—RIGEL STARED AT THE DAILY PROPHET IN HIS HANDS AND ROLLED HIS EYES. "The Ministry still didn't find out who the death eaters were." Draco grinned. "They're so dumb— they believe my father is helping them with finding the deatheaters."

"No more dumb than you are." Blaise muttered, earning an eye-roll from the blond.

The two started bickering.. again.

Rigel sighed, standing up and walking out of the compartment, wanting to get some air.

After a few minutes of walking, he found an empty compartment and sat down, closing the door, and opening his book, wanting some peace and quiet.

Unfortunately, luck wasn't on his side— someone knocking on the door caught his attention.

"Get out." Rigel immediately glared.

Thomas Gaunt walked in, laying on the seat in front of him. "I would, but I think my ears can't take their whining anymore. Honestly, they're 17 year olds but complain like they are 4 year olds."

"Who? Your friends?" Rigel asked sarcastically.

"Followers— more like it."

"Of course." The emotionless-looking 14 year old scoffed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tom asked, looking offended by Rigel's tone.

"Well, the concept of you having friends— no."

"I do have friends!"

"Who?"

"You." Tom grinned.

Rigel sneered, glaring at him so harshly that Tom was honestly starting to feel fear for the first time ever. "I am not your friend!" He eventually said.

"You didn't deny it immediately." Tom's grin grew.

"Because I was too busy glaring at you!"

"It's still a start." Tom pointed out.

"Just shut up. I need some peace and quiet."

••

They stayed in silence, both of them doing their own thing. Rigel was busy with reading, while Tom was.. thinking.

Tom looked away from the window, and looked at Rigel, who was, for the first time ever, not sitting down like a proper pureblood.

His knees were brought up to his chest, and his back was leaning on the window, while his book was on his knees.

Maybe Rigel hadn't realized yet, but Tom surely did— Rigel was getting more comfortable around him.

Watching how Rigel tied his curly hair back with a hair tie he had on his wrist made Tom's breath hitch as he came to a realization.

Oh my God.

He fancied Rigel Black.

Tom's eyes widened, now realizing how much things made sense. He shook his head, trying to calm his breathing down. 'It's just a stupid crush. It'll go away soon.' Tom thought, praying to Merlin that he was right.

"Master, are we here yet?" asked Indigo, slithering out under Rigel's arm.

Tom's lips quirked up, realizing how he forgot that Rigel even had a snake, since it was always in the forbidden forest, hunting.

"No. We'll be there soon, darling." Rigel answered, not looking up from the book in his hands.

Indigo nodded, slithering out of the compartment, off to scare some poor first-years.

Tom eyes returned to Rigel, watching how a few strands of hair were fallen out, but he didn't seem to notice, being too busy with his book.

Tom took a deep breath, trying to forget everything he had just thought about for the past few minutes, and looked back at the window.

••

Rigel and Tom nodded at each other, both of them walking to their friends and sitting down with them at the Slytherin table, leaving the other.

"Where were you?" Draco asked, looking a bit worried.

"I wanted peace and quiet. I couldn't get that with your bickering."

Draco rolled his eyes, but didn't deny it.

••

When the sorting was finally over and the puddings, too, had been demolished and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard.

"So!" said Dumbledore smiling around at them all. "Now that we are fed and watered, I must ask once more for your attention while I give out a few notices. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle this year has been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office if anybody would like to check it,"

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched.

He continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you that the Forest in the grounds 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-house Quidditch Cup will not take place this year—"

"What?!" gasped Rigel in horror. He looked at Pucey, Blaise, Draco, Warrington, and his other fellow members of the quidditch team— all looking as horror-stricken as he was.

They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak.

Dumbledore went on, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October and continuing though out the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts—"

But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder, and 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 Hall swiveled towards the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark grey hair, and then began to walk up towards the teachers table.

A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his ever other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right and limped heavily towards Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling.

The lightning had thrown the man's face into a sharp relief.

The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering something. He seemed to be making some kind if enquiry of the stranger who shook his head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to an empty seat on his right-hand side.

"May I introduce our new Defence against the Dark Arts Teacher," said Dumbledore brightly, into the silence, "Professor Moody."

"Mad-Eye Moody? The auror?" Blaise asked in shock.

"Seems like it.." Rigel mused, already knowing who it actually was, due to the fact that Tom and Sirius told him everything in their plan.

It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with an applause, but none of the staff or students clapped except Dumbledore and Hagrid. Both put their hands together and applauded, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly. Everyone else seemed to transfixed by Moody's bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him.

Dumbledore cleared his throat again.

"As I was saying," he said smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad Eye Moody, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event which 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 Weasley loudly.

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

"No I am not joking Mr. Weasley," he said, "Though I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, 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 seven hundred years ago, as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry – Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the Tournament once every five years and it was generally agreed to be the a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witch's and wizards of different nationalities – until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the Tournament was discontinued."

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which have been very successful. However, our own Departments of International Magical Co-Operation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that, this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger."

"The Heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang have already arrived, and on Halloween we will have the Champion Selections. An impartial judge will decide which students, are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school and a thousand galleon personal prize money."

"Eager though I know all of you will be able to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an agreed restriction 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 his voice slightly for several people had made noises of outrage at these words – "is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the Tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below Sixth and Seventh year will be able 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 over to Fred and George's mutinous faces. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen,"

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be staying with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter you lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop Chop!"