Gwyn Swann and the Goblet of Fire

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Fourteen: Start of the Tournament

Just as always, Gwyn settled back into life at the castle with no trouble, feeling already at home by the time that she had stepped into the front doors, adjusting to the classes—even though they were much harder this year than usual, much to Gwyn's surprise—and life with her friends. Already, the gossip about her and Harry had dwindled down so that she was only approached with questions about once a day instead of fifty times a day as it had been the first day back.

As promised, Gwyn had been tutoring Tristan in Charms for his O.W.L.s—since her skill level in that class was probably already at N.E.W.T. level—and got him caught up to where he was actually caught up with the rest of the class, plus teaching him some charms that would probably help for his test later in the year. He had thanked her practically on bended knee all week, eternally grateful for the help, and swore that all she had to do was name a favour and he would perform it without thinking twice.

Gwyn tried to tell him that it wasn't necessary, that she was more than happy to do it, but Tristan was still grateful to her and he wouldn't let it up until she promised that if she ever needed a favour, just to ask him.

Classes were a lot more difficult than they had been the previous year, with teachers piling on the homework with every lesson, but Defence Against the Dark Arts had been the worst, with Moody acting like they were going to get attacked by Death Eaters at any given moment, bursting in through the front doors and head straight for their Defence class. He had been preparing them with information about the Unforgivable Curses and then, a couple of weeks into the school year, Gwyn entered the classroom to find Moody announcing that he would be putting the Imperius Curse on each of them—just to let them know how it felt and how they reacted.

Gwyn blanched as soon as she heard that; she got cold chills just be seeing it performed; she wasn't sure that she wanted to know what it felt like—or even what her reaction would be to it.

But rather than argue with Moody, Gwyn just lined up next to the rest of her classmates, waiting anxiously as each of them were called forward to be put underneath the effects of the Imperius Curse. Hermione had protested that the curse was illegal, so Moody sent her away, much to her disappointment. Even though that it was against the law to perform upon another human, that didn't mean that Hermione wanted to leave the class, which was probably why she was sulking later.

No one in the class was able to throw off the curse until Harry was called to the front of the room. She held her breath, watching him as Moody directed him to jump onto the desk. His face was completely relaxed and peaceful, completely and utterly calm and happy, like she'd never seen him before.

But something flickered behind his eyes as he bent his knees, preparing himself to spring, something that she hadn't seen in anyone else yet, something that caused him to hesitate.

He's fighting it, Gwyn realised a split-second later. Come on, Harry, you can do it. Fight it off!

It came pretty close; he tried to stop himself from jumping, but he also tried to jump at the same time, resulting in him smashing into the desk head-on. A few people around them winced while everyone else looked very confused at what had just happened. Gwyn hurried forward to help her boyfriend up, who shook his head as the Imperius Curse was pulled off of him.

"Now that's more like it!" Moody exclaimed, looking very pleased. "Look at that, you lot . . . Potter fought! He fought it and he almost beat it! We'll try that again, Potter, and the rest of you, pay attention—watch his eyes, that's where you'll see it—very good, Potter, very good indeed! They'll have trouble controlling you!"

"Just concentrate on the voice," Gwyn whispered, though she wasn't really sure what that meant. By the look that he gave her, though, Gwyn was sure that Harry did. He nodded, letting go of her hand and stepping back, allowing Moody to put the curse back on him.

It took a couple more times, but Harry—eventually—was able to throw off the curse entirely, though Moody insisted on him jumping on the desk, which meant that he kept crashing into it and that meant that he was having trouble walking later on.

After Harry was able to throw off the curse, Gwyn was next. She bit her lip nervously as she stared at Moody, an uneasy feeling going through her stomach, a hint of foreboding surging through her body. Every inch of her was screaming, warning her that something was going to go very wrong with, to get out of the way before the curse hit.

She should have listened; Gwyn knew better than to not trust her instincts after three years of knowing she was a seer.

Instead of the blissful, happy feeling that Gwyn had seen on all of her classmates' faces as soon as the effects were underway, Gwyn felt something entirely different swift through her, banishing the uneasiness, but not creating the happiness that should have been underway.

Pain erupted inside of her mind, feeling as though needles were piercing her skull. Every inch of it was howling in anguish and Gwyn gasped aloud at the unexpected pain, stumbling backwards and crashing into one of the desks behind her.

A hiss escaped through her gritted teeth as Gwyn gripped her blonde hair tightly, trying to force the pain away from her. "Get out!" she whispered, her eyes narrowed to slits, tears of pain smearing her vision. "GET OUT!"

With enormous force, she shoved the intruder out of her mind, flinging him away from her mind and the pain disappeared completely before she heard a crash.

Looking up, she saw Moody was several feet away from where he had been when he had cast the curse and was supporting himself by one of the desks, which he had been flung into when Gwyn had banished the intruder from her mind. It took her a split second to realise that, somehow, she had flung him halfway across the room.

Exclamations erupted all around them and Gwyn suddenly felt Harry pulling her up, looking at her anxiously. "Are you okay?" he asked as a couple other students were helping Professor Moody up.

She nodded, though she was sure that she was white as a sheet. Her hands were shaking, though. "I'm fine," she assured him, though she didn't let go of him, not trusting herself to support her own weight.

What had just happened? Gwyn thought in panic, bewildered and very shaken. The Imperius Curse wasn't supposed to cause pain; it was for controlling people . . . they had the Cruciatus for torturing people . . . so why did it affect her like that?

Ron asked the same thing later, but she didn't have any more clue than her friends did. Apparently, Moody had told her to dance, not to act like she was being tortured, which was what had happened. It took until lunch for the after-effects to wear off.

But Hermione, of course, had the answer.

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it?" she said impatiently as they filled her in on the information of what she had missed after she'd been dismissed from class. "Gwyn is a seer. Her brain functions on a different level than most people and sees a lot more than everyone else does. It's not that surprising that she wouldn't be affected by the Imperius Curse—or at least, you wouldn't be able to be controlled by it," she added when Gwyn opened her mouth to speak. "I would guess that you felt Moody trying to invade your mind because that's exactly what the Imperius Curse does. And you were able to throw him out of your mind because you knew that he was there; you were able to fight him off more quickly because you didn't have to fight the effects of the curse as well."

"So is it going to be like this every time that someone tries to use the Imperius on me?" Gwyn asked, not looking forward to that. The mere thought of those needles piercing her skull made her head throb.

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know, but I'm guessing that you'll be able to learn how to shield yourself. This was the first time that you came into contact with it. The more times you fight it, the easier it gets, I would think."

"Let's hope so," Harry muttered as Hermione scooped up some books and began to work on her Ancient Runes homework. He shook his head, green eyes worried. "I almost had a heart attack when you dropped like that. You scared me, Gwyn."

"Now you know how I feel every time that you rush off to save the day, Harry Potter," she said, half-teasing as she pulled her Transfiguration notes out of her bag. "Come on, we'd better get started on our homework or else we'll never get done."

All of their classes had been increasing in the homework ever since the start of term, which McGonagall explained was because they needed the preparation for their O.W.L.s next year. Between the increased homework and the cemetery dreams that still plague her nightmares, it was a wonder that Gwyn got any sleep at all.

Still, it wasn't like they were going to have a particularly boring year, not with the Triwizard Tournament coming up; Gwyn wasn't entirely sure how she felt about that. Sure, it was bound to be exciting, but she was also worried about the "death toll" that Dumbledore had mentioned when he had explained what the Tournament entailed.

At the end of October, they were heading into the castle after Care of the Magical Creatures to find that there was an enormous crowd around the foot of the staircase, looking at a huge sign. Since none of them could get close enough to read it, Ron, who towered over all three of them, stood on his tiptoes so he could read it aloud.

THE TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT

THE DELEGATIONS FROM BEAUXBATONS AND DURMSTRANG WILL BE ARRIVING AT SIX O'CLOCK ON FRIDAY THE 30TH OF OCTOBER. LESSONS WILL END A HALF AN HOUR EARLY. STUDENTS WILL RETURN THEIR BAGS AND BOOKS TO THEIR DORMITORIES AND ASSEMBLE IN FRONT OF THE CASTLE TO GREET OUR GUESTS BEFORE THE WELCOMING FEAST.

Over the next few days, the only thing that seemed to be on everybody's minds was the Tournament, which Gwyn had sort of mixed feelings about. Sure, she would love to watch it; it was bound to be exciting, but she also had a weird feeling about it, like something bad was going to happen. It made her uneasy, but since she couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was, she kept her mouth shut about it.

All of the staff seemed to be thinking only of the Tournament, too. The castle was being thoroughly cleaned, as to impress their foreign guests, and Mr. Filch, the caretaker, lost his temper whenever anybody tracked in mud or messed up something in the castle. Gwyn had to comfort a couple first-years after they'd be scared out of their wits by him.

Soon enough, the thirtieth of October arrived and there was a feeling of anticipation and excitement hovering around the castle. Gwyn had a hard time concentrating on her lessons that day, too preoccupied with that evening, when the visitors were scheduled to arrive.

It felt like forever before they finally headed down to the Great Hall to wait patiently to greet their guests.

Okay . . . it was more like impatiently, after they'd been standing there for about an hour without any sign of them and the decreased temperatures starting to make them shiver.

Dusk had already fallen over them when Dumbledore called out, "Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!" Everyone looked wildly around, searching the forest, the skies, everywhere and anywhere to spot the guests.

"There!" Gwyn yelled, pointing towards the forest, where something very large was making its way towards them. She couldn't quite make out what it was . . .

"It's a dragon!" a first year screamed.

"Don't be stupid," Dennis Creevey corrected her. "It's a flying house!"

He wasn't actually far off, Gwyn reasoned as the thing came closer and closer, finally revealing itself to be an enormous light blue carriage with drawn by a dozen enormous horses, roughly the size of an elephant.

The reason for the enormity of the carriage became evident almost immediately as it landed right in front of them and one of the students jumped out to unfold a golden set of steps before stepping back respectfully. A woman descended from the carriage—the largest woman that Gwyn had ever seen before in her life. She was even bigger than Hagrid was and he was the largest person she'd ever seen before.

Everyone around Gwyn seemed to be taken aback by the abnormal size of the woman, too, for all of them were staring at her as Dumbledore began to clap in welcome. Taking his cue, the Hogwarts students broke into applause.

"My dear Madame Maxime," Dumbledore greeted her, kissed her hand as she extended it, though he barely had to bend forward due to her height, even though Dumbledore was by no means short. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dorr," Madame Maxime said in a thick, French accent. "I 'ope I find you well?"

"In excellent form, I thank you."

"My pupils," Madame Maxime said, gesturing towards the students that had gathered up behind her, all of them clad in light blue robes seemingly made of fine silk. A few of them were shivering, Gwyn noted as they looked up at Hogwarts apprehensively. "'As Karkaroff arrived yet?"

"He should be here any moment," Dumbledore informed her. "Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"

"Warm up, I think. But ze 'horses—"

"Our Care of Magical Creatures will be delighted to take care of them," Dumbledore assured her, "the moment that he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other—er—charges."

"Skrewts," Ron mumbled, receiving a glare from both Hermione and Gwyn, but he and Harry still grinned.

"Boys," Gwyn muttered, shaking her head. Hermione bit back a smile, returning her attention to Dumbledore and Maxime as the latter made her way into the castle, after giving the headmaster specific instructions about taking care of the horses.

"How big d'you reckon Durmstrang's horses are going to be?" Seamus wanted to know, looking around at them.

"If they're any bigger than this lot, even Hagrid won't be able to handle them," Harry said doubtfully. "That is if he hasn't been attacked by the skrewts. Wonder what's up with them?"

"Maybe they've escaped," Ron said hopefully.

"No," Gwyn said without thinking. "They've just gotten so big that they're trying to kill each other." She received a few odd looks from the students who'd overheard her and she blushed, exchanging a look with Harry, who just grinned at her.

"Can you hear something?" Ron asked suddenly. Gwyn strained her ears, listening closely. There was a slight rumbling noise coming from somewhere very close.

"The lake!" Lee Jordon shouted. "Look at the lake!"

Gwyn's head snapped over to where he had indicated, staring across the lake, where bubbles had begun to emerge from the very centre, creating waves that pulsed towards the edge as a whirlpool began to appear and something began to appear . . . a long pole . . .

"It's a mast!" Harry exclaimed as the rigging appeared.

Sure enough, a ship began making its way above the surface, breaking through the water and moving towards the bank. Gwyn could just barely make out people aboard, working to dock the ship. An anchor was thrown aside and a plank was pushed so that they could climb down to land.

One by one, they began to climb up. Upon first glance, Gwyn thought that they were all fairly large, but as they moved closer, she realized that all of them wore bulky cloaks, made of fur.

As soon as she laid eyes on the man who was leading them, Gwyn immediately disliked him. She couldn't put her finger on what it was exactly, but she knew he couldn't be trusted.

"Dumbledore," he greeted. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore said, smiling.

Karkaroff looked up at the castle reminiscently. "Dear old Hogwarts," he said with a smile that didn't quite suit him. "How good it is to be here . . . how good. . . . Viktor, come along, into the warmth . . . you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold . . ."

Beckoning to one of his students, Karkaroff led him into the castle. The boy was seventeen or so, with a curved nose and thick, black eyebrows Gwyn blinked, recognizing him at once.

"Blimey, it's him!" Ron whispered excitedly as they made their way into the castle. "Viktor Krum!"