“I think we're about to start getting into the tournament,” he said.
“Why do you say that?” Luna asked.
“This chapter is called Beauxbatons and Durmstrang,” Harry said. “And those were the names of the schools mentioned several chapters ago as who was participating in this tournament, right?”
“Yeah,” Cedric said.
“So the tournament is definitely coming closer,” Hermione said. Harry nodded, going back to the book.
Early next morning, Harry woke with a plan fully formed in his mind, as though his sleeping brain had been working on it all night.
“I wouldn't be surprised if it had been,” Harry said.
He got up, dressed in the pale dawn light, left the dormitory without waking Ron and went back down to the deserted common room. Here he took a piece of parchment from the table upon which his Divination homework still lay, and wrote the following letter:
“You're going to try to convince him that you were just imagining it,” Luna said.
“It probably won't work,” Hermione said. “You're letter most likely sounded too rationally written for someone who was just imagining it, and I wouldn't be surprised if one of your parents would do something like that, which would convince him that you're lying as well.”
Dear Sirius,
I reckon I just imagined my scar hurting, I was half-asleep when I wrote to you last time. There’s no point coming back, everything’s fine here. Don’t worry about me, my head feels completely normal.
Harry
“I yeah, I doubt that would work all that well,” Cedric said.
He then climbed out of the portrait hole, up through the silent castle (held up only briefly by Peeves, who tried to overturn a large vase on him halfway along the fourth-floor corridor),
“That would have been annoying to have happen,” Hermione said.
finally arriving at the Owlery, which was situated at the top of West Tower.
The Owlery was a circular stone room; rather cold and draughty, because none of the windows had glass in them.
“Since the owls have to get in and out of it, it makes sense that they wouldn't,” Luna said.
The floor was entirely covered in straw, owl droppings and the regurgitated skeletons of mice and voles. Hundreds upon hundreds of owls of every breed imaginable were nestled here on perches that rose right up to the top of the tower, nearly all of them asleep, though here and there a round amber eye glared at Harry.
“I don't think that they're happy to have you there,” Hermione said.
He spotted Hedwig nestled between a barn owl and a tawny, and hurried over to her, sliding a little on the dropping-strewn floor.
It took him a little while to persuade her to wake up and then to look at him as she kept shuffling around on her perch, showing him her tail.
“She's still not happy with you,” Cedric said, laughing a bit.
She was evidently still furious about his lack of gratitude the previous night. In the end, it was Harry suggesting she might be too tired, and that perhaps he would ask Ron to borrow Pigwidgeon, that made her stick out her leg and allow him to tie the letter to it.
“So, you blackmailed her, how nice,” Luna said.
“Just find him, all right?” Harry said, stroking her back as he carried her on his arm to one of the holes in the wall. “Before the Dementors do.”
She nipped his finger, perhaps rather harder than she would ordinarily have done, but hooted softly in a reassuring sort of way all the same.
“I think that she probably can feel your worry a bit,” Luna said. “If you two have bonded in anyway at all.”
Then she spread her wings and took off into the sunrise. Harry watched her out of sight with the familiar feeling of unease back in his stomach. He had been so sure that Sirius’ reply would alleviate his worries rather than increasing them.
“You know, I'm sure that, once you get to a certain point where you don't worry as much any more, I have the feeling that you're be very glad to have him near you,” Cedric said.
“That was a lie, Harry,” said Hermione sharply over breakfast, when he told her and Ron what he had done. “You didn’t imagine your scar hurting and you know it.”
“But that doesn't matter to me. What matters is that he keeps safe,” Harry said. “I will not let him go back to Azkaban because of me.”
“So what?” said Harry. “He’s not going back to Azkaban because of me.”
“Drop it,” said Ron sharply to Hermione, as she opened her mouth to argue some more, and for once, Hermione heeded him, and fell silent.
“I probably did that because, even though I'm not happy that you lied, I know that you did it because you had a reason to do it,” Hermione said.
Harry did his best not to worry about Sirius over the next couple of weeks.
“I really doubt that it'll work all that well,” Cedric said.
True, he could not stop himself looking anxiously around every morning when the post owls arrived, nor, late at night before he went to sleep, prevent himself seeing horrible visions of Sirius, cornered by Dementors down some dark London street, but between times he tried to keep his mind off his godfather. He wished he still had Quidditch to distract him;
“I can understand why you're wishing that,” Hermione said.
nothing worked so well on a troubled mind as a good, hard training session. On the other hand, their lessons were becoming more difficult and demanding than ever before, particularly Defence Against the Dark Arts.
“That really doesn't surprise me,” Cedric said. “It would be disappointing to learn if that class wasn't becoming difficult.”
To their surprise, Professor Moody had announced that he would be putting the Imperius curse on each of them in turn, to demonstrate its power and to see whether they could resist its effects.
“But, he's not allowed to do that, is he?” Hermione asked.
“Well, I do think that people can get permission to do that, if they have a good reason. It's possible that, if Dumbledore is aware of what Moody is teaching, he may have given the permission to him himself. As the Chief Warlock, he is allowed to do that, after all,” Cedric said.
“But – but you said it’s illegal, Professor,” said Hermione uncertainly, as Moody cleared away the desks with a sweep of his wand, leaving a large clear space in the middle of the room.
“Yeah, but that doesn't mean that there are not those who would do that spell on you without a problem,” Cedric said. “And how would you rather deal with it: in a classroom wit someone you trust, or by an enemy who might tell you to kill your family?”
“I think I can see what you mean. And, if it came down to it, I'd rather do it in a classroom with someone who can help over anything else,” Hermione said.
“You said – to use it against another human was –“
“I really should think that they're might be a reason why he's showing it in class,” Hermione said.
“Dumbledore wants you taught what it feels like,” said Moody, his magical eye swivelling onto Hermione and fixing her with an eerie, unblinking stare. “If you’d rather learn the hard way – when someone’s putting it on you so they can control you completely – fine by me. You’re excused. Off you go.”
He pointed one gnarled finger towards the door. Hermione went very pink, and muttered something about not meaning that she wanted to leave.
“There's no way I would leave such an important class,” Hermione said.
Harry and Ron grinned at each other. They knew Hermione would rather eat Bubotuber pus than miss such an important lesson.
“I might not go to that extreme, but you are right, I wouldn't want to miss an important lesson,” Hermione said, looking at Harry when she said that.
Moody began to beckon students forwards in turn and put the Imperius curse upon them. Harry watched as, one by one, his classmates did the most extraordinary things under its influence.
“I doubt it'll be anything truly bad,” Hermione said.
Dean Thomas hopped three times around the room, singing the national anthem. Lavender Brown imitated a squirrel. Neville performed a series of quite astonishing gymnastics he would certainly not have been capable of in his normal state. Not one of them seemed to be able to fight the curse off,
“As mentioned, it's not completely easy to do so,” Cedric said.
and each of them recovered only when Moody had removed it.
“Potter,” Moody growled, “you next.”
“Oh, lovely, it's time to know what my humiliation will be,” Harry said.
Harry moved forward into the middle of the classroom, into the space that Moody had cleared of desks. Moody raised his wand, pointed it at Harry, and said, “Imperio.”
It was the most wonderful feeling. Harry felt a floating sensation as every thought and worry in his head was wiped gently away, leaving nothing but a vague, untraceable happiness. He stood there feeling immensely relaxed, only dimly aware of everyone watching him.
“That must be why it's so hard to fight, because it feels so nice that you don't want to fight it,” Hermione said. “Because it feels good to be under it.”
And then he heard Mad-Eye Moody’s voice, echoing in some distant chamber of his empty brain: Jump onto the desk ... jump onto the desk ...
Harry bent his knees obediently, preparing to spring.
Jump onto the desk ...
Why, though?
Another voice had awoken in the back of his brain. Stupid thing to do, really, said the voice.
Jump onto the desk ...
No, I don’t think I will, thanks, said the other voice, a little more firmly ... no, I don’t really want to ...
Jump! NOW!
“You're fighting it, and on the first try, too,” Cedric said, sounding awed.
“I don't think that I'll do it too well, though,” Harry said.
The next thing Harry felt was considerable pain. He had both jumped and tried to prevent himself from jumping – the result was that he’d smashed headlong into the desk, knocking it over, and, by the feeling in his legs, fractured both his kneecaps.
“Owe,” Harry said.
“Do you really think you actually did fracture your kneecaps?” Hermione said.
“I hope not,” Harry said.
“Now, that’s more like it!” growled Moody’s voice, and suddenly Harry felt the empty, echoing feeling in his head disappear. He remembered exactly what was happening, and the pain in his knees seemed to double.
“Owe,” Harry said again.
“Look at that, you lot ... Potter fought! He fought it, and he damn near beat it! We’ll try that again, Potter, and the rest of you, pay attention – watch his eyes, that’s where you see it – very good, Potter, very good indeed! They’ll have trouble controlling you!”
“I wonder how many times he'll be making you do that,” Cedric said.
“The way he talks,” Harry muttered, as he hobbled out of the Defence Against the Dark Arts class an hour later (Moody had insisted on putting Harry through his paces four times in a row, until Harry could throw the curse off entirely),
“So, you had to do it until it wasn't effective on you,” Cedric said. “That's good, though it'll only work with him, and doesn't say for sure that you'll be able to throw off someone else's Imperius curse, though I wouldn't be surprised if you are able to.”
“you’d think we were all going to be attacked any second.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Ron, who was skipping on every alternate step.
“I have a feeling that he really didn't do all that good in resisting the curse. In fact, the fact that he's skipping ever other step says that he was even worse at resisting than the others,” Luna said.
He had had much more difficulty with the curse than Harry, though Moody assured him the effects would have worn off by lunchtime. “Talk about paranoid ...” Ron glanced nervously over his shoulder to check that Moody was definitely out of earshot, and went on, “No wonder they were glad to get shot of him at the Ministry, did you hear him telling Seamus what he did to that witch who shouted 'boo' behind him on April Fools’ Day? And when are we supposed to read up on resisting the Imperius curse with everything else we’ve got to do?”
“Actually, if it's reading, then it shouldn't be that hard,” Cedric said.
All the fourth-years had noticed a definite increase in the amount of work they were required to do this term. Professor McGonagall explained why, when the class gave a particularly loud groan at the amount of Transfiguration homework she had set.
“It's because you're even closer to your O.W.L.s than before,” Cedric said. “They are the next year for you guys.”
“You are now entering a most important phase of your magical education!” she told them, her eyes glinting dangerously behind her square spectacles. “Your Ordinary Wizarding Levels are drawing closer –“
“I doubt people are going to like hearing that little fact,” Luna said.
“We don’t take O.W.Ls ’til fifth year!” said Dean Thomas indignantly.
“Doesn't mean that the teachers don't believe that you should start studying for them sooner rather than later,” Cedric said.
“Maybe not, Thomas, but believe me, you need all the preparation you can get! Miss Granger remains the only person in this class who has managed to turn a hedgehog into a satisfactory pincushion. I might remind you that your pincushion, Thomas, still curls up in fright if anyone approaches it with a pin!”
“Yeah, that's not something all that productive about having your pincushion doing,” Luna said.
Hermione, who had turned rather pink again, seemed to be trying not to look too pleased with herself.
“I most likely failed miserably,” Hermione said.
Harry and Ron were deeply amused when Professor Trelawney told them that they had received top marks for their homework in their next Divination class.
“Yeah, she's such an idiot to believe what we wrote,” Harry said, shaking her head.
She read out large portions of their predictions, commending them for their unflinching acceptance of the horrors in store for them – but they were less amused when she asked them to do the same thing for the month after next;
“Wait a moment. If she believes that what we wrote was true, there's no way we could do it for the month afterwards, since we'll be dead,” Harry said.
“That just goes to show what an nitwit she is,” Luna said.
both of them were running out of ideas for catastrophes.
Meanwhile Professor Binns, the ghost who taught History of Magic, had them writing weekly essays on the Goblin Rebellions of the eighteenth century. Professor Snape was forcing them to research antidotes.
“That's probably one that we're taking the most seriously,” Hermione said.
They took this seriously, as he had hinted that he might be poisoning one of them before Christmas to see if their antidote worked. Professor Flitwick had asked them to read three extra books in preparation for their lesson on Summoning Charms.
Even Hagrid was adding to their workload. The Blast-Ended Skrewts were growing at a remarkable pace, given that nobody had yet discovered what they ate.
“Which makes it sound as though they just eat whatever,” Hermione said. “And I do not think that it's a good think that they're growing, either.”
Hagrid was delighted and, as part of their ‘project’, suggested that they come down to his hut on alternate evenings to observe the Skrewts and make notes on their extraordinary behaviour.
“No, how about not,” Harry said.
“I will not,” said Draco Malfoy flatly, when Hagrid had proposed this with the air of Father Christmas pulling an extra large toy out of his sack.
“Of course he'd see it like a treat,” Hermione said.
“I see enough of these foul things during lessons, thanks.”
Hagrid’s smile faded from his face.
“I don't think he's all that happy to hear that,” Luna said.
“Yeh’ll do wha’ yer told,” he growled, “or I’ll be takin’ a leaf outta Professor Moody’s book ... I hear yeh made a good ferret, Malfoy.”
The four laughed at that.
“It seems that Hagrid has found a way to put Malfoy down, thus getting back at him for what Malfoy tried to do the previous year,” Cedric said.
“Good for him,” Hermione said.
The Gryffindors roared with laughter. Malfoy flushed with anger, but apparently the memory of Moody’s punishment was still sufficiently painful to stop him retorting.
“It looks like it was effective I teaching him a bit,” Cedric said.
Harry, Ron and Hermione returned to the castle at the end of the lesson in high spirits; seeing Hagrid put down Malfoy was particularly satisfying, especially because Malfoy had done his very best to get Hagrid sacked the previous year.
When they arrived in the Entrance Hall, they found themselves unable to proceed owing to the large crowd of students congregated there, all milling around a large sign which had been erected at the foot of the marble staircase.
“I think the time for the announcement of when the other two schools are coming is on that sign,” Hermione said. “That's really the only thing that I can think of that would have that kind of reaction from everyone.”
Ron, the tallest of the three, stood on tiptoe to see over the heads in front of them and read the sign aloud to the other two.
TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT
The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at 6 o’clock on Friday 30th of October. Lessons will end half an hour early –
“That's going to be something that'll make everyone happy,” Cedric said.
“Brilliant!” said Harry. “It’s Potions last thing on Friday! Snape won’t have time to poison us all!”
“That makes it even better, for the fourth year Gryffindors, anyway,” Hermione said.
Students will return their bags and books to their dormitories and assemble in front of the castle to greet our guests before the Welcoming Feast.
“So, there's going to be another feast,” Cedric said, looking pensive, “and with the fact that there's a feast on the thirty-first as well...”
“We'll be having two feast in a row,” Hermione said.
“Only a week away!”
“So we're definitely coming close to it,” Harry said.
said Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff, emerging from the crowd, his eyes gleaming. “I wonder if Cedric knows? Think I’ll go and tell him ...”
“I wonder why Ernie's telling you,” Hermione said. “And why is he calling you by your first name?”
“We're related, and, while this is true for all true pure-bloods here in Britain, Ernie MacMillan and I are related to each other more closely than we are to others, in that we can trace our relations to someone in the last seven generations,” Cedric said.
“Why didn't you tell us this in the second book, when he was introduced?” Hermione asked.
“It didn't come up, and I didn't see a need to mention it before,” Cedric said. “Plus, with the way he was acting, I wasn't about to say that we were related, especially when I didn't agree completely with the way he was acting. While I could understand it, it doesn't mean that I thought he was right to do what he was doing.”
“Oh,” Hermione said. “So, that's why he's the one telling you and why he's calling you by your first name?”
“Yes and no,” Cedric said. “Being related is why he's telling me, but, in Hufflepuff, more often than not, everyone is called by their first name, even if you're just an acquaintance. We try to make sure we know everyone's name there.”
“Cedric?” said Ron blankly, as Ernie hurried off.
“I guess he doesn't know what my first name is,” Cedric said.
“It's more likely that he just doesn't care about you enough to bother learning it,” Hermione said.
“Diggory,” said Harry. “He must be entering the Tournament.”
“That idiot, Hogwarts champion?” said Ron,
“Oh, how nice,” Cedric said dryly.
“You're not an idiot,” Hermione said, her eyes narrowed. “Just because he can't compare to you doesn't mean that he has a right to put you down and call you what he did.”
“Thanks,” Cedric said, smiling at her. He was glad that she was defending him, though he wondered if she'd do it in the book as well.
as they pushed their way through the chattering crowd towards the staircase.
“He’s not an idiot, you just don’t like him because he beat Gryffindor at Quidditch,” said Hermione.
“That is true,” Harry said.
“I’ve heard he’s a really good student – and he’s a Prefect.”
She spoke as though this settled the matter.
“To me, it kind of does,” Hermione said.
“You only like him because he’s handsome,” said Ron scathingly.
“I do not,” Hermione said, blushing a bit.
“Excuse me, I don’t like people just because they’re handsome!” said Hermione indignantly.
No one looked at her, though they all were thinking the same thing: About how her book self had been infatuated with Lockhart, mostly because he was handsome.
Ron gave a loud false cough, which sounded oddly like “Lockhart!”.
“He's not going to let me forget that, is he?” Hermione said.
“It's very doubtful,” Cedric said.
The appearance of the sign in the Entrance Hall had a marked effect upon the inhabitants of the castle. During the following week, there seemed to be only one topic of conversation, no matter where Harry went: the Triwizard Tournament. Rumours were flying from student to student like highly contagious germs: who was going to try for Hogwarts champion, what the Tournament would involve, how the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang differed from themselves.
“They probably differ by language and what they learn,” Hermione said.
Harry noticed, too, that the castle seemed to be undergoing an extra-thorough cleaning. Several grimy portraits had been scrubbed, much to the displeasure of their subjects, who sat huddled in their frames muttering darkly and wincing as they felt their raw pink faces.
“Does that actually hurt them?” Harry asked.
“No, but most of them probably enjoy being grimy for some reason,” Hermione said.
The suits of armour were suddenly gleaming and moving without squeaking, and Argus Filch, the caretaker, was behaving so ferociously to any student who forgot to wipe their shoes that he terrified a pair of first-year girls into hysterics.
“I hope someone used a spell on him for doing that, because it's a mistake that anyone could make,” Cedric said, frowning at the actions of Filch.
Other members of staff seemed oddly tense, too.
“Longbottom, kindly do not reveal that you can’t even perform a simple Switching Spell in front of anyone from Durmstrang!” Professor McGonagall barked at the end of one particularly difficult lesson,
“That's just a bit mean,” Hermione said.
during which Neville had accidentally transplanted his own ears onto a cactus.
“But kind of needed,” Luna said.
“Yeah, I can see what you mean,” Hermione said.
When they went down to breakfast on the morning of the thirtieth of October, they found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight.
“It's probably decorated with the house colours and and animals,” Luna said.
Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts house – red with a gold lion for Gryffindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teachers’ table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger and snake united around a large letter ‘H’.
Harry, Ron and Hermione spotted Fred and George at the Gryffindor table. Once again, and most unusually, they were sitting apart from everyone else and conversing in low voices.
“They are definitely not acting like themselves, and therefore are actually drawing more attention to themselves,” Hermione said.
Ron led the way over to them.
“It’s a bummer all right,” George was saying gloomily to Fred. “But if he won’t talk to us in person, we’ll have to send him the letter after all. Or we’ll stuff it into his hand, he can’t avoid us for ever.”
“Definitely Bagman,” Cedric muttered, knowing that's really the only person it could be that would do it. He knew from his father that Bagman had a history of avoiding people if he'd wronged them in some way or another. Of course, Cedric had never heard
“Who’s avoiding you?” said Ron, sitting down next to them.
“Wish you would,” said Fred, looking irritated at the interruption.
“What’s a bummer?” Ron asked George.
“Having a nosy git like you for a brother,” said George.
“Yeah, I'm not really surprised at their answers. What they have going on doesn't concern him, after all,” Hermione said.
“You two got any ideas on the Triwizard Tournament yet?” Harry asked. “Thought any more about trying to enter?”
“I asked McGonagall how the champions are chosen but she wasn’t telling,” said George bitterly. “She just told me to shut up and get on with Transfiguring my raccoon.”
“So we know that he got an O.W.L. in that subject,” Cedric said.
“Wonder what the tasks are going to be?” said Ron thoughtfully. “You know, I bet we could do them, Harry, we’ve done dangerous stuff before ...”
“Which we've also only survived by luck, for the most part,” Harry pointed out.
“Not in front of a panel of judges, you haven’t,” said Fred. “McGonagall says the champions get awarded points according to how well they’ve done the tasks.”
“Who are the judges?” Harry asked.
“Well, I would imagine that the heads of the schools are among them,” Cedric said. “And I think the heads of the Departments of Sports and Magical Cooperation from the hosting school's ministry has something to do with it as well.”
“Well, the Heads of the participating schools are always on the panel,” said Hermione, and everyone looked around at her, rather surprised, “because all three of them were injured during the Tournament of 1792, when a cockatrice the champions were supposed to be catching went on the rampage.”
“Which means that chances are one of the tasks will definitely have some sort of dangerous creatures in it, unless the rules have changed that,” Luna said. Hermione frowned at knowledge.
She noticed them all looking at her and said, with her usual air of impatience that nobody else had read all the books she had,
“It would annoy me quite a bit if that happened, mostly because they know that I've read a lot of books, but they always seem surprise when I say something that they don't know,” Hermione said.
“It’s all in Hogwarts: A History. Though, of course, that book’s not entirely reliable.”
“I take it that the book doesn't actually say that there are house-elves at the school,” Hermione said.
“No, because the book is mostly about it's actual history. Employing house-elves doesn't count,” Cedric said. “Though, I wouldn't be surprised if they gave some of the information in it. I mean, house-elves are among the longest living being that can speak, and they do tend to tell stories about their master's that they've served to children of that family and stuff, unless forbidden to do so by the actual master of the elf.”
“ 'A Revised History of Hogwarts' would be a more accurate title. Or 'A Highly Biased and Selective History of Hogwarts, Which Glosses Over the Nastier Aspects of the School'.”
“Said nastier aspect mostly being the house-elves,” Hermione added in.
“What are you on about?” said Ron,
“He really has to ask,” Harry said, shaking his head.
though Harry thought he knew what was coming.
“I think it's only a thought because there is a very small chance that you might actually surprise me,” Hermione said.
“House-elves!” said Hermione loudly and proving Harry right. “Not once, in over a thousand pages, does Hogwarts: A History mention that we are all colluding in the oppression of a hundred slaves!”
Hermione shook her head at that. While someone not being paid with money to do the things that house-elves did might be slavery in the Muggle world, they weren't a part of the Muggle world. They were a part of the magical one, which made all of the difference. She really, really hoped that her book self realized that, and soon. After all, she had the feeling that not only would she get tired of how her book self was acting, but the others would as well. At the moment, she was kind of happy that no one was getting on her case about it.
Harry shook his head, and applied himself to his scrambled eggs. His and Ron’s lack of enthusiasm had done nothing whatsoever to curb Hermione’s determination to pursue justice for house-elves. True, both of them had paid two Sickles for a S.P.E.W badge, but they had only done it to keep her quiet.
“We had the feeling that would be the case,” Harry said.
Their Sickles had been wasted, however; if anything, they seemed to have made Hermione more vociferous. She had been badgering Harry and Ron ever since, firstly to wear the badges,
“No offence, but there is no way you'll catch me wearing spew on it, especially since, no matter how you put it or how much your book self may argue, that's ultimately what is on the badges,” Harry said.
then to persuade others to do the same,
“They shouldn't be forced to force your wants down another's throat,” Luna said. “Particularly since some of those whom you are speaking to may actually know more about them than you do, and know that freeing them would be the worse thing possible.”
and she had also taken to rattling around the Gryffindor common room every evening, cornering people and shaking the collecting tin under their noses.
“Yeah, your not trying to gather people to listen to you, your forcing them to do so, which doesn't help you at all,” Cedric said. “No one is going to take you seriously by doing that.”
“You do realise that your sheets are changed, your fires lit, your classrooms cleaned and your food cooked by a group of magical creatures who are unpaid and enslaved?” she kept saying fiercely.
“Which, to those who know more about elves than you don't, just shows how ignorant and idiot you are,” Luna said. Hermione frowned, though she could understand why Luna was saying that she was an idiot. Didn't mean that she cared for it all that much.
“Not only that, but, if they're trying to tell you, the fact is that you didn't listen shows that you have no respect for opinions other than your own, and that they're most likely not respect you in return for such attitude,” Cedric pointed out.
“And, if any of them know how you are, they won't even bother trying to tell you, because they know that you won't listen to them, despite the fact that some of them might actually know something you don't,” Harry added in. “Especially those who may have grown up in that world, or may have even researched it before you did, and actually talked to the elves and took in what they had to say.”
Some people, like Neville, had paid up just to stop Hermione glowering at them.
“The weak willed ones,” Hermione said.
A few seemed mildly interested in what she had to say, but were reluctant to take a more active role in campaigning.
“The ones who don't have any information other than what you tell them, but also know that it might be better not to just assume anything about what they're being told if they don't know what it's about,” Cedric said. “That, or they have house elves themselves and can't help but compare what you're saying about them to what's they know of their elves.”
Many regarded the whole thing as a joke.
“Which doesn't surprise me all that much,” Hermione said.
Ron now rolled his eyes at the ceiling, which was flooding them all in autumn sunlight, and Fred became extremely interested in his bacon (both twins had refused to buy a S.P.E.W. badge).
“They might not own any elves, but they've most likely been to the kitchens and knows how the elves there feel, so they know that what you want isn't the right thing,” Cedric said.
George, however, leant towards Hermione.
“He's going to try and reason with me,” Hermione said. “Won't work, but you do have it give him points.”
“Listen, have you ever been down in the kitchens, Hermione?”
“No, of course not,” said Hermione curtly,
“Which makes what I'm saying wrong, since I have no idea how the house-elves there like it and all,” Hermione said. “I just assumed that, because they don't get paid, it means that they're obviously miserable, and, even if I see them all happy, I'll just think that they're brainwashed to think that way.”
“Basically, you won't respect what they want because it goes against what you want, and you'll make excuses for their behaviour when it goes against what you expect from them,” Cedric said.
“Yup,” Hermione said. “That's basically it.”
“I hardly think students are supposed to –“
“Well, we have,” said George, indicating Fred, “loads of times, to nick food. And we’ve met them, and they’re happy. They think they’ve got the best job in the world –“
“That’s because they’re uneducated and brainwashed!” Hermione began hotly, but her next few words were drowned by the sudden whooshing noise from overhead which announced the arrival of the post owls.
“That's good,” Harry said. “We won't have to listen to you basically continue to insult them for what they want to do.”
Harry looked up at once, and saw Hedwig soaring towards him.
“Yay, she's back,” Harry said. “I won't have to worry for however long it took me to worry about it before.”
Hermione stopped talking abruptly; she and Ron watched Hedwig anxiously, as she fluttered down onto Harry’s shoulder, folded her wings and held out her leg wearily.
“I think she's afraid that you'll do a repeat performance of the last time she brought you a letter,” Luna said.
“Hopefully, I won't do that,” Harry said.
Harry pulled off Sirius’ reply and offered Hedwig his bacon rinds, which she ate gratefully.
“Good for her,” Harry said.
Then, checking that Fred and George were safely immersed in further discussions about the Triwizard Tournament, Harry read out Sirius’ letter in a whisper to Ron and Hermione.
Nice try, Harry.
I’m back in the country and well hidden. I want you to keep me posted on everything that’s going on at Hogwarts. Don’t use Hedwig, keep changing owls, and don’t worry about me, just watch out for yourself. Don’t forget what I said about your scar.
Sirius
“Hedwig's not going to like you not using her,” Luna said.
“Why can't I use Hedwig?” Harry asked.
“You can't use her because she'll attract to much attention, and I have the feeling that he's not going to be in the mood to change places a while lot,” Hermione said.
“Why d’you have to keep changing owls?” Ron asked in a low voice.
“Hedwig’ll attract too much attention,” said Hermione at once. “She stands out. A snowy owl that keeps returning to wherever he’s hiding ... I mean, they’re not native birds, are they?”
“Not quite like what you said, but the basic gist of it,” Luna said.
Harry rolled up the letter and slipped it inside his robes, wondering whether he felt more or less worried than before. He supposed that Sirius managing to get back without being caught was something. He couldn’t deny, either, that the idea that Sirius was much nearer was reassuring; at least he wouldn’t have to wait so long for a response every time he wrote.
“That is something,” Harry said.
“Thanks, Hedwig,” he said, stroking her. She hooted sleepily, dipped her beak briefly into his goblet of orange juice, then took off again, clearly desperate for a good long sleep in the Owlery.
“So, basically, don't send a letter for a few days,” Luna said.
There was a pleasant feeling of anticipation in the air that day. Nobody was very attentive in lessons, being much more interested in the arrival that evening of the people from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang;
“That's not surprising,” Hermione said. “How often does Hogwarts have guests, after all.”
even Potions was more bearable than usual, as it was half an hour shorter. When the bell rang early, Harry, Ron and Hermione hurried up to Gryffindor Tower, deposited their bags and books as they had been instructed, pulled on their cloaks and rushed back downstairs into the Entrance Hall.
The Heads of houses were ordering their students into lines.
“And the prefects are probably helping them,” Cedric said.
“Weasley, straighten your hat,” Professor McGonagall snapped at Ron. “Miss Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair.”
Parvati scowled and removed a large ornamental butterfly from the end of her plait.
“That does sound like a good idea to make her do,” Hermione said.
“Follow me, please,” said Professor McGonagall, “first-years in front ... no pushing ...”
“It doesn't surprise me that it's done by years,” Cedric said.
They filed down the front steps and lined up in front of the castle. It was a cold, clear evening; dusk was falling and a pale, transparent-looking moon was already shining over the Forbidden Forest.
“I hope it isn't too cold,” Harry said.
Harry, standing between Ron and Hermione in the fourth row from the front, saw Dennis Creevey positively shivering with anticipation among the other first-years.
“Nearly six,” said Ron, checking his watch and then staring down the drive which led to the front gates. “How d’you reckon they’re coming? The train?”
“Really doubt it,” Cedric said.
“Do you think that it'll be like it was at the World cup, where almost everyone showed off?” Hermione asked.
“It's possible,” Cedric said.
“I doubt it,” said Hermione.
“How, then? Broomsticks?” Harry suggested, looking up at the starry sky.
“I don’t think so ... not from that far away ...”
“A Portkey?” Ron suggested. “Or they could Apparate – maybe you’re allowed to do it under seventeen wherever they come from?”
“It's seventeen everywhere, for one, and two, they have to be seventeen to come here and try to be chosen as champion anyway,” Luna said.
“Besides, you can't Apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds,” Cedric added.
“You can’t Apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds, how often do I have to tell you?” said Hermione impatiently.
“Too many times,” Luna said
They scanned the darkening grounds excitedly, but nothing was moving; everything was still, silent and quite as usual. Harry was starting to feel cold. He wished they’d hurry up ... maybe the foreign students were preparing a dramatic entrance ... he remembered what Mr. Weasley had said back on the campsite before the Quidditch World Cup – “Always the same, we can’t resist showing off when we get together ...”
“Which means that they're going to try and show themselves off,” Hermione said.
“That, and I wouldn't be surprised if whatever method of transportation they're using, it also has the added effect of being their classrooms and where they'll go sleep at as well,” Cedric said. “Because, while there is room in the castle, it's not common for foreign witches and wizards not there for actual school to have their own space so that there's no chances of someone being accused f doing something to the other school.”
And then Dumbledore called out from the back row, where he stood with the other teachers –
“He must see that one of the schools is almost there,” Cedric said.
“Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!”
“Where?” said many students eagerly, all looking in different directions.
“It would probably be best to look in the direction that he is to find out,” Luna said.
“There!” yelled a sixth-year, pointing over the Forest.
Something large, much larger than a broomstick – or, indeed, a hundred broomsticks – was hurtling across the deep blue sky towards the castle, growing larger all the time.
'”It’s a dragon!” shrieked one of the first-years, losing her head completely.
“That person really shouldn't be acting to ridiculous,” Hermione said, shaking her head.
“Don’t be stupid ... it’s a flying house!” said Dennis Creevey.
“His will most likely be closer,” Cedric said.
Dennis’s guess was closer ... as the gigantic black shape skimmed over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest, and the lights shining from the castle windows hit it, they saw a gigantic, powder-blue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring towards them, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant.
“Flashy,” Hermione said. “I wonder why it's so big.”
The front three rows of students drew backwards as the carriage hurtled ever lower, coming in to land at a tremendous speed – then, with an almighty crash that made Neville jump backwards onto a Slytherin fifth-year’s foot
“I have the feeling that the Slytherin isn't going to be happy about that,” Luna said.
– the horses’ hooves, larger than dinner plates, hit the ground. A second later, the carriage landed too, bouncing upon its vast wheels, while the golden horses tossed their enormous heads and rolled large, fiery red eyes.
Harry just had time to see that the door of the carriage bore a coat of arms (two crossed, golden wands, each emitting three stars) before it opened.
A boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage, bent forwards, fumbled for a moment with something on the carriage floor and unfolded a set of golden steps. He sprang back respectfully. Then Harry saw a shining, high-heeled black shoe emerging from the inside of the carriage – a shoe the size of a child’s sled – followed, almost immediately, by the largest woman he had ever seen in his life.
“Well, that explains why the carriage is so large,” Hermione said. “I wonder if she's just as tall as Hagrid or not.”
The size of the carriage, and of the horses, was immediately explained. A few people gasped.
“Other than Hagrid, it's not actually a sight we usually see,” Hermione said.
Harry had only ever seen one person as large as this woman in his life, and that was Hagrid; he doubted whether there was an inch difference in their heights. Yet somehow – maybe simply because he was used to Hagrid – this woman (now at the foot of the steps, and looking around at the waiting, wide-eyed crowd) seemed even more unnaturally large. As she stepped into the light flooding from the Entrance Hall, she was revealed to have a handsome, olive-skinned face, large, black, liquid-looking eyes and a rather beaky nose. Her hair was drawn back in a shining knob at the base of her neck. She was dressed from head to foot in black satin, and many magnificent opals gleamed at her throat and on her thick fingers.
“I wonder what's with the jewellery,” Cedric said.
Dumbledore started to clap; the students, following his lead, broke into applause too, many of them standing on tiptoe, the better to look at this woman.
Her face relaxed into a gracious smile, and she walked forwards towards Dumbledore, extending a glittering hand. Dumbledore, though tall himself, had barely to bend to kiss it.
“Yet it seems that he still had to bend,” Hermione said. “Even if it's only a little bit.”
“My dear Madame Maxime,” he said. “Welcome to Hogwarts.”
“Dumbly-dorr,”
The four laughed at the mess up of his name.
“I wonder if she's doing it on purpose or not,” Cedric said.
said Madame Maxime, in a deep voice. “I ’ope I find you well?”
“On excellent form, I thank you,” said Dumbledore.
“My pupils,” said Madame Maxime, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her.
“How nice,” Hermione said.
Harry, whose attention had been focused completely upon Madame Maxime, now noticed that around a dozen boys and girls – all, by the look of them, in their late teens – had emerged from the carriage and were now standing behind Madame Maxime. They were shivering, which was unsurprising, given that their robes seemed to be made of fine silk, and none of them were wearing cloaks.
“Weren't they told that they told at least try and wear some warm cloaks?” Hermione asked.
“They might have thought that it wasn't something that they should take seriously. That, or they weren't told to do so because part of their presentation is to be wearing their actually uniforms without anything covering them,” Cedric said.
A few of them had wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads.
“I get it's the former option,” Luna said.
From what Harry could see of their faces (they were standing in Madame Maxime’s enormous shadow), they were staring up at Hogwarts with apprehensive looks on their faces.
“Not all that impressed, apparently,” Harry said.
“ ’As Karkaroff arrived yet?” Madame Maxime asked.
“Nope,” Hermione said, figuring that this Karkaroff was the head of the other school.
“He should be here any moment,” said Dumbledore. “Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?”
“I kind of hope that she chooses the latter, considering that it's said to have been cold already,” Hermione said. “With what they're wearing, I don't think that it's a good idea for them to stay outside.”
“Warm up, I think,” said Madame Maxime. “But ze ’orses –“
“Hagrid will most likely be able to take care of them,” Luna said.
“Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them,” said Dumbledore, “the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation which has arisen with some of his other – er – charges.”
“Skrewts,” Cedric said.
“Skrewts,” Ron muttered to Harry, grinning.
“My steeds require – er – forceful ’andling,” said Madame Maxime, looking as though she doubted whether any Care of Magical Creatures teacher at Hogwarts could be up to the job.
“How rude, insulting and doubting him without even bothering to know who he is,” Hermione said, frowning. “He'll be able to do it.”
“Yes, he will,” Cedric said. “I can understand why she's saying that, though. Those horses probably are not the easiest horses to handle. For anyone other than Hagrid, it wouldn't be easy for them to handle it.”
“Zey are very strong ...”
“I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job,” said Dumbledore, smiling.
“Very well,” said Madame Maxime, bowing slightly, “will you please inform zis ’Agrid zat ze ’orses drink only single-malt whisky?”
“Pretentious,” Hermione said.
“It will be attended to,” said Dumbledore, also bowing.
“Come,” said Madame Maxime imperiously to her students, and the Hogwarts crowd parted to allow her and her students to pass up the stone steps.
“I wonder where they'll be sitting,” Cedric said. “I mean, they're has been nothing said about where the students would be sitting to eat with is while they're here. And I don't see where another table could fit.”
“Maybe they'll chose to sit at one of he house tables,” Luna said.
“How big d’you reckon Durmstrang’s horses are going to be?” Seamus Finnigan said, leaning around Lavender and Parvati to address Harry and Ron.
“They won't come the same way that Beauxbatons did,” Cedric said. “The carriage is a bit too feminine, and I just don't see a school that has the whole Dark Arts deal going for them doing something like that.”
“Well, if they’re any bigger than this lot, even Hagrid won’t be able to handle them,” said Harry. “That’s if he hasn’t been attacked by his Skrewts. Wonder what’s up with them?”
“They just probably got rowdy,” Luna said.
“Maybe they’ve escaped,” said Ron hopefully.
“He should not be thinking that,” Harry said. “I mean, can you imagine what trouble they'd cause if they were loose on the grounds...”
The four shared a shiver at that.
“Oh, don’t say that,” said Hermione, with a shudder. “Imagine that lot loose in the grounds ...”
They stood, shivering slightly now, waiting for the Durmstrang party to arrive.
“I hope that it doesn't take much longer for it to happen,” Cedric said.
Most people were gazing hopefully up at the sky. For a few minutes, the silence was broken only by Madame Maxime’s huge horses snorting and stamping. But then –
“They're coming,” Hermione said, sing-song like.
“Can you hear something?” said Ron suddenly.
Harry listened; a loud and oddly eerie noise was drifting towards them from out of the darkness; a muffled rumbling and sucking sound, as though an immense vacuum cleaner was moving along a river-bed …
“The lake,” Luna said.
“The lake!” yelled Lee Jordan, pointing down at it. “Look at the lake!”
From their position at the top of the lawns overlooking the grounds, they had a clear view of the smooth black surface of the water – except that the surface was suddenly not smooth at all. Some disturbance was taking place deep in the centre; great bubbles were forming on the surface, waves were now washing over the muddy banks – and then, out in the very middle of the lake, a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had just been pulled out of the lake’s floor ...
What seemed to be a long, black pole began to rise slowly out of the heart of the whirlpool ... and then Harry saw the rigging …
“They're coming by ship,” Cedric said.
“It’s a mast!” he said to Ron and Hermione.
Slowly, magnificently, the ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. It had a strangely skeletal look about it, as though it was a resurrected wreck, and the dim, misty lights shimmering at its portholes looked like ghostly eyes.
“Well, I wouldn't be surprised if it actually is a resurrected wreck,” Luna said.
Finally, with a great sloshing noise, the ship emerged entirely, bobbing on the turbulent water, and began to glide towards the bank. A few moments later, they heard the splash of an anchor being thrown down in the shallows, and the thud of a plank being lowered onto the bank.
“They're coming,” Hermione said.
People were disembarking; they could see their silhouettes passing the lights in the ship’s portholes. All of them, Harry noticed, seemed to be built along the lines of Crabbe and Goyle ...
“I have a feeling that's not completely true,” Luna said. “I think it actually has more to do with the uniform over anything.”
but then, as they drew nearer, walking up the lawns into the light streaming from the Entrance Hall, he saw that their bulk was really due to the fact that they were wearing cloaks of some kind of shaggy, matted fur. But the man who was leading them up to the castle was wearing furs of a different sort; sleek and silver, like his hair.
“Pretentious,” Luna said.
“Dumbledore!” he called heartily, as he walked up the slope. “How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?”
“Does he have an accent?” Luna asked.
“It doesn't seem so,” Cedric said. “Of course, if this is the headmaster who's friends with Mr. Malfoy, then he's probably from Britain or near it.”
“Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff,” Dumbledore replied.
Karkaroff had a fruity, unctuous voice; when he stepped into the light pouring from the front doors of the castle, they saw that he was tall and thin like Dumbledore, but his white hair was short, and his goatee (finishing in a small curl) did not entirely hide his rather weak chin.
“Interesting,” Luna said.
When he reached Dumbledore, he shook hands with both of his own.
“Dear old Hogwarts,” he said,
“That makes it sound as though he's been there before,” Harry said.
“Which supports the idea that he was from Britain,” Cedric pointed out.
looking up at the castle and smiling; his teeth were rather yellow,
“Gross,” Hermione said.
and Harry noticed that his smile did not extend to his eyes, which remained cold and shrewd.
“Being friends with Mr. Malfoy means that he's probably not a big fan of Dumbledore, or Hogwarts, since he's probably forbidden Muggleborns from going to the school,” Cedric said.
“That makes sense,” Luna said. “I don't remember there being a rule saying that Muggleborns were not allowed to attend Drumstrang every being mentioned to me by my grandfather, and yet Malfoy junior seems sure that it's true.”
“How good it is to be here, how good ... Viktor, come along, into the warmth ... you don’t mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold ...”
“I wonder why he's doing that,” Luna said.
Karkaroff beckoned forwards one of his students. As the boy passed, Harry caught a glimpse of a prominent, curved nose and thick black eyebrows.
“Wait, that sounds a bit familiar,” Cedric said.
“It does,” Luna said.
He didn’t need the punch on the arm Ron gave him, or the hiss in his ear, to recognise that profile.
“Harry – it’s Krum!”
“Krum?” the four said.
“He's still in school?” Hermione said.
“I know that Ron said he was young, but I didn't think that young,” Harry said. “The chapter's done, by the way.”
Hermione took the book from him when he offered it.