After welcoming the two visiting schools and settling them in, the carriage from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic was relocated to a farm near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where there was ample food and where the animal-loving Hagrid could easily take care of the horses.
The ship from Durmstrang Institute was docked at a newly constructed pier.
Yes, newly constructed—when their ship was about to land, Regulus Black drew his wand and, with a flick, felled a nearby tree. He then disassembled it midair into various-sized logs and planks, which assembled themselves into a sturdy pier at the shoreline.
This bold display naturally drew the attention of students and headmasters alike. However, Madame Maxime, headmistress of Beauxbatons, knowing it wasn't directed at her, turned and led her students away without a word.
"Welcome, Headmaster Igor Karkaroff. Quite an impressive ship you have there. Dumbledore is waiting for you inside the Great Hall," Regulus said as he stepped forward, offering a falsely cordial embrace. Karkaroff had once been a Death Eater and had betrayed young Barty Crouch. After Voldemort's return, he fled and was eventually killed in the forests of Germany.
Faced with Regulus Black's clearly provocative display, Karkaroff shamelessly chose to ignore it.
"You won the Quidditch final. Any idea who cast the Dark Mark?" Regulus asked with a smile, though their voices were low.
"How would I know? It wasn't me, that's for sure."
Indeed, as someone who had risen to the position of headmaster, he had no reason to continue being a Death Eater—if anything, he should be guarding against them.
"Maybe it was young Barty Crouch. Who knows?" Regulus said, flashing a mysterious smile. That smile made Karkaroff visibly uncomfortable, for it was he who had once sold out Barty Crouch in exchange for his own freedom.
Karkaroff's face twitched awkwardly, trying to smile but failing.
"Come on! Everyone's waiting for you so the feast can begin," Regulus said, patting him on the back and walking in with the air of an old friend.
After Regulus returned to the staff table, Beauxbatons Academy made their formal entrance. It had to be said—these French girls were far more attractive than their film counterparts. The most eye-catching, Fleur and her sister, lived up to their Veela heritage. Even more beautiful than in the books, they strutted in with perfect synchronized steps, waving their hands to conjure illusions of butterflies and petals, adding an enchanting allure.
The Hogwarts students went wild, especially the boys, who clapped furiously. It was as if their destiny of dying alone had suddenly been overturned—there were girls out there even more marriage-worthy than the British ones.
After the hall quieted down, the Durmstrang delegation entered. They carried metal staves, striking them against the floor to create sparks as they marched. Their routine included flips—forward rolls, backward rolls, and side twists. The lead performer eventually drew his wand and blew out a long, flaming serpent. It was a forceful and impressive display.
But none of them were the real stars. The spotlight belonged to Viktor Krum, who walked in last without any performance. With a stern expression, he strode to the front and gave a slight nod, bringing the routine to a close.
"Looks more like a martial arts performance," Regulus muttered quietly. As wizards, they hadn't used much magic—just physical stunts. Were they planning to rely on brute force after everyone ran out of magic?
In the end, the two headmasters and their students were seated at the feast. The German headmaster sat next to Snape, with Regulus on the other side. The French headmistress sat beside the Head of Ravenclaw House, and on her other side was Hagrid. Two half-giants flanked a tiny house-elf between them.
Who arranged this seating? Regulus could feel Dumbledore's malicious intent.
Were the three former Death Eaters expected to bond over shared experiences? Was the odd contrast in their heights supposed to convey some kind of message?
The students' seating was much more relaxed. The four Hogwarts houses were asked to leave random empty spots to allow French and German students to sit wherever they liked. The guests were quite happy to choose the seats they found most appealing. Ron, in particular, fainted from excitement when Viktor Krum sat down right beside him, and had to be carried away by his brothers and replaced.
Most of the French girls chose seats near other girls, and the female students from the four houses quickly struck up friendly conversations with them.
After the feast had gone on for a while, Barty Crouch Sr., Director of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, arrived. By then, Regulus Black had already finished eating. He wiped his mouth with a handkerchief and calmly waited for what was about to unfold.
The father had appeared—could the son be far behind?
"Completing the Triwizard Tournament is the highest lifetime honor, so please pay close attention to the following. Let us welcome Mr. Barty Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, to explain the tournament rules."
Dumbledore tapped his empty goblet a few times, the crisp clinking sound cutting through the students' chatter.
Regulus Black quietly left his seat—he was going to arrange for the staff to bring in the Goblet of Fire.
"The tournament consists of three parts, and each task is extremely difficult, even dangerous. Students who wish to participate should take note: after careful consideration, the Ministry of Magic has implemented a new rule—children under the age of seventeen are prohibited from entering. This is for your own safety."
Barty Crouch spoke in a serious tone. The students were unaware that there had been casualties in previous tournaments, which was why the Ministry had once terminated the event. The death of a young wizard had prompted the Ministry to reflect for half a century.
This is why bloodline heritage holds such great importance in the wizarding world. It's also the reason Voldemort never let go of Hogwarts—and the reason Regulus Black involved himself in building connections from this very angle.
"Rubbish! Absolute crap!"
"Get lost!"
"What kind of stupid rule is that?!"
With Quidditch matches already suspended and now the Triwizard Tournament clearly out of reach, lower-year students found it unbearable. Emotions ran high, and they even started shouting profanities.
"Silence! The events are dangerous and not meant for younger students."
Regulus Black spoke softly as he walked into the hall, and the students immediately quieted down. The girls, in particular, played a large role in calming the atmosphere.
Behind him followed four school staff members whose strength had been magically enhanced. Filch walked at the rear, keeping an eye on things. The four of them were carrying a heavy chest—a towering five-layered box that appeared to be stacked in layers, though that was only an illusion.
"Looks like the students like him more than they like you,"
Igor Karkaroff said provocatively to Snape. He knew Snape's teaching methods were strict and unpopular among students—except in Slytherin House.
"He's quite the ladies' man. Too bad the German school doesn't have any girls."
Snape was familiar with the situation at Durmstrang. Saying there were no girls was an exaggeration—maybe one out of ten students was female. Otherwise, it might as well be called an all-boys school. In France, the number of male students barely made up even a tenth of the total.
But Snape was counting on this fact—after all, the delegation from the German school consisted only of boys.
A group of women accompanying a single man and helping him carry his things might not seem strange. But a group of men bringing along one woman—or even a group of men carrying things for that one woman—just didn't look right, no matter how you spun it.
That was why Karkaroff hadn't brought any girls along. Yet even that earned Snape's contempt.
Damn old bat!
Once the staff withdrew, Regulus Black also stepped aside. Dumbledore walked forward, drew his wand, and tapped the layered box. The stacked box, which had looked like a solid mass, dissolved like melting dye. Inside was a stone pedestal, upon which sat a large stone goblet. As the box vanished, purple flames—eternal and undying—spontaneously ignited within the goblet.
"Students who wish to participate in the tournament should write their names on a piece of parchment and place it into the Goblet of Fire within this week."
Dumbledore pointed at the Goblet of Fire. It was a tool for registration, as well as for selecting the most suitable candidates.
"To prevent younger students from entering, I will draw a line here to enforce an age restriction. Don't even think about trying to bypass it—you won't succeed."
Dumbledore knew many students would try to challenge the age line, but none would succeed.
Unless an adult wizard intervened.
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