Dumbledore strode into his office, the weight of a long day heavy on his shoulders. As Headmaster, his day was full of dreary, tedious tasks. But all wasn’t without a silver lining, he supposed. The students had reacted remarkably well, been enthused even, at the prospect of the Triwizard Tournament replacing Quidditch for the year. Pleased, Dumbledore began towards his desk to finish up the day’s work.
Suddenly, he heard a rapping at the window. He spotted an owl hovering in view, a piece of mail clutched in its claws. Puzzled yet intrigued, Dumbledore opened the window and admitted the creature. It dropped the mail into his hand: a Howler.
This was not the first Howler Dumbledore had received, nor, he speculated, would it be his last. With a slightly amused sigh, Dumbledore opened the envelope.
“YOU CAN’T JUST CANCEL QUIDDITCH!!!!!!!!” it screamed, Oliver Wood’s distraught voice echoing through the room.