,” Ruden spoke to the silence.

Even Darius, for once, had nothing to say about the display, though earlier he had considered berating the practice on animals since humans were more difficult to harm with any of the three curses.