The Quidditch Pitch Stands
Visitors in the stands can post like normal! Try to keep up with the events in the Champion thread as they happen.


On a sunny morning on the 26th of September, the students and staff of Hogwarts, Durmstrang, Beauxbatons and Salem gather at the Quidditch Pitch. Visitors gather as well, to watch the efforts of the Champions as they compete for glory! Visitors may include: Wizarding family related to the students, staff, and champions at Hogwarts, Ministry employees, and a few reporters and photographers. No muggles.

The Quidditch Stadium is barely recognizable. The stadium floor is coated and covered entirely in huge Acromantula webs - with a colossal domed web at the southern end. The webs have been woven around huge growths of thorny plants, whose coils have grown so thick that the trails cut through them vanish into what are effectively tunnels for half of the stadium.

Despite the bright sun, the stadium floor is in shadow, and even with the roar of the crowd, ominous shuffling can be heard in the darkness...

Zoe was super excited for the first task to start. She'd never seen such events or such competition. Though she was rooting for Hogwarts of course, Zoe only really desired to witness some good competition. Luckily by the looks of the Quidditch Pitch she wouldn't be dissapointed in the slightest. The ominous looks and sounds gave Zoe both an edge of excitement and an edge of fright.

The Ravenclaw raised her omnioculars to her eyes and tried to see into the webs. She wanted to see the spiders. Sadly, she had no such luck, and instead looked around the stands for her family. Zoe was sitting among the students, while they were with more of the visitors. Everyone in her family that wasn't Muggle and could come had done so. She spotted them, waved, and went back to looking at the webs and thorny branches.

Perspepolis Zephyr was given a seat of honor in the school's modest Quidditch grandstands, and the old witch, swathed in billowing robes, was surrounded by a cadre of assistants, benefactors and political allies, all present to witness what Persepolis had heralded as the high point of the decade for Wizarding enlightment and cultural kinship.

"And you see, the Goblet produced twelve names this time! It was coaxed into doing so in order that more students would be able to participate and provide a more diverse showing for each school.  It really is a revolutionary idea," she said to those around her, pointing way yonder to the fancy tent where they all were presumably gathered.

"It's going to be extra-ordinary - those webs look positively ominous.  An excellent test.  Naturally, we'll be rooting for Hogwarts, but I think there's room for a good showing all around.  Expect nothing but the best.  Did you know that Salem Witches' Institute is here as well? All the way from the United States! Quite a splash of flavor this year.  I hear they've already made quite an impact on our students.  The common language does help!"

Persepolis Zephyr spoke on and on, so excited that the vision of the Tournament as begun by Madam Snark (bless her missing soul!) had been made real through her own and Herschel Reid's efforts.   And with no small assistance from the Ministry of Magic and the Board.

Two sisters weaved their way through the throng of visitors, one tall and calm, and the younger of the two chattering excitedly about all of the interesting things on the Quidditch pitch: the four schools' banners hanging from the towers, the judges and the school governors sitting high above, and of course, the spider's web stretched across the stadium floor; a stark, spooky contrast to the colorful crowd.

"It looks like you can jump on it," Abby nodded at the webs. "Like a trampoline! Except underneath, there are creepy crawlies waiting to eat you."

"Indeed," Aileen put a hand on her shoulder to steer her away from a young student carrying overflowing butterbeers.

"Don't 'indeed' me!" Abby laughed. "I know you're super excited too, Miss Took Forever to get Ready."

Aileen raised her eyebrows, but smiled. She wasn't going to tell her she'd stalled because Abby had been going on about wanting to meet Tyr this morning.

Reminded of that, she pointed out a few Hogwarts students that her younger sister could sit with, but predictably, Abby shook her head and started to scan the stands. Though Aileen wasn't happy about the Durmstrang boy, she knew Abby had been missing several of her friends and had never even been to the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch before. So she let her flit off with promises to keep in sight, and continued to move through the bleachers.

When she spotted the tall figure of Tapendra, she automatically headed toward him, well aware (like everyone in his panicky proximity) of his feelings about Sasha being in the tournament. She felt uneasy too, but not nearly on the same level. Holding back several teasing things she could say at his expense, Aileen touched his elbow for a moment, and offered, "No luck getting into the tent, then?"

Aileen had not been the only one who had taken a long time to get ready. Abby, her hair extra curly, wore her usual blend of the latest wizarding and muggle fashions, and carried a bag full of essentials like a camera, omnioculars, rolled up signs, and gum. She'd attempted to draw a blue eagle on her cheek, but it looked more like a bloated pixie.

As she milled about the Durmstrang students asking for Tyr Brunn, Abby got plenty of confused looks, questions of 'Tyr?' and then 'why Tyr?', and pointing at a group of Ravenclaws that they assumed she belonged to. But finally, someone understood what she wanted and gestured toward a boy a few rows below them. She stepped on each bleacher to make her way down and landed behind him with a slight thump, relieved to see that even wearing heels the small boy was taller than she was. He had brown hair and a slim build. She hadn't gotten a good look at his face yet.

Abby tapped the boy on the shoulder, then clasped her hands behind her back innocently. When he turned around, she gave him a wide grin. "Hi!"

No further explanation needed. She doubted (hoped) that not many other English teenage girls had randomly greeted him with such enthusiasm.

Tapendra sat with his hands up to his mouth, elbows on his knees, one of his thumbs between his teeth. One foot tapped away at the stand's floorboards, and his blue eyes darted everywhere - to the webs, the stands, the people next to him. Mostly, however, his gaze rested on the flap to the Champion's tent, which had yet to open and reveal a Champion.

When Aileen touched his arm, he jumped, eyes bugging out, and sucking his breath sharply. He stared at her for a moment until his racing thoughts caught up with the here-and-now, and he relaxed.

He smirked, slightly - but it was his unusual slightly dark smirk. "What gave it away?" he asked, tone dripping with sarcasm. Had he been in a better state of mind, he might have realized her behavior was off; but right now, his mind was consumed with a dark cloud of worry. He hadn't had any luck getting into the tent. He'd been turned away, and the Ministry guards had been very very firm about it. And he still wasn't confident Sasha would come out of this unharmed. Especially now that he'd seen what the task was...but with Kronos teaching him things..ugh. Sasha might live, but if he blasted off some Dark Art spell, it wouldn't matter, would it?

He rubbed his face with his hands and then smiled at Aileen, though it was quite obvious it wasn't what he was really feeling. "He's a good spellcaster," he said, apparently assuming there was no need to explain who 'he' was. "He'll be fine." Tappy didn't sound like he believed it, though, because he didn't.

He breathed deeply a few times, collecting himself; then he sighed and smiled again. "Abby went to find her friends, I assume?" He asked, with a bit more cheer.

Truth be told, Jacoba had no idea what, exactly, she was doing but she'd approached this adventure with the same tactic that had gotten her through almost a year of living in the wizarding world: pretend you know what you're doing and just do what everyone else is.  Within reason and personal ability.  She'd caught ... taken ... hitched a ride (or whatever) on one of the Ministry designated portkeys to Hogsmeade early that morning.  After only a few minutes of waiting, she'd overheard a middle aged witch telling her younger daughter to 'pay attention and keep up - the needed to get to the school.' 

She'd followed them down to the school and through the scanner wizards at the gates.  Any lingering doubts of her reasons for being back vanished the moment one of the two wizards scanned her with his wand and waved her on through.  From there, with the number of people headed in that direction, finding the stadium was easy enough though processing what she saw was an entirely different matter entirely. 

Jacoba had no way of really grasping what the quidditch stadium was supposed to look like.  But, she assumed it was nothing like this.  The scene they looked down on was more like the setting for some vietnam war reenactment than a sports arena.  Except for...except for the ominous looking webs.  Webs that were larger than most rope webs found on children's playground equipment.  That's what they were sending these so-called champions into? 

A short ways away, Jacoba recognized the distinctive, yet recognizable figure of one of her brother's professors.  She'd only met him on one occasion but that made him infinitely more familiar than anyone else in the stands.  Jacoba weaved her way through the seats and approached Professor Trishna and the blond woman he sat with.  Even from a distance, the man's nervous were obvious. 

"Allo," she offered.  "I don't know if you remember me - we met in London a few months back?  I'm Jacoba Schlagenweit," she offered partly to him and partly to the woman he was with.  "Do you mind if I join you?"

Tapendra looked an utter mess. Aileen blinked at his startled reaction, then took a seat next to him, deciding she might as well make sure he didn't bite off his fingers or wear a hole in the bleachers.

"I'm sure he will be," she said with deliberate confidence.

"She did," Aileen gave him a small smile that faded as she watched Abby mingle with the Durmstrang students, privately hoping her sister wouldn't be able to find Tyr Brunn before the task began. Part of her wanted to tell Tapendra about 'the situation', as she called it, but now wasn't a good time or place, and more stress on his shoulders might make him crack.

"It took her long enough to get ready. Teenagers," she shook her head and widened her eyes. "Aileen, I can't find my shoes! Aileen, the crup chewed on my hairbrush! Quite entertaining. At least now she knows how I feel when she lets her pet into my room."

She was about to ask if Cyhirae and Georgiana were off with their friends, when a young woman who looked even taller than she approached and introduced herself.

Aileen stared at her in surprise. Jacoba was Sasha's older sister, wasn't she? The muggle at Reducto. Too taken aback to form a polite response, Aileen glanced at Tapendra, thinking that she must be missing something.

"Hah," he said, in both amusement and agreement. He knew that well enough - how often had he been late when trying to get the girls out the door? Georgiana was probably worse than Abby, though, because he doubted Abby had ever come down the stairs dressed like...well, he didn't know what the describe Georgiana's clothing as. Sometimes he just thought she looked like some manner of streetwalker, other times...well, cyber goth was not a style he understood. He'd never admit to Gigi that sometimes he rather liked the look - usually in movies - but he still wasn't going to let her stomp around London like that while he and Cyhirae were dressed respectably.

In short, Aileen had probably never had to order Abby upstairs to change...well, not often, anyway. Somehow he could see the sight of jeans provoking that response from Aileen. Go and change, Abby! You look like a muggle!

And by Merlin, it was nice to think about something other than Sasha getting ripped limb from limb. He rubbed his forehead again, looking up when Jacoba approached. He recognized her, distantly, but when she spoke it clicked.

He smiled widely. "Jacoba! Hello again," he said, surprised they'd allowed a muggle to attend. "Of course you can - here, take a seat," he said, picking up the book he'd brought and setting it in his lap. He looked between the two women and cleared his throat.

"Aileen, this is Jacoba - she's Sasha's elder sister, as she said," he said, figuring it was polite to introduce them properly. "Jacoba, this is Aileen Reid, Sasha's Ancient Runes professor," he added, nodding to Aileen. "She's also the elder sister of Abby Reid, I'm not sure if you've met...?"

So much for hopes that a 'fifth' school competing with only one member assigned to it would have gotten a sole champion competing with the other three four schools.

But then, Potter always had things align in his favor.

Casey was observing the Task with rapt interest. There was a simple but brutal beauty to the design of this task. Pitting the champions against the wildest of savage beasts. Casey had views of nature that wouldn't please certain large CoMC professors. Sometimes a more challenging opponent than another duelist, there was something that enticed the Slytherin about the conquering of nature. In the days of Merlin and the Founders some of the greatest legends had been vanquishing monsters and fighting dragons.

The First Task almost looked too easy.

Which gave Casey a notion. He would wait, bide his time though the timing would be pivotal. Time after the task for the attention about the acromantulas to die down. For the giant arachnids to settle back into the forrest, perchance heal. But soon enough that they were still on edge, still unsettled.

And Casey would prove just how he could bend a creature to his will...

Dressed to the nines in a sharp green suit, silver gleaming at his fingers and cuffs (and probably toes), Darian Morgan took the stadium steps two at a time. He spotted the shining blonde of his cousin first, Landis' hair stark like a beacon against his dark green and black robes. He slunk one way and stepped another and leapt nimbly over a witch with a too-tall hat to get past a few rows of seated spectators before he finally stood proudly over his cousin.

Landis looked up at him. Disappointingly, Darian spotted not so much as a flicker of surprise in that pale gaze. Well, Darian hadn't been subtle about his intentions to get up here for the first task.

"You look like a leprechaun," was his first flat judgement. And, "Aren't you a little old for House loyalty?"

"A devastatingly sexy leprechaun," Darian corrected him, delivering his line with such satisfaction that even Landis' lips quirked up. Darian dropped to his seat with some malicious intent, mainly so that he could better dig his sharp elbows into his cousin's equally sharp ribs. Any smile vanished as Landis leaned away, scowling at a particularly annoying jab. "We're never too old for Slytherin green, Mister Head of House. Or family. Don't tell me you're going to sit there like a lump when Erin comes on." He stopped, and looked at the other man closely. "Oh," Darian breathed, in airy tones of horrified delight, "Do you know how to cheer?"

"Darian," Landis said curtly, lacking infinite patience, "Go bother Trishna." As Darian's mouth snapped open and his brows shot up - "Don't pretend you didn't know he was here." Darian's expression lost some of its manic cheer. He shot Landis a disapproving look for ruining his show but sprang up again, delivering a farewell bow that certainly was not the least bit sarcastic. Unfortunately most people had already seated themselves, and Darian could not depend on height alone to pick Tappy out of the crowd. He stayed poised at Landis' side for a moment until Landis proved his family loyalty (or desire to get rid of Darian), snaked an arm around Darian's legs, and pointed. "There." Darian took off like a shot.

"Tapendra!" He was a mean green charming machine. "How good to see you again! Oh, Jacoba?" He seemed so genuinely pleased, a little surprised as he turned to regard her. His smile grew warmer. "What a pleasure. How have you been?"

He did not know Aileen so well, though he could at least match face and name - a pureblood advantage, though it wouldn't do to press it. He turned his smile on her as well, with the intention to bend over her hand if she allowed it. Any other greeting for a beautiful pureblood witch would surely be most rude.

Alvis wandered through the familiar Hogwarts stands, sucking quietly on the tip of a Sugar Quill. While they were his favorite candy and he did come armed with a box of them, today it was more an excuse not to talk to anyone than anything else. His eyes darted between the stand and the over-grown field, desperately calculating the location where he could get the best view and trying very, very hard not to think about what those spiders could do to Sasha...No, no, he wasn't going to think like that!

Shaking off the anxiety, Alvis spotted a familiar face -- Casey, good, he'd likely have some interesting insights on the task at hand -- and weaved towards him through the stands. He was a row away and about to call out to the Slytherin when he was bowled over by something huge.

"AH-WOOF!"

It was a dog. But not just any dog, it was easily one of the largest dogs Alvis had ever seen. It was covered in thick fur patched with white and brown; weighed at least twice what Alvis did; and stood in a stance so powerful Alvis could imagine it knocking out a support beam and bringing the whole stadium crashing down. But the strangest thing was that it was being ridden by a tiny blonde girl of no more than eight years old, who poked her head over the massive furry face and giggled at him, bopping the dog on the forehead. "Bad Antonia! Be more careful!"

The dog wagged its tail, lulling its tongue like it hadn't a care in the world.

The little girl slipped off her dog's back and skipped over to help Alvis up out of the stairs, which she attempted by tugging on his arm until he stood up on his own. Now that he got a good look at her, he could see that she was dressed entirely in purple and black, right up to ribbons in her hair. Alvis had very little experience with children younger than first years. He quirked his head. "You're here for Salem, aren't you? Shouldn't you be on the other side?"

"Mama said we could go find somewhere else to sit so long as we stayed in-sight. And she can see a long way." The little girl pointed towards the purple-and-black cloaked Salem stands, waving at a particular distant glint. A moment later, the speck of a spectator waved back. The mother must be armed with omnoculers. "My name's Minnie, and this is Antonia. What's your name?"

The dog, Antonia, nudged Alvis's hand with its muzzle, weaving around them both. Alvis distractedly patted her head. "Um, Alvis. I'm Alvis."

Minnie beamed. "Antonia likes you. I like you too. Can we sit with you?"

"Um. Okay?"

And that was how he wound up sitting at the stadium's top row, with Minnie giggling beside him like they'd known each other for years. Her feet couldn't quite reach the ground, so Antonia curled up on top of Alvis's, giving the little girl a footrest of sorts. His feet soon fell asleep.

The blond woman said nothing but just sat and stared.  Jacoba would like to say she was used to this; stares tended to be a constant companion whenever Jacoba stepped out of Reducto into Diagon Alley.  But, usually, Jacoba felt no obligation to do anything but ignore them as she passed by.  She usually didn't find herself asking to take a seat with them. 

Willing to give the woman the benefit of the doubt, Jacoba was on the verge of apologizing for intruding when recognition dawned on Professor Trishna.  He offered a much more inviting welcome and, after an apologetic grimace towards the woman (just in case), Jacoba took a seat. 

"I hope I'm not intruding," she offered for good measure.  If the woman's response indicated she was, Jacoba could find some subtle excuse to leave.  "Professor Reid," Jacoba acknowledged, not sure if casual conversation would help or hurt the situation.  "You're one of my brother's professors?  Ruins - is that like the Greek and Mayan stuff?  Or are there actually different wizarding ruins, too?  I suppose they claim there's old druid stuff in Britain.  No, I haven't met Abby though I've been meaning to - my brother tasked me with that back in May, but-"  But, she'd skipped town, instead. 

The sound of her name drew Jacoba's attention to yet another familiar face and she offered Darian a warm grin in return.  "It's good to see you, too.  You've come for the show?" she asked, a pointless question if ever there was one.  He was here, wasn't he?  "I've been having an odd few months; back in town.  Had to come root on blood - my brother's competing, you know.  Join us!"  He seemed to know Professor Trishna.  Maybe he knew this Professor Reid, as well, which might help lighten her mood. 

Tapendra attracted the most interesting people. As he introduced her to Sasha's sister, Aileen didn't know whether to be thankful that Abby was elsewhere, or call her over so that she'd meet Jacoba and have someone else to talk to while Sasha was at school. But her apologetic grimace reminded her very much of Sasha for a second, and Aileen waved off the woman's concern about intruding.

"Of course not," she recovered enough to offer her a cool, polite smile. If Ministry officials suddenly appeared and hauled the muggle away, she'd leave the mess to Tapendra.

She opened her mouth to correct her - runes, not ruins - when Darian Morgan arrived, spouting enthusiastic greetings. Especially enthusiastic!

Her mouth twitched up in amusement when he took her hand, and she sneaked a glance at Tapendra, expecting him to be snickering into his sleeve. "So we have another Mr. Morgan in the stands," she raised her eyebrows. "How will the tournament compete with all of this color?"

Of course, that rested on Darian - the librarian was about as colorful as parchment. She remembered the young, mischievous face from when they'd gone to Hogwarts, and she'd seen him at pureblood functions, though she'd seen his fashions more than she'd seen him.

The crowd growing quieter distracted her from inquiring about Erin, and she looked up as a Ministry official stood and welcomed them, the voice amplified and appropriately bombastic.[1]

1.	Sorry for the delay in posting! Hope it's alright to unofficially start the task announcement

"Stupendous!"  Persepolis shouted as things finally began to get underway.  The officials had begun the Tournament!  She clapped her hands and looked out over the brambled pitch for signs of action. 

There was a roar of applause from the crowd gathered, and Persepolis joined in, amid her cadre of attendees and assistants and personal guests.  And then the first name was announced.

It was Vexillarius Anderson from Salem.  They could only just see his figure moving through the thorns and webs because it was so thick.  Everyone around Persepolis was pointing and commenting when they thought they saw something.  An official a-broomstick was making laps around the pitch, keeping account of the goings on. 

"SHIT!" Vex swore as his feet fell from under him. He clawed furiously with his hands at the ground as his body slid into the pit, only barely keeping himself from falling into it entirely by. "Son of a BITCH!" he shouted, chin resting on the ground only inches from the rim of the trap. With a grunt Vex carefully began pulling himself out-

Persepolis gasped as the lad was tested by a heinous trap, and struggled to get free.  They could just barely see him.

"Your wand! Your wand!" Persepolis was not the only one shouting advice to the American, even though he probably couldn't hear.