The Great Hall buzzed with excitement as students filed in for the opening feast of the new term. Harry Potter, already seated at the Ravenclaw table with his friends, couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. The journey to the castle had been marked by a torrential downpour, but thanks to magic, they had all arrived dry and comfortable.
Roger Davies, one of Harry's closest friends, leaned in with an eager grin. "So, Harry, are you ready for this year's Quidditch Cup? You promised you'd join the team, and with you on board, we're practically guaranteed the win!"
Harry's lips quirked into a small smile. "Actually, Roger, I hate to break it to you, but there won't be a Quidditch Cup this year."
Roger's face fell. "What? Are you serious?"
"No! That is my godfather." This got a glare from Roger and the nearby Reggy. Harry laughed at successfully using the overused joke.
"Well, I am telling the truth. We're hosting a special tournament," Harry explained, his voice low. "I'm sure Dumbledore will announce it soon. Those dress robes on our school list? They're for this event."
As if on cue, the Sorting Hat burst into its annual song, followed by the sorting of the new first-years. Throughout the sorting, Harry's attention kept drifting to the staff table, particularly to the grizzled figure of Mad-Eye Moody.
Something was off. In the timeline Harry remembered from the canon plot, Moody had made a dramatic entrance, interrupting the feast. But here he sat, already at the table, not dramatically swigging from a hip flask every few minutes. Harry's suspicions grew. Was this even Barty Crouch Jr. in disguise? The lack of constant drinking suggested this wasn't someone using Polyjuice Potion.
Harry's mind raced. If this wasn't Crouch Jr., where was he? Was he not rescued by Voldemort? How would the events he remembered unfold? How would Charles's name end up in the Goblet of Fire? How would Voldemort manage to spirit Charles away for the resurrection ritual?
As Harry pondered these questions, Moody's magical eye swiveled in his direction. Quickly, Harry averted his gaze, turning his attention back to his friends and the feast before him. Things were not looking good as Harry was going in blind this year. He would have to be on his toes to make and change plans according to the situation.
Once the plates had been cleared and the last echoes of conversation died down, Dumbledore rose to his feet. The hall fell silent.
"So!" Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling as he smiled at the sea of students before him. "Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention while I give out a few notices."
He proceeded with the usual start-of-term announcements, introducing Professor Moody as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Then, with a slight pause for effect, he continued, "It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."
A chorus of protests erupted from around the hall. Harry caught Roger's eye and mouthed, "Told you so," as his friend's face fell in disappointment.
Dumbledore raised his hands for silence. "This is due to an event that will be starting in October and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy — but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts, we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."
"You're JOKING!" came a loud voice from the Gryffindor table. Harry recognized it as belonging to Fred Weasley.
Dumbledore chuckled. "I am not joking, Mr. Weasley, though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar..."
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly, shooting Dumbledore a stern look.
"Er — but maybe this is not the time... no..." Dumbledore quickly sobered. "Where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament..."
For the next several minutes, Dumbledore explained the history and nature of the Triwizard Tournament. He spoke of the three participating schools — Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang — and how they would be arriving in October for the selection of champions.
"The champion for each school," Dumbledore explained, his voice carrying across the silent hall, "will be chosen by an impartial judge which will be announced later. The judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."
A murmur of excitement rippled through the crowd at the mention of the thousand-Galleon prize money. Even Roger was excited, and as Harry turned towards Cedric in the distance, he could see he was excited as well. Harry, however, remained silent, his mind already planning his move forward. Harry was not worried about his other friends since there was less chance of them being selected. Cedric and Roger had changed a lot from the canon due to his influence and there was a high chance one of them would get selected. It looked like Harry had to intervene in this tournament to ensure his friends would not be in danger and Cedric would not die like in the canon.
Dumbledore then spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more.
"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age — that is to say, seventeen years or older — will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This" — Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious — "is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred's and George's mutinous faces. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen."
As Dumbledore concluded his announcement, wishing them all a good night's rest before classes began the next day, the hall erupted into a cacophony of scraping benches and excited chatter. Students began filing out, their heads filled with dreams of glory and gold.
Harry caught Cedric's eye across the hall. The Hufflepuff prefect gave him a subtle nod, a signal Harry recognized immediately. Gathering Roger and Reggy, he made his way towards Cedric. They were soon joined by the rest of their group — Elvinia, Arabella, Angelina, and Alicia.
"Empty classroom?" Cedric suggested, and the group nodded in agreement.
As they filed into an unused classroom near the Great Hall, Harry's mind was already racing with plans to deal with the new unexpected developments with the missing Barty Crouch Junior. It looked like he had to change his plans regarding the Triwizard tournament.