Even if there had been a baby boom after the First Wizarding War, there hadn't been many people left to produce said babies, so the Sorting Ceremony still went by fairly quickly. As per usual, the Sorting Hat had composed a brand-new sorting song for this new batch of first years. As always, its themes revolved around the qualities of each of the four Houses' founders. It must have been given a few key words to recite, Oleandra thought to herself. As long as the key words were included, it just needed to place rhymes around them, and voila: a new artificially generated song every year.
"There's an empty seat at the professors' table," Daphne murmured in Oleandra's ear while they watched the Sorting Ceremony. "Defence Against the Dark Arts."
"Maybe it's Professor Snape this year," Oleandra whispered back. "Maybe the jinx on the job doesn't work if you moonlight as the DADA teacher, but your main occupation is Potions teacher?"
"How on earth would the curse know the difference?" Daphne snorted.
"Baddock, Malcolm!" Professor McGonagall shouted.
"SLYTHERIN!" the Sorting Hat shouted back.
Oleandra absent-mindedly started clapping in the middle of her conversation with her sister, seeing as all the other Slytherins were clapping.
"Whoever the new teacher is," Oleandra said, "I hope they have something more substantial to teach us. Don't get me wrong, I thought Professor Lupin was a great teacher, but it's not like we had any trouble fighting off the likes of Red Caps even before he started his first class."
"Still, it was useful learning about Boggarts," said Daphne, "Except we won't always be on guard for them unless we know exactly what we're afraid of the most."
A few first years later, the Sorting Ceremony ended without incident. Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet and said, "I have only two words to say to you: Tuck in!"
"About time," said Tracey, reaching for some roast goose to pile onto her plate.
Feasts didn't happen every day, so the girls ate heartily. Besides, they needed to build up some strength for the Triwizard Tournament! By the end of supper, Oleandra was completely and utterly stuffed, though that didn't stop her from getting some dessert; everyone knew that dessert didn't occupy any volume in the stomach. Oleandra had some strawberry mascarpone mousse, while Daphne had some lime pudding.
When every dessert spoon had been licked clean and every slice of cake devoured, Professor Dumbledore clapped his hands, which made any remaining bits of food Vanish, leaving the plates and cutlery clean as a whistle.
"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices."
"This is it," said Daphne. "He's going to announce we're hosting the Triwizard Tournament."
"Come on, get to the good part!" tittered Oleandra excitedly as Dumbledore kept. "Who cares about the list of forbidden objects and not being allowed in the Forbidden Forest; if rules actually meant anything, then Fred and George would have faced expulsion in their first year!"
"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year," said Dumbledore, who was pretending to be saddened to be the carrier of bad news. "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy— but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts—"
Nothing good ever happened in October, especially at Halloween… the troll attack, the first victim of the Basilisk, forging Harry's aunt's signature, which had ended up landing both Oleandra and Harry in detention…
As if to drive the point home, the double doors that led out of the Great Hall suddenly slammed inwards with a loud crash. At the same time, a particularly bright lightning bolt arced across the Great Hall's enchanted ceiling, which emulated the weather outside. It had been raining when Oleandra had arrived, but now it seemed the rain had degenerated into a full-blown thunderstorm.
A person was standing in the entrance; Oleandra drew in a sharp breath when the lightning illuminated the newcomer's face: it was Alastor Moody, ex-Auror extraordinaire, and Tonks's Auror mentor!
"Why did it have to be him, of all people!" Oleandra moaned. Two summers ago, the man had tried to stun her at St Mungo's for visiting her hospitalized Muggle friend, and last summer, he had broken a few of her ribs when she'd helped Lupin escape Hogwarts. She'd been disguised as Sirius at the time, but who knew if he'd be able to piece the truth back together?
The man walked up to the teachers' table, his peg leg producing a dull thunk every other step. Oleandra tried to maintain a neutral expression as he walked past her level, his electric-blue magical prosthetic eyeball rotating wildly in its socket. There was nothing quite like Mad-Eye's eye; it could even see through Harry's Invisibility Cloak, something even Oleandra couldn't do with her own Mystic Eyes.
After an interminable walk, Moody, or rather, Professor Moody, as Oleandra suspected she was going to have to call him, finally reached Dumbledore, and they exchanged a handshake and a whispered conversation. He sat down at Dumbledore's side, and the headmaster resumed his speech.
"May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore. "Professor Moody."
Well, that confirmed it. Oleandra would need to walk on tiptoes around the Auror this year, until the curse on his job could finish its course and she could be rid of him.
Dumbledore cleared his throat.
"As I was saying," he said, "we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."
And there it was.