Chapter 18: Eating With Some People From Different Schools
Disclaimer: I own none of these characters and only part of the storyline
A/N: I literally have nothing to say for myself. I'm sorry.
Ron started fanboying about how some guy named Victor Krum was here. I don't know who he is, so I didn't really listen to him as we were walking towards the Great Hall. I wasn't paying attention to people's conversations, but I could very clearly tell everyone was talking about Victor Krum, and it seemed Hermione was just as interested as I was.
Will was curious so he was asking all sorts of questions, "Who is he? Why is he so famous? What the heck is quidditch?"
I just rolled my eyes at the fact that Will was acting like an excited puppy.
When we sat down at the Gryffindor table, Ron was waving excessively for Krum to sit with us, but he, along with the rest of his school, decided to sit with the Slytherins, (which I do not think was a very good idea.)
"Where do you reckon they're going to sleep? We could offer them a space in our dormitory, Harry... I wouldn't mind giving him my bed, I could kip on a camp bed," said Ron.
Hermione and I laughed.
"The Durmstrang look a lot happier than the Beauxbatons lot," said Harry.
They were taking off their heavy fur coats, while the Beauxbatons were very clearly still shivering. The Durmstrang students were admiring the star covered ceiling, very much like the way Will and I did when we first got here.
Suddenly I heard Dumbledore's voice say, "Good evening, ladies, gentlemen, ghosts and — most particularly — guests. I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable. The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast. I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home."
As usual, the plates in front of us filled with food. So we ate. We all stuffed our mouths, well some of us did, others actually had table manners and ate like normal human beings, but the others decided Frick that, I'm hungry.
I vaguely heard Harry and Hagrid having a conversation, when I saw a girl from the Beauxbatons school come over to the table. "Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?" She had removed her scarf her long hair came down to her waist like a silvery blond waterfall that contrasted with her large blue eyes.
Ron blushed a deep red, and couldn't even find the right words to respond, he just sort of stared at her.
Harry answered for him, "You have it."
"You 'ave finished wiz it?"
"Yeah," said Ron, "yeah it was excellent."
She picked up the plate, and took it to the Ravenclaw table. Harry, Will, and I started laughing when we realized Ron was still staring at her like a lovesick puppy. The sound of us must have knocked him back to reality because he said, "She was a veela!"
A what?
"Of course she isn't," said Hermione. "No one else is gaping at her like an idiot."
That wasn't necessarily true. As the girl was walking back to her table, many guys turned their heads and watched her, most of them seemed to have gone completely speechless, just like Ron.
"I'm telling you, she's not a normal girl!" he said, leaning sideways to keep her in view. "They don't make them like that at hogwarts."
"They make them okay at Hogwarts," Harry said, looking at a different girl at the Ravenclaw table. I guess he likes her.
"When you two put your eyes back in," said Hermione, "you'll be able to see who's just arrived."
I looked to the staff table, where she was pointing, and realized two spots had been filled by some new people.
"What are they doing here?" asked Harry.
"They organized the Triwizard Tournament, didn't they?" said Hermione. "I suppose they want to be here to see it start."
The desserts came and went, easily one of the best meals I'd had so far, probably because whoever made the food was trying to impress the other schools.
When the plates had been cleared Dumbledore stood up. "The moment has come," he 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?" I said to Will, who only shrugged in response.
"— just to clarify the procedure we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those of you who don't know them, Me. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Corporation" — there was some polite applause — "and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."
The applause for him was much louder. Probably because he looked so much more likeable.
"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the Champion's efforts. The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."
Filch approached Dumbledore with a big wooden chest encrusted with jewels that looked extremely old. Murmurs of excitement were heard throughout the hall. One kid, I think his name was Dennis Creevey, stood on his chair to see it properly, but he was too small to even get his head above the other's.
Aha, I am taller than, you small child. I thought.
"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each school. They will be marked on how well they perform on each task 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."
The Goblet of what now? You mean a cup will choose the people for this tournament?
Dumbledore took out his wand, and tapped it three times on the top of the casket. The lid freaked open, and Dumbledore reached in and pulled out a large wooden cup. The only thing strange about it was that it was filled to the brim with dancing blue-white flames.
Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet on top of it. "Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly on a piece of parchment and drop it into the goblet. 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 school. 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, I will draw 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."
Dumbledore then went on to explain that this tournament shouldn't be taken lightly, and that once a champion's name is called they must see through the tournament from beginning to end, because apparently placing your name in the goblet creates a binding, magical contract.
"Now," said Dumbledore, "I think it's time for bed. Good night to you all."
I heard a distant conversation of the Weasley twins talking about how they would make an aging potion to cross the line. I didn't understand how they would pull that off, and even if it worked how would Dumbledore react if one of them was chosen as the champion?
I turned to Will and whispered, "We should ask how we can help in the tournament because, to be honest, I literally have no idea how."
"Yeah," he said, "that's a good idea."
We stayed back until everyone was out of the hall, which took a couple of minutes because there were so many kids. We walked over to the staff table where Dumbledore and McGonagall were the last two still there having a conversation.
"Excuse me, professors." Will started, "We have a couple questions."
"Ah, Mr. di Angelo and Mr. Solace," Dumbledore said, "I finally get to speak with you."
"Er— yes. Sorry we didn't come sooner," I said.
"What can we help you with," McGonagall asked.
"Well," I started, "we aren't exactly sure how we can protect the champions if they have to do the tasks alone."
"Oh, that's simple," Dumbledore answered quickly, "there's going to be some... magical creatures, and some tasks may be a little more extreme than what the students are used to. So, if anything goes wrong, for example, if the mythical creature were to start hurting the spectators, we hope that you can make sure they will not be put in danger."
He made it sound as if we would have to do all the work, even though this tournament was their idea and they were the ones with the magic.
"Of course we will help," Dumbledore continued, "but sometimes, even us wizards aren't skilled enough to contain, let's say, the fire of a dragon that will hit a poor unsuspecting first year."
The twinkle in his eyes told me he knew something we didn't. Maybe he knew we would actually be needed because something would go wrong.
"What if a monster came after us here?" Will asked. "I mean, it's not like there's a protective barrier here like at Camp Half-Blood."
"Well, I trust you will be able to protect yourselves," he said looking down at where the jolt of my sword was just visible under my robes.
I'm sorry, you want us to protect the student you're putting in danger, with the tournament you came up with, even though you are the people that have the magic?
"Also, demigods, such as yourselves, have better reflexes than a normal human," McGonagall said, speaking up for the first time in a while. "So, if a dragon, as Professor Dumbledore said, were to shoot fire at a student, we wouldn't be able to stop it or protect the student."
"Oh, okay, so basically we just have to look out for any possible threats to the other students?" Will said, trying to put everything together.
"Yes," Dumbledore said. "Precisely."
I sighed. "We can do that."
A/N: I'm sorry for not updating in, like, 10 months. But I hope you can forgive me because I wrote more than one chapter for you.
Yeah, I'm a terrible human being.