The man was wrapped in a cloak, leaning on a cane, with long gray hair and scars covering his face.
One of his eyes was small, but the other was large and round, constantly rotating at angles completely unnatural to a normal person's physiology—it was clearly a magical eye.
Charlie recognized this man as Moody, and couldn't help but feel a little worried. Would he recognize him?
Although Moody had only seen his back that night, what if he became suspicious?
Moody hobbled towards the Staff Table, the sound of his cane hitting the floor exceptionally clear in the silent Great Hall.
Dumbledore smiled and shook his hand, then invited him to sit down.
"This is our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor for the term, Professor Moody," Dumbledore introduced.
Sparse applause echoed in the Great Hall. Clearly, Moody's appearance was not very popular; Charlie noticed many first-years showing expressions of fear.
But Moody didn't care. Sitting in the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor's seat, he pulled out a Metal Flask and took a big swig.
Professor McGonagall frowned in deep displeasure, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued.
"Now, let us return to the topic at hand—the Triwizard Tournament."
Only then did the students react, refocusing their attention on the Principal.
"The Triwizard Tournament is an ancient competition," Dumbledore explained.
"It is hosted in rotation by the three major European schools of magic—Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. Each school selects one Champion to participate in three dangerous Magical Tasks."
A wave of excited chatter rose in the Great Hall.
Dumbledore continued.
"The competition was discontinued for centuries because the death toll was simply too high. However, the Department of Magical Games and Sports and the Department of International Magical Cooperation believe it is time to revive this tradition. We have made extensive preparations over the summer to prevent the participating Champions from encountering danger."
Hearing about the death toll, many Muggle-born students in the Great Hall gasped.
But more students had excitement shining in their eyes and began whispering amongst themselves.
Dumbledore raised his hand, signaling for quiet.
"In October, the Principals of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will arrive with their Contenders, and together we will hold the Champion Selection Ceremony on Halloween Eve."
He paused, raising his voice slightly.
"The person who wins the Triwizard Cup will earn honor for their school, plus a prize of one thousand Galleons."
The Great Hall instantly erupted.
"One thousand Galleons!"
"My goodness, I'm going to enter!"
"Me too!"
The Weasley Twins jumped up, their faces flushed with excitement.
Fred turned to look at George; their eyes met, and they nodded in mutual understanding.
"This money is enough for us to open Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes!"
Over at the Hufflepuff table, Ernie was excitedly banging on the table.
"Charlie, you're definitely going to enter, right?"
Justin also leaned closer.
"If you enter, winning the Triwizard Cup won't be a problem."
Charlie said flatly:
"No interest."
"What?" Ernie was stunned.
"That's one thousand Galleons!"
Charlie waved his hand.
"Money is just a number. I've never touched money; I have no interest in money."
Ernie and Justin exchanged glances, both wearing strange expressions.
Dumbledore's gaze swept across the Great Hall, finally landing on Charlie, who looked completely uninterested.
This wouldn't do. Dumbledore also secretly wanted the Triwizard Cup to stay at Hogwarts, and Charlie's participation was the safest guarantee.
He cleared his throat, his voice echoing through the Great Hall.
"Furthermore, considering that the Champions will need to dedicate themselves entirely to the competition, homework for this term may be appropriately reduced."
At this announcement, many students' eyes lit up. But Charlie remained uninterested.
Hilarious, he never did homework anyway.
Dumbledore blinked and upped the stakes.
"This is the first Tournament in many years. This Champion will be recorded in history, their name inscribed upon the Triwizard Cup, passed down for generations."
Charlie was even less interested.
Fame? He was famous enough already; this minor fame could be left to others.
The other students in the Great Hall didn't think that way. Over at the Gryffindor table, the Weasley Twins were already discussing strategy.
Dumbledore sighed inwardly, watching Charlie's lack of reaction.
Children who were too powerful and became famous too early were not cute at all. After a moment of silence, he finally said:
"Moreover, I have personally decided that I can grant the Champion one reasonable request."
Charlie suddenly sat up straight; this truly interested him.
He had extracted far too many benefits from Dumbledore already, such as the Philosopher's Stone and the box containing Norbert.
Having Dumbledore agree to do one thing was, in Charlie's opinion, far more valuable than a thousand Galleons.
Seeing that Charlie's interest had been piqued, Dumbledore was finally satisfied and continued.
"I know you are eager to win the Triwizard Cup." He paused, his tone becoming serious.
"However, the participating schools and the Ministry of Magic have unanimously agreed to impose an age restriction on contestants: only students who are seventeen years of age or older may be selected."
The Great Hall instantly exploded.
"What?!"
"That's unfair!"
"We want to participate too!"
Protests erupted everywhere, especially from Fred and George, who were only one year shy of seventeen and were naturally very unwilling to accept this.
Dumbledore raised his hand, and the noise in the Great Hall gradually subsided.
"This activity is extremely dangerous," Dumbledore's voice echoed through the Great Hall.
"Students below the sixth or seventh year will not be able to handle it."
As soon as he finished speaking, many eyes turned towards the Hufflepuff table. Everyone present knew that Charlie's strength could not be judged by conventional student standards.
Justin immediately leaned over and whispered.
"They're looking down on you, Charlie."
Charlie ignored him, wondering if he should threaten the organizers to allow himself to participate.
Just then, Dumbledore continued to remind everyone.
"Nor should you try to secretly sign up and trick the judge selecting the Champions."
"You will not be able to do it." Dumbledore emphasized the phrase 'not be able to do it' with particular force.
Charlie looked up, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Not be able to do it?
It wasn't that it was forbidden, but that it was impossible.
The difference between those two phrases was huge. If some people couldn't do it, then naturally, others could.
And Charlie was very confident about being able to do this.
Over at the Gryffindor table, the Weasley Twins were also whispering.
"'Not be able to do it'?" Fred's lips curved into a smile.
"Sounds like a challenge," George replied.
The two exchanged glances, the same light flashing in their eyes.
The chatter in the Great Hall grew louder and louder.
Dumbledore said nothing further, simply announcing the end of the feast and instructing the students to return to their dormitories to rest.
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