Olympe Maxime

So I recently (2 minutes ago) discovered that Olympe Maxime's title "Madame" is written with an 'e' at the end.

Also, after reading the ENTIRE SERIES, I discovered how 'Prefect' is written, and the whole time I thought it was 'Perfect'.

Yeah I know I'm really blind...

But has this happened to anyone else before?

Surely I cant be the only one, right? Right?

So, Madame Olympe Maxime.

I think she’s married. Here’s why:

She’s French, and ‘Madame’ means married. ‘Mademoiselle’ means unmarried.

This means that Madame Maxime may have been married, but to whom?

I also did look at her page on the wiki, and it suggested that she may have been married too. It went on to say that ‘Madame’ also means someone older than you, above you, or someone that commands respect. It then compared her to Madam Pomfrey that this may be the case and that Madame Maxime was never married. But, Madam Pomfrey doesn’t have an ‘e’ after her madam/madame. I then found out that ‘Madam’ denotes authority, and is mostly common in America, so is Madam Pomfrey American? That’s another theory, but I’m not talking about it. I found very few resources that said ‘Madame’ can be used for unmarried woman. Even though I believe it can be, I think it more likely that Madame Maxime may have been married, so I looked into that.

I found nothing that hinted Madame Maxime was ever married, so it may have been an accident on JKR’s part. But maybe Madame Maxime and Hagrid never married BECAUSE Madame Maxime was already married.

I think Madame Maxime is married, but how did JKR miss that she put madame? Surely when she wrote GoF ‘madame’ still meant a married woman? Did JKR know what she did and decided that Madame Maxime could have a husband, but it would be hidden from public?

Tell me your thoughts!

Previous Chapters:

Chapter 1: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003585181

Chapter 2: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003585386

Chapter 3: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003589099

Chapter 4: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003589999

Chapter 5: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003590737

Chapter 6: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003592048

Chapter 7: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003593450

Chapter 8: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003594715

Chapter 9: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003595876

Chapter 10: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003596713

Chapter 11: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003597502

Chapter 12: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003598647

Chapter 13: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003600597

Chapter 14: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003602821

Tags: @MeowTasticCat @Bellatrisblack @Diantha Angelina Black @CatsAndRoblox @Kakaonut

(The first half is pretty similar to canon as what happens has nothing to do with Harry being in Slytherin, but just know the second half is very different.)

Chapter Fifteen: The Four Champions

Harry sat there, aware that every head in the Great Hall had turned to look at him. He was stunned. He felt numb. He was surely dreaming. He had not heard correctly.

There was no applause. A buzzing, as though of angry bees, was starting to fill the Hall; some students were standing up to get a better look at Harry as he sat, frozen, in his seat.

Up at the top table, Professor McGonagall had got to her feet and swept past Ludo Bagman and Professor Karkaroff to whisper urgently to Professor Dumbledore, who bent his ear toward her, frowning slightly. Professor Snape had also risen, his face was originally of shock, but quickly changed to fury.

Harry turned to look at his friends; beyond them, he saw the long Slytherin table all watching him, openmouthed.

‘I didn’t put my name in,’ Harry said blankly. ‘You know I didn’t.’

But all four of them just stared as blankly back.

At the top table, Professor Dumbledore had straightened up, nodding to Professor McGonagall.

‘Harry Potter!’ he called again. ‘Harry! Up here, if you please!’

‘You have to go, go now,’ Tracey whispered, giving Harry a slight push. Harry got to his feet, trod on the hem of his robes, and stumbled slightly. He set off up the gap between the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables. It felt like an immensely long walk; the top table didn’t seem to be getting any nearer at all, and he could feel over three hundred eyes upon him, as though each were a searchlight. The buzzing grew louder and louder. After what seemed like an hour, he was right in front of Dumbledore, feeling the stares of all the teachers upon him.

‘Well...through the door, Harry,’ said Dumbledore. He wasn’t smiling.

Harry moved off along the teachers’ table. Hagrid was seated right at the end. He did not wink at Harry, or wave, or give any of his usual signs of greeting. He looked completely astonished and stared at Harry as he passed, seemingly contemplating something. Harry went through the door out of the Great Hall and found himself in a smaller room, lined with paintings of witches and wizards. A handsome fire was roaring in the fireplace opposite him.

The faces in the portraits turned to look at him as he entered. He saw a wizened witch flit out of the frame of her picture and into the one next to it, which contained a wizard with a walrus moustache. The wizened witch started whispering in his ear.

Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory, and Fleur Delacour were grouped around the fire. They looked strangely impressive, silhouetted against the flames. Krum, hunched-up and brooding, was leaning against the mantelpiece, slightly apart from the other two. Cedric was standing with his hands behind his back, staring into the fire. Fleur Delacour looked around when Harry walked in and threw back her sheet of long, silvery hair.

‘What is it?’ she said. ‘Do zey want us back in ze Hall?’

She thought he had come to deliver a message. Harry didn’t know how to explain what had just happened. He just stood there, looking at the three champions. It struck him how very tall all of them were.

There was a sound of scurrying feet behind him, and Ludo Bagman entered the room. He took Harry by the arm and led him forward.

‘Extraordinary!’ he muttered, squeezing Harry’s arm. ‘Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen...lady,’ he added, approaching the fire-side and addressing the other three. ‘May I introduce—incredible though it may seem—the fourth Triwizard champion?’

Viktor Krum straightened up. His surly face darkened as he surveyed Harry. Cedric looked nonplussed. He looked from Bagman to Harry and back again as though sure he must have misheard what Bagman had said. Fleur Delacour, however, tossed her hair, smiling, and said, ‘Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman.’

‘Joke?’ Bagman repeated, bewildered. ‘No, no, not at all! Harry’s name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!’

Krum’s thick eyebrows contracted slightly. Cedric was still looking politely bewildered. Fleur frowned.

‘But evidently zair ’as been a mistake,’ she said contemptuously to Bagman. ‘’E cannot compete. ’E is too young.’

‘Well...it is amazing,’ said Bagman, rubbing his smooth chin and smiling down at Harry. ‘But, as you know, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as his name’s come out of the goblet...I mean, I don’t think there can be any ducking out at this stage...It’s down in the rules, you’re obliged...Harry will just have to do the best he—‘

The door behind them opened again, and a large group of people came in: Professor Dumbledore, followed closely by Mr Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape. Harry heard the buzzing of the hundreds of students on the other side of the wall, before Professor McGonagall closed the door.

‘Madame Maxime!’ said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. ‘Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!’

Somewhere under Harry’s numb disbelief he felt a ripple of anger. Little boy?

Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full, and considerable, height. The top of her handsome head brushed the candle-filled chandelier, and her gigantic black-satin bosom swelled.

‘What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?’ she said imperiously.

‘I’d rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore,’ said Professor Karkaroff. He was wearing a steely smile, and his blue eyes were like chips of ice. ‘Two Hogwarts champions? I don’t remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions—or have I not read the rules carefully enough?’ He gave a short and nasty laugh.

‘C’est impossible,’ said Madame Maxime, whose enormous hand with its many superb opals was resting upon Fleur’s shoulder. ‘’Ogwarts cannot ’ave two champions. It is most injust.’

‘We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore,’ said Karkaroff, his steely smile still in place, though his eyes were colder than ever. ‘Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools.’

‘It’s no one’s fault but Potter’s, Karkaroff,’ said Snape softly. His black eyes were alight with malice. ‘Don’t go blaming Dumbledore for Potter’s determination to break rules and cause unbelievable amounts of chaos. He has been crossing lines ever since he was sorted into my proud—‘

‘Thank you, Severus,’ said Dumbledore firmly, and Snape went quiet, though his eyes still glinted malevolently through his curtain of greasy black hair.

Professor Dumbledore was now looking down at Harry, who looked right back at him, trying to discern the expression of the eyes behind the half-moon spectacles.

‘Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?’ he asked calmly.

‘No,’ said Harry. He was very aware of everybody watching him closely. Snape made a soft noise of impatient disbelief in the shadows.

‘Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?’ said Professor Dumbledore, ignoring Snape.

‘No,’ said Harry vehemently.

‘Ah, but of course ’e is lying!’ cried Madame Maxime. Snape was now shaking his head, his lip curling.

‘He could not have crossed the Age Line,’ said Professor McGonagall sharply. ‘I am sure we are all agreed on that—‘

‘Dumbly-dorr must ’ave made a mistake wiz ze line,’ said Madame Maxime, shrugging.

‘It is possible, of course,’ said Dumbledore politely.

‘Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!’ said Professor McGonagall angrily. ‘Really, what nonsense! Harry could not have crossed the line himself, and even if he had managed to convince an older student to put his name in for him that doesn’t explain what has happened, Potter or not a fourth champion has been chosen. No fourth year could pull that off. Dumbledore is not to blame.’

She shot a very angry look at Professor Snape.

‘Mr Crouch...Mr Bagman,’ said Karkaroff, his voice unctuous once more, ‘you are our—er—objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?’

Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief and looked at Mr Crouch, who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half hidden in shadow. He looked slightly eerie, the half darkness making him look much older, giving him an almost skull-like appearance. When he spoke, however, it was in his usual curt voice.

‘We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament.’

‘Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front,’ said Bagman, beaming and turning back to Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, as though the matter was now closed.

‘I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students,’ said Karkaroff. He had dropped his unctuous tone and his smile now. His face wore a very ugly look indeed. ‘You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions. It’s only fair, Dumbledore.’

‘But Karkaroff, it doesn’t work like that,’ said Bagman. ‘The Goblet of Fire’s just gone out—it won’t reignite until the start of the next tournament—‘

‘—in which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!’ exploded Karkaroff. ‘After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!’

‘Empty threat, Karkaroff,’ growled a voice from near the door. ‘You can’t leave your champion now. He’s got to compete. They’ve all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?’

Moody had just entered the room. He limped toward the fire, and with every right step he took, there was a loud clunk.

‘Convenient?’ said Karkaroff. ‘I’m afraid I don’t understand you, Moody.’

Harry could tell he was trying to sound disdainful, as though what Moody was saying was barely worth his notice, but his hands gave him away; they had balled themselves into fists.

‘Don’t you?’ said Moody quietly. ‘It’s very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter’s name in that goblet knowing he’d have to compete if it came out.’

‘Evidently, someone ’oo wished to give ’Ogwarts two bites at ze apple!’ said Madame Maxime.

‘I quite agree, Madame Maxime,’ said Karkaroff, bowing to her. ‘I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards—‘

‘If anyone’s got reason to complain, it’s Potter,’ growled Moody, ‘but...funny thing...I don’t hear him saying a word...’

‘Why should ’e complain?’ burst out Fleur Delacour, stamping her foot. ‘’E ’as ze chance to compete, ’asn’t ’e? We ’ave all been ’oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money—zis is a chance many would die for!’

‘Maybe someone’s hoping Potter is going to die for it,’ said Moody, with the merest trace of a growl.

An extremely tense silence followed these words. Ludo Bagman, who was looking very anxious indeed, bounced nervously up and down on his feet and said, ‘Moody, old man...what a thing to say!’

‘We all know Professor Moody considers the morning wasted if he hasn’t discovered six plots to murder him before lunchtime,’ said Karkaroff loudly. ‘Apparently he is now teaching his students to fear assassination too. An odd quality in a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Dumbledore, but no doubt you had your reasons.’

‘Imagining things, am I?’ growled Moody. ‘Seeing things, eh? It was a skilled witch or wizard who put the boy’s name in that goblet...’

‘As I suspected,’ said McGonagall.

‘Ah, what evidence is zere of zat?’ said Madame Maxime, throwing up her huge hands.

‘Because they hoodwinked a very powerful magical object!’ said Moody. ‘It would have needed an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to bamboozle that goblet into forgetting that only three schools compete in the tournament...I’m guessing they submitted Potter’s name under a fourth school, to make sure he was the only one in his category...’

‘You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Moody,’ said Karkaroff coldly, ‘and a very ingenious theory it is—though of course, I heard you recently got it into your head that one of your birthday presents contained a cunningly disguised basilisk egg, and smashed it to pieces before realizing it was a carriage clock. So you’ll understand if we don’t take you entirely seriously...’

‘There are those who’ll turn innocent occasions to their advantage,’ Moody retorted in a menacing voice. ‘It’s my job to think the way Dark wizards do, Karkaroff—as you ought to remember...’

‘Alastor!’ said Dumbledore warningly. Harry hardly ever heard Dumbledore raise his voice except when giving a speech. Harry knew Karkaroff was once a deatheater, likely caught by Moody’s hands, but Harry was now guessing that wasn’t common knowledge and that Dumbledore didn’t want the whole room knowing for some reason. Moody fell silent, though still surveying Karkaroff with satisfaction—Karkaroff’s face was burning.

‘How this situation arose, we do not know,’ said Dumbledore, speaking to everyone gathered in the room. ‘It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Cedric and Harry have been chosen to compete in the Tournament. This, therefore, they will do...’

‘Ah, but Dumbly-dorr—‘

‘My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, I would be delighted to hear it.’

Dumbledore waited, but Madame Maxime did not speak, she merely glared. She wasn’t the only one either. Snape looked furious; Karkaroff livid; Bagman, however, looked rather excited.

‘Well, shall we crack on, then?’ he said, rubbing his hands together and smiling around the room. ‘Got to give our champions their instructions, haven’t we? Barty, want to do the honors?’

Mr Crouch seemed to come out of a deep reverie.

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘instructions. Yes...the first task...’

He moved forward into the firelight. Close up, Harry thought he looked ill. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and a thin, papery look about his wrinkled skin that had not been there at the Quidditch World Cup.

‘The first task is designed to test your daring,’ he told Harry, Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor, ‘so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard...very important...

‘The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges. The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests.’

Mr Crouch turned to look at Dumbledore. ‘I think that’s all, is it, Albus?’

‘I think so,’ said Dumbledore, who was looking at Mr Crouch with mild concern. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty?’

‘No, Dumbledore, I must get back to the Ministry,’ said Mr. Crouch. ‘It is a very busy, very difficult time at the moment...I’ve left young Weatherby in charge...Very enthusiastic...a little overenthusiastic, if truth be told...’

‘You’ll come and have a drink before you go, at least?’ said Dumbledore.

‘Come on, Barty, I’m staying!’ said Bagman brightly. ‘It’s all happening at Hogwarts now, you know, much more exciting here than at the office!’

‘I think not, Ludo,’ said Crouch with a touch of his old impatience.

‘Professor Karkaroff—Madame Maxime—a nightcap?’ said Dumbledore.

But Madame Maxime had already put her arm around Fleur’s shoulders and was leading her swiftly out of the room. Harry could hear them both talking very fast in French as they went off into the Great Hall. Karkaroff beckoned to Krum, and they, too, exited, though in silence.

‘Harry, Cedric, I suggest you go off to bed,’ said Dumbledore, smiling at both of them. ‘I am sure Slytherin and Hufflepuff are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise.’

Harry glanced at Cedric, who nodded, and they left together. The Great Hall was deserted now; the candles had burned low, giving the jagged smiles of the pumpkins an eerie, flickering quality.

‘So,’ said Cedric, with a slight smile. ‘We’re playing against each other again!’

‘I s’pose,’ said Harry. He really couldn’t think of anything to say. The inside of his head seemed to be in complete disarray, as though his brain had been ransacked.

‘So...tell me...’ said Cedric as they reached the entrance hall, which was now lit only by torches in the absence of the Goblet of Fire. ‘How did you get your name in?’

‘I didn’t,’ said Harry, staring up at him. ‘I didn’t put it in. I was telling the truth.’

‘Ah...okay,’ said Cedric. Harry could tell Cedric didn’t believe him, Harry had seen that face many times before when a Slytherin tells the truth and no one believes them. ‘Well...see you, then.’

Harry had always assumed the Hufflepuff common room was upstairs, but instead of going up the marble staircase, Cedric headed for a door to his right. Harry stood listening to him going down the stone steps beyond it, he was about to head for his own downward steps when someone grabbed the collar of his neck.

‘Not so fast, Potter!’ said Snape’s snarling voice. His cold fury was unlike anything Harry had seen before. ‘You might have fooled Dumbledore but you haven’t fooled me. If you put a single toe out of line I’ll personally make sure that expulsion will be the least of your worries. I will be watching you carefully.’

He released Harry, shaken up all he could manage in response was a nod. Harry then half-ran towards the Dungeon staircase, then slowly he started to descend down the dark stone steps.

Was anyone except Tracey, Allison, Theodore, and Terence going to believe him, or would they all think he’d put himself in for the tournament? He knew his house would probably think he pulled off the greatest trick in Slytherin history. Yet how could anyone think that, when he was facing competitors who’d had three years’ more magical education than he had—when he was now facing tasks that not only sounded very dangerous, but which were to be performed in front of hundreds of people? Yes, he’d thought about it a couple times...he’d fantasized about it...but it had been a joke, really, an idle sort of dream...he’d never really, seriously considered entering...

But someone else had considered it...someone else had wanted him in the tournament, and had made sure he was entered. Why? To give him a treat? He didn’t think so, somehow...

To see him make a fool of himself? Well, they were likely to get their wish...

But to get him killed?

Was Moody just being his usual paranoid self? Couldn’t someone have put Harry’s name in the goblet as a trick, a practical joke? Did anyone really want him dead?

Harry was able to answer that at once. Yes, someone wanted him dead, someone had wanted him dead ever since he had been a year old...Lord Voldemort. But how could Voldemort have ensured that Harry’s name got into the Goblet of Fire? Voldemort was supposed to be far away, in some distant country, in hiding, alone...feeble and powerless...

Yet in that dream he had had, just before he had awoken with his scar hurting, Voldemort had not been alone...he had been talking to Wormtail...plotting Harry’s murder...

Harry got a shock to find himself facing the enchanted wall already. He had barely noticed where his feet were carrying him.

'Fóvos,' with the password spoken the wall ceased to be solid and Harry walked through it similarly to the Hogwarts Express platform.

The blast of noise that met Harry’s ears when he walked through almost knocked him backward. Next thing he knew, he was being wrenched inside the common room by about a dozen pairs of hands, and was facing the entirety of the Slytherin House, all of whom were screaming, applauding, and whistling.

'How did you manage to trick the Goblet?' yelled Cassius Warrington.

'I had no idea you were so duplicitous,' said Mafalda Prewett.

'This is probably the greatest act of cunning performed in our house since Salazar himself walked the halls,' Draco said smugly.

I didn’t enter,' Harry said. “I don’t know how—'

But Lucian had now swooped down upon him; 'I wish it were me, but I'm glad another fellow teammate is competing—'

'Yes, Slytherin is going to make history this year!' shouted Daphne.

Harry, if you are hungry we have some food—' offered Ella Wilkins.

'I’m not hungry, I had enough at the feast—'

But nobody wanted to hear that he wasn’t hungry; nobody wanted to hear that he hadn’t put his name in the goblet; not one single person seemed to have noticed that he wasn’t at all in the mood to celebrate...Niall Urquhart had unearthed a Slytherin banner from somewhere, and he was waving it all around the room chanting Harry's name. Harry couldn’t get away; whenever he tried to sidle over to the staircase up to the dormitories, the crowd around him closed ranks, forcing another butterbeer on him, stuffing crisps and peanuts into his hands...Everyone wanted to know how he had done it, how he had tricked Dumbledore’s Age Line and managed to get his name into the goblet...

'I didn’t,' he said, over and over again, 'I don’t know how it happened.'

But for all the notice anyone took, he might just as well not have answered at all.

'I’m tired!' he bellowed finally, after nearly half an hour. 'We have classes tomorrow—I’m going to bed—'

He wanted more than anything to find his friends, to find a bit of sanity, but none of them seemed to be in the common room, meaning he would likely not see the girls until morning. Insisting that he needed to sleep, and almost flattening the little Carrow twins as they attempted to waylay him at the foot of the stairs, Harry managed to shake everyone off and climb up to the dormitory as fast as he could.

To his great relief, he found Theodore was lying on his bed in the otherwise empty dormitory, waiting for him. He looked up when Harry slammed the door behind him.

'Where’ve you been?' Harry said.

'I couldn't stand the noise, sorry, but its what you deserve for lying.'

'Theo, I need to make myself clear right now, I didn't put my name into the Goblet of Fire. When would I have had the chance, you have been by my side almost every minute of the last few days.'

Theodore seemed to contemplate this for a moment, then took a sigh of relief, 'That is good to here, because I don't think I could share a dorm comprised solely of jerks.'

'Where were the others?' Harry asked.

'Terence is mad at you so he went to cool down, I think he'll come around in a day or two. Tracey went to stop Allison from doing something she'll regret.'

'What's wrong with Allison?'

'She is pissed Harry, she has desperately wanted to be champion for months and then she learns her best friend entered behind her back.'

'But I didn't enter!'

'She doesn't know that, nor do I think she'll believe you when you tell her. She was practically planning your murder when Tracey went after her. Its going to take more than time to calm her down and make her see the truth.'

They sat in silence for a while, Harry wasn't sure how he was going to get out of this situation. Theodore than broke the quiet.

'So, how did your name get put into the Goblet then if it wasn't you?'

'I don't have a bloody clue, Professor Moody thinks someone tricked the Goblet into thinking there are four champions, then put my name in with a false school. As brilliant as he is, I am not sure if he is right.'

After they talked for a little longer Theodore convinced Harry to use the two-way mirror to tell Sirius and Remus what had happened, but it was at that moment that the other boys started entering the dormitory. So instead he got out some paper and a quill and wrote a long letter explaining all tat had happened and asking for advice as he would desperately be needing it. He handed the letter off to Hedwig who left through the owl tunnels. Harry then laid down on his bed, trying to convince himself that everything since supper was just a bad dream, but something deep inside him was telling him that the nightmare had just begun.

Previous Chapters:

Chapter 1: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003585181

Chapter 2: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003585386

Chapter 3: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003589099

Chapter 4: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003589999

Chapter 5: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003590737

Chapter 6: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003592048

Chapter 7: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003593450

Chapter 8: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003594715

Chapter 9: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003595876

Chapter 10: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003596713

Chapter 11: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003597502

Chapter 12: https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003598647

Tags: @MeowTasticCat @Bellatrisblack @Diantha Angelina Black @CatsAndRoblox @Kakaonut

Chapter Thirteen: Beauxbatons and Durmstrang

By breakfast the following morning Harry was still feeling anxious. He really wished that force once he could have a normal school year not filled with dangers around every corner, he could only hope that his worry’s were without cause. Harry was so lost in his own thoughts that he wasn’t quite registering the movements of those around him, not until someone tapped him on his shoulder to get his attention.

‘Wha-? Oh, hey Colin.’

Colin Creevey was standing beside him with a wide smile on his face, looking quite chipper.

‘Morning Harry,’ he said happily. ‘Have you seen Theo today?’

Harry thought for a moment, he was positive Theodore had come down with them, but he had been so lost in thought that he had no idea where he was now. ‘Sorry Colin, not sure where Theodore went off to.’

The chipper smile of the third year diminished somewhat, he then tried to force it back to what it was. ‘Oh...I see.’

‘I’m sure he’ll be around, but you can sit with me if you’d like.’

Colin stayed standing for another moment, looking up and down the long tables, then sat next to Harry and helped himself to some scrambled eggs.

‘So how has your first week back been, Colin?’ Harry asked, grateful to have something take his mind off his worries.

‘It’s been really great. I chose Care of Magical Creatures as an elective, as well as Muggle Studies. I wanted to learn more about how the magical world interprets my parents world. I’ve also been showing Dennis all around.’

‘That is really great, I remember getting to show Canini around last year, it’s fun being the older sibling,’ Harry said while gently elbowing Colin, which got him to chuckle.

‘Yes, it is fun being the oldest. The classes are getting harder though. For Defense class we did some quick review on the creatures we learned about last year and are now going straight into defensive spells, and in Potions there was no review class and we jumped right into learning shrinking potions.’

‘Yeah, Snape really doesn’t believe in easing into the school year.’

‘What about Snape?’

Harry and Collin turned to Theodore approaching.

‘Oh, just that he is a hard-case and a bit unfair. Colin was looking for you.’

Colin smiled, a bit embarrassed, and if Harry wasn’t mistaken he swore Colin’s cheeks were a little pink.

‘Hi Colin, you look happy today. Mind if I sit then?’

‘Course not,’ Colin blurted. The three finished up eating and then headed to their classes.

Over the next couple weeks Harry’s worries subsided, although they never truly went away. He found that without Quidditch he had a lot of extra time on his hands and wasn’t quite sure how to fill it. One of the things he used to fill that time was deal with Canini’s bullies, he implied to them that they might not want to mess with her as Harry was known for making people disappear. The rest of the time though he found himself often quite bored. Just homework to fill the time.

However in class he did not find himself bored, their lessons were becoming more difficult and demanding than ever before, particularly Moody’s Defense Against the Dark Arts. To their surprise, Professor Moody had announced that he would be putting the Imperius Curse on each of them in turn, to demonstrate its power and to see whether they could resist its effects.

‘But—Professor, as you said it is illegal to use these spells on humans,’ said Tracey uncertainly as Moody cleared away the desks with a sweep of his wand, leaving a large clear space in the middle of the room. ‘What if the Ministry finds out, won’t you be in—‘

‘Dumbledore wants you taught what it feels like,’ said Moody, his magical eye swiveling onto Tracey and fixing her with an eerie, unblinking stare. ‘If you’d rather learn the hard way—when someone’s putting it on you so they can control you completely—fine by me. You’re excused. Off you go.’

He pointed one gnarled finger toward the door. Tracey shook her head, and embarrassed, walked back to the group. Tracey meant no offence, she just didn’t like seeing others get hurt.

Moody began to beckon students forward in turn and put the Imperius Curse upon them. Harry watched as, one by one, his classmates did the most extraordinary things under its influence. Dean Thomas hopped three times around the room, singing the national anthem. Millicent did a handstand while chirping like a bird. Neville performed a series of quite astonishing gymnastics he would certainly not have been capable of in his normal state. Not one of them seemed to be able to fight off the curse, and each of them recovered only when Moody had removed it.

‘Potter,’ Moody growled, ‘you next.’

Harry moved forward into the middle of the classroom, into the space that Moody had cleared of desks. Moody raised his wand, pointed it at Harry, and said, ‘Imperio!’

It was the most wonderful feeling. Harry felt a floating sensation as every thought and worry in his head was wiped gently away, leaving nothing but a vague, untraceable happiness. He stood there feeling immensely relaxed, only dimly aware of everyone watching him.

And then he heard Mad-Eye Moody’s voice, echoing in some distant chamber of his empty brain: Jump onto the desk...jump onto the desk...

Harry bent his knees obediently, preparing to spring. Jump onto the desk...

Why, though? Another voice had awoken in the back of his brain. Stupid thing to do, really, said the voice.

Jump onto the desk...

No, I don’t think I will, thanks, said the other voice, a little more firmly...no, I don’t really want to...

Jump! NOW!

The next thing Harry felt was considerable pain. He had both jumped and tried to prevent himself from jumping—the result was that he’d smashed headlong into the desk, knocking it over, and, by the feeling in his legs, fractured both his kneecaps.

‘Now, that’s more like it!’ growled Moody’s voice, and suddenly, Harry felt the empty, echoing feeling in his head disappear. He remembered exactly what was happening, and the pain in his knees seemed to double.

‘Look at that, you lot...Potter fought! He fought it, and he damn near beat it! We’ll try that again, Potter, and the rest of you, pay attention—watch his eyes, that’s where you see it—very good, Potter, very good indeed! They’ll have trouble controlling you!’

‘The way he talks,’ Harry muttered as he hobbled out of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class an hour later (Moody had insisted on putting Harry through his paces four times in a row, until Harry could throw off the curse entirely), ‘you’d think we were all going to be attacked any second.’

'You heard Remus and Sirius,' Theodore began, 'Our world is getting more dangerous again. I think Moody is taking it to far, but his logic is sound. We don't know what could happen tomorrow, or the day after that.'

'It is quite intense though,' said Tracey, 'hopefully he tones it down a little bit. I want to learn, but not get traumatized in the process.'

Moody did not tone down his lessons however, and as all the fourth years had noticed, the other teachers had increased there amount of work they were required to do as well. Professor McGonagall explained why, when the class gave a particularly loud groan at the amount of Transfiguration homework she had assigned.

'You are now entering a most important phase of your magical education!' she told them, her eyes glinting dangerously behind her square spectacles. 'Your Ordinary Wizarding Levels are drawing closer—'

'We aren't fifth years!' Malfoy shouted, 'are your glasses working?'

'Maybe not, Mr Malfoy, but believe me, you need all the preparation you can get! Miss Granger from the Gryffindor remains the only student in your year who has managed to turn a hedgehog into a satisfactory pincushion. I might remind you all that your pincushions still tend to run away when approached with a pin!'

'She's a Mudblood,' Harry heard Pansy whisper to Zabini, 'she grew up using those useless tools, of course she'd be more familiar with them.'

Harry glared at her for using such a filthy word, but since Professor McGonagall didn't hear anything there wasn't anything he could do.

Harry, Tracey, and Theodore were deeply amused when Professor Trelawney told them that they had received top marks for their homework in their next Divination class. She read out large portions of their predictions, commending them for their unflinching acceptance of the horrors in store for them—but they were less amused when she asked them to do the same thing for the month after next; both of them were running out of ideas for catastrophes.

Meanwhile Professor Binns had them writing weekly essays on the goblin rebellions of the eighteenth century. Professor Snape was forcing them to research antidotes. They took this one seriously, as he had hinted that he might be poisoning one of them before Christmas to see if their antidote worked. Professor Flitwick had asked them to read three extra books in preparation for their lesson on Summoning Charms.

Even Hagrid was adding to their workload. The Blast-Ended Skrewts were growing at a remarkable pace given that nobody had yet discovered what they ate. Hagrid was delighted, and as part of their “project,” suggested that they come down to his hut on alternate evenings to observe the Skrewts and make notes on their extraordinary behavior.

'I will not,' said Draco Malfoy flatly when Hagrid had proposed this with the air of Father Christmas pulling an extra-large toy out of his sack. 'I see enough of these foul things during lessons, thanks.'

Hagrid’s smile faded off his face.

'Yeh’ll do wha’ yer told,' he growled, 'or I’ll be takin’ a leaf outta Professor Moody’s book...I hear cowardly Slytherins make excellent ferrets.' Everyone but Malfoy laughed, however Malfoy turned a bit red, clearly not wanting to share in Pansy's fate. Harry, and his friends returned to the castle at the end of the lesson in high spirits; seeing Hagrid put down Malfoy was particularly satisfying, Malfoy may not be as bad as Pansy, but he was still quite a thorn in their sides.

When they arrived in the Entrance Hall, they found themselves unable to proceed owing to the large crowd of students congregated there, all milling around a large sign that had been erected at the foot of the marble staircase. None were tall enough to see over it so they tried waiting for the crowd to ease up a little, however Terence who is over a foot taller than them soon came down the stairs and he agreed to find out what was happening. He read the sign aloud to the other four:

'TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT

The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at six o’clock on Friday the twenty-eighth of October. Lessons will end half an hour early—'

'Brilliant!' said Harry. 'It’s Potions last thing on Friday! Snape won’t have time to poison us all!'

Terence continued:

'Students will return their bags and books to their dormitories and assemble in front of the castle to greet our guests before the Welcoming Feast.'

'Only a week away!' said Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff, emerging from the crowd, his eyes gleaming. 'I wonder if Cedric knows? Think I’ll go and tell him...'

'Cedric Diggory?' said Terence, 'He'll be competing?'

'I guess he must be entering the tournament,' Harry agreed.

Terence face was of mixed feelings, 'I still wish I could compete, but if I can't I am glad Cedric is. He might be on a rival team but I have to admit he is very skilled and very honorable.'

Harry nodded, he had been competing against Cedric in Quidditch for over three years, and Harry had to admit he was equally a good flyer, and nearly an equally good Seeker. And what Terence said was true, unlike the Gryffindor Seeker Kenneth Towler, Cedric played fair and didn't resort to using brought force to win. 'Yes, Cedric would probably make a good champion.'

The appearance of the sign in the entrance hall had a marked effect upon the inhabitants of the castle. During the following week, there seemed to be only one topic of conversation, no matter where Harry went: the Triwizard Tournament. Rumors were flying from student to student like highly contagious germs: who was going to try for Hogwarts champion, what the tournament would involve, how the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang differed from themselves.

Harry noticed too that the castle seemed to be undergoing an extra-thorough cleaning. Several grimy portraits had been scrubbed, much to the displeasure of their subjects, who sat huddled in their frames muttering darkly and wincing as they felt their raw pink faces. The suits of armor were suddenly gleaming and moving without squeaking, and Argus Filch, the caretaker, was behaving so ferociously to any students who forgot to wipe their shoes that he terrified a pair of first-year girls into hysterics.

Other members of the staff seemed oddly tense too. 'Runcorn, don't let Beauxbaton know you haven't mastered the Full Body-Bind yet, we can't let them see even the tiniest of flaws!' Professor Flitwick begged at the end of his last class before the schools arrive. Nearly every teacher had a similar message, show off what you have perfected but hide your struggles.

When they went down to breakfast on the morning of the twenty-eighth of October, they found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts House: red with a gold lion for Gryffindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teachers’ table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger, and snake united around a large letter H.

Harry, Theodore, Allison, and Tracey sat down beside Terence at the Slytherin table. He and Allison both shared a gloomy look despite everyone else being so excited.

'Are you too still in melancholy over being too young?' Theodore asked, some annoyance in his voice.

'Its just unfair,' Allison protested, 'the requirement to enter should be based on skill, not age.'

'And by the time the tournament comes around again we'll already have graduated,' Terence added on.

'Think of it this way,' suggested Harry, 'Dumbledore said the death toll was really high, with these rules you'll actually live to see graduation.'

'I guess,' said Terence, 'but I still think if I could figure out who chooses the champions I could convince them to give me a shot.'

'So you still haven't figured out who it is?' Tracey asked tentatively.

'No,' answered Allison. 'We have asked all around but the teachers all have tight lips when it comes to this. I almost wonder if they have charm on them.'

'What do you think the tasks will be?' Harry asked the group.

'I've read all about the Tournament,' Terence said proudly. 'Every five years the tasks are different, but they usually require a combination of skill and puzzle solving. They are rarely solved with just brute force. And whoever does it best gets the most points from the judges.'

'Who are the judges?' Harry asked.

'Not sure if there are more, but usually the Heads of the three schools are always on the panel,' said Terence, and everyone looked around at him. 'Seriously, none of you have read Twiwizard Tragedies? In the 1792 Tournament it mentioned those three judges getting hurt, although there probably would be more than just those three as they would be too biased to their own school.'

As the day continued there was a pleasant feeling of anticipation in the air. Nobody was very attentive in lessons, being much more interested in the arrival that evening of the people from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang; even Potions was more bearable than usual, as it was half an hour shorter. When the bell rang early, Harry, Tracey, Allison, and Theodore hurried up to Slytherin Dungeon, deposited their bags and books as they had been instructed, pulled on their cloaks, and rushed back upstairs into the entrance hall.

The Heads of Houses were ordering their students into lines.

'Potter, try and do something with that mop of a head of yours,' Professor Snape snapped. 'Miss Parkinson, take those of your ears.'

Pansy scowled and removed two large green crystal ear rings.

'We're leaving now,' said Professor Snape. 'First years in the front...Go single file.'

They filed down the steps and lined up in front of the castle. It was a cold, clear evening; dusk was falling and a pale, transparent-looking moon was already shining over the Forbidden Forest. Harry, standing between Tracey and Allison in the fourth row from the front, saw the Carrow twins positively shivering from both excitement and the cold among the other first years.

‘We’ve been waiting over an hour,’ Theodore quietly whined as the clock tower struck six o’clock. ‘Are they actually coming today?’

‘They should be, but maybe whatever mode of transportation they are using got delayed,’ Harry responded. ‘For such a big even they probably aren’t using simply a Portkey to Hogsmeade and walking the rest of the way. Allison, what do you know about Beauxbatons?’

‘Very little, it was my grandmother that had went, and my father hasn’t let me see her since I was born. Not even sure if she’s alive anymore. What about Durmstrang? Did Canini ever talk about how they got to the island you mentioned?’

‘She said they traveled by boat,’ Harry answered.

They scanned the darkening grounds excitedly, but nothing was

moving; everything was still, silent, and quite as usual. Harry was starting to feel cold. He wished they’d hurry up...Maybe the foreign students were preparing a dramatic entrance...He remembered what Mr Weasley had said back when they first arrived at the campsite before the Quidditch World Cup: ‘always the same—we can’t resist showing off when we get together...’

And then Dumbledore called out from the back row where he stood with the other teachers—

‘Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!’

‘Where?’ said many students eagerly, all looking in different directions.

‘There!’ yelled a sixth year, pointing over the forest.

Something large, much larger than a broomstick—or, indeed, a hundred broomsticks—was hurtling across the deep blue sky toward the castle, growing larger all the time.

‘It’s a dragon!’ shrieked the first year Scarlett Lympsham, losing her head completely.

‘Don’t be stupid...it’s a flying house!’ Harry heard Dennis Creevey call out from the Gryffindor line.

Dennis’s guess was closer...As the gigantic black shape skimmed over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest and the lights shining from the castle windows hit it, they saw a gigantic, powder-blue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring toward them, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant.

The front three rows of students drew backward as the carriage hurtled ever lower, coming in to land at a tremendous speed—then, with an almighty crash that made poor Neville jump backward onto a fifth year Slytherin named Jack Vaisey’s foot, the horses’ hooves, larger than dinner plates, hit the ground. A second later, the carriage landed too, bouncing upon its vast wheels, while the golden horses tossed their enormous heads and rolled large, fiery red eyes.

Harry just had time to see that the door of the carriage bore a coat of arms (two crossed, golden wands, each emitting three stars) before it opened.

A boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage, bent forward, fumbled for a moment with something on the carriage floor, and unfolded a set of golden steps. He sprang back respectfully. Then Harry saw a shining, high-heeled black shoe emerging from the inside of the carriage—a shoe the size of a child’s sled—followed, almost immediately, by the largest woman he had ever seen in his life. The size of the carriage, and of the horses, was immediately explained. A few people gasped.

Harry had only ever seen one person as large as this woman in his life, and that was Hagrid; he doubted whether there was an inch difference in their heights. Yet somehow—maybe simply because he was used to Hagrid—this woman (now at the foot of the steps, and looking around at the waiting, wide-eyed crowd) seemed even more unnaturally large. As she stepped into the light flooding from the entrance hall, she was revealed to have a handsome, olive-skinned face; large, black, liquid-looking eyes; and a rather beaky nose. Her hair was drawn back in a shining knob at the base of her neck. She was dressed from head to foot in black satin, and many magnificent opals gleamed at her throat and on her thick fingers.

Dumbledore started to clap; the students, following his lead, broke into applause too, many of them standing on tiptoe, the better to look at this woman.

Her face relaxed into a gracious smile and she walked forward toward Dumbledore, extending a glittering hand. Dumbledore, though tall himself, had barely to bend to kiss it.

‘My dear Madame Maxime,’ he said. ‘Welcome to Hogwarts.’

‘Dumbly-dorr,’ said Madame Maxime in a deep voice. ‘I ’ope I find you well?’

‘In excellent form, I thank you,’ said Dumbledore.

‘My pupils,’ said Madame Maxime, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her.

Harry, whose attention had been focused completely upon Madame Maxime, now noticed that about a dozen boys and girls, all, by the look of them, in their late teens, had emerged from the carriage and were now standing behind Madame Maxime. They were shivering, which was unsurprising, given that their robes seemed to be made of fine silk, and none of them were wearing cloaks. A few had wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads. From what Harry could see of them (they were standing in Madame Maxime’s enormous shadow), they were staring up at Hogwarts with apprehensive looks on their faces.

‘ ’As Karkaroff arrived yet?’ Madame Maxime asked.

‘He should be here any moment,’ said Dumbledore. ‘Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?’

‘Warm up, I think,’ said Madame Maxime. ‘But ze ’orses—‘

‘Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them,’ said Dumbledore, ‘the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other—er—charges.’

‘Must mean Skrewts,’ Tracey muttered to Harry, grinning.

‘My steeds require—er—forceful ’andling,’ said Madame Maxime, looking as though she doubted whether any Care of Magical Creatures teacher at Hogwarts could be up to the job. ‘Zey are very strong...’

‘I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job,’ said Dumbledore, smiling.

‘Very well,’ said Madame Maxime, bowing slightly. ‘Will you please inform zis ’Agrid zat ze ’orses drink only single-malt whiskey?’

‘It will be attended to,’ said Dumbledore, also bowing.

‘Come,’ said Madame Maxime imperiously to her students, and the Hogwarts crowd parted to allow her and her students to pass up the stone steps.

‘If Durmstrang is traveling by boat, I almost wonder if it’ll be bigger or smaller than that carriage,’ Terence whispered from behind them.

‘I wonder what has happened with the Skrewts that Hagrid had to miss this?’ Harry asked in a hashed voice.

‘I don’t know,’ said Tracey, ‘They’re starving and dangerous, anything is possible.’

They stood, shivering slightly now, waiting for the Durmstrang party to arrive. Most people were gazing hopefully up at the sky.

For a few minutes, the silence was broken only by Madame Maxime’s huge horses snorting and stamping. But then—

‘What is that sound?’ said Allison suddenly.

Harry listened; a loud and oddly eerie noise was drifting toward them from out of the darkness: a muffled rumbling and sucking sound, as though an immense vacuum cleaner were moving along a riverbed...

‘The lake!’ yelled the Gryffindor Lee Jordan, pointing down at it. ‘Look at the lake!’

From their position at the top of the lawns overlooking the grounds, they had a clear view of the smooth black surface of the water—except that the surface was suddenly not smooth at all. Some disturbance was taking place deep in the center; great bubbles were forming on the surface, waves were now washing over the muddy banks—and then, out in the very middle of the lake, a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had just been pulled out of the lake’s floor...

What seemed to be a long, black pole began to rise slowly out of the heart of the whirlpool...and then Harry saw the rigging...

‘I was right! It’s a ship!’ said Harry to the others. ‘Look at the mast.’

Slowly, magnificently, the ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. It had a strangely skeletal look about it, as though it were a resurrected wreck, and the dim, misty lights shimmering at its portholes looked like ghostly eyes. Finally, with a great sloshing noise, the ship emerged entirely, bobbing on the turbulent water, and began to glide toward the bank. A few moments later, they heard the splash of an anchor being thrown down in the shallows, and the thud of a plank being lowered onto the bank.

People were disembarking; they could see their silhouettes passing the lights in the ship’s portholes. All of them, Harry noticed, seemed to be built along the lines of Crabbe and Goyle...but then, as they drew nearer, walking up the lawns into the light streaming from the entrance hall, he saw that their bulk was really due to the fact that they were wearing cloaks of some kind of shaggy, matted fur. But the man who was leading them up to the castle was wearing furs of a different sort: sleek and silver, like his hair.

‘Dumbledore!’ he called heartily as he walked up the slope. ‘How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?’

‘Bloomingly, thank you, Professor Karkaroff,’ Dumbledore replied.

Karkaroff had a fruity, unctuous voice; when he stepped into the light pouring from the front doors of the castle they saw that he was tall and thin like Dumbledore, but his white hair was short, and his goatee (finishing in a small curl) did not entirely hide his rather weak chin. Harry had a hard time believing what Remus and Sirius had warned him about Karkaroff. When he reached Dumbledore, he shook hands with both of his own.

‘Dear old Hogwarts,’ he said, looking up at the castle and smiling; his teeth were rather yellow, and Harry noticed that his smile did not extend to his eyes, which remained cold and shrewd, much more like he had imagined. ‘How good it is to be here, how good...Viktor, come along, into the warmth...you don’t mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold...’

Karkaroff beckoned forward one of his students. As the boy passed, Harry caught a glimpse of a prominent curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He didn’t need the brief high-pitched squeal from Theodore to recognize who was in front of them.

‘I can’t believe it—‘ Theodore squeaked, ‘—it’s Krum!’

Edit: (I actually forgot to add a small detail, after her 12th birthday (The 3rd of October) Canini starts taking the Casition Potion which allows her to slowly start going through the female puberty.)

I will give a blurred pic, and you have to guess who?

If you want to PING TO THE NEXT GAME, tell me!

Rules:

Do not cheat!

You have to tell your answer with your house.

Off-topic is not allowed.

I will give you one hint about this character.

You only have ONE GUESS!

I will give hint after 5 guesses by you people.

House:

Ravenclaw: 3

Slytherin: 3

Hufflepuff:

Gryffindor:

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