Section I

In the long, dark foyer, torches cast an ancient, mysterious light on the marble staircase, and the students were drenched, water dripping down their hair and robes, making the already slippery floor even worse.

Sauron walked among the students, slowly moving with the flow of people, his narrow pupils gleaming, scanning his surroundings aimlessly. There seemed to be a commotion on the other side of the crowd, and he looked up to see the prankster Peeves floating twenty feet above their heads. He was short and wore a hat with a bell and an orange bow tie.

"Peeves!" An angry voice shouted, "Peeves, get me down!" ”

Professor McGonagall, Vice-Chancellor and Head of Gryffindor House, rushed out of the auditorium. The ground was so wet that she slipped under her feet, and she quickly grabbed the student next to her so that she didn't fall.

"Peeves, you come down for me now!" Professor McGonagall yelled, her peaked top hat on her head and glaring through her square-rimmed glasses.

"I didn't do anything!" Peeves giggled, and threw another water bomb at the fifth-graders, who screamed and rushed into the auditorium, "They're already wet anyway, right?" Hey, little furry boy! Eat me a shot! He picked up another water bomb and threw it into the crowd below.

This time, however, the water bomb didn't land in the crowd - it stopped abruptly above the panicked students, and then flew back backwards at a faster speed under the surprised gaze of everyone.

"Oh, shit—" Before Peeves could finish his sentence, a water bomb slammed into his broad ugly face, freezing him into a large block of ice as everyone watched in amazement. Apparently, ice can't fly, so the frozen Peeves stumbles straight into the air and shatters into several pieces like a comical sculpture.

For a moment, everyone around them looked at Peeves' broken pieces in a daze, but after Professor McGonagall conjured up a few broomsticks and swept the still chilling pieces into the corners of the hallway, the brief farce ended, and the students walked into the hall one after another, and no one worried about the death of Peeves piled up in the corner - after all, he was dead, and he wouldn't die again, but even if he did die from then on, no one would feel the slightest regret.

The auditorium is still as splendid and magnificent, and it has been specially decorated for the banquet of the new semester. Hundreds of candles float above the table, illuminating golden plates and goblets. The four long college tables were already filled with twittering students. At the front of the auditorium there was a fifth table, and the faculty and staff sat one by one on one side of the table, facing their students.

Sauron sat his old seat at the Slytherin table as usual, flanked by the Slytherin prefects and Draco, and Isabella sat across from him. Sauron's gaze swept across the sides of the table, and most of the people looked away with a slight panic at the sight of Sauron's eyes. Sauron didn't care, though, as he noticed that there were a lot of familiar faces missing from the table, who had graduated last year and entered society with the imprint of Slytherin House; Soon after, a new group of students will join the Slytherin team, where they will complete the transformation from ignorant children to young wizards. In this cycle of years, the Slytherin faction has thrived as a community of interests, and has been able to thrive in this jungle-like dark and cruel magical world.

Bloody Barrow floated around the Slytherin table—a ghost of Slytherin House, his thin body covered in silver-white blood, and he had always been silent, just quietly observing his surroundings, as he had done for so long years. Regarding Barrow the Bloody, Sauron speculates that he and Peeves may have been in a master-servant relationship during his lifetime, as he was the only person in Hogwarts who could actually control Peeves.

Thinking of Peeves, Sauron subconsciously looked at the Gryffindor table on the other side of the auditorium, and saw his twin brother sitting in his seat talking to the others. Someone had just frozen Peeves in the foyer, and perhaps others didn't know who did it, but Sauron knew very well that it was Harry. It has to be said that the speed at which Harry has advanced in magic has surprised Sauron, after all, freezing a living person and freezing a ghost are completely different things, and being able to do the latter lightly shows that Harry has truly touched that realm that many wizards find difficult to achieve in their lifetimes.

Although Sauron had expected what had happened or was about to happen to Harry, the anxiety and contradictions in his heart did not diminish in the slightest, and he knew that Harry would embark on the same path as himself, experiencing the same despair and pain as himself. Sauron was well aware of the power hidden in Harry's soul, which meant that the price to be paid would be horribly high.

At this moment, the door of the auditorium opened, and the hall immediately fell silent. Sauron turned around to see Professor McGonagall leading a long line of first-year students to the top of the auditorium. If most of the students were soaking wet, compared to these first-year freshmen, it was nothing at all. Look at them as if they were not on a ferry, but swimming from the lake. They stood in a row along the staff's desks, paused and faced the whole school.

At this point, Professor McGonagall placed a three-legged stool on the ground in front of the freshmen, and placed a tattered, dirty, patched wizard's hat on top of the stool. All the students looked at it, and for a moment, there was silence in the auditorium. Then a crack near the brim of the hat opened like a mouth, and the hat suddenly began to sing:

That was more than a thousand years ago.

I've just been woven into shape,

There are four famous wizards,

Their names have survived to this day:

……

The Sorting Hat's song was as unpleasant and boring as ever, and when the shriveled and rough song was over, Professor McGonagall unfolded a large roll of parchment.

"When I call someone's name, they put their hat on their head and sit on a stool," she said to the first-year students, "and when the hat announces the house, they go and sit at the corresponding table." ”

"Stuart Ackley!"

A boy stepped forward and could be seen shaking from head to toe. He took the Sorting Hat, put it on his head, and sat down on the stool.

"Ravenclaw!" The Sorting Hat shouted.

Stuart Ackley took off his hat and hurried to a seat at the Ravenclaw table, where everyone applauded him.

"Malcolm Bardock!"

"Slytherin!"

There was also applause at the Slytherin table to welcome the newcomers, but Sauron could also hear the cheers, and he didn't have to think it was coming from the Gryffindors sitting on the other side of the auditorium—the two houses had long looked at each other, both inside and outside the school. However, Sauron didn't care about this, just took advantage of the sorting ceremony to look at the teacher's seat on the high platform, it didn't seem to have changed much, but Sauron noticed that there was an empty seat on the seat, which should be reserved for the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, and on the other side of the table, Snape's face was gloomy, and he didn't know if it was because he couldn't teach this class or something else......

Section II

The ceremony proceeded in a step-by-step manner, until the last student, Kevin Whitby, was assigned to Hufflepuff, and Professor McGonagall picked up the Sorting Hat and small stool and took them away. At this point, Dumbledore stood up, looked at all his classmates with a smile, and opened his arms in a welcoming gesture.

"I have only two words to say to you," he said, and his deep voice echoed through the Great Hall, "Eat! ”

The empty plates on the table were suddenly magically filled with food, and the hungry students, who had been tossed by the day's journey, were happy to eat and treat their stomachs beautifully.

Finally, when the dessert had been swept away, the last remaining crumbs of the plate were gone, and the plate was clean and shiny again, Dumbledore stood up again. The humming of the hall suddenly stopped, and only the beating of the wind and heavy rain could be heard.

"That's it!" Dumbledore looked at everyone with a smile and said, "Now that we're all well fed and drunk, I must ask for everyone's attention once again, and I'm going to announce a few notices. ”

"Mr. Filch, the janitor, wants me to tell you that this year there are several more items that are forbidden in the castle, namely screaming balls, toothed saucers, and combo darts. The whole list of about four hundred and thirty-seven items can be seen in Mr. Filch's office, and those interested can check it out. ”

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched a few times.

He continued: "As before, I would like to remind everyone that the Forbidden Forest on the other side of the field is not accessible to students, and Hogsmeade Village is not allowed to be visited by students below the third grade. ”

"I would also like to tell you that there will be no House Cup Quidditch this year."

"What?" The entire Great Hall was filled with astonishment, and many of them stared at Dumbledore with their mouths wide open, as if speechless in astonishment. Dumbledore continued, "This is because a big event will start in October and will continue throughout the school year, taking up a lot of the teachers' time and energy - but I'm sure you'll all have a lot of fun with it. It is my great pleasure to announce that this year at Hogwarts—"

Just then, there was a deafening thunderclap, and the door to the auditorium slammed open.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning on a long cane and wrapped in a black travel cloak. Everyone in the auditorium turned their heads to look at the stranger, and suddenly a fork of lightning streaked across the ceiling, causing many to let out a disturbed inhalation.

The lightning illuminated the man's face vividly—it seemed carved out of a piece of decaying wood, and the carver had only a vague idea of what a face should look like, and he was not very adept at using a carving knife. Every inch of skin on his face seemed to be scarred, his mouth was like a large, crooked mouth, and the place where his nose should have bulged was missing, but the most disturbing detail on the whole face was his eyes.

One of his eyes was small, black, and shiny; The other eye was large, round like a coin, and a vivid bright blue. The blue eye moved and motioned without blinking, up and down, left and right, completely unrelated to the normal eye—and then, when the blue eye rolled over and burrowed into the man's head, one could only see a large white eyeball.

Sauron stared at this man, his eyes cold - this was Mad Eye Moody, a legend among the Aurors who had personally arrested many dark wizards, many of whom were extremely dangerous, and until he retired years ago, half of Azkaban's cells were filled by him.

Sauron was no stranger to this ugly face, and could even be said to be impressed. Years ago, it was the man in front of him who chased him after him like an old dog, and finally sent him to the judgment seat of the Wizengamot. But the Mad Eye also paid a terrible price - although Sauron was not as powerful as he is today, his power was just as dangerous and deadly, and he left a terrible wound on the Mad Eye, and if it weren't for Dumbledore's action, the Mad Eye would have died.

The Mad-Eye walked over to Dumbledore. He stretched out his right hand, which was as scarred as his face. Dumbledore shook his hand and whispered something as if asking something, but the Mad-Eye shook his head without a smile and replied in a low voice. Dumbledore nodded, motioning for him to sit in an empty seat on the right.

The mad-eyed man sat down, shook his head, and shook his long gray hair away from his face, then pulled over a plate of sausages and raised it to his mutilated nose and sniffed it. He took a knife from his pocket, poked it through one end of a sausage, and ate it. His normal eyes were staring at the sausage, but the blue eye was still spinning around in the sockets, looking at the auditorium and the students, and for a moment, his gaze was on Sauron, and although he quickly moved away, Sauron was clearly aware of the change in the expression on the Mad-Eyed Man's face at that moment.

"Allow me to introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," Dumbledore happily broke the silence, "Professor Moody. ”

Normally, when a new teacher arrives, everyone applauds, but now there is no teacher or student applauding except for Dumbledore and Hagrid. Dumbledore and Hagrid slapped their hands a few times, and when they noticed that the applause was lonely echoing in the silent Great Hall, they lowered their hands in amusement. The others seemed stunned by Moody's strange appearance and stared at him intently.

However, the Mad-Eye seemed indifferent to everyone's cold reaction. Ignoring the large jar of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached into his travel cloak, pulled out a curved wine bottle, and took a large sip. As he raised his arm to drink, the cloak he dragged on the ground was pulled up a few inches, revealing a few inches of carved wooden prosthetic legs, and underneath it was a claw-shaped foot.

At this point, Dumbledore cleared his throat, which sounded exceptionally clear in the quiet halls.

"As I said," he said, smiling as he looked at the crowd of students in front of him, who were still staring blankly at Mad-Eyed Moody, "in the coming months we will be honored to host a wonderful event that has not been held in more than a century." It is my pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be held at Hogwarts this year. ”

"You're kidding!" At Gryffindor's table, Fred Weasley shouted.

The tension that had been hanging over the auditorium since Moody's entered was shattered. Almost everyone laughed out loud, and Blído chuckled appreciatively.

"I'm not kidding, Mr. Weasley," he said, "but since you mentioned joking, I heard a funny joke about a troll, a dominatrix, and a leprechaun, all of whom went into the same tavern......"

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Oh - that's probably not the right thing to say now...... Not quite right......" said Dumbledore, "where did I just go?" Ah, by the way, Triwizard Tournament...... Some of you don't know what this tournament is all about, so I hope those of you who know the situation will forgive me for explaining a little here, and I will allow their minds to wander away for a moment. ”

"The Triwizard Tournament was founded about seven hundred years ago and is a kind of friendship competition between the three largest schools of magic and magic in Europe. The three schools are: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. Each school selects a champion, and then three warriors compete in three magical projects. Held every five years, the Triwizard Tournament is hosted by the three schools in turn, and it is agreed that it is a great way for young wizards from different countries to forge friendships - but later, the death toll is so high that the Triwizard Tournament is interrupted. ”

Speaking of this, Dumbledore paused slightly, and his calm gaze swept across the hall.

"Over the centuries, there have been several attempts to revive the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "but none of them have been successful. However, we, the Department of International Magical Cooperation and the Department of Magical Sports at the Ministry of Magic, believe that the time is ripe for another attempt. We've done a lot of work this summer to make sure every warrior doesn't put their lives in danger. ”

"In October, the principals of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will come with their carefully selected contenders, and the ceremony to select the champions will take place on Halloween. An impartial referee will decide which students are most qualified to compete for the Triumph Cup, win honours for their school, and personally receive a prize of 1,000 Galleons. ”

For a moment, there was a burst of excitement in the hall, and it was clear that Dumbledore's words had aroused the enthusiasm of the students, and in front of the tables in each house, people could be seen either looking at Dumbledore feverishly or whispering excitedly to their neighbors. But Dumbledore spoke again, and the Great Hall fell silent again.

"I know you're all eager to win Triwizard trophies for Hogwarts," he said, "but the participating schools and the Ministry of Magic agree that there is an age limit for this year's contenders. Only students who are at least seventeen years of age - that is, over seventeen years of age - are allowed to register for consideration. We felt," Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, as some of them protested angrily at his words, "this measure is necessary, because the project of the tournament is still very difficult and dangerous, and no matter how much precautions we take, it is impossible for students below the sixth or seventh grade to deal with it." I myself will ensure that no student of sufficient age will deceive our impartial referees into becoming Hogwarts warriors. His gaze swept across the hall once more, his blue eyes shining meaningfully, "Therefore, if you are under the age of seventeen, I beg you not to waste your time in applying." ”

"The Beauxbatons and Durmstrang delegations will arrive in October and will spend most of the school year with us. I know that you will all be warm and friendly to our foreign guests during their stay here, and that you will wholeheartedly support Hogwarts Warriors once they are finally chosen. Well, it's not early, and it's important that you walk into class tomorrow morning feeling refreshed and clear-headed. Go to bed! Come on! ”

Dumbledore sat down and turned to talk to Moody the Mad-Eye. The cafeteria clicked and ping-pong, and the students stood up and flocked to the two open doors and into the foyer.

Sauron walked towards the door as well, Isabella followed him, and before exiting the door, Sauron glanced back in the direction of the teacher's chair, where Dumbledore and Mad-Eye and the other professors were talking. A slight sneer appeared on Sauron's lips, and he turned and walked into the darkness of the entrance hall.