✧ETERNAL GLORY✧

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The anticipation in the Great Hall was deafening, Cara was sure she could feel it thumping in her heart with how anxious everyone seemed to be. Hardly any professor could teach their lessons without having to pause for interruptions. Rumors were spreading left and right, and the majority were about either Beaxbatons or Ilvermorny—Though a fair few focused on who would come from Durmstrang, as a certain Quidditch player had the chance of attending Hogwarts this year.

She took Romulus' advice to stay away from the rumors sprouting left and right. But it was difficult all things considering, especially when the better part of the population was still going at it.

"Doesn't do any good to fill your head full of this, Cara." She shrugged her shoulder but ducked her book back under the table. She wasn't feeling all that hungry but it was a requirement to attend in order to greet the schools.

Though she doubted any professor would really be on the lookout for missing students, not when everyone seemed to be readily excited.

Seeing Dumbledore approach the podium once more had caused students to scramble into position— "Please join me in welcoming the lovely ladies of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic!" The sudden whisp of music had begun from the ceiling, it was both whimsical and light as girls in rather paper thing goes took the elegant strides into the courtyard.

One by one they took to passing by the benches down in following their headmistress, all while following a very graceful and synchronized pattern. "They aren't going to survive the winter, goddess..." Imara mumbled, but no wizard in the room could move their gaze from the French gal's arses.

And she narrowed her own eyes towards Fred across the ways, his eyes lingering on the new girls for a bit too long for her liking.

Romulus chuckled, it was safe to say that the Gryffindor was screwed.

However his attention had moved onwards towards another Beauxbatons member, and while young—Didn't look like a student. Her eyes seemed to be scanning the halls and once they had landed on him and those around him, he caught her victorious smile before looking straight up ahead towards the rest of her group.

Before Cara could question what that was all about, Dumbledore had announced the next school— "And now... our friends from the north! Please greet the proud sons of Durmstrang!" The attention was drawn to a much louder noise, the rough bellow of their voice caused Cara to nearly jump out of her seat. But remained sitting as she caught the sparks from their sticks every time it was tapped down onto the ground.

"Brilliant..." She whispered, and Imara felt herself smirking beside her sister in being the presence of Northman. As Dumbledore had greeted the Headmaster Karkaroff at the front, it was then that the excitement truly sprung into the Lestrange family's hearts.

"And now...To make history of being the fourth contestant of this tournament, it's our delight to welcome our sister school from across the pond. Ilvermorny...And their placed Headmaster Eli Crawford." The smiles had brightened tenfold as the Lestrange siblings had started clapping, regardless if they could see the better part of those in the crowd.

It was hard to miss the Halliwell brothers up in the front, their eyes met briefly as they followed Mr.Crawford. They had no alluring dance or show to perform, no, they simply separated themselves by house with a banner splitting between them.

Nothing loud or pompous, and it had lowered the crowd's adrenalin as they scanned the crowd of both witches and wizards. Whispers sprouted as they too had the similar construct as Hogwarts had.

"How do you think they plan to split us all up now?" Imara whispered, and Romulus being a Prefect was starting to think logistically of how many rooms would be in each.

"Sure they'll open up another part of the castle or something, this is too many students for sure." They nodded, but Imara had caught his arm—Knowing that the commotion is too much to talk over. She leaned forward and asked who the woman from Beauxbatons.

"Not sure, she looks familiar...Doesn't she?" Even Cara had nodded and caught the woman's eyes once more before Dumbledore had greeted Crawford. It wasn't as familiar as the rest, as the wizard was the Headmaster of Salem and not Ilvernmorny—

"Oi! There's Saros and Phoenix—Ronan owes me 5 Galleons, Nix is a Horned Serpent too." Cara pointed, as the two were stationed a few paces behind Anton and Alex Halliwell. Romulus smiled at the idea of having his 'cousin' in the better part of their classes.

But even as a Prefect, he wasn't sure how all this would function—There were nearly a hundred fifty extra students lingering in the grand hall and it was starting to become apparent.

"Maybe we can find an empty classroom to have a sleepover!" Cara cheered, and even Imara smiled at the idea. It reminded them so much of their childhood spent in America that it was almost too away from the fact that this was all to play part in the Triwizard Tournament. So when Dumbledore rose his hand to silence the crowd, everyone had shifted their attention away from their conversations and back towards him.

"I would like to say a few words before we bring in the casket...Eternal glory. That is what awaits the students who wins the Triwizard—Or should I say, Quadwizard Tournament. But to do so, that student must survive three tasks. Three very dangerous tasks." The warning had gone well over the student's minds, considering the positives outweighed the negatives.

"You see, the tournament has an unfortunate history of killing off its participants. For this reason, the Minister has seen fit to impose a new rule. To seem fit to impose a new rule. To explain, we have the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Mr. Bartemius Crouch—" The sudden crack of lightning flashes across the enchanted ceiling, and the torches along the walls flicker around, casting the hall into an eerie semi-darkness. There were a few shouts to follow the confusion, but all else had been solved as an unknown figure had cast up towards the ceiling to retreat the effects of the enchantment.

As it returned to normal, the figure became much more recognizable—The cloaked fellow held a large staff in hand, his grizzled grey hair and scarred flesh had shocked those closest that caught sight of it first.

He limped forward to the center of the professor's platform, and it was difficult for the audience not to shift their attention to the metal leg.

But he too analyzed them back, his embedded eye scanned the crowded as well.

"Is that—..."

"Moody—Alastor Moody," Romulus confirmed, and Cara's eyes had gone wide at the idea of meeting the very Auror to arrest their father.

There was little doubt he knew their name—The majority of the wizarding world knew their name, but it still made it difficult to process.

"Please tell me he isn't our new Dark Arts professor?" Imara ushered, and Romulus felt his shoulders sag. This was certainly going to be a difficult owl to send to his parents.

"Goddess, is he drinking?"

"Can hide anything in a flask," Romulus said, turning quite bitter at the prospect of suffering through an awkward year.

"Er...Rom, what's an Auror again?" Monty whispered, and he received a much kinder smile than Romulus had managed in the last few moments. "Dark wizard catcher."

"—Half the cells in Azkaban have filled thanks to him. Supposed to be Mad as a hatter these days though. Sees Death Eater in his dustbins." Ronald Weasley spoke quite loudly, and Romulus gritted his teeth—He didn't need to hear the very word that taunted him and the rest of the family.

"Oh, so he's a good fellow then?" Monty questioned, watching how both Dumbledore and him looked to be buddy-buddy.

"Depends what you think is good and bad Monty, he seems a bit unorthodox to me," Imara whispered, frowning into her own goblet. However, the interruption had turned back to the announcement.

"After due consideration, the Ministry has concluded that, for their own safety, no student under the age of seventeen will be allowed to put forth their name for the Triwizard Tournament. This decision is final!" It wasn't difficult to hear Fred and George's disagreement with the idea and Imara could only feel for their inability to enter.

But then turned to Romulus with a sickening grin. "Don't you bloody dare," Romulus said as he felt his twin's stare, and even Ronan turned to his sister's devious expression and shook his own head.

That was the last thing they needed, for Imara to be entered into the tournament. And after a few moments of delegation among the rest of the crowd. "The Goblet of Fire. Anybody wishing to submit themselves to the tournament need only write their name upon a piece of parchment and drop it into the flames within the next twenty-four hours. Do not do so lightly. If chosen, there is no turning back. As of this moment...The Triwizard Tournament has begun!" Dumbledore had allowed his wand to fall down the length of the large casket. Only to reveal the very thing that he was describing.

The Goblet did look like a beautiful reward besides internal glory—But Romulus was still exhausted from all that happened in the previous year and summer. Not that it mattered anyhow, he wasn't seventeen yet.

The beauty and curse of having a late birthday in England, though he wondered if his cousins would take the chance and enter it.

The Prefects were called forward, and it was very quickly introduction that a basic schedule a time where they would all meet again in the future. Though Anton hadn't made it all too easy to focus as he continued to nudge Rom in the gut.

"Ease up mate. Isn't that how you say it?" The American lad chuckled, and while it did earn a few questionable looks from the rest of the Hogwarts Prefects, Romulus' grin and discreet fist bump to showcase their friendship all in one failed swoop.

It was easier to herd away those familiar with Hogwarts, but Romulus and Imara had very quickly volunteered to help those from Ilvermorny. Which of course followed in pursuit of Eli Crawford.

"Ah, Romulus...Imara. Are you surprised?" He said while holding out his hands to take a quick embrace. "Surprised? Goddess, we didn't know about the tournament or that Quidditch would be canceled." Imara laughed, and those from America had followed along.

"Yeah, but sure we can get in a scrimmage or two." There was a record of agreement, and surely the pitch could be set up for it if they coordinated enough.

With them all settled, luggage accounted for as well as pets. Romulus and Imara had spent quite a bit of time going over the turntables as they weren't the typical schedule that one was used to.

But come morning it would be easier to follow once the students were sectioned off by house. Though Ravenclaw couldn't be any more crowded with the addition of Beaxbution ladies throughout.

It didn't help that Cara voiced her concern about having Alastar Moody as a professor. It seemed both Romulus and Imara would survive another day without meeting the deranged new teacher that Dumbledore's plucked from a never-ending supply.

But it was safe to say that none of the Lestrange's felt entirely prepared to revisit their father's past—Or their mother's for that matter.

As Aidan Proctor's nephew was here with them as well, of age to compete in the tournament as well. And while they had their share of pleasant company with the Proctor family, it wasn't without its own heartbreak either.

It left things high and dry as Aidan was no longer involved with their mother, meaning they were no longer considered family to the Proctor's. Such a bitter resolution, but Aurora chose Rabastan and Aidan understood it.

As far as the children knew, Aidan was seeing a witch. One he met during his travels for the Lestrange company, though it was an ongoing thought that he still held out for Aurora.

Romulus never thought much about it, his feeling was the same as his siblings—But they all drew the same conclusion, that he helped their mother with them when they were so young.

He was the glue that kept her sane right beside their Uncle Regulus, without him it would've been a more torturous struggle.

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Romulus,

I hope the surprise wasn't too much of a shock, and I apologize for not breaking the news about Quidditch. But after this summer, I believe it best to take a break from the sport. Though I'm sure you've wrangled up enough old friends to make this year worth it.

And while I want to keep this message light-hearted, I swear to the goddess above if I hear one Lestrange name in the papers or hearsay that any of you lot have entered the tournament I'll be down at the school and send them straight to the Sanctuary for a check-up on your sanity.

These aren't games to be messed with, even if your father thinks it's a brilliant idea. Little doubt I could've persuaded him not to enter, but enough of that. I beg you not to allow any of your siblings to try for the tournament. Even if there is said glory.

Eternal Glory doesn't constitute what you think it does, and please pass this along to your siblings. I beg you, do not fall into the ploy of that type of entertainment.

You want a challenge, hell, I'll give you one when you all return home. I'm warning you right now, have a death wish and I'll give you sure reason to battle those tasks are Childs play to when it comes to me.

Please watch out for your cousins as well, Hogwarts is a bit scary for newcomers. Sure you remember that all too well in Salem.

Take care.

As within, so without.

-Mum

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Date Posted: 01/16/2022

Time: 5:20

Words: 2365