The last weekend of September 1994.
At the top of the Astronomy Tower, it was close to noon when Ino skillfully said goodbye to Hermione.
Despite spending several hours chatting that morning, he didn't feel bored at all. In fact, he felt as if time had flown by.
---
That afternoon.
During lunch, the Great Hall was abuzz with excitement.
With the announcement having been posted, everyone knew that by 6 p.m. that evening, the students and staff of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang would be arriving at Hogwarts.
Therefore, even though it was a weekend, no one chose to go to Hogsmeade.
At the Gryffindor table.
After hastily finishing his meal, Ron was brimming with energy once again.
"Harry, did you hear? They've already decided on who will be the champions."
Ron's voice wasn't loud, but it seemed to carry, and in the ten-meter radius around him, many students slowed their eating, paying closer attention.
As a well-known gossip, Ron quickly noticed the change in his surroundings, and it pleased him greatly. He nodded in satisfaction.
But Ron wasn't able to continue before a voice cut through the air, contradicting him.
"There you go again! If the professors had really pre-selected the champions, I wouldn't bother attending the Triwizard Tournament at all."
The speaker was Dean Thomas, one of Harry and Ron's roommates.
After Dean spoke, another roommate, Seamus, whispered a bit more kindly:
"Let's hear him out. We don't have anything more interesting to talk about anyway."
In this five-person dormitory, alliances were perfectly displayed. Dean always had a tendency to contradict Ron, while Seamus, though closer to Dean, had enough of a relationship with Ron to stay neutral, trying to please both sides.
Meanwhile, Ron paid no attention to Dean's rebuttal. After all, this wasn't their dormitory; here, he had no shortage of listeners.
He looked around, saw the curious expressions of the nearby students, and cleared his throat, casting a meaningful glance at Harry.
"Harry, I just heard this secret bit of information—apparently, the professors accidentally let it slip…"
Despite calling it a secret, Ron's tone sounded more like he was giving a public speech.
A small-scale cultural salon was thus born.
But Ron wasn't the only one drawing attention. Across the Great Hall, groups of students engaged in lively discussions.
From pairs to groups of ten or more, everyone was speculating about who might be chosen as Hogwarts' champion.
Of course, each house hoped one of their own would be selected.
However, two names came up most frequently in these discussions: Ino and Cedric.
In truth, Cedric had spent six years at Hogwarts, earning a fair amount of respect. Although his reputation was mostly confined to Hogwarts itself, that was more than enough.
While everyone else was caught up in heated discussions, the atmosphere in the Slytherin house was somewhat gloomy. Thanks to Draco's inadvertent rumor-mongering, most of them now knew that Ino was unlikely to participate in the Triwizard Tournament.
Rationally, they understood that Ino's decision was the right one; after all, the Order of Merlin's award was certainly more prestigious than the honor of winning the Triwizard Tournament.
But emotionally, the Slytherins couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment.
Lunch ended quietly amidst the mixture of excitement and low spirits.
---
Time quickly moved on to the afternoon.
By 4 p.m., with the joint effort of all the prefects, the castle was emptied.
Not that anyone really needed to be reminded. Faced with such a rare event, no one was willing to miss it.
By the Black Lake.
Professor McGonagall had taken her place early at the designated spot.
Seemingly out of respect for the occasion, Professor McGonagall had not only donned a brand-new robe but also made sure to wear her pointed witch's hat with precision.
From a distance, the scene was almost picturesque.
By the lakeside stood an elderly witch, leading a neatly arranged group of students, all quietly standing together.
But as always, perfect moments are meant to be interrupted.
The first murmur of whispered conversation rippled through the crowd, gradually spreading and growing out of control.
What had begun as cautious whispers soon turned into bold chatter.
"Quiet! Get in line! Prefects, keep them in check!"
With the aid of magic, Professor McGonagall's voice echoed clearly across the crowd of students.
She seemed to be in a bad mood, and her tone reflected that, carrying a hint of frustration. Nevertheless, the effect was immediate: all the students instantly behaved, huddling like shy Puffskeins.
Once order was restored, Professor McGonagall turned back to gaze into the distance.
In truth, she was indeed in a foul mood, and the source of her frustration was none other than the renowned Order of Merlin.
"Insisting on October… they're such inflexible old fossils…"
McGonagall silently grumbled to herself. The three major wizarding schools of Europe had been secretly competing for hundreds of years, each wanting to be recognized as the best.
The Triwizard Tournament had been created for this very purpose—to allow the three schools to compete within a set of reasonable rules and determine, in name at least, who was the best.
However, she had heard rumors that her most promising student, Ino, might miss the tournament due to the Merlin Award ceremony taking place in October.
This upset her greatly.
As McGonagall fumed internally, the chatter behind her gradually grew louder once again.
"Silence! Everyone…"
At her shout, the students once more fell into a nervous hush.
Unlike McGonagall, who cared deeply about formalities, the other three heads of houses, including Dumbledore, stood silently by.
What followed was rather amusing—about every fifteen minutes, McGonagall's voice would ring out over the Black Lake, scolding the students.
---
One scolding for every fifteen minutes of peace.
After this cycle repeated six times, a full hour and a half had passed.
"It's 5:40. Do you think they'll be late? That would be a spectacle if they were."
Ron pulled out his pocket watch, a look of anticipation on his face, clearly waiting for something interesting to happen.
However, while he spoke casually, he did not put the watch away. Instead, he seemed to deliberately flaunt it.
It was a finely crafted mechanical watch with a thumbnail-sized red gemstone embedded in it.
The brilliant red gem occasionally caught the light, glinting brightly. Further back, George and Fred both exchanged looks of exasperation.
"I told you we should've just given him two Sickles to get rid of him! You insisted on two Galleons," Fred muttered, shaking his head.
"How was I supposed to know he'd show off like this? He won't be getting a Knut of pocket money from me ever again," George added, equally frustrated.
From afar, Ron's rather clumsy display of vanity made them both cringe.
At that moment, they genuinely regretted having generously given Ron pocket money after the Quidditch World Cup.
---
Coincidentally, as Ron subtly showed off his watch, Draco Malfoy also pulled out his own watch within the Slytherin group.
The difference was that Draco merely glanced at the time before putting it back.
"Ino, do you think they'll be late?"