Chapter 471: Triwizard Tournament

Normally, when a new teacher meets everyone, everyone applauds in welcome, but now, apart from Dumbledore and Hagrid, no teacher or student claps. Dumbledore and Hagrid gave a few claps, realized the applause echoed lonely in the silent hall, and, amused, lowered their hands. The others seemed stunned by Moody's odd appearance, staring at him without blinking.

"I recall Moody being an old wizard, or perhaps one with boundless magic," Bai Lang muttered, "Cow dung and cow urine cure all ailments, life is endless joy." On the other side, Harry and Ron had different views—Ron knew he was a legendary Auror, Harry did not. Dumbledore cleared his throat. "As I just said," he said with a smile, looking at the many students before him—who were still staring blankly at the crazy‑eyed Moody—"in the coming months we will have the great honor of hosting a spectacular event that hasn't been held for over a century. I am delighted to tell everyone that the Triwizard Tournament will take place at Hogwarts this year."

The hall then erupted; almost all the students—those from the magical world—were thrilled, while Harry, who grew up in the Muggle world, seemed to have no idea what this event was about.

Kindly, Dumbledore began to explain: "The Triwizard Tournament was founded roughly seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition among the three largest European magical schools. Those schools are Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. Each school selects a champion, and the three champions compete in three magical tasks. The Tournament is held every five years, with the schools rotating as hosts. Everyone agreed it was an excellent way for young wizards from different nations to forge friendships—but later, the death toll became too high, and the Tournament was discontinued."

"For centuries, people have tried several times to revive the Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "but none succeeded. However, the Ministry of Magic's International Magical Cooperation Department and Magical Sports Department believe the time is ripe for another attempt. This summer we have done a lot of work to ensure that no champion will face mortal danger." Dumbledore said, Hermione Granger grew very nervous at the mention of deaths, while Harry, like Bai Lang, was completely uninterested in the people who died over a hundred years ago.

"In October, the heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will lead their carefully selected competitors here, and the ceremony to choose the champion will be held on Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most qualified to vie for the Triwizard Cup, bring honor to their school, and each will receive a prize of 1,000 galleons." Bai Lang sneered, "just a paltry 1,000 galleons..." Yet upon hearing the amount, "I'm in!" Fred Weasley roared.

"I know you all yearn to win the Triwizard Tournament cup for Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, "but the participating schools and the Ministry of Magic agree that we must set an age limit for this year's competitors. Only students who are at least seventeen—meaning seventeen or older—are allowed to register for consideration. We think," he glanced at those who looked like the Weasley brothers, "this measure is necessary, because the Tournament's tasks remain arduous and dangerous; no matter how many precautions we take, students below sixth or seventh year simply cannot handle them. I personally will ensure that no under‑age student deceives our impartial judges to become Hogwarts' champion."

"Therefore, if you are under seventeen, I ask you not to waste time applying," Dumbledore said. In his words, Bai Lang heard a malicious tone, like an old bastard enjoying the show—almost as if saying, "Go ahead and cheat, friends, let me see how many ways you can cheat!"

"The Beauxbatons and Durmstrang delegations will arrive in October and spend most of the school year with us. I know that while our foreign guests are here, you will be warm and friendly, and once Hogwarts' champion is finally chosen, you will wholeheartedly support him or her. Well, it's getting late, and it's important that you walk into tomorrow's classes refreshed and clear‑headed. Go to bed! Quickly!"

Bai Lang was the first to leave; while the Weasley brothers were still fuming, Hermione Granger was still worrying about the dead, and Ron was still dizzy over the 1,000 galleons, Bai Lang had already exited the hall.

The new semester's curriculum is the same as before, only the magical plants and Magical Creatures we encounter are a bit more disgusting, and Bai Lang thought Hagrid's so‑called blasting snail was unbearably foul, hard to believe Hagrid actually kept one. Of course, Bai Lang still flunked Divination, and it wasn't until dinner time, when Draco Malfoy again used The Daily Prophet to start provoking Ron Weasley that things became interesting.

Bai Lang clutched his wand, grinning as he stood aside watching the squabble among the young wizards—Harry joined in, and both sides quickly devolved to the level of insulting each other's mothers. Malfoy seemed the one who couldn't hold back; after Harry turned, he aimed a spell at Harry—but missed. "His skill is terrible; how can he miss at such close range?" Bai Lang commented.

Zabini was a little worried. "Oh, it's fine. I don't think Malfoy will use Unforgivable Curses," Bai Lang said, "especially since we have a professor, don't we?" Accompanied by a low voice, Malfoy turned into a white weasel, trembling and lying on the floor.

The entrance hall was terrifyingly silent. Except for Moody, no one dared move. Moody turned his face toward Harry—at least his normal eye looked at Harry, while the other eye seemed to pierce into his brain. "Did he hurt you?" Moody asked angrily, his voice low and hoarse. Then he began tormenting the unlucky Malfoy white weasel, making it fly up and fall down—this continued until Professor McGonagall arrived and stopped it.

"Huh, so he's a Death Eater after all," Bai Lang muttered silently. This impostor Moody was indeed a Death Eater through and through—especially fond of torturing people. All the Gryffindor students relished Malfoy's plight and were amused, and Malfoy's final vague "Tell me about my father" also gave everyone plenty of fun.

It wasn't until Thursday's Defence Against the Dark Arts class that Bai Lang saw the professor again—by then Ron and Harry had already been itching for the lessons the older students were talking about. Indeed, this man, though a Death Eater at heart, might actually be the true wizard who taught them how to defend against dark magic; apart from Lupin, the indifferent fellow, perhaps only he could truly be called a Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.

He began by having the students recite the Unforgivable Curses...