Through the gates, flanked with statues of winged boars, andup the sweeping drive the carriages trundled, swaying dangerously in what was fast becoming a gale. Leaning against the window, I could see Hogwarts coming nearer, its many lightedwindows blurred and shimmering behind the thick curtain of rain. 

Lightning flashed across the sky as our carriage came to a haltbefore the great oak front doors, which stood at the top of a flightof stone steps. People who had occupied the carriages in front werealready hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. Me, Zoe, Nicholas, and Draco jumped down from our carriage anddashed up the steps too, looking up only when we were safelyinside the cavernous, torch-lit entrance hall, with its magnificentmarble staircase.

 "Blimey," said Draco, shaking his head and sending water everywhere, "if that keeps up the lake's going to overflow. I'm soak —ARRGH!"

A large, red, water-filled balloon had dropped from out of theceiling onto Draco's head and exploded. Drenched and sputtering, Draco staggered sideways into me, just as a second water bombdropped — narrowly missing Nicholas, it burst at Zoe's feet,sending a wave of cold water over her sneakers into her socks. People all around us shrieked and started pushing one another intheir efforts to get out of the line of fire. I looked up and saw,floating twenty feet above them, Peeves the Poltergeist, a little manin a bell-covered hat and orange bow tie, his wide, malicious facecontorted with concentration as he took aim again.

 "PEEVES!" yelled an angry voice. "Peeves, come down here atONCE!"

 Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and head of Gryffindor House, had come dashing out of the Great Hall; she skiddedon the wet floor and grabbed Zoe around the neck to stopherself from falling.

 "Ouch — sorry, Miss Anderson —" 

"That's all right, Professor!" Zoe gasped, massaging herthroat.

 "Peeves, get down here NOW!" barked Professor McGonagall,straightening her pointed hat and glaring upward through hersquare-rimmed spectacles. 

"Not doing nothing!" cackled Peeves, lobbing a water bomb atseveral fifth-year girls, who screamed and dived into the GreatHall. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!" Andhe aimed another bomb at a group of second years who had justarrived. 

"I shall call the headmaster!" shouted Professor McGonagall."I'm warning you, Peeves —" 

Peeves stuck out his tongue, threw the last of his water bombsinto the air, and zoomed off up the marble staircase, cacklinginsanely. 

"Well, move along, then!" said Professor McGonagall sharply tothe bedraggled crowd. "Into the Great Hall, come on!" 

Draco,Zoe, Nicholas and I slipped and slid across the entrancehall and through the double doors on the right, Draco mutteringfuriously under his breath as he pushed his sopping hair off hisface. Is it weird I find that attractive?

The Great Hall looked its usual splendid self, decorated for thestart-of-term feast. Golden plates and goblets gleamed by the lightof hundreds and hundreds of candles, floating over the tables inmidair. The four long House tables were packed with chatteringstudents; at the top of the Hall, the staff sat along one side of a fifthtable, facing their pupils. 

It was much warmer in here. Draco,Zoe,Nicholas and I walked past the Gryffindors, the Ravenclaws, and theHufflepuffs, and sat down with the rest of the Slytherinss at the farside of the Hall, next to Bloody Baron, the Slytherin ghost. Pearly white and semitransparent, The bloody baron was dressed in chains and was always sombre. 

"Good evening," he said, expressionless. 

"Says who?" said Draco, taking off his sneakers and emptyingthem of water. "Hope they hurry up with the Sorting. I'mstarving."

 The Sorting of the new students into Houses took place at thestart of every school year.

"Where's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Zoe, who was looking up at the teachers. 

We had never yet had a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacherwho had lasted more than three terms. My favorite by far had been Professor Lupin, who had resigned last year. I looked upand down the staff table. There was definitely no new face there. 

"Maybe they couldn't get anyone!" said Nicholas, lookinganxious. 

I scanned the table more carefully. Tiny little ProfessorFlitwick, the Charms teacher, was sitting on a large pile of cushionsbeside Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher, whose hat wasaskew over her flyaway gray hair. She was talking to Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department. On Professor Sinistra's otherside was the sallow-faced, hook-nosed, greasy-haired Potions master, Snape —Head of my house and my least favorite person at Hogwarts. Harry's hatred was more, the absolute Harry'sloathing of Snape was matched only by Snape's hatred of him, a hatred which had, if possible, intensified last year, when Harry and I hadhelped Sirius escape right under Snape's overlarge nose — Snapeand Sirius had been enemies since their own school days.On Snape's other side was an empty seat, which I guessedwas Professor McGonagall's. Next to it, and in the very center ofthe table, sat Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, his sweepingsilver hair and beard shining in the candlelight, his magnificentdeep green robes embroidered with many stars and moons. Thetips of Dumbledore's long, thin fingers were together and he wasresting his chin upon them, staring up at the ceiling through hishalf-moon spectacles as though lost in thought. I glanced upat the ceiling too. It was enchanted to look like the sky outside, and I had never seen it look this stormy. Black and purple clouds wereswirling across it, and as another thunderclap sounded outside, afork of lightning flashed across it. 

"Oh hurry up," Zoe moaned, beside me, "I could eat ahippogriff."

The words were no sooner out of her mouth than the doors ofthe Great Hall opened and silence fell. Professor McGonagall wasleading a long line of first years up to the top of the Hall. If Me,Draco, Zoe, and Nicholas were wet, it was nothing to how these firstyears looked. 

They appeared to have swum across the lake ratherthan sailed. All of them were shivering with a combination of coldand nerves as they filed along the staff table and came to a halt in aline facing the rest of the school — all of them except the smallestof the lot, a boy with mousy hair, who was wrapped in what I recognized as Hagrid's moleskin overcoat. The coat was so big forhim that it looked as though he were draped in a furry black circustent. His small face protruded from over the collar, looking almostpainfully excited

"What happened to him?" whispered Zoe.

Professor McGonagall now placed a three-legged stool on theground before the first years and, on top of it, an extremely old,dirty, patched wizard's hat. The first years stared at it. So did everyone else. For a moment, there was silence. Then a long tear near thebrim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song: 

A thousand years or more ago, 

When I was newly sewn, 

There lived four wizards of renown, 

Whose names are still well known: 

Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor, 

Fair Ravenclaw, from glen, 

Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,

Shrewd Slytherin, from fen. 

They shared a wish, a hope, a dream, 

They hatched a daring plan 

To educate young sorcerers 

Thus Hogwarts School began. 

Now each of these four founders

 Formed their own house, for each

 Did value different virtues 

In the ones they had to teach.

 By Gryffindor, the bravest were 

Prized far beyond the rest; 

For Ravenclaw, the cleverest 

Would always be the best; 

For Hufflepuff, hard workers were 

Most worthy of admission; 

And power-hungry Slytherin

 Loved those of great ambition.

 While still alive they did divide 

Their favorites from the throng, 

Yet how to pick the worthy ones 

When they were dead and gone? 

'Twas Gryffindor who found the way, 

He whipped me off his head 

The founders put some brains in me

 So I could choose instead! 

Now slip me snug about your ears,

 I've never yet been wrong,

 I'll have a look inside your mind 

And tell where you belong!

The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished. 

"That's not the song it sang when it Sorted us," I said, clapping along with everyone else. 

"Sings a different one every year," said Nicholas. "It's got to be apretty boring life, hasn't it, being a hat? I suppose it spends all yearmaking up the next one." 

Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll ofparchment."When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit onthe stool," she told the first years. "When the hat announces yourHouse, you will go and sit at the appropriate table. 

"Ackerley, Stewart!"A

 boy walked forward, visibly trembling from head to foot,picked up the Sorting Hat, put it on, and sat down on the stool. 

"RAVENCLAW!" shouted the hat. 

Stewart Ackerley took off the hat and hurried into a seat at theRavenclaw table, where everyone was applauding him. 

 "Baddock, Malcolm!" 

"SLYTHERIN!" I clapped along with the rest of my house

Branstone, Eleanor!" 

"HUFFLEPUFF!" 

"Cauldwell, Owen!"

 "HUFFLEPUFF!" 

"Creevey, Dennis!" 

Tiny Dennis Creevey staggered forward, tripping over Hagrid'smoleskin, just as Hagrid himself sidled into the Hall through adoor behind the teachers' table. About twice as tall as a normalman, and at least three times as broad, Hagrid, with his long, wild,tangled black hair and beard, looked slightly alarming — a misleading impression, for I knew Hagridto possess a very kind nature. He winked at me as he sat down atthe end of the staff table and watched Dennis Creevey putting onthe Sorting Hat. The rip at the brim opened wide — 

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted. 

The table to the far right cheered. 

The Sorting continued; boys and girls with varying degrees of fright on their faces moving one by one to the three-legged stool,the line dwindling slowly as Professor McGonagall passed the L's. 

"Oh hurry up," Nicholas moaned, massaging his stomach. 

"Now, some ghosts may argue, the Sorting's much more important than food," said Bloody Baron as "Madley, Laura!" became a Hufflepuff.

 " 'Course it is, if you're dead,"I snapped. 

 "Pritchard, Graham!"

 "SLYTHERIN!" [we clapped]

 "Quirke, Orla!"

 "RAVENCLAW!"And finally, with 

"Whitby, Kevin!" ("HUFFLEPUFF!"), theSorting ended. Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and thestool and carried them away.

 "About time," said Draco, seizing his knife and fork and lookingexpectantly at his golden plate.Professor Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was smilingaround at the students, his arms opened wide in welcome."I have only two words to say to you," he told us, his deepvoice echoing around the Hall. "Tuck in." 

"Hear, hear!" said me and Zoe loudly as the empty dishesfilled magically before our eyes.

The dinner was, as usual. Absolutely amazing. The rain was still drumming heavily against the high, dark glass.Another clap of thunder shook the windows, and the stormy ceiling flashed, illuminating the golden plates as the remains of thefirst course vanished and were replaced, instantly, with puddings.

"I can't eat another bite." groaned Nicholas, but proceeded to fill his plate with ice cream. 

When the puddings too had been demolished, and the lastcrumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean,Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. The buzz of chatter fillingthe Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind andpounding rain could be heard. 

"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "Now thatwe are all fed and watered,I mustonce more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices.

 "Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list ofobjects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended toinclude Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-BashingBoomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirtyseven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, ifanybody would like to check it."

 The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. He continued,"As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on thegrounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. 

"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-HouseQuidditch Cup will not take place this year." 

"What?" Draco gasped. He looked around at his fellow members of the Quidditch team. They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak.

 Dumbledore went on, "This is due to an event that will be startingin October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking upmuch of the teachers' time and energy — but I am sure you will allenjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that thisyear at Hogwarts —" 

But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunderand the doors of the Great Hall banged open.A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff,shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hallswiveled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by afork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered hishood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table.

 A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. Hereached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavilytoward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. 

Zoe gasped.

 The lightning had thrown the man's face into sharp relief, and itwas a face unlike any I had ever seen. It looked as though ithad been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had onlythe vaguest idea of what human faces are supposed to look like, andwas none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to bescarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunkof the nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes that made himfrightening.

 One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large,round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, andfrom side to side, quite independently of the normal eye — andthen it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head,so that all we could see was whiteness. 

The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand thatwas as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words I couldn't hear. He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head unsmilingly and repliedin an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to theempty seat on his right-hand side.The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark gray hair out ofhis face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what wasleft of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of hispocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. 

Hisnormal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was stilldarting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and thestudents. 

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Artsteacher?" said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. "ProfessorMoody."

 It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause,but none of the staff or students clapped except Dumbledore andHagrid, who both put their hands together and applauded, but thesound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairlyquickly. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by Moody's bizarreappearance to do more than stare at him. 

"Moody?" I muttered to Draco. "Mad-Eye Moody?"

"Must be," said Draco in a low, awed voice. 

"What happened to him?" Zoe whispered. "What happened to his face?" 

"Dunno," Draco whispered back, watching Moody with fascination.

 Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, hereached again into his traveling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, andtook a long draught from it. As he lifted his arm to drink, his cloakwas pulled a few inches from the ground, and Harry saw, below thetable, several inches of carved wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot.Dumbledore cleared his throat. 

"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students beforehim, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody,"we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over thecoming 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." 

"You're JOKING!" said Fred loudly, from the gryffindor table. Draco and Nicholas were grinning at me and zoe.

The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrivalsuddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.

 "I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though now that youmention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about atroll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar . . ." 

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly. 

"Er — but maybe this is not the time . . . no . . ." said Dumbledore, "where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament . . . well,some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely. 

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some sevenhundred years ago as a friendly competition between the threelargest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, andDurmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school,and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. Theschools took it in turns to host the tournament once every fiveyears, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities — until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that thetournament was discontinued." 

"Death toll?" Astoria Greengrass whispered, looking alarmed. But heranxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of students in theHall; many of us were whispering excitedly to one another, and I myself was far more interested in hearing about the tournament than in worrying about deaths that had happened hundredsof years ago. 

"You knew" I hissed at Draco, "you both knew!"

he just winked.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstatethe tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which hasbeen very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports havedecided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hardover the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will findhimself or herself in mortal danger. 

"The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arrivingwith their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection ofthe three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartialjudge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousandGalleons personal prize money." 

"I'm going for it!" Adrian Pucey hissed down the table, his facelit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. He wasnot the only person who seemed to be visualizing himself as theHogwarts champion.

 At every House table, I could see peopleeither gazing raptly at Dumbledore, or else whispering fervently totheir neighbors. But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hallquieted once more. 

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the TriwizardCup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools,along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an agerestriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age —that is to say, seventeen years or older — will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This" — Dumbledore raised hisvoice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at thesewords, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious — "isa measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks willstill be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and itis highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will beable to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." 

His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered overFred's and George's mutinous faces. "I therefore beg you not to wasteyour time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen. 

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of thisyear. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreignguests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. Andnow, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alertand rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime!Chop chop!" 

Dumbledore sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-EyeMoody. There was a great scraping and banging as all the studentsgot to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall. 

"They can't do that!" said Adrian Pucey, who had not joinedthe crowd moving toward the door, but was standing up and glaring at Dumbledore. "I'm seventeen in April, why can't I have ashot?"

 "They're not stopping me entering," said his friend stubbornly, alsoscowling at the top table. "The champions'll get to do all sorts ofstuff you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousandGalleons prize money!"

 "Yeah," said Nicholas, a faraway look on his face. "Yeah, a thousandGalleons . . ." 

"Come on," said Zoe, "we'll be the only ones left here ifyou don't move." 

Draco, Zoe, Nicholas,  and I set off for the entrance hall, 

 "Who's this impartial judge who's going to decide who thechampions are?" I asked. 

"Dunno," said Nicholas "maybe someone from the ministry..."

We went down to our common room in the dungeons. Our minds full of glory, and promise at the Triwizrd tournament.