"Thank Merlin. The sorting is over. I'm not sure how much longer my poor old stomach would last," Dumbledore said as he stood up. "I have some very important announcements to make, but they can wait. I think it is about time you were all fed and watered. Dig in."
Dumbledore sat down, and food started appearing on the table. There was roast beef with golden-brown Yorkshire puddings, surrounded by a sea of roast potatoes, gravy, and vegetables. Bangers, mash, fish and chips, and shepherd's pie were also on offer, along with a platter of cheese and crackers and a selection of cured meats and pickles for starters. In the middle, there were desserts. The students were treated to a lavish spread of sticky toffee pudding, trifle, and fruitcake, served with a selection of teas and coffees and pumpkin juice.
"Jessica, I'll take the first years to the common room, if that's okay?" I asked.
"Yeah, sure. Thank you," Jessica said before she started plating up.
"Remind me to give them their bracelets," I said.
"You hand them out to the first years, and I'll do the rest," Jessica said. "And enough talking about prefect duty; I'm famished."
We spent the next forty minutes eating and chatting with the younger students before Dumbledore stood up again.
"Eh, em, could I have all your attention? Thank you. Mrs. Norris, our new caretaker, has informed me that the list of objects forbidden within the castle now includes Screaming Yo-Yo, Fanged Frisbees, Ever-Bashing Boomerangs, and Chocolate Marshmallow Bunnies," Dumbledore said with a mischievous beat. "I'm joking about that last one. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items that may be viewed in Mrs. Norris's office."
"Now. There is, apparently, a rather nasty rumour flying around about the school that Quidditch will not be played this year. That rumour, I'm here to tell you, is absolutely true." Indignation fills the Great Hall as Dumbledore smiles in amusement. "There is an explanation. You see, I was not meant to tell you about this until the end of this month. However, given the sombre mood and events outside our control, I have decided to impart some good news to you all. Hogwarts will this year play host to a legendary event that has not taken place in over one hundred years: the Triwizard Tournament."
Excitement shook the hall, but one voice rang clear. Fred Weasley exclaimed, "You're joking!"
"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley. For those of you who do not know, the Triwizard Tournament was originally conceived some seven centuries ago as a way for the three largest European wizarding schools to engage in a series of magical contests while their respective student bodies experienced the benefits of cross-cultural, social intercourse." A crackling, albeit bewildered, silence hung in the air, and Dumbledore continued. "In other words, one got to spend an entire year getting to know people who spoke a funny language. Unfortunately, due to the distressing high death toll, the tournament was cancelled... until now. On Friday, November 14, delegations from the Beaxbatons Academy of Magical Arts and the Durmstrang School of Wizardry will journey to Hogwarts. This year, our home will be their home. I ask only that you endeavour to make it a happy one."
"Everybody pick your favourite tune, and off we go."
'Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts...
Teach us something, please.
AHHHHHHH!'
As the Great Hall buzzed with joy, the atmosphere shifted abruptly as a sudden bolt of lightning illuminated the sky outside, followed by a deafening clap of thunder that seemed to shake the very foundations of Hogwarts Castle. The students gasped in awe and trepidation, their eyes wide with fear and excitement as the storm raged on.
Amidst the chaos of the storm, the massive oak doors at the far end of the hall swung open with a resounding creak, revealing the figure of Alastor Moody. He stood at the entrance for a few moments, his silhouette outlined against the backdrop of the raging storm, his magical eye whirring and clicking as it scanned the room.
With each subsequent flash of lightning, the shadows danced eerily across the stone walls, casting flickering shapes that seemed to move with a life of their own. Moody remained unmoved, his expression stoic and impassive as he slowly began to make his way towards the head table.
As Moody approached, the students watched in silence, their eyes fixed on the enigmatic figure before them. Professor McGonagall stepped forward to greet him, her voice barely audible over the din of the storm.
Moody nodded curtly in acknowledgment before turning his attention to Dumbledore, who sat at the head table with a knowing twinkle in his eye.
"Dumbledore," Moody said, his voice gruff and authoritative. "Good to see you again."
Dumbledore smiled warmly in response. "And you, Alastor. Allow me to introduce you to the students of Hogwarts. Students of Hogwarts, I think this is the perfect time to mention a few personnel changes from last year. Professor Lupin unfortunately had to depart and could no longer teach, so I would proudly like to introduce to you your new DADA professor, Alastor Moody."
With a nod from Dumbledore, Moody took his place at the head table, his presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room. He settled into his seat with a heavy sigh, his gaze sweeping over the gathered students with a mixture of scrutiny and curiosity.
"For our next personnel change, Mrs. Norris will now be our full-time caretaker. Please do not cause her too much trouble. And our final personnel change: Professor Bins will be replaced by this fine gentleman here. Please give it up for Professor Theon Dewsbury-Hall." There was a large cheer that resounded in the hall. "Last year, we saw two additional professors hired for each of the five main subjects. I am happy to say that we have retained their employment. And now, let's go again. Everybody pick your favourite tune, and off we go."
'Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts...
Teach us something, please.
Whether we are old or bald,
Or young, with scabby knees,
Our heads could do with filling,
With some interesting stuff,
For now, they're bare and full of air.
Dead flies and bits of fluff,
So teach us things worth knowing.
Bring back what we've forgotten.
Just do your best; we'll do the rest.
And learn until our brains all rot.'
Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand, and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.
"Ahh. magic to my ears. Prefects, could I ask that you guide the first years to their respective commons rooms, and for the rest of you, off to bed? We have a long one-day week ahead of us."