October 30th Ⅳ

Thankfully despite being crowded with forty-five additional students from Durmstrang, there was still enough room to breathe at the Slytherin table. When Rowan finally turned her attention towards the other students, she counted only fifteen female students to the thirty male students from Durmstrang. This must mean it's roughly a 3 to 1 ratio of boys to girls and must make dating highly competitive at Durmstrang.

Beauxbatons is actually the opposite when it comes to gender equivalency. There were sixty students in total: with thirty-five of them being girls and twenty-five of them being boys. The ratio is a bit less being 2 to 1, but with the girls being in the majority and boys being the minority of their group.

Which was rather interesting in Rowan's personal opinion since Nicholas Flamel had graduated from Beauxbatons. One would think that a school with such a famous male alchemist would have more males in attendance. But then again Durmstrang had been created by a famous Bulgarian witch and now had very few females in comparison. Time is always moving for better or for worse.

Glancing over at the staff table, Rowan finally spots who will be the two extra judges. A jolly-looking wizard, Dano Amundsen sits on the other side of Professor Vulchanova. While sitting next to Madam Maxime is a dark-haired man with a glass spectacle over his left eye, Stephen Flint. The elegant man with blueish-gray eyes greatly resembled his daughter, Silvia Flint. Stephen Flint purposefully didn't catch his daughters' eye lest he is accused of being biased.

When the deserts finally arrived, Rowan happily tried a few new deserts before calling it quits. Soon enough the golden plates were wiped clean and Dumbledore once more stood. A pleasant sort of tension filled the hall as the 7th-year students especially stared intently up at the staff table.

Smiling at the sea of turned faces, Dumbledore says, "The moment has come for the Triwizard Tournament to start. I'd like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket and to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, please allow me to introduce those that do not know them. Mr. Stephen Flint, acting on behalf of the Head of the Department of Magical Cooperation, who sadly cannot be present." There is a smattering of polite applause before he moves on to the next figure.

"And Mr. Dano Amundsen, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports." There is a much louder round of applause for the jolly-looking wizard.

"The Head of the Department of Magical Cooperation and Mr. Amundsen have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament. And they will be joining myself, Professor Vulchanova, and Madam Maxime on the panel that will judge the champion's efforts," Dumbledore said, but at the mention of the word "champions," the students seem to become that much more attentive.

"The casket then, if you please, Mr. Filch," Dumbledore requested as he turned to the side. Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a car corner of the Hall, solemnly approached carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students.

"The instructions from the tasks the champions will face have already been examined by the Head of the Department of Magical Cooperation and Mr. Amundsen," said Dumbledore as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him. "And they have made the necessary arrangement for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways…. their magical prowess – their daring – their powers of deduction – and of course, their ability to cope with danger." At his last words, the Hall is filled with utter silence as if everyone is holding their breath.

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly to explain. "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 champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: The Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore took out his wand and tapped three times the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames.

Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on 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 Dumbledore. "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."

With a knowing twinkle in his eyes, Dumbledore says, "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 the line."

Dumbledore paused as he stared firmly at all of them. "Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in 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."

Terry stared thoughtfully as they made their way out of the great hall passing the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students making their way back to their carriage and ship. "Hey, do you think the age line applies to you two?" Causing Rowan almost to trip over her feet in horrified shock.

"Don't even DARE suggest such a thing!" Rowan hissed as Severus looked mildly intrigued. "Does it look to you like I have a death wish?!"

Terry shrugs and says, "I mean the both of you are apprentices. And at one point in time that would have made the both of you be considered adults."

"I'd rather not find out," Rowan flatly said with a shiver. "And besides, I have plenty of money, I'm in no need of the prize." Which was true, she had plenty of money in her personal vault.

Terry innocently shrugged in reply as they entered the common room and he drew Severus away to the boy dorms leaving Rowan with a terrible feeling. Nothing possibly could happen right? Left with that uneasy feeling she went to bed filled with terrible nightmares all night long.