"Some of you might have already heard that this year, Hogwarts will be hosting a very special event."
"The Triwizard Tournament!"
"This is a traditional competition with centuries of history, hosted in turn by three magical schools: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. This year, we have decided to reinstate it."
"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will arrive at the end of October. At that time, we will select a single champion to represent each school through the most impartial method possible..."
Dumbledore gave a brief overview of the Triwizard Tournament.
The entire Great Hall instantly exploded into an uproar. Students at all four long tables were whispering excitedly among themselves. Upon hearing such explosive news, no one could maintain their composure.
Kyle was no exception. He nudged Maurise's arm and asked excitedly, "Maurise, are you going to enter?"
"Of course," Maurise nodded. "Why wouldn't I?"
The excitement on Kyle's face quickly faded, and he let out a heavy sigh. "Then do I even stand a chance?"
Having to compete against Maurise? The mere thought was enough to induce despair.
"However! There is a condition for entry!" Dumbledore's voice echoed from the staff table once more.
The chatter in the Hall died down almost instantly. Everyone looked up at the Headmaster, terrified of missing any crucial details.
Dumbledore cleared his throat.
"The initial decision made by the participating schools and the Ministry of Magic was that only students aged seventeen or older would be permitted to submit their names. This was entirely for your own safety."
"However, after careful deliberation, we concluded that such a rule was not entirely fair. Using age as the sole criterion cannot truly measure whether a student is capable of handling the challenges of the Triwizard Tournament."
"Therefore, we have decided that anyone, regardless of age, who can pass a preliminary trial will be allowed to submit their name."
The moment he finished speaking, the Great Hall erupted into lively chatter once again.
Maurise, meanwhile, noticed Dumbledore shoot him a subtle wink.
Just then, a loud voice rang out from the Gryffindor table. "Professor, what does the trial involve?"
The person asking was Fred.
Dumbledore simply offered a mysterious smile. "You will all find out in due time. Now, it is time to return to your common rooms."
With a grand wave of his hand, he declared the feast over. A wave of disappointed sighs echoed throughout the Hall.
---
After the feast concluded, the students returned to their respective common rooms.
In the Ravenclaw common room, every conversation revolved around the Triwizard Tournament.
The moment Maurise walked in, he heard an older girl two years above him saying, "I think the most promising candidate is Maurise Black. Even though he is only a fourth year, that skeleton magic of his is truly incredible. I heard even Marcus Flint from Slytherin is terrified of him."
"Flint already graduated," Cho Chang pointed out from beside her. "Besides, I think Black's magic is a bit terrifying."
Terrifying? What was so terrifying about it?
Hearing this, Maurise paused his steps and gave his hand a gentle wave.
A skeletal soldier slowly materialized right beside Cho Chang, its bones rattling with a distinct clack clack sound.
Cho Chang froze instantly. She stood as still as a statue, looking as though she had been hit by a Full Body-Bind Curse.
Maurise walked over, patted the skeletal soldier's pelvis, and asked with utmost sincerity, "Do you not find him absolutely adorable?"
The common room was dead silent for several seconds. Everyone wore an expression that screamed, 'What on earth is this guy talking about?'
Finally, Cho Chang snapped back to reality and looked at Maurise helplessly. "Please stop scaring me, Maurise."
Maurise waved a hand, gesturing for the skeletal soldier to step aside. "Are you still not used to my skeletons?"
He frequently tinkered with his bony constructs in the common room, so the students here should have been intimately familiar with them by now.
"It has nothing to do with getting used to them," Cho Chang said, shaking her head. She glanced to the side and lowered her voice. "Plus, you are frightening them."
Maurise followed her gaze and noticed several first-year wizards huddled together, trembling in fear as they stared at his skeleton. This was especially true for the new students from Muggle families. They clearly had not yet adapted to the various wonders of the magical world, let alone a walking, autonomous skeleton.
Maurise's eyes lit up. This was actually a perfect opportunity.
Aesthetic appreciation had to be cultivated from a young age!
He immediately decided to properly showcase the beauty of his skeletal aesthetics to his new juniors.
Consequently, on their very first night at Hogwarts, the Ravenclaw first years experienced collective insomnia.
---
Maurise, on the other hand, slept wonderfully.
The next morning, he stepped out of the common room full of energy, heading toward the Great Hall for breakfast.
A few students were already wandering the corridors. As he descended the spiral staircase, he ran smack into Draco, along with his two rather dim-witted lackeys.
Draco clearly had no desire to speak with him. The moment he saw Maurise, his expression turned icy, and he turned sideways in an attempt to walk around him.
However, Maurise actively stepped into his path, blocking his way.
Draco halted and asked warily, "What do you want?"
"Just to be clear, I am not looking for trouble," Maurise smiled, his tone mild. "How is your father doing?"
Hearing this, Draco instantly tensed up, his body going rigid. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Crabbe and Goyle exchanged a clueless look behind him.
"Just asking."
"My father is perfectly fine," Draco said coldly. "No need for your concern."
"That is good." Maurise nodded and continued, "I am not sure if your father mentioned it to you, but he attacked me during the Quidditch World Cup. While defending myself, I cast a rather troublesome little spell on him. Are you sure he is alright?"
If Lucius had actually kicked the bucket, it would likely cause Maurise some trouble. Who knew if the Ministry of Magic would track him down through some obscure, specialized method? Although he considered his actions to be self-defense, having a murder charge hanging over his head was never a good thing.
Hearing this, Draco's face completely changed color. He yelled in a panic, "You are lying!"
The commotion even attracted the attention of students upstairs. A few heads poked over the banisters, peering down curiously.
"You should be able to judge for yourself whether I am lying or not," Maurise said calmly. "Since your father is fine, I bid you farewell."
"Wait!" Draco clenched his fists and asked in a low voice, "What magic did you use on my father?"
"Take a guess," Maurise smiled faintly.
'This despicable bastard!'
The rage burning in Draco's heart had reached its absolute peak. Exactly as Maurise had implied, his father had fallen severely ill immediately following the Quidditch World Cup. They had expended a massive amount of rare potions and hired numerous healers just to barely cure him.
More importantly, his father had refused to explain anything afterward, merely warning Draco not to ask too many questions.
So... so that was the reason!
"Your magic is absolutely nothing to my father," Draco spat, forcing the words out through clenched teeth. "Do not think you are so special, Black."
"Then I can rest easy," Maurise shook his head. "Goodbye."
He politely stepped aside and walked past Draco, his pace completely steady.
Draco stood rooted to the spot, silent for a long time. Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other in dismay, neither daring to speak first.