As the South Park gang isn't really too involved with the Harry Potter plot line, and I'd really rather avoid messing with the Harry Potter universe too much, this is mostly slice-of-life and just. How it was for students that are not Harry Potter. So, no alien spaceships are going to crash in Hogwarts property.

The gathered first-years all came rushing into the school, thoroughly soaked from the rain. After arriving at the station, they'd been put onto boats that would cross a lake and bring them to the entrance of their school. It was, tradition be damned, a pretty bad idea.

A kid even ended up falling into the water.

And then, this little, floating man threw water balloons at them, causing Kenny to shout a stream of curses. He continued whispering profanities even after entering the Great Hall and only stopped when Stan nudged him with his shoulder.

The witch that had swept them into the Hall, Professor McGonagall, had placed a three-legged stool on the ground with a beat-up, pointy hat on top. There was a moment of silence where everyone stared at the dirty hat before a rip near its brim opened wide, and it sang:

"A thousand years or more ago,
When I was newly sewn,
There lived four wizards of renown,
Whose names are still well known:
Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,
Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,
Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,
Shrewd Slytherin, from fen.
They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,
They hatched a daring plan
To educate young sorcerers
Thus Hogwarts school began.
Now each of these four founders
Formed their own house, for each
Did value different virtues
In the ones they had to teach.
By Gryffindor, the bravest were
Prized far beyond the rest;
For Ravenclaw, the cleverest
Would always be the best;
For Hufflepuff, hard workers were
Most worthy of admission;
And power-hungry Slytherin
Loved those of great ambition.
While still alive they did divide
Their favorites from the throng,
Yet how to pick the worthy ones
When they were dead and gone?
'Twas Gryffindor who found the way,
He whipped me off his head
The founders put some brains in me
So I could choose instead!
Now slip me snug about your ears,
I've never yet been wrong,
I'll have a look inside your mind
And tell where you belong!

Cartman leaned over to stage-whisper to Kenny. "Aw, we have to put that thing on? Weak."

In Kenny's honest opinion, it hadn't looked too unappealing, but a mean little side of him (that sounded way too much like Cartman to be comfortable) whispered that it was in the state that much of his belongings were in, already. He shook his head and watched Professor McGonagall unroll a scroll of paper.

"When I call out your name, you will put on the Hat and sit on the stool," she told them. "When the Hat announces your house, you will go and sit at the appropriate table."

She cleared her throat. "Ackerley, Stewart!"

A boy near the back of the line stepped toward the stool, shaking all the while, before finally placing the Hat on his head. After a moment:


He hurried into a seat at the table that cheered the loudest, filled with students wearing black robes trimmed with blue.

"Baddock, Malcolm" joined the Slytherins, a group that, like the Ravenclaws, had black robes-trimmed with green rather than blue.

"Branstone, Eleanor" ended up with the Hufflepuffs, who wore black robes trimmed with yellow.

Kyle was the next to be called up. He stared down at the Hat for a moment before simply placing it on top of his ushanka. He looked pretty fucking stupid.


A call for "Cartman, Eric" interrupted Cartman's snickers and made him go up to be Sorted. He was almost immediately placed in Slytherin.

Afterwards, "Cauldwell, Owen" was put into Hufflepuff and "Creevey, Dennis," the boy who'd fallen into the lake, was Sorted into the Gryffindor house, whose students wore black robes trimmed with red.

"Dobbs, Emma!"


Even with the loud applause erupting every few moments, Kenny could feel himself falling asleep before "Marsh, Stan" was called up.

He jumped as his friend walked up to the Hat, and he looked around. There weren't many people left in the line, now.


Kenny's name was called as Stan went to go take his seat at the Hufflepuff's table. Lowering his hood as he made his way toward the stool, Kenny briefly glanced at the Hat before plopping it on his head and sitting down.

He stared at the dark material that went over his eyes. There were flecks of dust in it, so he made a mental note to not breathe so deeply. He's never died from choking on dust, and he's not willing to start (although, he's probably just being paranoid).

"You're a very careful child, I see," a voice softly crooned to him. "You don't wish to be hurt. But, willing to throw caution to the wind for those precious to you? Interesting. You're very resourceful as well, if the situation calls for it. Hmm... How would you feel if you were put in Gryffindor?"

Kenny thought it over. An affirmative feeling rose in his mind.

"Alright then, I'll put you in Gryffindor!" The Hat yelled the last word out for the houses to hear, and applause rang out from the Gryffindor table.

Blinking at the sudden brightness of the room, Kenny set the Hat back on the stool and stumbled his way to the table before taking a seat. He gave a small wave to the other first-years before looking at the High Table he could now properly see. A stereotypical wizard-figure was sitting at the center of the table, silver hair and beard glowing as he smiled kindly at his students, old and new. To his right was an empty seat, presumably Professor McGonagall's, and next to that seat was a very vampiric looking man. Whereas the old man before had smiled at all of the students, Mr. Vampire looked down his hooked nose to see the students. To the silver old man's left sat Hagrid, the giant man who had led the first-years across the lake and to the school. Another empty seat sat on Hagrid's other side.

Getting bored of the High Table, Kenny looked around at the other tables, eyes widening upon spotting the ghosts that drifted around the Hall. He squeaked, pulled his hood back up, and tightened the opening so only his nose showed. Another Gryffindor boy, who just joined their table, watched him curiously and spent the rest of the Sorting trying to get Kenny to show his face again.

Silence reigned across the Great Hall as the old wizard stood and told the students in a warm voice, "I have only two words to say to you: Tuck in."

Kenny widened, then lowered his hood as the sounds of people eating filled the Hall. "Whoa."

He briefly wondered where all of the food had come from but instead started to try everything nearby. Likewise, the other first-years had begun to devour their own food, somewhat introducing theirselves between mouthfuls of food. After sometime, when people slowed to occasionally taking a bite of their food, the dinner disappeared and was replaced by ice creams, cookies, donuts, puddings, and really all things sweet.

"My brother, Colin here, has told me some about the Quidditch teams the UK has, but I still don't know too much about them?" The boy sitting across from Kenny, whose name was Dennis, asked the boy next to him, whose name was Alyn.

"Quidditch? What's that?" Kenny asked. Both of the boys looked at him.

Alyn grinned. "It's a wizarding sport played up on broomsticks. Very popular in magical society, of course. Just this summer, Ireland and Bulgaria faced off in the Quidditch World Cups! Ireland won, of course." He nodded proudly. "My father was able to earn tickets to see the game."

His expression turned dark. "The Death Eaters managed to ruin it, though."

Dennis's eyes widened. "Death Eaters?"

Alyn nodded again, more seriously. "They're the followers of..." He glanced around. "You-Know-Who."


"Who is You-Know-Who? What does he do?"

Dennis was the one to respond. "He was the most Dark wizard of Dark wizards, Kenny. Truly believed that the only good wizards were those from purely magical families. Like, the Hitler of the wizarding world!"

His eyes brightened as he added, "The only one who could defeat him was Harry Potter, who is probably one of the most powerful wizards of our generation!" He smiles with excitement and leans in. "And the best part is! We're sitting at the same table he's sitting at right now!"

Alyn chuckles at Dennis's enthusiasm. "Yep, a fourth-year Gryffindor who had so much magic that when You-Know-Who tried to kill baby Potter, his magic backfired and killed him instead." He glanced further down the table. "It's pretty easy to pick him out. Black hair, bright green eyes, and a thunderbolt scar on his forehead. Doesn't he play for Gryffindor's Quidditch team?"

Dennis nodded. "As a Seeker."

"What's a Seeker do?" The two began to explain the wizarding sport, only managing to finish talking about the roles each player has before being interrupted by the desserts also disappearing.

The old man, Kenny learned his name was Headmaster Dumbledore, stood once more with a smile. "So! Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it." Kenny looked at Alyn questioningly, who shrugged his shoulders. "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year.

"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the inter-house Quidditch Cup will not take place this year." Several cries of outrage came from various directions. Dumbledore raised a hand. "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy-but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts-"

Thunder interrupted his announcement as the doors of the Great Hall opened wide, revealing a menacing figure leaning on a long staff. The gray-haired stranger clunked his way to the High Table, stopping in front Professor Dumbledore to quietly converse. The stranger was frightening, perhaps because of the way he occasionally sipped from his flask, shaking like Tweek on a good day, or one of the crackheads that hung around Kenny's house sometimes. Maybe it was his wooden leg, with claws so sharp they looked like they could pierce bone. Or his eyes, most likely, one squinting and dark, looking over the Hall once suspiciously before digging into his food while his other eye, electric blue and bulging out of the socket, swiveled around restlessly, looking anywhere and everywhere without stopping.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Dumbledore beams. "Professor Moody." Dumbledore and Hagrid were the only ones to clap for the new professor, everyone else struck dumb by his appearance.

After a moment of silence, the headmaster cleared his throat. "As I was saying, we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event which has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

There was another beat of silence. "You're JOKING!" Someone from Kenny's table called out.

The tension in the room snapped, and everyone let out somewhat hysterical laughter.

Dumbledore chuckled and replied, "I am not joking, Mr. Weasley, though, now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar-"

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat.

"Er-but maybe this is not the…" the headmaster laughed. "Where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament...well, some of you will not know what this Tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely.

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago, as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry-Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the Tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities-until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the Tournament was discontinued."

The students simultaneously chattered excitedly and shushed each other as Dumbledore went on. "There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the Tournament, none of which have been very successful. However, our own Departments of International Magical Co-operation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that, this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger.

"The Heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money." Alyn, hearing this, sat up at full attention, and Kenny could feel himself doing the same. Dying sucked, but it would be worth it if he got a thousand golden whatchamacallits in the end.

Dumbledore continued, "Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts, the Heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age-that is to say, seventeen years or older-will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This" - He raised his voice above various students' complaints - "is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the Tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion. I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen.

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October, and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

The students were dismissed to their dorms, so Kenny and the other Gryffindor first-years began to head toward their dorms. He felt a pull on the back of his robes before he was yanked back, almost falling onto the floor. Once he'd steadied himself, he turned and found Cartman waiting. "The fuck was that for, Eric?"

"Kenny, we need to figure out a way to get to participate in that tournament!"

"What? Okay, dude," Kenny added after seeing Cartman begin to argue back. "We'll talk about this later, I need to catch up with my house."

As he turned away, he heard Cartman mutter, "I like hooded Kenny better."

I actually forgot about Moody's entrance into the story (and the Triwizard Tournament lmao) and had to go back and rewrite that, oops. This chapter has so much in it oh gosh I don't usually write this much. AND MOST OF IT IS FROM THE BOOK ITSELF.