Being pulled from my lesson, I was taken to a small, rarely used classroom in order to meet with the other champions for what Bagman explained to be the Wand Weighing ceremony. Despite the fact I was on edge with the twins, I still remembered the fact that Bagman had cheated them out of a lot of gold, so I pointedly scowled at him and refused to talk to him, though my coldness seemed to go completely over his obliviously cheerful head. Instead I walked over to Fleur and Krum, nodding to the former and speaking to the latter. He found it easier to converse in his own language, but he seemed to make an effort to try and speak English to me as he asked me how I was. "I notice you 'ave left your table without eating sev'ral times this veek. Is ev'ry thing alright?"
"Oh yes, just a few friendly arguments that's all. I know how to get into the kitchens anyway so I just go down there if I'm hungry and want food later. The house-elves know me well." I said to him as he then glanced at Fleur then lowered his voice, switching to Bulgarian.
"Is it true that your friend, Potter, put his name in the Goblet of Fire?"
"No of course not. I know he didn't."
"Well, Karkaroff is certain that he did. He has been angry about it ever since the feast." Krum said to me as I listened intently. "But if you say that your friend did not, then I believe you." Smiling to him gratefully, I then noticed Fleur huffing a little haughtily. She'd turned her nose upwards and tossed her hair, however I saw her lips were pressed into a thin, anxious line. Having known McGonagall for the past six years, I could tell the difference between a scowl and being upset so I promptly switched to French.
"Mademoiselle Delacour, comment allez-vous?" Immediately her eyes brightened and she started a quick flurry of French at me which I struggled to translate at first since it was so quick. Smiling to her, I requested that she slow down for me as French was one of the newer languages I had learned so she beamed back and talked slower from there. I switched between the two languages, talking to both of them at once though I started to get confused until I was a garbling mess of all kinds of words which made them both laugh before they suggested we continued with English, much to my relief. Languages were exhausting.
Krum didn't speak too much more after that, choosing to lean against a wall in the corner having used up all his sociable behaviour for the day. At some point some other witch had appeared in the room with a photographer, but I didn't pay any attention to them. I was currently telling Fleur all about the unicorns in the Forbidden Forest when Harry arrived, the last of us to appear and Bagman immediately walked on over. "Ah! Here he is! Champion number four! In you come Harry, in you come, nothing to worry about, it's just the Wand Weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment."
"Wand Weighing?" Harry repeated blankly as he looked around the room. When he caught my eye, I flashed him a grin then winked before returning to Fleur as I asked her – in French this time to keep it private – if she was at all part veela, as several of my friends were convinced she was. Chuckling softly, she informed me that her grandmother had been a veela, and having that confirmation did rather make a lot of sense. She was an attractive young person anyway, but that extra allure she had to draw in the focus which seemed to go beyond the norm.
Behind me I heard the witch talking as well now, Rita Skeeter from the Daily Prophet, though she was paying rather close attention to Harry. Out the corner of my eye, I could see her ogling him, probably fantasising about her next big scoop. Why did they have to send her of all people? She was famous for writing absolute rubbish, most of it lies and more than once had ruined a respectable witch or wizard's reputation with her writing. Before I could stop her, she'd grabbed hold of Harry and dragged him into a broom cupboard for a private interview. "Hey!" I protested hotly, now flinging myself around. "She can't do that, Harry needs an adult present! He's underage!"
"Oh…right…well uh…well it can't do any harm, it's only an interview…" Bagman spluttered uncertainly as I placed my hands on my hips. I started to storm on over to that broom cupboard to drag Harry back out of there but Bagman jumped forwards to waylay me. "Now, now my dear, Harry will be perfectly fine without you, honestly there's no need to treat him like such a child…"
"I am not!" Protesting hotly at Bagman's accusation. "I just know that Rita Skeeter will write nothing but a bunch of lies about him if she uses a Quick-Quotes Quill. Harry won't know to refuse it so she can't make stuff up about him…it's in the bylaws, you should know. You've had plenty of interviews yourself. Besides, Dumbledore won't be happy if he finds out…"
"Why wouldn't I be happy, Miss Black?" His gentle voice came from behind Bagman, his silver brows arched neatly at the two of us as Bagman stuttered, attempting to make up an excuse as I pointed at the broom cupboard.
"Harry got dragged into a broom cupboard by a suspicious looking lady to take advantage of him, professor." I answered immediately with an utterly blank face as Bagman spluttered all the more. Technically, I wasn't lying, it just sounded much worse than it was and I got the feeling Dumbledore understood, because he smiled effortlessly and dipped his head.
"Well indeed, that certainly would make me very unhappy." Walking calmly over the door, he then pulled it open where a loud squeak came from inside at his sudden appearance. After a few polite but curt words, Dumbledore retrieved Harry in order to have him join us as we were directed to sit down in the seats facing the velvet covered judges panel. Karkaroff and Madame Maxime were there as well as Bagman and Crouch. The wand expert turned out to be Ollivander who shared a smile with me as Dumbledore introduced him, Skeeter now having taken a seat in the corner of the room. "May I introduce Mr Ollivander? He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."
Stepping forwards from the window, Mr Ollivander first requested Fleur's wand which she handed over to him, allowing Ollivander to inspect it closely though he mostly felt it with his hands, as if his fingers were all he needed to properly see it. "Yes, nine and a half inches…inflexible…rosewood…and containing…dear me."
"An 'air from ze 'ead of a veela." Fleur announced rather proudly, lifting he head. "One of my grandmuzzer's."
"Yes, yes, I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands…however, to each his own, and if this suits you…" He then proceeded to inspect it further for any damage before then murmuring a spell which caused a bunch of flowers to burst from the tip. "Very well, very well, it's in fine working order." Handing Fleur the wand and the flowers, Ollivander then called for me. "Ah! I remember this wand, yes it took quite a while for us to find one to suit you, did it not Miss Black? I believe we went through some one hundred and thirty seven wands before we found your perfect match."
"Was it really that many?" I marvelled as I handed my wand over for inspection.
"Hmm…eleven and a quarter inches…made with ebony…supple…and dragon heartstring core...matured for over three centuries. A powerful combination. I see you have treated it well these past few years, and it seems quite happy with you." Ollivander said which caught my interest, making me arch an eyebrow at him but he merely continued his inspection before using my wand to make several streams of silvery ribbon before pronouncing it to be in excellent condition despite its age. Next came Krum's wand, which Ollivander recognised as a Gregorovitch wand. Made from hornbeam and dragon heartstring, the same core as mine, his was also an inch longer than mine and pronounced to be 'quite rigid', though I had never figured out what that actually meant.
Last was Harry's wand, holly with a phoenix tail feather core and eleven inches long. Once Ollivander was finished inspecting everyone's wands, all of which had passed the test, Dumbledore clapped his hands smilingly. "Thank you all, you may go back to your lessons now – or perhaps, it would be quicker to just go down to dinner, as they are about to end…" But before we could escape, the photographer who until now had been completely forgotten, jumped forwards as Bagman called for photos to be taken.
"All the judges and champions. What do you think, Rita?" Those buggy little eyes immediately fell on Harry who seemed quite happy to sidle behind Krum and me.
"Yes, let's do those first, and then perhaps some individual sorts." I was not at all a fan of that woman. In fact, she and the photographer spent so much time faffing around with us all, trying to get everyone into the frame and eventually having to have Madame Maxime to sit down on a chair. Fleur was pulled to the front by the photographer but the Skeeter kept on trying to put Harry in the centre frame which seemed like his worst nightmare as he kept on slipping back. The third or fourth time Skeeter tried to grab hold of Harry, I slapped her hand away with an irritated growl and pointedly put him between myself and Krum, shooting her a look which sent her scurrying away again.
Then it was the individual photos which thankfully, took a great deal less time and whilst I was waiting, I hid myself at the back with Harry who whispered to me what Skeeter had been asking him in the cupboard and the things her Quick-Quotes Quill had been writing so I pulled out my wand and whispered, pointing it at her back. Whilst she was distracted, I opened up the bag and summoned the notepad, opening it up to flick through it then tore out the pages all about Harry, making him grin as I scrunched them up and set fire to them quickly before anyone could notice.
Then I floated the notepad back into her crocodile handbag, snapped it shut with a muffled click then put my wand away again. "How did you do that?"
"Practice, Harry. A great deal of practice. How do you think the twins and I sneak exploding firecrackers and dungbombs into people's bags?" He grinned at me all the more. After the ceremony and the interviews were over, we were released to go eat dinner. I ate with Harry at the end of the table, Fleur and Krum saying a brief goodbye but seemed to have warmed to him a great deal more than at first. We didn't hang around for too long, as after we'd eaten we headed back upstairs where Harry went straight to bed whilst I sat up for a while to continue with my academic projects.
I was more or less halfway through my werewolf paper, though the other one had hit a rather solid brick wall at the moment. Ron came down from his dormitory room not long after Harry went up and I remarked inwardly that those two had apparently still not made up. Ron didn't even look in my direction as he strode across the common room then left, so I rolled my eyes. He could be so childish sometimes. However, all thoughts about Ron being a real prat just like his twin brothers was soon banished from my mind as Harry came rushing down the stairs to show me a letter he'd received.
It was addressed to Harry, but it was written like it was to the both of us as it was from my dad, asking to make sure we can be alone in the common room at one in the morning of the twenty-second of November in order to talk face to face. "That shouldn't be too difficult. I'm a prefect, I can just kick out anyone who's loitering." I said to him and quickly tapped my charm bracelet with my wand in order to set the date and alarm. "I wonder how he's going to talk to us though? It's not like he can just walk in here…I'm sure he has something up his sleeve." I was saying, more to myself then anyone before I ruffled Harry's hair. "Go get some sleep. No doubt we'll be reading the wonderful things Rita Skeeter has to say about us very soon."
"I'm glad you burned those pages. I don't think I'd ever show my face again if she told the world I cried during our interview."
"She's a nasty piece of work, you should read what she has to say about Dumbledore." Somehow, that didn't seem to inspire confidence in him.
