The waltz found itself winding down, the dancing slowed, and as the last of the champions twirled and danced from the hall, Minerva made her way sprightly to the podium. Held tightly in her hand was a slip of parchment, and the feeling of anticipation permeated the air. The student body had been curious for days about the results from the second task, and pry as they might, the ones that actually knew the answer held their lips as tightly sealed as a gnome once it’s clamped down upon an unsuspecting finger.

Ancient though it was, the podium before her held a magic all its own. When one stood in the spot of power, it seemed as if the whole world was at one’s feet, and the world listened. Not a sound was made as the elderly witch found her place before her pupils and raised her wand. With a wave, the lighting in the hall blared to life, throwing light into the far reaches of the room, whereas the spotlight had been focused on the dance floor as the champions had their time to shine.

“The Tetrawizard Tournament is a time for us all to come together,” The headmistress of Hogwarts said, voice carrying easily across the vast room. “Whether we be in times of peace or strife, the tournament allows for the greatest witches and wizards of your generation to come together, to prove your worth, and to learn more about the world around you while you’re at it. Though it’s not always easy to find friendship through competition, I’m confident that each and every one of you will come from this experience a better person.”

“If I can keep your attention for a few more moments, I’d like to announce the scores from the second task, and then we’ll proceed with the ball,” She paused, and with a dramatic flourish, clapped her hands once. At once, all the Hogwarts banners across the hall shimmered and their colors swirled into a vortex. When the colors slowed to a stop, sitting in place was the crest of Salem Institute. “Coming in fourth, with 51 points, Salem Institute!” Another clap and the banners returned to their original state. “Third place is Hogwarts, with 63 points,” Now the banners changed once again, filling the space with the graceful crest of Beauxbatons. “At a very close second, we have Beauxbatons Academy, at 65 points,” With a final clap, the commanding Durmstrang banner took over the room, casting the glow of their earthy colors. “And in first place, we have Durmstrang Institute, earning 83 points for their school!”

She paused after every announcement, allowing the crowd to applaud and groan simultaneously, but when the Durmstrang winnings was announced, the din was almost unbearable and it took Minerva a quick sonorous to make her voice heard above the noise. “Well done, Durmstrang!” She called, clapping politely, though it was pretty obvious that she wished Hogwarts had been the victor.

“As things stand currently, we have Durmstrang in first, with a total of 325 points. Followed by Salem with 289 points. Then it’s Hogwarts with 269 points and coming in last, but certainly not least, is Beauxbatons with 214 points. Congratulations to all, and now let's enjoy the evening!” With that, Minerva stepped back from the podium and left the room in an uproar. The band started playing again and the headmistress ignored the complaints that Minerva hadn’t given away any information about the third task. They’d simply have to wait.

---

Tournament Scores
For a list of the current scores, please see below.

Second Task

• Durmstrang - 83 points
• Beauxbatons - 65 points
• Hogwarts - 63 points
• Salem - 51 points

Overall

• Durmstrang - 325 points
• Salem - 289 points
• Hogwarts - 269 points
• Beauxbatons - 214 points

"Well done Durmstang, indeed!" In the momentary lull as the Hogwarts Headmistress finished her speech, Auberon's already booming voice echoed along the hall and all but rattled the icicle decorations that hung from the ceiling. The clapping began and Auberon roared happily with the crowd that clapped for Durmstrang, chest puffed out rather like a balloon about to leave the ground, the grand and elegant dress robes he wore just adding to the effect. He made a point to leer at several people who looked disappointed - especially those wearing the Beauxbatons blue.

All was as it should be in the world, as far as Auberon was concerned. Faust had done better than he'd ever expected, and Strelnikov had done rather well himself. The ball was a nice occasion, the sort of thing he rather enjoyed in fact, and so to have his school's success heralded so publicly was a great boon to his mood. And ego, as well, naturally!

It was almost a pity that two of the Headmasters (Mistresses, really) were women; it was somewhat impolite to be smug at them. As for Freeolie or however the strange man's name was pronounced, he was hardly a satisfying target himself. Particularly because Auberon was never quite sure what the man was saying. At first he had assumed this was due to Auberon's less-then-perfect English, but it had eventually become apparent the issue was a language barrier with a language only LeBeau himself spoke.

Ah well - he had plenty of others whom could do with a good smug-over. Starting with some of the dignitaries from Beauxbatons, he decided. Perhaps they could discuss the differences between the two schools...purely in the spirit of cooperation, of course.

The official Champion's dance was over and Figaro and Sophie did as they'd all rehearsed and finished more or less in time and in the correct position with the other Champions and their dates.  All attention turned towards the front where Headmistress McGongagal was clearing her voice.

Figaro felt his stomach tie into a knot - the results.  He looked around for his co-Champion, Raine Almasy.  They'd finished their task dead last, but that didn't mean they'd done the worst, right? They'd made it through, but there was no telling how they'd fared in comparison to the others.  He had been trying not to care how well he did, but he couldn't shake the image from the Mirror of Erised... how he's seen himself the center of attention and everyone hanging on his words, the TriWizard Cup in his hands...

"Third...!"  he moaned as the Great Hall applauded.  "That's rubbish...I thought we did good..."

He knew, he knew he had to be a good sport about this - Hufflepuffs were supposed to be.  But he'd really tried his hardest to prepare. (Well, his pretty hardest...)  It just felt rotten to lose to mug-arse Durmstrang again.

He looked around for a glimpse of Faust - he was an okay guy.  And superman, apparently. 

Mace had known there was no reason to be worried, even if he had wound up coming out of the wrong end of Salem's tunnel. Or had the tunnels been looping around to excite the same entrance? He hadn't felt it the time he and Parker were in the gilded WEALTH tunnel.

He'd had the feeling their scores were piss-poor during the wrap up of the task, as the medics tried to figure out what Mace had done to his arm in order to untrasnfigure it. Human transfiguration was always risky business and part of Mace's problem was that he had grafted a mass of flooring to his arm during the process of turning it into a weapon to defeat a reanimated knight.

But all that business was behind him now. For tonight, Mace was in festive red robes that screamed 'lounge lizard' with hat adorned with recently holiday bred pygmy puffs, green ones with red spots like holly berries.

After the dance the scores were annouced and Mace applauded in good sportsmanship. There had been nothing to worry about. Salem had led so far during the First Task that they'd still been able to hold onto second place in the Tournament standings. Durmstrang was what, 36 points ahead? Easily picked up in whatever the next Task would be. The real question became who might be able to beat out Durmstrang first, Salem or Pigfarts Hogwarts.