Hogwarts was buzzing with excitement. The sign announcing the arrival of the two foreign schools had the inhabitants of the castle scurrying around with whispers on their lips, all on one topic: The Triwizard Tournament. Rumors flew between students about who might try for Hogwarts' champion, what the tournament would involve, and how the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang differed from themselves.

The castle itself seemed to be undergoing an extra-thorough cleaning. Several grimy portraits had been scrubbed, suits of armor were suddenly gleaming and moving without squeaking, and Argus Flitch, 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, reprimanding students left and right over their skills and mannerisms. Neville Longbottom, in particular, seemed to be the focus of this for the Fourth Years.

When the students arrived for breakfast on the morning of the thirtieth of October, they found the Great Hall had been decorated overnight with enormous silk banners that hung from the walls, depicting a Hogwarts House each: red with a gold lion, blue with a bronze eagle, yellow with a black badger, and green with a silver serpent. Behind the staff table was the largest of the banners, emblazoned with the Hogwarts coat of arms.

The feeling of anticipation hung in the air all day. Nobody was very interested in their lessons, as they were far more interested in the arrival that evening of the people from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. When the bell rang early, there was a mad rush to return bags and books to specific dorm rooms and change into their cleanest robes and cloaks, before they had to rush back to the entrance hall.

The Heads of the four Houses were ordering their students into lines, before leading them onto the expansive lawn in front of the enormous front doors.

The evening was cold and clear, and a pale, transparent-looking moon shone over the Forbidden Forest. Many eyes scanned the darkening grounds excitedly, but nothing was moving; everything was still, silent and quiet as usual.

From the back, Albus Dumbledore called, "Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

"Where!?" cried many of the students eagerly.

"There!" yelled Sixth year, pointing over the forest.

Something large, much larger than a broomstick, was hurtling across the deep blue sky toward the castle, and growing steadily larger.

"It's a dragon!" shrieked a first year.

"Don't be stupid!" said a Gryffindor boy. "It's a flying house."

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 an enormous powder-blue horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring towards 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 lower and passed them, coming to land at a tremendous speed. Hagrid, the groundskeepers, had to leap out of the way before he was squashed into a pancake. The horses all tossed their heads and rolled their large fiery red eyes. The door of the carriage bore a golden coat of arms; two crossed wands emitting three stars.

The carriage settled onto its wheels and a strange, oddly eerie noise drifted toward the Hogwarts students from the darkness. It was a muffled rumbling and sucking sound, as though an immense vacuum cleaner were moving along a riverbed….

"The lake! Look at the lake!"

From their position at the top of the lawns overlooking the grounds, the students of Hogwarts 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; mammoth 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. Slowly, magnificently, the ship rose out of the water, dripping in the moonlight. It had a strangely skeletal look about it, and dim misty lights shimmered at its portholes. Finally, with a great sloshing noise, the ship emerged entirely, bobbing on the turbulent water, and white sails patterned with old-style red dragons unfurled themselves as the ship glided toward the bank. The splash of an anchor echoed up to them and Dumbledore once again spoke up.

"Let's all head back inside, settle ourselves at our House tables, and let our guests get settled."

The students quickly retreated into the Entrance Hall and then further into the Great Hall, where they seated themselves at their tables and turned to their Headmaster when he approached the podium in front of the staff table.

"Now that we're all settled in and sorted," He chuckled a little at the joke. "I'd like to make an announcement. This castle will not only be your home this year but home to our guests as well. The Triwizard Tournament brings together three schools for a series of magical contests. From each school a single student is selected to compete. Now let me be clear, if chosen, you stand alone. And trust me when I say, these contests are not for the faint-hearted. But more of that later. For now, please join me in welcoming the lovely students of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic!"

The heads of all the students turned to the Great Hall doors as they squeaked open.

"And their Headmistress, Madame Maxime."

A dozen girls in pale blue silk marched delicately into the Great Hall, pausing after several steps and sighing elegantly towards the Hufflepuff table. They returned to their upright positions and took several more steps, then sighed towards the Gryffindor table. The girls flounced in sure dance-like movements to the front of the hall, and sighed again, extending both their arms to release several magical butterflies. They pranced past one another with perfect timing.

Behind them were another dozen students, boys this time, also dressed in pale blue silk, but the boys wore finely tailored grey slacks that pulled tight against their legs as they spun and leapt their way towards their female counterparts, sending up butterflies as they all came to a halt at the front of the room. They were followed by an acrobatic young man who flipped his way to the front and a young blonde girl who spun perfectly to a halt in a curtesy.

The Beauxbatons students were all followed by largest woman anyone had ever seen. She was handsome, with olive-toned skin, large liquid-black eyes, and a rather beaky nose. Her hair was cut into a stylish bob, and she was dressed from head to foot in black satin, while many magnificent opals gleamed at her throat and on her thick fingers.

The students all gave a bow or curtsey, and the Hogwarts students cheered loudly as the French school moved to stand out of the way, while Dumbledore personally led their Headmistress to her seat at the staff table. He held up his hands once he returned from seating the large woman, and quieted his students.

"And now, our proud friends from the North," He called. "Please greet the sons and daughters of Durmstrang, and their Headmaster Igor Karkaroff."

The students turned to the open doors as the Durmstrang students, dressed in warm red uniforms and furred hats, strode into the Great Hall with carved staffs that shot sparks from their bottoms when they were slammed onto the stone floor.

With what classified as manly cry, the Durmstrang students, both male and female, switched the poles to the opposite hands and banged them on the ground once, and then twice more. They stopped with militaristic precision and lifted their staffs horizontally, spun them several times and then banged them on the ground again. Several of the students placed their staves on the ground and took off in a very impressive series of powerful flips and acrobatics, completely different from the Beauxbatons boy from before because theses students oozed power rather than grace. One of the girls doing tricks back flipped over another from where she was standing, and as one, the students all turned to look at the doors again.

Striding forward with purpose came three figures, two in the front and one behind. The two in the front were incredibly recognizable, even dressed in their red-brown uniforms trimmed with dark fur, rather than the scarlet of the other uniforms they had been seen in lately.

"Blimey." Said one of the Gryffindors to his friend, and this echoed over the table from several students. "It's them. The Krums."

Behind the Krums came their Headmaster, dressed in white robes trimmed with silvery fur. Dumbledore jumped a little as a pair of Durmstrang students blew dramatically on the ends of their wands and fire spewed around the front of the great hall, taking the form of a phoenix that flapped its wings once, and then exploded into a shower of flames, along with the staves of the students.

"Albus." Karkaroff greeted the man with a strong accent and a pat on the back before he nodded to his students and took his seat. The Durmstrang students moved to the side of the hall as Dumbledore swept forward.

"Hogwarts," He called, lifting his arms. "Let's entertain our friends in the best way we can! All stand."

The British students, all dressed in black, rose loudly to their feet.

"Maestro, please." Their headmaster called, turning, and brandishing his wand. A banner appeared in the air above the staff table, and golden writing appeared on it.

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, hoggy warty Hogwarts," The students began to sing, all in different tempos and pitches. The Beauxbatons students exchanged looks and tried not to wrinkle their noses. The Durmstrang students all carefully maintained blank faces, but several were obviously fighting off sniggers and whispering to the people next to them.

"Teach us something please, whether we be old and 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,"

All it took was one suppressed snort from somewhere between the Beauxbatons boys and the Durmstrang folks and the French girls dissolved into titters as the Hogwarts students started waving their arms in the air in badly synchronized movements.

"Dead flies and bits of fluff. So, teach us things worth knowing, bring back what we've forgot, just do your best, we'll do the rest and learn until our brains all rot."

It was the Durmstrang who started the half-hearted polite clapping, all with shared looks of barely veiled amusement. The Beauxbatons students joined in, obviously only to be polite and not at all because they enjoyed the show.

"Thank you." Dumbledore made his way back to the staff table. "Please take your seats. Our students would happy host you at their tables!"

Karkaroff motioned his students towards the Slytherin table, and all of them immediately made their way to the far side of the Great Hall. The Beauxbatons students shuffled amongst themselves and then, as a group, made their way to sit with the Ravenclaws.

Lilyanna Krum was used to the stares that followed her and her brother everywhere they went. Being stared at when they entered the Great Hall of Hogwarts was no big deal. It was still a bit unnerving when the students around her stared when she sat down and glanced over to check her older brother.

Viktor sniffled as he sat, looking surly as per usual. The Hogwarts students at the table with red ties all looked disappointed when they sat where they did.

Petrov, one of Viktor's dormmates, picked up one of the golden plates and turned it back and forth so that it caught the light of the many candles that floated above them. Maria, her own dormmate, was focused on the enchanted ceiling that showed many rain-laden clouds drifting overhead.

Frankly, besides the ceiling, both Lilyanna and Viktor were unimpressed. Hogwarts was drafty and, while they were used to the cold, was a bit chilly. The British school of magic was underprepared to host them, in her opinion. Durmstrang had been practicing their entrance since the small group of them were chosen to attend the Tournament.

"Hello." Lilyanna was drawn from her observations by the boy across from her. His platinum blond hair was slicked back out of his face, and his robes and tie were carefully pressed and done up properly. "The name's Draco. Draco Malfoy."

Viktor and Lilyanna traded a look at the introduction, and then focused back on the Malfoy heir. They knew who he was.

"I am Lilyanna," The Durmstrang girl supplied the boy, who more than likely already knew who they were, judging by the look on his face and the gleam in his eyes. "And this is my brother, Viktor."

"Yes," Draco nodded, looking smug. "The famous Krum siblings."

"He's looking for attention." Viktor murmured to her in Bulgarian.

"Obviously." She replied monotonously, shrugging a shoulder at her brother.

Headmaster Dumbledore, standing at the head of the room, waved his arms for silence.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and – most particularly – guests." He said, beaming at the those not from his own school. "I have the great pleasure of welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

One of the Beauxbatons girls let out a derisive and not entirely quiet laugh at this statement, shivering in her blue silk dress.

"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast." Dumbledore continued. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

Lilyanna raised a brow as the tables all magically filled with food and the Hogwarts students began reaching for the serving spoons and ladles. Both she and Victor were well-versed in European cuisine from all over, having to travel for Quidditch and all, but she still favored those Bulgarian familiarities from home, like musaka. Of which, there was currently a dish sitting in front of her, next to what appeared to be a bowl of bouillabaisse. Viktor made a noise deep in his throat and Lilyanna chuckled at him, spooning the seafood stew into a bowl and placing on his plate. He shot her an exasperated look, but snatched a piece of bread from the basket slightly down the table and hunkered over his stew.

The Krum girl nodded in satisfaction and turned to her own full plate, eyeing what the Malfoy boy was drinking with interest. It's distinctly orange color reminded her of pumpkins.

"It's pumpkin juice." The boy next to Malfoy said, smiling a bit dumbly. "We drink it all the time here! Do you want some?"

He began reaching for a pitcher that was obviously out of his reach, and Lilyanna wrinkled her nose, straightening her back. "No. Just water is fine."

"Yeah, Goyle." Malfoy drove an elbow into the boy's ribs. "Get Lilyanna Krum some water."

"He's awfully bossy," Maria commented, watching Petrov with slightly glassy eyes. She spooned some sort of creamy soup into her mouth without really watching.

"It's how he was raised," Lilyanna replied, shrugging off her fur coat. "He's one of those."

"Oh." Maria's face fell into a scowl and she straightened to sit properly. Several of the Durmstrang students who had overheard the conversation glanced in their direction with slightly narrowed eyes. Blood purity, while a huge deal in England, was less of a deal in Bulgaria and it's surrounding countries. They had been well removed from the so-called "First Wizarding War" nestled in their homes and at school. There had been some bigots who had noticed these ways and had started hate-groups. They were either ignored or eradicated through legal – or not so legal – means.

Maria was a Muggleborn witch and was one of the loveliest people you could ever meet, but she'd been bullied the first several years at Durmstrang for this reason. It had been quickly put an end to.

Dessert quickly followed dinner, and Viktor grumbled at his sister until she relented and gave him what he wanted, which was an enormous heaping plate of apple crumble and ice cream. She gave it to him despite the head cold he was suffering from. There was little conversation on the Durmstrang side of the table they sat at, but the Slytherins – that's what they named themselves with great pride – spoke often of everything and anything that seemed impressive to them, most of which was a bore.

Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore rose from his seat and sent the hall into blissful silence. Lilyanna's tense shoulders relaxed at the lack of noise from the Slytherins across from them.

Tension seemed to fill the hall, though not unpleasant. A thrill of excitement wove through many of the students gathered and many stared at the wizened wizard with an immense amount of concentration.

"The moment has come," he said, smiling at everyone. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket, just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mister Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation,"

A smattering of polite applause echoed through the chamber when Dumbledore paused.

"And Mister Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

There was more applause for the portly grinning man then there had been for Mister Crouch, likely due to his previous fame of being the Beater for the Wasps, back in his day.

"Mister Bagman and Mister Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament, and will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts."

Lilyanna almost chuckled when the word 'champions' came out of Dumbledore's mouth because many of the listening students sharpened their attention at this.

"The casket, then, if you please, Mister Filch." A ratty looking man came forward from the corner where he had been skulking, carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked immensely old and very heavy. Murmurs of excitement rose from the watching students.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mister Crouch and Mister Bagman," Dumbledore said as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table in front of the old wizard. "And they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many ways… their magical prowess, their daring, their powers of deduction, and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament, one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks, and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champion will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."

From his sleeve, Dumbledore drew his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the embellished chest. The lid creaked open slowly, and the students all leaned forward with anticipation. The Hogwarts Headmaster reached in and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. Had it not been filled with dancing blue-white flames, the cup would have been entirely unremarkable. Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on the top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet." Said the man. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete."

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line."

The Krum girl felt her face split into a grin, and she slapped her hand against her brother's bicep excitedly. He frowned heavily at her, but his eyes flickered to the Goblet again with interest.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete… that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obligated to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name into the Goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all!"

"I'm going to do it," Lilyanna announced to her fellow students of Durmstrang. They all turned to look at her with expressions that ranged from annoyed to exasperated. "I'm going to enter my name for the tournament."

"I think we all are," Petrov replied to her. "Except Maria and Claude; they are both too young."

"Which is unfair, I think." Claude, a gangly boy with shaggy hair and a goatee, spoke up. He was one of the smartest students of Durmstrang, having skipped a grade. He was only fifteen, but likely knew more spells than Petrov and Maria, both of whom were top of their class. "This Tournament should be available to those who have learned the equivalent syllabus of a European sixth-year."

"It makes sense, though," Viktor interjected, shrugging on his fur coat and sniffling. "Seventeen is the legal age of an adult wizard. By setting the age limit to seventeen, those Ministry people in charge of the Tournament are ensuring that no legal repercussions are taken by parents, because – again – legally, they cannot do anything about their adult child making these kinds of decisions."

Petrov dropped a hand onto the Quidditch star's shoulder with a loud laugh that jolted several of the British girls out of their intense conversation at the table behind the Slytherin one. "There you go again, Viktor! Stop being so smart!"

"Back to the ship, then," Karkaroff said as he bustled towards them. "Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens? And you, Lilyanna? Do you need a warmer coat? Did you eat well?"

The pair of Krums shook their heads and stood, fluffing their coats out and exchanging looks, as they often did.

"Professor, I would like some wine." Said one of the others.

"I wasn't offering it to you, Poliakoff." Snapped Karkaroff, the warm and slightly overbearing paternal air vanishing in an instant. "I notice you have dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting boy…."

Their headmaster gestured abruptly for them to follow and led them towards the doors. A trio of students with red ties – Gryffindors, per their new Slytherin friends – stopped to let them all pass.

"Thank you," Karkaroff said carelessly, and then glanced down at the boy. He stopped mid-step, turned his head, and stared like he couldn't believe his eyes. Behind him, the Durmstrang's students came to a halt. Lily and Viktor watched as their headmaster's eyes traveled up the black-haired boy's face to the scar that poked out of his messy bangs.

"That's Harry Potter." Lily murmured to her brother, tilting her head a bit. Viktor hummed at her in response, blinking down at her with tired eyes.

"Yeah, that's Harry Potter." A growling voice said from behind the students of Durmstrang. Karkaroff spun around. A man was standing there, leaning heavily on his staff, and a magical eye glaring unblinkingly at their headmaster. Curiously, the color in Karkaroff's face drained and a terrible look of both fear and fury crossed his features.

"You!" he cried.

"Me," said the man grimly. "And unless you've got anything to say to Potter, Karkaroff, you might want to move. You're blocking the doorway."

This statement was true. Half of the students in the Hall were now waiting behind the Durmstrang students, who had the decency to look a little ashamed at taking up so much space. Without another word, Headmaster Karkaroff swept away with the rest of Durmstrang following.

Their swift descent to their ship was punctured only by the sound of the waves on the shore and their boots in the gravel along the beach. Karkaroff counted each of the students as they passed up the gangplank and then quickly followed up, glancing over his shoulder only once.

"To bed with you." The man called over his shoulder as he vanished into the captain's cabin at the far end of the ship. Several partly transparent ghosts floated back and forth conversing with one another in soft tones, but many nodded at the students and bade them a good night's rest. The Durmstrang students scurried down into the belly of the ship hanging up their coats on the enchanted coat rack by the ladder down. Viktor and his sister were the last two down, conversing quietly about their parents and what they should write in a letter home.

"You are going to put your name in the Goblet too?" Lily called up to her brother from the bottom of the ladder.

"Yes," Viktor replied, sliding down the ladder with a faint grin on his usually surly face. He pulled her under his arm and ruffled her always messy black hair. "I have to keep you from getting all the glory, you know."

"Get off, you!"