ONLY A QUIDDITCH PLAYER
Hermione rolled her eyes. She didn't understand what Ron saw in Krum that made him jump like an excited one year old. He was just a Quidditch player. It didn't really matter and after all he was here as a student not as a star. "For heaven's sake, Ron, he's only a Quidditch player," she told Ron shaking her head.
However she had to admit that Ron looked cute when he was excited. It was just that she didn't want to admit it. Ron was just her best friend and that was all that mattered to her for now. "Only a Quidditch player?" Ron said, looking at her as though he couldn't believe his ears. "Hermione - he's one of the best Seekers in the world! I had no idea he was still at school!"
Hermione somehow stopped herself from replying to Ron's comment. She glanced up at the subject of their conversation i.e. Victor Krum. He didn't look as well as Lockhart but well he had the looks that would make most girls to fall for him.
She saw several sixth year girls drooling over him as they recrossed the Entrance hall. "Really?" Hermione said loftily not really believing her ears. These girls were just so easy to impress. "I'm getting his autograph if I can. You haven't got a quill, have you, Harry?" she heard Ron saying as they walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat down.
She let her eyes roam around the Great Hall when she noticed a few Beauxbaton students looking around the Great Hall with glum expressions on their faces some of them still clutching scarves and shawls around their heads. "It's not that cold," said Hermione defensively. "Why didn't they bring cloaks?" However nobody seemed to have heard her.
"Over here! Come and sit over here!" Ron hissed in her ears. "Over here! Hermione, budge up, make a space ". "What are you talking about Ron" she asked confused as Ron muttered something bitterly. It took her a moment to realize that Viktor Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students had settled themselves at the Slytherin table. "Yeah, that's right, smarm up to him, Malfoy," said Ron scathingly. "I bet Krum can see right through him, though . . . bet he gets people fawning over him all the time. . . . Where d'you reckon they're going to sleep? We could offer him a space in our dormitory, Harry. . . I wouldn't mind giving him my bed; I could kip on a camp bed." Hermione snorted. Ron was being impractical.
After everyone was settled, Dumbledore began his speech. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and - most particularly - guests," said Dumbledore, beaming around at the foreign students. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable. "
One of the Beauxbatons girls still clutching a muffler around her head gave what was unmistakably a derisive laugh.
"No one's making you stay!" Hermione whispered, bristling at her.
"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," said Dumbledore. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!" "What's that?" Ron asked her pointing towards the dish kept in front of him. "Bouillabaisse" Hermione said promptly. "Bless you," said Ron. "It's French," Hermione told him "I had it on holiday summer before last. It's very nice. "
"I'll take your word for it," said Ron, helping himself to black pudding. Hermione looked around the hall as she ate.
Hagrid had entered the hall. He was late as usual. His hand was heavily bandaged and he looked exhausted. "He works too hard" she thought to herself. He waved at them and she waved back along with Ron and Harry. "Skrewts doing all right, Hagrid?" Harry asked. "Thriving'," Hagrid called back happily. She smiled to herself. As long as Hagrid was happy, it didn't matter. She was so busy observing Hagrid and the other professors that she didn't notice a Beauxbaton girl making her way to their table.
"Excuse me, do you want ze bouillabaisse?" she asked Ron. She was very beautiful and had long silvery-blonde hairs that fell almost to her waist. She turned to look at Ron to lecture him about how he should share but was shocked to find that he was looking at the girl with an odd expression. She was about to jab him in the stomach when she saw Harry pushing the plate towards her. He didn't seem bothered. Hermione controlled back the tears that were threatening to fall. She was his best friend and she had never seen him look at her in such a way. And he didn't even know this girl but he was starting to like her just because she looked beautiful. "You 'ave finished wiz it?" she asked Harry. "Yeah," Ron said breathlessly. "Yeah, it was excellent."
She resisted her urge to slap Ron. He always said the wrong things at the wrong time. She tried to divert her attention to the arrival of Ludo Bagman and Mr. Crouch.
"She's a veela!" she heard Ron say hoarsely to Harry. "Of course she isn't!" said Hermione tartly. "I don't see anyone else gaping at her like an idiot!" However he wasn't convinced. "I'm telling you, that's not a normal girl!" said Ron, leaning sideways so he could keep a clear view of her. "They don't make them like that at Hogwarts!"
"They make them okay at Hogwarts," she heard Harry say. She smirked. He was an open book. He was easy to read and she knew he had a crush on Cho. "When you've both put your eyes back in," "you'll be able to see who's just arrived." Hermione said briskly pointing towards the staff table. "What are they doing here?" said Harry in surprise. "They organized the Triwizard Tournament, didn't they?" said Hermione. "I suppose they wanted to be here to see it start."
She rolled her eyes as Ron made another attempt to grab the attention of the girl. "He doesn't deserve my attention" she thought as she glanced towards the Slytherin table.
Victor Krum was talking to his fellow mates. One of his friends said something making him laugh and Hermione noticed that he looked much more handsome when he smiled. She found herself staring at him and was startled when she heard Dumbledore's bold voice say something. She blushed as she turned to look at Dumbledore.
"The moment has come," said Dumbledore, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation "there was a smattering of polite applause "and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. "Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining me, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts." "The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch." Dumbledore smiled. Filch approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old. "The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," said Dumbledore as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways. . Their magical prowess - their daring - their powers of deduction - and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."
Hermione nodded. She had read about Triwizard championship. It was extremely dangerous and tough or according to Hermione's point of view, crazy. Students willingly enrolled themselves ready to face death. "As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire." Dumbledore now took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames.
Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall.
"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.
"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," said Dumbledore, "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line. "Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all".
Hermione got up obediently and turned to look at the Slytherin table one last time. "He is just a Quidditch player" she reminded herself blushing furiously.