"… The gatekeeper Mr. Felch hopes that I will tell you that this year, there have been several items that are prohibited in the castle. They are screaming roaming balls, teething foul saucers and combo back darts. The entire list includes about 437 items. You can see it in Mr. Felch's office. Those who are interested can check it..."

Professor Dumbledore, the principal of Hogwarts, was enthusiastically delivering a conventional opening speech, completely ignoring the sleepy students below.

"Harry, it seems you're in a much better mood." Seamo handed Harry a pumpkin pie, "Take it, I just hid it, the school has prepared a little less snack this year."

"Yes, I missed the branch ceremony two years ago, and I can finally make up for it this year." Harry replied happily.

"Shh, Dumbledore will definitely have important matters announced today. My parents and those three brothers are so nagging that they refuse to tell us. We should know now." Ron said.

Dumbledore's mouth twitched a few times.

He continued: "As before, I would like to remind everyone that the forbidden forests on the other side of the venue are not allowed to enter, and no students under the third grade are allowed to visit Hogsmeade Village."

"I also have to tell you very regretfully that the Academy Cup Quidditch will not be held this year."

"What?" Harry was breathless in surprise. He turned his head to look at his Quidditch teammates Fred and George. They both opened their mouths and stared at Dumbledore silently, as if they were too surprised to speak.

"Oh my God, is this the so-called secret?" Ron was also shocked.

Dumbledore continued: "This is because a large event will begin in October and continue throughout the school year, taking up a lot of time and energy for teachers - but I believe you all can have a lot of fun from it. I am very happy to announce to you that this year is at Hogwarts-"

At this moment, a deafening thunder sounded, and the door of the auditorium slammed open.

A man stood at the door, leaning on a long crutch, wrapped in a black travel cloak. Everyone in the auditorium turned their heads to look at strangers, and suddenly a fork-shaped lightning flashed across the ceiling, and everyone took a breath of air conditioning.

Lightning shone the man's face incredibly brightly. It was like it was carved on a piece of decaying wood. The carver only had a vague concept of how the human face should be, and he was not very good at using the carving knife. Every inch of the skin on the face seemed to be scarred, the mouth was like a crooked big hole, and the place where the nose should be raised was gone. The most terrifying thing about this man was his eyes.

One of his eyes was very small, black and shiny; the other one was big, round like a coin, and a bright bright blue color. The blue eyes kept moving without blinking, turning up and down, left and right, completely irrelevant to the normal eye. Later, the blue eyes rolled and drilled into the man's head, and everyone could only see a big white eyeball.

The stranger walked to Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand, which was as scarred as his face. Dumbledore shook his hand and whispered something. The stranger shook his head without a smile and answered in a low voice. Dumbledore nodded and signaled the man to sit in an empty seat to his right.

The stranger sat down, shook his head, shook his long gray hair away from his face, then pulled a plate of sausages and raised it to his incomplete nose to smell it. He took out a knife from his pocket, poked it in from one end of a sausage, and started eating. His normal eye was staring at the sausage, but the blue eye was still constantly circling in the sockets, looking at the auditorium and classmates.

"Please allow me to introduce our new teacher in the Dark Magic Defense Arts class," Dumbledore happily broke the silence, "Professor Moody."

Dumbledore and Hagrid slapped a few times, and found the applause echoing in the quiet auditorium and seemed lonely, so they tactfully put down their hands. The others seemed to be stunned by Moody's strange appearance and stared at him intently.

“It looks really scary…”

"Look at how he looks, he must have dealt with many dark wizards - or he is a good black wizard."

The students whispered.

Moody seemed indifferent to everyone's cold reaction. He ignored the large jar of pumpkin juice in front of him, but reached into his travel cloak, took out a curved wine bottle, and took a big sip.

When the auditorium calmed down again, Dumbledore cleared his throat.

“As I said just now,” he said with a smile at the many students in front of him, “In the next few months, we will be honored to host a very exciting event that has not been held for more than a century. I am very happy to tell you that the Triumph will be held this year at Hogwarts.”

"You're kidding!" Fred Weasley yelled.

The tension that had been shrouded in the auditorium since Moody entered the door was suddenly broken. Almost everyone laughed out loud, and persuaded Brideau to chuckle with appreciation.

"I'm not kidding, Mr. Weasley," he said, "but since you mentioned joking, I heard a very funny joke about a troll, a female yaksha and a leprechaun, who both entered the same tavern..."

Professor McGonagall cleared his throat very loudly.

"Oh--it's probably not suitable for this now...not suitable for it..." Dumbledore said, "Where did I just talk about it? Ah, by the way, the Triple Championship... Some of you don't know what the hell is going on, so I hope that some people who understand the situation can forgive me for explaining it here, and I allow their thoughts to be a little bit aside."

"The Triumph was founded about 700 years ago and is a kind of friendship competition between the three largest magic schools in Europe. These three schools are: Hogwarts, Busbaton and Demstrong. Each school selects a Warrior, and then the three Warriors compete for three magical projects. The Triumph is held every five years, and the three schools take turns to host it. Everyone agreed that this is an excellent way for young wizards to establish friendships between different countries - but later, the death toll was too many, and the Triumph was interrupted."

Obviously, the vast majority of students did not take the word "death count" seriously, and many people whispered excitedly.

“Over the centuries, people have tried to resume the championship several times,” Dumbledore continued, “but none of them were successful. However, the International Magic Cooperation Division and the Magic Sports Division of our Ministry of Magic believe that the time to try again is ripe. This summer we have done a lot of work to make sure that every warrior is not in danger of life.”

"In October, the principals of Boothbaton and Demstrong will lead their carefully selected competitors, and the selection of the Warriors will be held on Halloween. A fair referee will decide which students are most qualified to compete for the Final Three Cup, earn honors for their school, and individuals will receive a thousand Gallons."

"One Thousand Garons! I want to participate!" Fred Weasley said in a low voice over the table. He was so excited that his face shone with excitement.

Obviously, there were many students who had the same idea as him. At the tables of each college, there were people watching Dumbledore enthusiastically or whispering to the next seat excitedly.

"It's so crazy. Haven't they noticed that many outstanding young wizards had died in this seemingly rewarding game?" Hermione obviously couldn't stand this irrational fanaticism. She and Parvati sat on Ravenclaw's table - the little lions in Gryffindor seemed to have lost their minds.

"The previous generations once taught us that profits are unconscious. In the wizarding world, there are very few opportunities to gain both fame and fortune. I am not surprised that they will have such a reaction." Silver whispered. "This opportunity may be the only time for the students of Hogwarts."

The people in Ravenclaw's academy seemed relatively calm, and the corner where Silver was even more calm - he had already gained considerable prestige in Ravenclaw, and many Ravenclaw's students were only following him.

Dumbledore spoke again, and the auditorium became quiet again.

"I know you all want to win the Triumph for Hogwarts," he said. "But the participating schools and the Ministry of Magic agreed that an age limit should be set for this year's competitors. Only students over seventeen, that is, over seventeen, are allowed to sign up for consideration. We feel," Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, as some people protested angryly after hearing his words, and the Weasley twins suddenly became angry. "This measure is necessary, because the tournament is still difficult and dangerous, and no matter how many precautions we take, it is impossible for students under six or seven to deal with." His eyes flashed over Fred and George's rebellious faces, with meaningful light in his blue eyes, "So, if you are less than seventeen, I ask you not to waste time applying."

"The delegation of Busbaton and Demstrong will arrive in October and spend most of the school year with us. I know that when our foreign guests stay here, you will be warm and friendly, and once the warriors of Hogwarts are finally selected, you will all support him or her wholeheartedly. Well, it's not too late, so it's very important to get you up and walk into the classroom tomorrow morning with a clear head. Go to bed! Hurry up!"

Dumbledore sat down and turned to talk to Mad-eyed Moody. The restaurant was clattering and ping-pong sounded, and the students stood up one after another, rushed to the two opposite doors and entered the foyer.

"This is unfair. I will be 17 next year. Why do I have such a strange rule?"

"Yes, there was no such regulation in the previous three championships."
Chapter completed!