Dark Lord Dumbledore

Today was the 30th of October and was the day the two other schools competing in the Triwizard Tournament were arriving. Since it was happening a year earlier than canon, Chad was curious who would be selected.

After a bit of research, he had found out that Victor Krum was seventeen this year, but Fleur and Cedric were still only sixteen. If the competition followed the same rules as in the books, then the cut off age was seventeen.

This was supposedly done to address the heinous body count that had seen the Triwizard Tournament discontinued in the first place. The officials in charge had universally believed that seven years of learning schoolyard jinxes and charms were enough to face off against a dragon, but six was not enough...

Chad could only marvel at their stupidity, especially since this was considered the end result after making the competition safe! The average a.d.u.l.t wizard or witch that wandered the streets of Diagon Alley would die facing a dragon, let alone a seventeen-year-old student.

Then again, the average witch or wizard would struggle to cast the Patronus Charm or other similar levels of magic. But considering the dragon would be restrained, and they only needed to steal an egg, they might stand a chance of surviving.

Still, Chad was not interested in the slightest in this life or death game designed to establish ties between the three schools. The rewards were just not worth it.

He had looked into the possibility of emancipation from entering a magical contract meant for a.d.u.l.ts but had found no precedent for it. The Ministry worked off age, not some magical maturation.

The Goblet of Fire did not judge age in the first place, since the new rules regarding a minimum age for entry into the Triwizard Tournament had only just been created.

Besides, he already had reliable guardians that could access his money or manage his property, why bother rushing? It wasn't like he could jump straight into running for Minister of Magic as a fourteen-year-old because he cheated his way into a competition intended for a.d.u.l.ts.

And that would be how everyone viewed his participation, that he had somehow tricked his way into a magical contract that had the ability to strip him of his magic. It would harm his image more than it would bolster it.

They were a capricious bunch wizards, finding it easy to believe a rich and famous scion would risk his life for the piddling prize money and the questionable accolades received for winning the tournament. Their own prejudices, envy, dislike or even relatability would fuel their judgment and convict him as a lying cheat.

Just look what happened to Harry Potter in canon, even his so-called friends believed he wanted to risk his life for a thousand Galleons. And that was after three previous years of surviving death by the skin of his teeth!

Sure he could easily prove his innocence if he was entered against his will, but with his name change vow, Chad doubted his name would be accepted by the Goblet of Fire.

No, it was simply not worth all the drama that would come with entering himself at thirteen when it was only for those that had reached the wizarding age of majority.

He was also tired of everyone bragging that they would enter and win it easy, like the previous deaths in the contest didn't happen. The biggest of these fools was surprisingly not Draco Malfoy, he had managed to tame his Gryffindor-like tendencies over the last two years thanks to Chad's influence.

It was Ron 'I'm a master strategist because I'm good at chess' Weasley. What happened to the boy that was supposedly sullen because he was in his brothers' shadow? Even the twins were not as boastful of their goal in winning the Triwizard cup.

Or was that why Ron was so vocal about it?

Chad couldn't help but smile as he waited out front of the castle with the rest of Hogwarts students for the other schools to arrive, he was picturing what all the braggarts would do if they got their wish and had to face off with a nesting dragon.

There were even some firsties boasting that they were going to enter!

Soon, the delegation from Beauxbatons arrived in a large carriage pulled by Abraxan horses, skimming over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest. The carriage was blue and had intricate designs on the outer shell, such as the Beauxbatons coat of arms.

Once it came to a stop after a bumpy touchdown, a boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage and unfolded a set of golden steps. What emerged from the hidden confines of the carriage was the largest woman Chad had ever seen.

'Freak! Behemoth! That's a huge b*tch!'

He couldn't help but think of the scene from a movie he had watched as a child, Madame Maxime was truly a large woman. He also let out a sigh because Hagrid would miss out on love because of his meddling and Dumbledore taking him away.

A dozen boys and girls had emerged from the carriage behind the Beauxbatons Headmistress, and they then trudged over to greet McGonagall.

As the two leaders of the schools conversed, Chad couldn't help but notice the Beauxbatons students were shivering, which was unsurprising, given that their robes seemed to be made of fine silk, and none of them had cloaks.

A few had wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads to combat the colder temperature they were unused to. But not one of the supposedly cream of the crop seventh years from the French school thought to apply a charm to warm themselves.

Shortly after their arrival, the Durmstrang ship appeared from below the surface of the Black Lake to the south of Hogwarts Castle. It had a strangely skeletal look about it, as though it were a resurrected wreck, and the dim, misty lights shimmering at its portholes looked like ghostly eyes.

The group soon appeared from the shadows cast by the light from the ship and were led by a man that could only be Karkaroff, the former Death Eater that snitched on his criminal associates for clemency.

Unlike the Beauxbatons crowd, the Durmstrang group were adequately attired for the night chill and were kitted out in thick cloaks of some kind of shaggy, matted fur.

Just for not looking like idiots, Chad already had a higher opinion of them than the French contenders.

Krum was Karkaroff's clear favourite, as Chad could overhear him hurrying McGonagall along in her greetings so they could go inside for the famous seeker's benefit. Apparently, he had a slight head cold...

With both groups having arrived just in time for the evening meal, everyone was herded into the castle for the official welcoming feast for the Triwizard Tournament.

Once inside, Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students were still gathered around the entrance to the Dining Hall, apparently unsure about where they should sit.

The students from Beauxbatons had chosen seats at the Ravenclaw table but were looking around the Great Hall with glum expressions. Three of them were still clutching scarves and shawls around their heads, obviously the heat of the room not enough for their delicate sensibilities.

If it was one thing Chad despised, it was people that were never happy with the host's arrangement but made no attempt to improve their own situation. Expecting others to go out of their way to make them comfortable when they were responsible for themselves.

Imagine going to someone's house for a party at night, in winter, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, and complaining to the owner that they were freezing...

It wasn't even that cold, and they had magic capable of warping reality.

Not to mention that the students brought to Hogwarts were meant to be the best their school had to offer. The advertis.e.m.e.nt of Beauxbatons teaching ability.

How were these rejects supposed to compete in a tournament that could kill them?

What was even worse, was that two of the people shivering with scarves around their faces were male! Chad couldn't keep the look of disdain off his face as he stared at the two soy boys sitting across the table from him, shivering and complaining at the level of English hospitality.

With nothing but time on his hands, Chad had taken advantage of Legilimency and Occlumency to learn many other languages that were prevalent around the globe.

It was always a good idea to know if you were being mocked or insulted in the native language when in another country. Especially if you planned to rule it.

With Chad making no effort to hide his opinions, the two 'men' in question quickly became aware of his scorn.

"Do you have a problem?" One of them asked loudly in heavily accented English.

This, of course, gathered the attention of all those seated at the Ravenclaw table, both Hogwarts and Beauxbatons students alike.

"Yes, I do. You are supposed to be here to compete in the Triwizard Tournament, a competition renowned for its high death toll, yet you can't even keep yourselves warm. Instead, you sit there and mock our hospitality. If you were not guests, I would have slapped you like the little b*tches you are!" Chad said with as much contempt as he could insert into his tone.

Having a pretty boy call you a little b*tch seemed to have been more of a blow than the two French boys could handle, particularly when giggling and suppressed laughter echoed around them, further shaming the poor excuse for wizards.

But before the two feminine men could erupt in a fury, a pretty Beauxbatons witch harshly rebuked them in their native language concerning their behaviour.

"Bisset, Couture, be quiet! We are here as guests, and you try picking a fight at the welcoming ceremony? You are making Beauxbatons look like rude ingrates, just look at the Durmstrang delegation! If you don't shut up right now, I will deal with you personally!"

She pointed to the Durmstrang students that were now seated at the Slytherin table and looking up at the starry black ceiling with expressions of interest. A couple of them were picking up the golden plates and goblets and examining them, apparently impressed.

The comparison between the two group's behaviour was plain to see for all.

Although the girl was speaking French, Chad had no problems understanding her since they were not exactly whispering and still obviously unaware that he understood their language.

By the way that the objects of his disdain repressed their d.e.s.i.r.e to continue the argument after the scolding, Chad could only assume this girl was high up in the pecking order of the Beauxbatons representatives.

That or these two French wizards were even more pathetic than he first thought.

He had yet to sense anything similar to what he had learned of the Veela allure, so Fleur must not be among these French witches. Which was a pity, since Chad had wanted to find out if there was any merit to Fleur being described as breathtakingly beautiful.

The Veela allure would have also been fun to experiment with. If he could figure out how it worked, no lady would be safe from his charms!

"I apologise for their behaviour, they are just unused to travelling and reacted poorly to an unfamiliar environment. Please, could you forgive them, for me?" Came the suddenly seductive voice of the pretty witch that had just promised retribution to her schoolmates.

What had started off as a well practised fake coyness, that was clearly used on any male the girl wished to wrap around her little finger, quickly became genuine as she noticed Chad's good looks.

Even though he was thirteen years old, it was hard to tell his age at first glance. He towered over his peers, and with his large frame, could easily be mistaken for a seventh year.

Chad may have overdone it with his growth spurt, but he was tired of being stuck in a child's body and longed for his original height of just under six foot five.

"There is nothing to forgive since they are guests, no matter how rude they are. But if a beauty such as yourself still apologises on their behalf, how could I let the issue persist? Since you clearly care about their wellbeing, I suggest not letting them enter the tournament, with their delicate sensibilities, I'm afraid they would not survive." Said Chad, making it evident to all that heard him that he had not, in fact, forgiven the two male French students.