Hi everyone, a bit of a short chapter but enough will happen... Enjoy!


Ch. 11 the Goblet of Fire

POV LEXIE JONES:

"I don't believe it!" Ron said, in a stunned voice, as the Hogwarts students filed back up the steps behind the party from Durmstrang. "Krum, Harry! Viktor Krum!"

"For heaven's sake, Ron, he's only a Quidditch player," said Hermione.

"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!"

"Let it go, Ron, it's not her fault she can't appreciate a good Seeker when she sees one," Bella said teasingly.

"And you can, can't you?" I said.

She went red in the face, to which I pulled her closer and whispered, "Blaise spoke to me just now."

Bella pulled her arm from my grip and waited until most other students had left.

"I'm not interested in anything he has to say about me," she snapped.

"I didn't want to talk to you about what he said about you, but what he said to you," I explained.

That was clearly still not good enough for her to shut up. If anything, she only became more angry.

"He made me say it out loud, he made me admit it out loud," Bella raged. "Then, when I had- I don't know what I'd expected, but- he told me to forget it and stop whining, practically."

"Wow."

"Exactly- I mean, can you believe his nerve?"

"No, that wasn't what I meant," I said. "I can't believe he really did that for you. What did you say to him?"

Bella gave no response, she just stared at me, open-mouthed and uncomprehending. I rolled my eyes.

"He's supposed to hate your guts, you know. And instead of teasing you about liking Harry, pouring salt into the open wound, he gives you harsh, albeit well-meant advice," I explained to her. "How did you get him to do that for you?"

"I didn't do anything," Bella responded. "I don't like the fact you're making it sound like he was being kind to me."

"But he was."

"Like he was making an exception for me."

"But he was."

Bella looked at me curiously.

"You're his friend, right?" she asked. "Friends give each other advice. I mean, you are friends, aren't you? You seem to get along."

"We get along, yes," I shrugged. "But if it came to do something for my benefit or the benefit of someone he likes more than me- namely himself- well, you see how much that friendship means."

"Dickhead," murmured Bella. "I still find it hard to understand why none of that seems to bother you."

"If that sort of thing bothers you, you'll find it impossible to survive in the snake pit," I told her, grinning a little.

Her lips curved upward as well, only if just for a millisecond. Bella's smile had turned into a scowl when she saw Krum had seated himself at the Slytherin table.

"I'd hoped he'd sit with us," she moaned. "Do you think you might be able to get me an autograph?"

"I think we both know the answer to that question," I replied, making both of us laugh.

I walked up to the table, and I saw that Krum caught my eye and gestured to the place next to him. I smiled and gladly took the place, inwardly giggling only because my mind's eye could picture Ron's face at the Gryffindor table.

"Thanks for saving me a seat," I said casually, as if I spoke to Krum every day.

I suppose that was what he wanted, I bet he got people fawning over him all the time. True enough, my arrival had broken up the conversation he and Draco had been having.

"No problem," said the Seeker, smiling slightly.

He wasn't particularly handsome, with his big, sharp nose, heavy eyebrows and his short-chopped hair, but something about him was attractive. His broad shoulder and strong arms did not subtract form that image either. Blaise sat only a few seats away from me, and he and I exchanged looks of anticipation.

"So, what do you think of Hogwarts?" I asked Krum sweetly.

"Very different than Durmstrang," he replied with a slight accent. "It is very warm and welcoming. And the girls are pretty."

He added the last bit with a hungry look in his eyes. For a moment I was left speechless. Where 'thank you' might have been arrogant, saying nothing would be most rude.

"You as well," he said, luckily helping me.

I found the grace to smile and thank him. To make the moment even more perfect Draco nearly choked on his food at that moment. The only acknowledgement I gave it was that my lips stayed in a small smile.

"I vanted to ask you about something," said Krum suddenly. "That girl you vere talking to at the entrance gate."

"I talked with a good many girls at the entrance gate," I said, making him laugh. "You'll have to be more specific."

"The girl vith the brown, bushy hair," Krum specified.

"He doesn't mean Granger, does he?"

My eyes found Draco's silver ones, my glare piercing his.

"No one asked you anything," I hissed venomously.

At times like this I had to be careful I did not switch to Parseltongue.

"I suppose he does mean Hermione," I said to Krum, smiling at him again.

He returned the smile.

"Her-mow-ninny," he said, trying to repeat her name.

"Close enough," I smirked, "what about her?"

"She's pretty," he shrugged.

I felt the affection for him bloom in my stomach, spreading a warm feeling through my body. I know Hermione had trouble not regarding herself as the ugly duckling of the five of us. This would warm her heart, and that's why it warmed mine.

"Do you want me to inctroduce you to her?" I asked.

"I vould like that," answered Krum shyly.


POV BELLA MCLAGGEN:

I walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat down.

Viktor Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students had settled themselves at the Slytherin table. Krum had even saved Lexie a spot, who was sitting next to him, looking smug.

I suddenly wondered whether he would have saved me a spot, too, if he'd been seated here. I had to think of the conversation Blaise and I'd had. Did I really have the sexual appeal of a caveman? I shuddered and looked around, trying to distract myself.

The students from Beauxbatons had chosen seats at the Ravenclaw table. They were looking around the Great Hall with glum expressions on their faces, except for one boy, who was looking around with dim interest. Something about his face looked slightly familiar to me. I was surprised to see him talking to Claire, who was mostly not the person to engage in a conversation with a person she'd never met before. Three other students had still wrapped their shawls around their heads.

"It's not that cold," said Hermione defensively. "Why didn't they bring cloaks?"

"Look at her," said Ron bitterly. "Sitting there, looking smug, talking to Krum."

His eyes were directed toward Lexie.

"Oh, let it go, Ron," Hermione bristled. "I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to try and talk to him this year."

"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!" I snapped.

"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!"

The plates in front of them 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 them than I had ever seen, including several that were definitely foreign.

"What's that?" said Ron, pointing at a large dish of some sort of shellfish stew that stood beside a large steak-and-kidney pudding.

"Bouillabaisse," said Hermione.

"Bless you," Ron replied.

"It's French," Hermione explained, "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.

Ron's and Hermione's antics made me smile, as usual, but for some reason I couldn't look Harry in the eye right now as I would usually do.

The Great Hall seemed somehow much more crowded than usual, even though there were barely twenty additional students there; perhaps it was because their differently colored uniforms stood out so clearly against the black of the Hogwarts' robes.

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. A long sheet of silvery-blonde hair fell almost to her waist. She had large, deep blue eyes, and very white, even teeth.

Ron went purple. He stared up at her, opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out except a faint gurgling noise. I giggled.

"Yeah, have it," said Harry, pushing the dish toward the girl.

"You 'ave finished wiz it?"

"Yeah," Ron said breathlessly. "Yeah, it was excellent."

Hermione and I exchanged looks. 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 I started to laugh. The sound seemed to jog Ron back to his senses.

"She's a veela!" he said hoarsely.

"Or perhaps she's just a normal pretty girl?" I said.

"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," said Harry without thinking.

"Thanks, Harry," I laughed, in an attempt to make things less awkward (I still felt like it was written on my forehead that I liked him) but I saw Harry's eyes hadn't left the Ravenclaw table for a second.

I didn't know whether I was biased because of Claire, or biased because of my own jealousy, but I didn't like that Cho Chang girl for one bit.

"When you've both put your eyes back in," said Hermione briskly, "you'll be able to see who's just arrived."


POV CLAIRE GIBBS:
"Who are zey?" the girl with white-blonde hair asked.

"Ludo Bagman, Barty Crouch and Percy Weasley, Crouch's assistant," I explained to her. "Bagman and Crouch helped organize this tournament. I suppose they're here to witness its beginning."

This French girl made me as nervous as any other pretty girl did, and with Cho Chang and the other Beauxbatons students there, I felt like a minority. I shouldn't think like that, I kept reminding myself. Cedric chose you over Cho, so you clearly have something she has not. But then why did I feel so ugly and clumsy in her presence?

When the second course arrived they noticed a number of unfamiliar desserts too. A tall, dark boy went all over to our end of the Ravenclaw table to fetch some pale blancmange, and he caught my attention immediately.

Something about his face looked vaguely familiar to me. But it was only when he sat down in between his group of tall, dark and handsome friends, and starting discussing loudly in French with a slight African accent, it dawned on me.

Léon, Toine, and whatever the other guys were called. I saw the guy I remembered as Léon pointing toward Lexie at the Slytherin table, and his friends cheered approvingly.

I didn't know whether this made me feel better or worse. Better, because it was of course a great compliment to her, and worse because I knew no one would ever do that with me.

Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again. A pleasant sort of tension seemed to fill the Hall now. I felt a slight thrill of excitement, wondering what was coming.

"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."

There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps because of his fame as a Beater, or simply because he looked so much more likable. He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand.

Bartemius Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced. Remembering him in his neat suit at the Quidditch World Cup, I thought he looked strange in wizard's robes. His toothbrush moustache and severe parting looked very odd next to Dumbledore's long white hair and beard.

"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 attentiveness of the listening students seemed to sharpen. Perhaps Dumbledore had noticed their sudden stillness, for 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 carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students.

"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."

At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing.


POV JANICE DIGGORY:

"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."

Right after the speech I waited until the most students had left the Great Hall, and I was the last to join my friends. Lexie, Claire, Hermione and Bella stood in a circle, all eager whispers.

"What's up? What did I miss?" I asked cheerfully.

"I just saw those guys from the World Cup again," Claire said, "and that Léon was goggling at Lexie."

"So you've wrapped Léon and Krum around your finger?" Bella teased.

"It was not me Krum was interested in," said Lexie, smiling mischievously.

My jaw dropped.

"Then who? Anyone we know?"

Lexie said nothing, but now turned her grin specifically to Hermione.

"No- no-" Hermione spluttered, turning red. "Are you sure? What did he say?"

"Well he described you to me, even pointed at you, and I told him your name," Lexie shrugged. "Don't expect him to come and talk to you right away; he struck me as a bit nervous back there."

We all found this hilarious and so we broke out in laughter.

"I don't know what's happened over summer, with all these boys, suddenly," I said when the laughing had died down.

"You wait until the ball they're going to throw," Lexie said with a shark-like grin.

"How would you know they're throwing a ball?" Bella asked, suddenly wide-eyed and pale.

"Why else did you think they would let us by dresses, Bella?" Claire asked, eyebrows raised.

"Don't worry, Bella, I'm sure we'll all be able to get a date," I said bracingly, placing my hand on her shoulder.

"Are you crazy?" said Lexie smugly. "They'll be starting World War Three over us."

The ringing sound of our laughter filled the Great Hall, and all my concerns about Cedric, the full moon, or the possibility of You-Know-Who returning, were momentarily forgotten.


I want to thank all of you for the support and the reviews. This chapter did not have much in it but I hope it was at least a bit funny and entertaining, as it was necessary to set the events for the coming 'book.'

By the way, I don't know whether any of you have been reading my other two fanfics ('The Secret Killer'- based on BBC's Sherlock and 'Run, survive, avenge'- based on HBO's Game of Thrones) but I want you to know this fic has my priority but the chapters for the other two are on their way.