As we entered the entrance hall with the rest of the Hogwarts students heading for the Great Hall, we saw Lee Jordan jumping up and down on the soles of his feet to get a better look at the back of Krum's head. Several sixth-year girls were frantically searching their pockets as they walked.
"Oh, I don't believe it! I haven't like got a single quill on me."
"Do you like think he'd sign my hat in lipstick?"
"Really," Hermione asked loftily as we passed the girls, now squabbling over the lipstick.
"I'm getting his autograph if I can," Ron said.
"Are you gonna ask him to sign in lipstick too?" Alice teased him.
Ron glared at Alice before asking Harry if he had a quill.
"Nope, they're upstairs in my bag," Harry said.
"What about you three?" Ron asked us.
"I think I might have some lipstick," Hermione said teasingly.
"A simple no would've sufficed," Ron grumbled sulkily.
When we sat down, Ron pushed everyone along the table
"Um, Ron, what are you doing?" I asked raising my eyebrow.
"Making room for Viktor and his friends, c'mon, before they decide to sit somewhere else!" Ron said.
"Too late," Hermione said pointing towards the Slytherin table.
The Durmstrang students began to sit at the Slytherin table. We could see Viktor was sitting near Malfoy and his gang. Malfoy turned to Ron and stick out his tongue. He wore a smug look, and I saw Ron clench his fists. I rolled my eyes, but I noticed that Krum looked rather glum, like he did not want to be sitting there.
"Look at that," Ron said bitterly. I looked where Ron was looking to see Malfoy bending forward to speak to Krum.
"Yeah, that's right, smarm up to him, Malfoy," Ron said 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. "That is rather creepy, Ron. I expect they'll sleep on their ship."
"They look a lot happier than the Beauxbatons lot," Harry said, glancing at the Ravenclaw table. The Beauxbatons were looking around the Great Hall with a similar expression Lucius Malfoy did when he looked at Hermione. Three of them were still clutching scarves and shawls around their heads as though they expected them to be stolen. John was trying to make conversation with one guy, but was having no luck.
"It's rather cold," Hermione said, "why didn't they bring cloaks?"
"They probably thought they weren't fashionable," Alice made air quotes around fashionable.
"They look like a bunch of stuck-up Malfoy clones."
"I disagree, they're actually very attractive," Ron said, staring dreamily at one particular girl with a muffler around her head. "They don't make them like that at Hogwarts." I cleared my throat.
"Gee, thanks, Ronald," Hermione deadpanned.
"I think they make them alright here," Harry said quickly.
"I just love being talked about like furniture, don't you Hermione?" Alice replied with an eye roll.
"Yeah, it's great, nothing like going back to the 1800s," Hermione said sarcastically, catching Alice's tone. Harry blushed, but Ron carried on staring at the Beauxbatons girl. I had to admit she was rather pretty, but not enough to justify how long Ron was staring at her.
"It looks like Filch is adding chairs to the staff table," Hermione said, looking at the staff table.
"Why is he adding four chairs when there are only two extra people?" Harry asked. "Who else could be coming?"
"Probably Barty Crouch and Ludo Bagman," I said absently. Mrs O'Leary was wandering around the room and I was keeping an eye on her.
"Eh?" Ron said vaguely. He had gone back to creepily staring at Krum.
The empty chairs at the staff table slowly began to fill up. The last ones to enter the hall were Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime. When their headmistress appeared, the pupils from Beauxbatons leapt to their feet, a few of the Hogwarts students laughed. The Beauxbatons party appeared unembarrassed, however, and did not retake their seats until Madame Maxime had sat down on Dumbledore's left-hand side. Dumbledore remained standing and a silence fell over the Great Hall.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and, most particularly, guests," Dumbledore said, beaming around at the foreign students, who looked uncomfortable at his gaze. "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, the same girl Ron had been staring at earlier.
"No one's making you stay!" Hermione whispered, bristling at her.
"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," Dumbledore said. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!" He sat down, and Karkaroff leaned forward at once and engaged him in conversation. The plates in front of us filled with food as usual. The house-elves in the kitchen seemed to have pulled out all the stops; there was a greater variety of dishes in front of us than we had ever seen, including several that were definitely foreign.
"What's that?" Ron said, pointing at the large dish of some sort of shellfish stew that stood beside a large steak-and-kidney pudding.
"Bouillabaisse," Hermione said.
"Bless you," Ron said.
"It's French," Hermione said. "I had it on holiday summer before last. It's very nice."
"I'll take your word for it," Ron said, helping himself to black pudding.
Hagrid sidled into the Hall through a door behind the staff table twenty minutes after the start of the feast. He slid into his seat at the end and waved at us with a very heavily bandaged hand.
"Skrewts doing all right, Hagrid?" Harry called.
"Thrivin'," Hagrid called back happily.
"Yeah, I'll just bet they are," Ron said quietly. "Looks like they finally found a food they like, doesn't it? Hagrid's fingers."
At that moment, a voice said, "Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?"
It was the girl from Beauxbatons who had laughed during Dumbledore's speech. She had finally removed her muffler. She was extraordinarily pretty, a long sheet of silvery-blonde hair fell almost to her waist, she had large, deep blue eyes, and very white, even teeth. I must admit, I was rather jealous. Ron went purple, he stared up at her, opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out except a faint gurgling noise.
"Yeah, have it," Harry said, pushing the dish toward the girl.
"You have finished with it?"
"Yeah," Ron said breathlessly, "yeah, it was excellent."
The girl picked up the dish and carried it carefully off to the Ravenclaw table. Ron was still goggling at the girl as though he had never seen one before. Harry and Hermione shared a look before starting to laugh, the sound seemed to jog Ron back to his senses.
"She's a veela!" he said hoarsely to us all.
"Of course she isn't!" Hermione said tartly. "I don't see anyone else gaping at her like an idiot!"
"A what?" Alice asked.
"Veela, we saw them at the World Cup, they were the Bulgarian mascots," I said, "very beautiful creatures, they make any susceptible individual fall in love with them, especially the weak willed. Quite a few wizards have Veela heritage, it's rumoured the Malfoys have at least three disctinct Veela marriages.
"Well then, Hermione, you should probably get your eyes checked," Alice said, motioning to the other boys who turned their heads as the blonde girl walked by them, leaving them temporarily speechless, just like Ron.
"I'm telling you, that's not a normal girl!" Ron said, looking sideways so he could keep a clear view of her.
"Demi-Veela, I reckon," I replied. "I wasn't affected."
"What do you mean?" Ron asked warily.
"I have some resistance to Veela entrancement," I replied. "A full Veela has an effect, but a demi-Veela isn't strong enough."
"Why would you-?" Ron started before blushing and cutting himself off.
Harry looked towards the Ravenclaw table to see the blonde girl sitting next to Cho Chang, he stared dreamily.
"When you've both put your eyes back in," Hermione said briskly to the boys, "you'll be able to see who's just arrived."
She was pointing up at the staff table. The two remaining empty seats had just been filled. Ludo Bagman was now sitting on Professor Karkaroff's other side while Barty Crouch was next to Madame Maxime. I looked at Mr. Crouch, who sent me a glare, I'm pretty sure he remembered me.
"What are they doing here?" Harry said in surprise.
"They organized the Triwizard Tournament, didn't they?" Hermione said. "I suppose they wanted to be here to see it start."
When the dessert arrived, we noticed a number of unfamiliar desserts too. The House Elves had gone out of their way to make the guests feel at home. Ron examined an odd sort of pale blancmange closely. He moved it carefully a few inches to his right, so that it would be clearly visible from the Ravenclaw table. The girl who looked like a Veela appeared to have eaten enough, however, and did not come over to get it, much to Ron's dismay.
Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again, a pleasant tension filled the Hall. Fred and George were leaning forward, staring at Dumbledore with great concentration. "The moment has come," Dumbledore said. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket—"
"The what?" Harry muttered, Ron shrugged, too full of food to answer.
"—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 round of polite applause. "And Mr Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."
There was a much louder applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps because of his fame as a Quidditch player in the years past (his physique long since gone to seed and his jersey barely fit over his stomach now), or simply because he looked so much more likable. He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand. Barty Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced, he seemed to have a stern look permanently etched on his face.
"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 myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts."
At the mention of the word champions, the students suddenly started playing more attention. Perhaps Dumbledore had noticed their sudden stillness, because he smiled as he said. "The casket, then, if you please, Mr Filch."
Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall, now approached Dumbledore, struggling to carry a large wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students; some of the first years tried standing on the benches to get a better look at what Filch was holding.
"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr Crouch and Mr Bagman," Dumbledore said 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, one in each term, 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. As you know, three champions compete in the tournament, 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 took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. I half expected it to be accompanied with golden light and choral music, or something equally dramatic. 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," Dumbledore said. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, on All Hallow's Eve, 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," he glared at the twins, who held his gaze with determination, "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 the 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 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."
"An Age Line!" Fred said, his eyes glinting, as we made our way across the Hall to the doors into the entrance hall. "Well, that should be fooled by an Aging Potion, shouldn't it? And once your name's in that goblet, you're laughing, it can't tell whether you're seventeen or not!"
"But I don't think anyone under seventeen will stand a chance," Hermione said, "we just haven't learned enough..."
"Speak for yourself," George said shortly. "You'll try and get in, won't you, Janet, Harry?"
"No thanks," I said, "as thrilling as it sounds to put my life at risk for a stack of galleons, I quite like living and I'm not going to risk that for money. Don't you agree Harry?" I turned to him, but then I caught the look on Harry's face. "You're not actually considering it, are you?"
"Where is he?" Ron said, who wasn't listening to a word of our conversation, but looking through the crowd to see what had become of Krum. "Dumbledore didn't say where the Durmstrang people are sleeping, did he?"
"Ron, you're starting to sound like you're stalking the guy," Alice said. Ron ignored Alice, still searching for any signs of Krum. We soon spotted Karkaroff with his students, or rather ignoring his students and focusing on his star pupil.
"Back to the ship, then," he was saying, "Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?" We saw Krum shake his head as he pulled his furs back on.
"Professor, I would like some wine," said one of the other Durmstrang boys hopefully.
"I wasn't offering it to you, Poliakoff," Karkaroff snapped. "I notice you have dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting boy—" Karkaroff turned and led his students toward the doors, reaching them at exactly the same moment as the four of us. Harry stopped to let them walk through first.
"Thank you," Karkaroff said carelessly, glancing at him. Then Karkaroff froze. He turned his head back to Harry and stared at him as though he could not believe his eyes. Behind their headmaster, the students from Durmstrang came to a halt to, one or two bumping into each other, Karkaroff's eyes moved slowly up Harry's face and fixed upon his scar. The Durmstrang students were staring curiously at Harry too. Harry clearly was uncomfortable with the stares.
"You know, it's rude to stare," I said, stepping between him and Harry, my voice captured the attention of Karkaroff and his students.
"Who are you?" Karkaroff sneered.
"Janet Harker," I said.
"Ah, yes. The daughter of Thom Harker and the absent mother who convinced him to leave his family and go to America with her after the Wizarding Wars, where she left him," Karkaroff said with disdain, one or two of his pupils sneered at me.
"Is there a problem here?" Uncle Alistair asked as he hobbled over. Professor Karkaroff spun around to see Uncle Alistair. Moody was leaning heavily on his walking staff, his magical eye glaring unblinkingly at Karkaroff, we watched as the colour drained from Karkaroff's face.
"You!" he called, staring at Uncle Alistair as though he was unsure he was really seeing him, a look of horror and fear on his face.
"Me," Uncle Alistair said grimly. "And unless you've got anything else to say to my god-daughter and her friends, Karkaroff, you might want to move. You're blocking the doorway."
Without another word, Professor Karkaroff quickly marched out the room, a look of contempt mixed with barely concealed fear on his face, his students following him and talking quietly amongst themselves. Uncle Alistair watched him until he was out of sight, his magical eye fixed upon his back, a look of intense dislike upon his scarred face.
Uncle Alistair then turned to us. "You lot best be heading to your common room," he said before limping away.
"Wonder what all that was all about," Ron wondered as we began walking to the Gryffindor common room.
"It seems Moody and Karkaroff know each other," Harry said rolling his eyes.
"No, I meant Karkaroff being an arse to you and Janet," Ron explained as we passed Sir Cadogan, who called out to me as he always does, I ignored him.
"Dunno, seems like he doesn't like us," Harry said with a shrug.
"That's it?" Hermione asked. "You don't want to know why?" She had a look in her eye that she always got whenever there was a mystery to be solved.
"Hermione," I cautioned, "don't get too excited. Whenever we try to solve a mystery we end up risking our lives. I don't know about you, but I don't want to risk my life this year. That's what the tournament's for."
"Janet, do ya reckon you could get passed the age line?" Ron asked suddenly.
I sighed. "Yes, I probably could, but I'm not going too, for a start I'd probably get lots of detentions, or maybe even a suspension."
"Oh," Ron said quietly, "I was hoping you could…"
"No," I cut him off immediately, "I am not letting you risk your life for some prize, no matter how large."
"Please Janet," Ron said pleadingly. "I'll take full responsibility, just please put my name in the Goblet."
"No," I replied angrily, "Ron, the age line is there for a reason, it's meant to keep underage wizards safe from their own stupidity."
"Come on, I've faced worse than anything they can throw at me," he tried again.
"Ron, you were trapped with me in the Chamber of Secrets and last year you were carried away by Sirius Black, which rendered you useless. You haven't faced anything."
We had now reached the Common Room, where we bid goodnight to each other and went to bed.
"Do you think Ron's going to do something stupid?" Alice asked as we got ready for bed.
"Yes," I said, "but in what context? The answer to that question is always yes."
Alice chuckled. "With the age line, you know to try and get his name into the goblet."
"Oh, yeah, he'll do something very stupid, like try and run through the line," I said as I sat down at the small dresser and started brushing my hair.
"Just for once, for a novelty I want this year to go off without a hitch," Alice said wistfully. "No monsters to fight, no evil wizards to defeat, no resurrected dictators, nothing."
"You know that will never happen," I said smiling into the mirror.
"I know," she sighed sadly, "well, at least not for our foreseeable future." She walked over and put her hands on my shoulders. "But maybe one day." She kissed me on the cheek. "We really should decide when we are going to go public."
"I think Christmas time, it's full of joy and goodwill, no-one can be angry at Christmas time," I said, but I did not believe my own words.
"You know that's not true, I think everyone will accept us, well, the Slytherin might be angry, but most of them hate us so much already that it doesn't matter. I suppose some of the more conservative members of the other houses might be weird about it."
"I wish we didn't have to go public, why can't it be like any other relationship," I said sadly as I set my hairbrush down on the dresser.
"I kind of like the subterfuge, it's all very romantic." Alice giggled as she hugged me and pulled me in to a deep kiss in the middle of our room. When we separated, she was giggling and I was blushing deeply, "but I would like to be able to kiss you like that in public." We went to our own beds. I kept thinking of Alice, so it was a long time before I got any sleep, as I kept thinking about how beautiful she was, how her dark hair shimmered in the sunlight, how her cute blush lit up her whole face, making her more beautiful. It took me a while to get to sleep as Alice occupied my entire mind.