"In short."
He rolled up the parchment and tapped it against his palm, producing a sharp crack.
"This semester, the Academic Affairs Office will be enforcing discipline strictly. Curfew. The Forbidden Forest. Contraband. Don't think about pushing our limits." He let the words hang for a moment. "That's all."
Before the echo had even faded, a single pair of hands began to clap. Loud. Solitary. Enthusiastic.
Filch.
He didn't care one bit that the Academic Affairs Office was cutting into his authority. All he knew was that an era had finally arrived , an era where someone with actual wizarding power could properly deal with those unruly little brats.
Sirius sat back down and gave Moody a nod.
The electric blue eye swiveled over, lingered on Sirius's face for exactly one second, then resumed its sweep of the hall.
Finally, Albus Dumbledore rose once more.
The gravity had drained from his expression. In its place was a mysterious, twinkling smile.
"Now, before everyone digests all this wonderful news and turns their attention to dessert, I have one final announcement."
He paused, savoring the suspense.
"It gives me great pleasure to inform you that a magnificent event , one that has been interrupted for over a century — will be held at Hogwarts this year."
He spread his arms wide. His voice rolled through the Great Hall like thunder.
"The Triwizard Tournament will return to our world!"
"You're joking!"
Fred's voice tore across the hall and shattered the stunned silence.
The Great Hall exploded.
Gasps, shouts, laughter, disbelief , all of it crashed together like a wave swallowing the room whole.
Albus Dumbledore chuckled with obvious delight.
"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley."
He explained the tournament's history in detail: the origins of the competition, the coming of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, and the rather alarming death toll.
"Death toll?" Hermione's voice had a slight tremor in it.
Most people, though, were like Fred , eyes burning with hunger for glory and gold.
"...and the individual champion will receive a prize of one thousand Galleons."
At that, Ron's mouth fell open in a perfect O. His eyes lit up like coins catching sunlight.
"However," Albus Dumbledore's tone shifted, his voice settling back into gravity, "given the tournament's dangerous nature, the Ministry of Magic and the participating schools have agreed to impose an age restriction."
"Only students who are seventeen years of age or older will be permitted to enter their names."
"What?!"
Fred and George shot out of their chairs simultaneously, faces blazing with outrage and betrayal.
"We turn seventeen next April!"
"That's not fair!"
Albus Dumbledore raised his voice just enough to cut through the uproar.
"I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion."
His blue eyes swept slowly, meaningfully, across the faces of the Weasley twins.
Douglas noticed something. While Dumbledore spoke, Moody's normal eye was fixed hard on Dumbledore himself , but that blue magical eye was spinning restlessly back and forth over Fred and George.
"Now — off to bed!"
The students surged toward the doors like a dam giving way.
Argument, excitement, complaint , all of it tangled together in the noise.
Fred and George stomped off debating Aging Potion, or maybe some other trick from that copy of The Comprehensive Guide to Magical Artifacts they needed to dig out as soon as possible.
Ron and Harry drifted behind them, talking with naked longing about the infinite possibilities of becoming champion.
The students poured back to their common rooms, heads full of Triwizard fantasies and the distant dread of make-up exams.
The Great Hall went quiet.
But the Academic Affairs Office blazed with light.
For the first time on an opening night, it was Hogwarts' nerve center.
Sirius Black stood in front of a massive map of the castle. His wand moved in quick, precise strokes across the parchment, red ink lines branching and spreading, sketching out a web of patrol routes.
"Emily , seventh floor and the Astronomy Tower. Keep your eye on the corridor outside the Ravenclaw common room."
He spoke fast, with the clipped energy of someone launching a campaign.
Ravenclaw's Emily Winston answered with a sharp nod, snatched up a marked roll of parchment, and was out the door.
"Mr. Filch."
Sirius turned to face the caretaker.
Argus Filch stood at his side. His shoulders trembled with barely contained excitement. In his hands he clutched a brand-new patrol map in a white-knuckled grip.
His jurisdiction was smaller than it used to be. Significantly smaller. But the Academic Affairs Office had given him something in exchange, and what they'd given him was...
"Yes, Director!"
The word came out hoarse and loud, shot through with decades of suppressed hunger finally allowed to breathe.
The deep lines of his face rearranged themselves into something approaching a smile , though on Filch, it looked closer to a snarl.
"Dungeons and the west corridor on the first floor. Your territory."
Sirius tapped the map. "The Academic Affairs Office authorizes you to use binding chains if necessary. Don't injure them, though."
"Of course, of course! I'll have them behaving properly — very properly indeed!"
The light in Filch's eyes was pure, undiluted revenge.
He promised Sirius that tonight, not even a mouse would slip past him. And as he said it, he could already see it: all those rule-breaking little brats dangling from the ceiling in chains. A beautiful vision. A shame they couldn't bring back corporal punishment while they were at it.
He swept out of the office with Mrs. Norris at his heels, barely able to contain himself.
In the corner of the room, a man stood apart.
Alastor Moody.
He leaned against the wall, heavy cloak half-swallowed by the shadows. That electric blue eye never stopped moving for an instant , tracking Professor Flitwick's retreating back, cataloguing the mania on Filch's face, watching the brisk confidence of Sirius at the map.
He was assessing.
Efficiency. Defensive strength. Loyalty. Everything about this newly formed Academic Affairs Office, measured and filed away.
The magical eye's focus finally settled on the map.
Its rotation suddenly accelerated , spinning so fast it was dizzying to watch.
"That thing." Moody pushed off the wall. "Interesting."
He crossed the room with his uneven gait, his scarred face dropping close to the parchment.
"Routes are well planned, Sirius. Overlapping coverage. No obvious blind spots."
He tapped one point on the map with a thick, rough finger.
Sirius allowed himself a satisfied smile. "Douglas helped me design it. We combined standard Auror tactics with... some of his own ideas."
"Not enough."
Moody's voice went cold.
"Why isn't everyone's name on it?"
His finger drew a wide circle across the whole map.
"Real-time monitoring. Every moment, every location, every person , nowhere to hide." He pulled back slightly, his blue eye still spinning. "That is what genuine security looks like."
➤ Next: Mad-Eye's Warning Shot: You're Just a Babysitter!
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