( AN: a few hours ago, I mistakenly uploaded a non-edited Ch. 17 :( Sorry about that, and I hope you enjoy today's chapter, have a nice day everyone)
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The Great Hall of Hogwarts was a spectacle of magic and grandeur, its enchanted ceiling reflecting the twilight hues of the evening sky. The students, seated at their respective house tables, were buzzing with anticipation. The Triwizard Tournament, a legendary event that had been dormant for centuries, was about to be revived. The air was thick with excitement, curiosity, and a hint of apprehension.
Barty Crouch, a high-ranking official from the Ministry of Magic, rose to his feet. His stern face was set in a grim line, his eyes scanning the sea of young faces before him. He cleared his throat, and the hall fell silent, every pair of eyes fixed on him.
"After meticulous deliberation and with the students' safety in mind," he began, his voice echoing through the hall, "the Ministry of Magic has decreed that students under the age of seventeen are ineligible to participate in the Triwizard Tournament."
The silence that followed was deafening. It was as if the air had been sucked out of the room. Then, like a dam bursting, the Great Hall erupted into a cacophony of dissent. The under-seventeens, who made up the majority of the student body, were voicing their discontent.
"This is preposterous!" shouted a fifth-year Gryffindor, his face flushed with indignation.
"Such nonsense, utter nonsense!" a Ravenclaw echoed, her usually calm demeanor replaced with disbelief.
The Slytherin table was a sea of scowls and sneers, while the Hufflepuffs looked particularly crestfallen. The older students, however, seemed to be torn between relief and disappointment.
The most vociferous among them were the garrulous Weasley twins, George and Fred. Their faces were a mirror image of outrage and disappointment. They had been looking forward to the Tournament, their dreams of glory and adventure now dashed.
Anticipating the emotional tumult, Mr. Crouch smirked and descended from the stage. His job was done, and he left the handling of the students to the capable hands of the Hogwarts staff.
Dumbledore then stepped forward, his tall figure commanding attention. "Silence!" he called out, his voice amplified by a charm. The Great Hall fell silent, the students awed by his authoritative presence.
"It appears that this regulation has not been well received!" Dumbledore said, his voice filled with understanding. He waved his wand, and the golden pillar beside him disintegrated, revealing a sacred chalice to all present.
The Goblet of Fire!
Jon, seated among the teachers, studied the Holy Grail. His mind was already formulating a plan. He was to impersonate Moody, infiltrate Hogwarts, and surreptitiously enter Harry Potter's name into the Goblet of Fire. This would qualify Harry, who was not yet seventeen, to participate in the Tournament.
His plan didn't stop there. He would manipulate the Champions Cup of the Triwizard Tournament, ensuring that upon Harry's completion of the final task, he would be transported to the Riddle family cemetery. There, he would fall into Wormtail's clutches, who would use Harry's blood to facilitate Voldemort's resurrection.
Jon remembered that post-resurrection, Voldemort would summon all uncaptured Death Eaters to Azkaban. Thus, Jon intended to cunningly follow Barty Jr.'s original plan, resurrect Voldemort, and then, once Voldemort had gathered all the Death Eaters, he would strike, eliminating them all.
As the blue flame ignited within the Goblet of Fire, Dumbledore cast a glance at the Goblet and addressed the students: "The Goblet of Fire! Those wishing to participate in the Triwizard Tournament need only inscribe their names on a piece of parchment and cast it into the flames before Thursday night. I urge you to consider your decision carefully. Once chosen, there is no retracting your commitment. The Triwizard Tournament begins now!"
No sooner had Dumbledore concluded his announcement than Jon heard a system prompt in his mind:
[Side mission activated: Assist Harry Potter in winning the Triwizard Tournament. Completion of the mission will result in 800 penalty points. Current progress: (0/1)]
***
Exiting the auditorium, Jon found himself in the company of the vice-principal, Professor Minerva McGonagall, for his registration. An unexpected incident occurred during the process. Jon's pet, a Niffler, made an impromptu appearance, scampering out of his pocket.
"Is that a Niffler?" Professor McGonagall inquired, her eyebrows arching in surprise.
Jon, attempting to mimic the mannerisms of Moody, awkwardly bent down, set aside his crutches, and adjusted his prosthetic leg. He couldn't help but internally curse Barty Jr. for his choice of disguise.
"Indeed, it is," Jon confirmed, swiftly scooping up the Niffler and returning it to his pocket. "Stay put, buddy. I'll feed you later," he whispered to the creature.
Professor McGonagall's brow furrowed. "As far as I recall, Mr. Moody, you've never been fond of pets, deeming them messy and bothersome."
Jon's heart fluttered. Neither the movie nor Barty Jr.'s memories had hinted at Moody's aversion to pets. Nevertheless, he managed a smile. "True, Professor McGonagall. They can be quite a nuisance. But in my retirement, I've found the need for some distraction."
Professor McGonagall seemed to accept this, nodding in understanding. "I see, Mr. Moody. Have you ever considered a cat? I happen to have a few."
Jon quickly dismissed the suggestion. "Oh, no, Professor McGonagall. I'm not fond of creatures that shed. The Niffler is more than enough for me."
Professor McGonagall chuckled. "Indeed, Nifflers are quite popular among magical creatures. They're known for their knack for collecting precious metals and their low maintenance. Although, they can be a handful."
As she spoke, she continued to sort through documents. After a moment, she addressed Jon again. "All set, Mr. Moody. You must be exhausted from your journey. You may retire to the teachers' dormitory."
"Thank you, Professor McGonagall," Jon replied, struggling to his feet with her assistance.
"Good luck, Professor Moody," she called after him, causing Jon to pause in confusion.
"Professor Moody," she clarified, seeing his puzzled expression. "The Defense Against the Dark Arts course you're teaching has a history of high turnover. And Professor Snape has been eyeing the position. Just a heads up."
Jon nodded in understanding. "Thank you for the warning, Professor McGonagall."
With that, he limped out of the office, feeling somewhat awkward about the formalities with the elderly witch. He made his way back to his room, appreciating the privacy and security of the teachers' accommodations at Hogwarts.
The solitude allowed him to drop the guise of Moody, a relief after maintaining the persona for so long. He checked his mental task panel, noting the updated progress.
[Side task: Explore Hogwarts, the current progress is 12/100]
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