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Chapter 475: The Lowered Age Limit
🕑 Added 2025-02-10 13:20:45 +0000 UTCThe Sorting Hat worked with impressive efficiency, and within about half an hour, the Sorting was complete. Finally, with Kevin Whitby sorted into Hufflepuff, the ceremony came to an end.
Dumbledore stood up, his eyes twinkling as he surveyed the students. “Eat,” he said simply.
Instantly, the empty plates before them were piled high with food.
Mikel served himself a generous helping of mashed potatoes, shaking his head in wonder. “I’ve seen it so many times, but it still amazes me every time the food just appears like that.”
“Hogwarts tradition,” Kyle said, grinning as he piled steak and ham onto his own plate.
As they dug into the delicious meal, they continued their conversation about enchanting the boats, even drafting a rough price list: one hundred Galleons per boat. It was a steep figure for students who hadn’t even graduated, but they could always negotiate if it came to that.
When the main meal ended, Kyle helped himself to a Yorkshire pudding from the dessert options. Unlike the syrup-laden pies, it was just the right amount of sweetness—perfect for a final bite.
After the feast, the remaining food vanished, and the plates magically cleaned themselves, gleaming once more. Dumbledore rose to his feet, and the hall gradually quieted, all eyes on the Headmaster.
As usual, Dumbledore ran through a few standard rules, like reminding first-years that the Forbidden Forest was off-limits. His list of banned items was a little longer this year, including new additions from Zonko’s Joke Shop, such as Nose-Biting Teacups, Ever-Bashing Boomerang, and Biting Quills—all products that had come out the previous year. The total count of forbidden items had now reached a staggering 437.
It was hard to deny that Fred and George had a hand in that number. Conservatively speaking, they were responsible for at least a hundred entries on the list.
“And now,” Dumbledore continued, “I regret to inform you that there will be no Quidditch matches this year!”
The hall erupted in disbelief and outrage, with students loudly voicing their complaints and looking at Dumbledore in shock. But before Dumbledore could explain, the doors to the Great Hall suddenly burst open.
A man appeared in the doorway, leaning heavily on a long walking stick and limping toward the teachers’ table. Every eye in the hall turned to watch him as he made his way forward, each of his steps echoing through the room with a hollow thud.
A flash of forked lightning streaked across the enchanted ceiling, illuminating his face. Gasps rippled through the Great Hall.
The man’s face was a network of scars, so dense that hardly any unmarked skin remained. But it wasn’t his scars that drew the most attention—it was his eyes.
One eye was a normal, piercing gaze, but the other was enormous, round like a coin, and bright blue.
“Oh, it's Mad-Eye!” someone whispered instinctively as the scarred man entered. Almost immediately, the blue eye in the man’s head swiveled upward as though it had heard the speaker and was looking directly at them—even from behind. The student shrank back, eyes wide.
The man continued his limping journey to the teachers’ table, where he leaned in to speak quietly with Dumbledore. After a brief exchange, he settled into an empty chair.
Dumbledore turned to the students with a smile. “Allow me to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor: Professor Alastor Moody!”
But the announcement was met with an uncomfortable silence. No applause came from the students, save for a few half-hearted claps from Dumbledore and Hagrid. The atmosphere was even colder than the year Professor Lupin had been introduced. At the Hufflepuff table, Kyle discreetly glanced down at the Marauder’s Map in his hands.
From the moment Moody entered the hall, Kyle had opened the map, but to his surprise, Moody’s name didn’t appear on it, and none of the markers moved to indicate his presence. It was as though Moody didn’t exist on the map, or more precisely, as if he’d used a spell to make himself unplottable.
Kyle was aware that the wizarding world held several charms related to making one’s name untraceable, most famously used by Voldemort. For an old Auror as cautious as Moody, it wasn’t surprising that he might use something similar to keep himself off the radar. If anything, seeing Moody’s name absent from the map reassured Kyle that it probably was the real Mad-Eye, just as paranoid as ever.
Satisfied, Kyle put away the map and looked back toward the teachers’ table. Dumbledore, noticing the uneasy silence, decided to move things along.
“Now, let us continue with our previous topic,” Dumbledore said. “The reason we have canceled the Quidditch matches this year is that, in the coming months, we will be hosting an event that has not been held for over a century. I am pleased to announce that this year, the Triwizard Tournament will take place at Hogwarts!”
For a brief moment, stunned silence filled the hall, only to be shattered by an explosion of chatter and excitement.
“You’re joking…”
“The Triwizard Tournament? Here?!”
“Oh, By Merlin, that’s incredible!”
Older students excitedly explained to the younger ones what the tournament entailed. The Triwizard Tournament, exclusive to Europe’s biggest wizarding schools, was a historic event that even the Quidditch World Cup couldn’t match in grandeur and mystique. Students buzzed with anticipation, practically bouncing in their seats.
Dumbledore chuckled softly. “I’m not joking. For those who may be unfamiliar, the Triwizard Tournament is a friendly competition between Europe’s three largest wizarding schools—Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang.”
He went on to explain the origins of the tournament and its often perilous history, noting the many dangers and the number of past deaths. Most students listened eagerly, undeterred by tales of mortal peril.
When Dumbledore announced the prize—a thousand Galleons for the winner—the excitement hit a fever pitch. Students shouted with enthusiasm, nearly rattling the enchanted ceiling overhead.
“I know many of you would love to represent Hogwarts,” Dumbledore continued. “However, the Ministry of Magic and the participating schools have agreed that there will be an age restriction for this year’s competitors. Only students who have reached the age of fifteen will be permitted to sign up.”
He raised his voice as groans of protest spread through the hall. “This decision is necessary. Despite every precaution, students younger than fifth year are not likely to have the skill or experience to handle the challenges. This is for your safety.”
“Oh, come on!” groaned a boy at the Hufflepuff table, pounding his fist in frustration. “I’m only a few months short… couldn’t they push back the cutoff to December?”
“Ha, lucky for me,” Mikel said cheerfully. “My birthday’s in March, so I’ll just make it. Kyle, you must be fifteen by now, right?”
Kyle, momentarily distracted by the buzz around him, looked up. “What? Oh, yes—I turned fifteen last month.”
