Author's Note

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; all characters belong to the talented J.K Rowling.

Another chapter done. Yay me. Took me all afternoon. Hope you like it. I thought some of it funny. And there's a little part that doesn't make sense yet, but wait and you'll see why I put it up, you'll find out in a couple of chapters.


Chapter 11

Anticipated arrival

As Laurel walked back into the Gryffindor common room later that night after studying with Hermione, she noticed Neville, sitting alone, reading. Deciding to see how he was, Laurel walked over to him.

"Hey Neville, how's it going", Laurel asked as she sat down next to him. Laurel wouldn't say they were good friends, she helped him from time to time in potions and he was always kind enough to help her in Herbology whenever she was struggling.

Looking up, Neville said, "oh hey Laurel, didn't see you there, I was just studying. Professor Moody gave me this really interesting book, Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean. I've been reading it all night. Apparently, Professor Sprout told Professor Moody I'm really good at Herbology. He thought I'd like this."

Laurel looked at him in surprise. He sounded like his normal self, Moody must have really helped Neville. Laurel had to give the Professor some brownie points.

"Water plants. Would you mind if I borrowed it once you're finished. I've been meaning to get some more studying in more Herbology, I'm not the best at it", Laurel said.

"Sure, Moody said I could keep it. But if you wanted, you could come down with me in the mornings, Professor Sprout lets me come in a couple of times a week to help in the morning for extra credit. I could ask her ifs that okay," Neville said excitedly. Laurel smiled. It must be sad, not having many people to share in something you're passionate about.

"Sure. That would be great actually. I'm really behind in the practical side of it", Laurel said.

"If you wanted as well, I could help you out in potions more often in return. There's a student potions room that many people don't know about in the dungeons, and anyone can use it for practise", Laurel said. Neville was horrible in potions, mostly because Professor Snape scared him and he couldn't concentrate in the class, maybe if he practiced the potions first before they did them in class, he wouldn't be so nervous.

"I don't know, I don't think anything will help", Neville said sadly.

"Come on, it's can't hurt to try. Potions aren't as hard as you think. You just follow the instructions. It really helps if you read the textbook beforehand that way you're familiar will what to do. It'll be practise for me to", Laurel said firmly.

"Okay, if you insist", Neville said shyly.

"Good, let's say tomorrow morning before breakfast? I'll meet you here at 6 o'clock", Laurel said.

"Deal, and I'll let you know once I see Professor Sprout if you can come help out", Neville said.

"Great", Laurel said excitedly. Laurel looked around and spotted Harry and Ron at a table, looking like they were studying, "Well I'll see you tomorrow".

Laurel got up and walked over to the boys. They didn't notice her as she stood behind them and listened to what they were saying.

"You know," said Ron, "I think it's back to the old Divination standby."

"What - make it up?"Harry said. Laurel sighed, Ron was a horrible study partner.

"Yeah," said Ron, sweeping the jumble of scrawled notes off the table, dipping his pen into some ink, and starting to write.

"Next Monday," he said as he scribbled, "I am likely to develop a cough, owing to the unlucky conjunction of Mars and Jupiter." He looked up at Harry. "You know her - just put in loads of misery, she'll lap it up."

"Are you boys really just going to make everything up", Laurel said as she crossed her arms. The boys jumped at her voice and turned around.

"What's it to you. I can't make sense of this rubbish", Ron said, while Harry as least had the decently to look down.

"Why are you in divination if you don't like it?" Laurel said, looking at Harry.

"Well, um..." Ron said.

"It's an easy subject", Harry said.

"But what's the point if you get nothing out of it. If you did ancient runes or arithmancy, you couldn't actually get a career out of it, like your brother Bill", Laurel argued. She was starting to sound like Hermione, Laurel thought. Harry looked at her thoughtfully, at least was starting to get it.

"I never thought of it that was", Harry muttered as he ran a hand through his always messy hair.

"But those classes are hard work", Ron said, trying to explain his reasoning.

"So is life Ron", Laurel said.

"If I were you, I'd be talking to Professor McGonagall about transferring to another class or having a free period to study", Laurel said.

"That's actually a good idea", Harry said, looking at his homework. "You'd think she'd let me?"

"I honestly don't know Harry. But its worth trying, even if you get turned down".

"I'll think about it. It would be nice not to get told I'm going to die in every class," Harry said.

"Who will I sit with them if you leave", Ron said.

"Honestly is that all you care about. You should be seeing if you can get out of the class as well Ron, send a letter to Bill and ask him what he thinks" Laurel said in annoyance before flouncing off.

Just as Ron was finishing up his assignment, the portrait hole opened and Hermione climbed into the common room carrying a sheaf of parchment in one hand and a box whose contents rattled as she walked in the other.

"Hello," she said, "I've just finished!"

"So have I!" said Ron triumphantly, throwing down his quill.

Hermione sat down, laid the things she was carrying in an empty armchair, and pulled Ron's predictions toward her.

"Not going to have a very good month, are you?" she said sardonically as Crookshanks curled up in her lap.

"Ah well, at least I'm forewarned," Ron yawned.

"You seem to be drowning twice," said Hermione.

"Oh am I?" said Ron, peering down at his predictions. "I'd better change one of them to getting trampled by a rampaging hippogriff."

"Don't you think it's a bit obvious you've made these up?" said Hermione.

"How dare you!" said Ron, in mock outrage. "We've been working like house-elves here!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"It's just an expression," said Ron hastily.

Harry laid down his quill too, having just finished predicting his own death by decapitation.

"What's in the box?" Harry asked, pointing at it.

"Funny you should ask," said Hermione, with a nasty look at Ron. She took off the lid and showed them the contents. Laurel, who knew what was in there already, sighed.

Inside were about fifty badges, all of different colours, but all bearing the same letters: S. P. E .W.

"Spew?" said Harry, picking up a badge and looking at it. "What's this about?"

"Not spew," said Hermione impatiently. "It's S-P-E-W. Stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."

"Never heard of it," said Ron.

"Well, of course you haven't," said Hermione briskly, "I've only just started it."

"Yeah?" said Ron in mild surprise. "How many members have you got?"

"Well - if you three join - four," said Hermione. Laurel looked away, she didn't know if she could join in reality, she had elf houses in her home, I don't think that's what Hermione wanted from a member. There was no way around it, she'd just have to tell Hermione the truth.

"And you think we want to walk around wearing badges saying 'spew,' do you?" said Ron.

"S-P-E-W!" said Hermione hotly. "I was going to put Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status - but it wouldn't fit. So that's the heading of our manifesto."

She brandished the sheaf of parchment at them.

"I've been researching it thoroughly in the library. Elf enslavement goes back centuries. I can't believe no one's done anything about it before now."

"Hermione - open your ears," said Ron loudly. "They. Like. It. They like being enslaved!"

"Our short-term aims," said Hermione, speaking even more loudly than Ron, and acting as though she hadn't heard a word, "are to secure house-elves fair wages and working conditions. Our long-term aims include changing the law about non-wand use, and trying to get an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, because they're shockingly underrepresented."

"And how do we do all this?" Harry asked.

"We start by recruiting members," said Hermione happily. "I thought two Sickles to join - that buys a badge - and the proceeds can fund our leaflet campaign. You're treasurer, Ron - I've got you a collecting tin upstairs - and Harry, you're secretary, so you might want to write down everything I'm saying now, as a record of our first meeting. And Laurel, you'll be operations manager, and I'll be the general manager.

Before anyone could answer, there was a tapping at the window and Harry shouted, "Hedwig!"

While Harry read the letter from Sirius, Laurel pulled Hermione aside.

"Hermione I have to tell you something", Laurel said uncomfortably.

Hermione looked at her, "What's wrong".

Laurel grimaced, dreading Hermione's reaction. "Well I never mentioned it, but um...you see, my family own house elves and well, I don't know if I can join S.P.E.W.".

Laurel watched as Hermione processed what she said, "What! And you never told me".

"Well, I didn't think you'd actually do this. But my family don't treat the elves badly, not like Dobby was. They love working for us. You could even meet them and see", Laurel said in defence.

"I can't believe it. Your family hired slaves to do your cooking and cleaning. I can't believe it. I thought Hogwarts was bad enough", Hermione said angrily.

"Hermione! It's not like I had a say in it. It's how my family were brought up. It's wizarding culture. You can't get up me for something heaps of families do just because you think it's wrong", Laurel said hotly.

Suddenly, Hermione stopped and sat down, thinking.

"This is great! You'll be the first pure blood family that will hold up our aims and ambitions, you could be the promotional story that can convince other families to do the same", Hermione said excitedly. Laurel looked at her, flabbergasted.

"I don't know, Hermione. You've never really talked to any elf houses, if my mother told them about getting paid then they'd probably start crying".

"No, don't you see. If we can convince your house elves and mother, then it'll work. It has to".

"Um, I guess. But you're the one that's going to have to convince my mother", Laurel said, giving up.

"Thank you. I'll write a letter and have a draft make up. This is all happening so quickly", Hermione said happily before getting started. There was no talking to her now Laurel thought. But maybe it wasn't such a bad idea. Laurel thought about all the elves that were mistreated, Dobby for one, and then Winky. They deserved rights. But this was going to be a huge change for wizarding kind if Hermione went through with it. It would take years. Laurel didn't know if Hermione realised what she was getting herself into. Wizards weren't accustomed to change, not like the muggle world. It was like a different world altogether.

Laurel sighed before picking her transfiguration textbook up and started studying.

~O~~~~~~~O~~~~~~~O~

Later the night, Laurel was dreaming in her bed, about Piper becoming a giant snidget and Laurel riding her through the Quidditch field as Harry and Cedric tried to catch them and win 150 points for their team, when suddenly, she fell off Piper, and landed with a thud.

Laurel woke in a start and lifted her head. With a thud, she hit something hard and cried out. What was going on she thought to herself? She felt around, and realised she was under her bed. She crawled out her back and got up, pulling the curtain away from her bed. How did she get under there? Her sheets weren't tussled at all. Weird. Maybe this was all a dream, Laurel thought as she got back into bed. She could hear the soft breathing of the other girls around her, and no one had woken up from her fall.

Tired, Laurel went back to sleep and didn't think anything of it the next day.

~O~~~~~~~O~~~~~~~O~

The next couple of weeks went by fast; Laurel met up with Neville twice a week to tutor him in potions. He still wasn't making any progress in class, but he was slowly starting to gain confidence when he was working with her. In their first meeting, Neville managed to burn a hole in two caldrons, before Laurel decided to take him back to the basics and teach him how to cut the ingredients correctly, how to stir in different ways, and why you stirred clock wise and counter clock wise. She then went on to demonstrate each potion first, so that he could watch her she see what is she. When she finally let him make a potion for the first time, they were both delighted when it almost came out perfect. The colour, a deep purple, was a little off, for they were looking for a dark shade of lavender, but it was the first potion he'd made by himself.

Neville got permission for Laurel to come down once a week and help out in the green houses. It was dirty work, but she had never shied away from hard work and dove in, before having to run back to the common room for a shower before breakfast.

Laurel noticed that the all the Professors had been increasing in the work they were required to do. Each class seems to be pushing them more and more, and giving then extra homework. Professor McGonagall explained why, when the class gave a particularly loud groan at the amount of Transfiguration homework she had assigned.

"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 -"

"We don't take O.W.L.s till fifth year!" said Dean Thomas indignantly.

"Maybe not, Thomas, but believe me, you need all the preparation you can get! Miss Flamel and Miss Granger remains to be the only students 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!"

Hermione, who had turned rather pink again, seemed to be trying not to look too pleased with herself. While Laurel smiled at Professor McGonagall, this was her favourite class after all. Laurel seemed to have a knack for transfiguration, and didn't struggle at all with every assignment. She still had to work hard, but compared to everyone else, even Hermione, she had a talent for it.

~O~~~~~~~O~~~~~~~O~

One afternoon they were all walking down for dinner. When they arrived in the entrance hall, they found themselves unable to proceed due to the large crowd of students congregated there, all milling around a large sign that had been erected at the foot of the marble staircase. When they finally got to the front, Laurel read the sign.

TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT THE DELEGATIONS FROM BEAUXBATONS AND DURMSTRANG WILL BE ARRIVING AT 6 O'CLOCK ON FRIDAY THE 30TH OF OCTOBER. LESSONS WILL END HALF AN HOUR EARLY. 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.

"How exciting", Laurel said to Harry, Ron, and Hermione when they finally got into the Great Hall.

"Brilliant!" said Harry. "It's Potions last thing on Friday! Snape won't have time to poison us all!"

"You know, if you brewed the potion correctly you wouldn't be so worried", Laurel sung as she rolled her eyes at Hermione.

On the thirtieth of October, Laurel, like everyone, was extremely excited for the other schools to arrive. Nobody was really paying attention at all that day that is, bare Laurel and Hermione.

When the bell rang early, Laurel, Hermione, Harry, and Ron hurried back 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. Laurel quickly checked herself in the mirror before leaving, her thick golden hair was in a high pony tail, and she had to say she looked especially pretty today.

The Heads of Houses were ordering their students into lines.

"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.

"Follow me, please," said Professor McGonagall. "First years in front...no pushing..."

They filed down the 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. 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 that led to the front gates. "How d'you reckon they're coming? The train?"

"I doubt it," said Hermione.

"They must have some sort of transport. There are many ways to travel in the wizarding world", Laurel commented.

"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?"

"You can't Apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds, how often do I have to tell you?" said Hermione impatiently. Laurel giggled.

And then Dumbledore called out from the back row where he stood with the other teachers, "Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

"Where?" said many students eagerly, all looking in different directions. Laurel looked around, trying to see what Dumbledore had spotted.

"There!" yelled a sixth year, pointing over the forest.

There was something in the sky, coming this way. Laurel couldn't make it out.

"It's a dragon!" shrieked one of the first years, losing her head completely.

"Don't be stupid...it's a flying house!" said Dennis Creevey.

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 toward them, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant. Laurel had never seen Abraxan's in person, they were beautiful horses, and she hoped it'd get to see them more closely at some point.

The front three rows of students drew backward as the carriage hurtled ever lower, coming in to land at a tremendous speed - then, with an almighty crash that made Neville jump backward onto a Slytherin fifth year's foot, the horses' hooves 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.

The carriage door opened, and out came a boy in pale blue robes, who jumped down from the carriage, bent forward, fumbled for a moment with something on the carriage floor, and unfolded a set of golden steps.

He sprang back respectfully. And a large woman stepped out gracefully. 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.

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 forward toward Dumbledore, extending a glittering hand. Dumbledore, though tall himself, had barely to bend to kiss it.

"My dear Madame Maxime," he said. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dort," said Madame Maxime in a deep voice. "I 'ope I find you well?"

"In excellent form, I thank you," said Dumbledore.

"My pupils," said Madame Maxime, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her.

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. A few had wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads.

"As Karkaroff arrived yet?" Madame Maxime asked.

"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?"

"Warm up, I think," said Madame Maxime. "But ze 'orses -"

"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 that has arisen with some of his other - er - charges."

"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. "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 whiskey?"

"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.

"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, Hermione and Laurel.

"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?"

"Maybe they've escaped," said Ron hopefully.

"Oh don't say that," said Hermione with a shudder. "Imagine that lot loose on the grounds..."

Laurel, who detested the skrewts, hoped that they'll accidentally been poisoned, they were horrible creatures; they didn't seem to have any purpose.

They stood, shivering slightly now, waiting for the Durmstrang party to arrive. 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 -

"Can you hear something?" said Ron suddenly.

Laure listened, her head tilting to the side; a loud and oddly eerie noise was drifting toward them from out of the darkness: a muffled rumbling and sucking sound, as though an immense vacuum cleaner were moving along a riverbed...

"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 center; 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.

"It's a mast!" Harry said excitedly. Laurel didn't know what that was.

Slowly, magnificently, a ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. It had a strangely skeletal look about it, as though it were a resurrected wreck, and the dim, misty lights shimmering at its portholes looked like ghostly eyes. Finally, with a great sloshing noise, the ship emerged entirely, bobbing on the turbulent water, and began to glide toward 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.

People were disembarking; they could see their silhouettes passing the lights in the ship's portholes. Laurel pointed excitedly to Hermione.

"Dumbledore!" a man called heartily as he walked up the slope. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"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. When he reached Dumbledore, he shook hands with both of his own.

"Dear old Hogwarts," he said, looking up at the castle and smiling;

"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..."

Karkaroff beckoned forward one of his students.

"Harry - it's Krum!" Laurel turned back to the boy, and realised they were right. Laurel didn't care to much though, Quidditch really just wasn't her thing.

As they recrossed the entrance hall with the rest of the Hogwarts students heading for the Great Hall, Laurel 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 got a single quill on me -"

"D'you think he'd sign my hat in lipstick?"

"Really," Hermione said loftily as they passed the girls, now squabbling over the lipstick. And Laurel snorted.

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.

They walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat down. Ron took care to sit on the side facing the doorway, because Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students were still gathered around it, apparently unsure about where they should sit. The students from Beauxbatons had chosen seats at the Ravenclaw table. They were looking around the Great Hall with glum expressions on their faces. Three of them were still clutching scarves and shawls around their heads.

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

"It's probably warmer in France Hermione, there've probably not used to it being this cold", Laurel said. She was a little shocked at how negative Hermione seemed to be around the Beauxbaton girls.

"Over here! Come and sit over here!" Ron hissed. "Over here! Hermione, budge up, make a space -"

"What?"

"Ron! That's rude", Laurel said sternly.

"Too late," said Ron bitterly.

When all the students had entered the Hall and settled down at their House tables, the staff entered, filing up to the top table and taking their seats. Last in line 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 quite unembarrassed, however, and did not resume 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," 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!"

As the tables filled with food, Laurel was surprised to see a wider variety of foods, many of which that looked 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," said Ron. Laurel started laughing.

"It's French," said Hermione, "I had it on holiday summer before last. It's very nice."

"Yes, it's delicious", Laurel added. She'd spend a lot of time over in France. Since her so many great grandfather went to Beauxbatons, Laurel had been on holiday there, and grew up learning French. She hadn't practised it in a while, what with no one to talk to in French unless her mother was around. Thinking of it made Laurel sad, since her grandmother and grandfather would always talk in French when they visited. It had been over two years since their passing, but Laurel still mourned for her family members.

"I'll take your word for it," said Ron, helping himself to black pudding.

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.

Laurel smiled up at the girl in welcome and replied, "Oui, nous avons fini avec la bouillabaisse. Veuillez vous aider". (Yes we have finished with the bouillabaisse. Please, help yourselves).

The girl looked at her in surprise, "Êtes-vous Français". (Are you French)

Laurel shook her head, "Non, mon grand-père était et m'a appris". (No, my grandfather was and taught me).

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked on in surprise, as well as a few students.

"C'était sympa de te rencontrer. Je suis heureux qu'ils soient au moins un étudiant de Poudlard nous, les étudiants français peuvent vous parler. Il serait bon d'avoir quelqu'un qui parle français pour nous montrer. Voulez-vous si je demandais à ma directrice de direction", Fleur said excitedly. (It was nice meeting you. I'm glad theres at least one student from Hogwarts us French students can talk you. It would be nice having someone that speaks French to show us around. Would you mind if I asked my headmistress).

"Je suis Laurel Flamel," Laurel started.

"Flamel?" Fleur asked.

"Oui", Laurel said.

"Désolé, je viens juste d'entendre beaucoup parler de votre grand-père, Nicolas Flamel" Fleur said. (Sorry I've just heard so much about your grandfather, Nicolas Flamel).

"Oui, aussi longtemps qu'il est agréable avec votre directrice, alors ça devrait être bien avec ma tête de Gryffondor, la professeure McGonagall," Laurel finished. (yes, well as long as it's agreeable with your headmistress then it should be fine with my head of).

"Merci, j'espère vous voir bientôt", Fleur said as she took the bouillabaisse and left. (Thank you, I hope to see you soon then).

Ron was still goggling at the girl as though he had never seen one before. Harry started to laugh, along with Hermione. The sound seemed to jog Ron back to his senses.

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

"Of course she isn't!" said Hermione tartly. "I don't see anyone else gaping at her like an idiot!"

Laurel looked around, did seem like Fleur attracted a lot of male attention. If Laurel had to guess, she'd say Fleur had veela blood, but wasn't a full veela.

"What were you saying to that girl anyway?" Harry asked, "I didn't know you could speak French".

"Oh, she wanted to know if I would be willing to show them around Hogwarts. Most of them can't speak English, so Fleur was excited that there was a Hogwarts student around that they could talk to", Laurel explained.

"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 meet Laurel's eyes before he looked away in embarrassment.

Laurel blushed and looked at her food.

When you've both put your eyes back in," said Hermione briskly, "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 Mr. Crouch, Percy's boss, was next to Madame Maxime.

"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."

When the second course arrived they noticed a number of unfamiliar desserts too. Ron examined an odd sort of pale blancmange closely, then 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.

Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again. A pleasant sort of tension seemed to fill the Hall now.

"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 -"

"The what?" Harry muttered.

Ron shrugged.

"- 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 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; Dennis Creevey actually stood on his chair to see it properly, but, being so tiny, his head hardly rose above anyone else's.

"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.

"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."

"An Age Line!" Fred Weasley said, his eyes glinting, as they all made their 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," said Hermione, "we just haven't learned enough..."

"Speak for yourself," said George shortly. "You'll try and get in, won't you, Harry?"

"No, I don't think so. I don't know enough", Harry said slowly. Laurel was impressed. It seemed Harry was started to mature.

"Where is he?" said Ron, who wasn't listening to a word of this 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?"

But this query was answered almost instantly; they were level with the Slytherin table now, and Karkaroff had just bustled up to his students.

"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?"

Laurel, Harry, Ron, and Hermione all got up to leave as well.

Karkaroff turned and led his students toward the doors, reaching them at exactly the same moment as Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Harry stopped to let him walk through first.

"Thank you," said Karkaroff carelessly, glancing at him.

And then Karkaroff froze. He turned his head back to Harry and stared at him as though he couldn't believe his eyes. Behind their headmaster, the students from Durmstrang came to a halt too. Karkaroff's eyes moved slowly up Harry's face and fixed upon his scar. The Durmstrang students were staring curiously at Harry too.

"Yeah, that's Harry Potter," said a growling voice from behind them.

Professor Karkaroff spun around. Mad-Eye Moody was standing there, leaning heavily on his staff, his magical eye glaring unblinkingly at the Durmstrang headmaster.

The color drained from Karkaroff's face. A terrible look of mingled fury and fear came over him.

"You!" he said, staring at Moody as though unsure he was really seeing him.

"Me," said Moody grimly. "And unless you've got anything to say to Potter, Karkaroff, you might want to move. You're blocking the doorway."

It was true; half the students in the Hall were now waiting behind them, looking over one another's shoulders to see what was causing the holdup.

Without another word, Professor Karkaroff swept his students away with him. Moody watched him until he was out of sight, his magical eye fixed upon his back, a look of intense dislike upon his mutilated face.

"Let's go Harry," Hermione said as Laurel tugged on his sleeve.


Authors note

Translating sucks. I don't think I'll do it again if Laurel interacts with the French students. I'll just say something like assume it's in French. I wanted to post this before I leave for work, so I hope there aren't many spelling errors. Thanks for reading!