As the rest of the Hogwarts students filed up the stairs behind the Durmstrang students, Ron and Hermione could be heard arguing in hushed tones.
"For heaven's sake, Ron, he's only a Quidditch player."
"Only a Quidditch player?" Ron gasped. "Hermione - he's one of the best Seekers in the world! I had no idea he was still at school!"
"I'm getting his autograph if I can." Ron said. "Harry, do you have a quill?"
"Nope, they're upstairs in my bag." Harry said.
Ron groaned as Bella, Freya and Emily confirmed their quills were also in their bags lying in their dorm.
They walked over to the Gryffindor table and took their seats. Ron hurried in front of them all to make sure he could have the seat facing the doorway, as Krum and his fellow Durmstang students were still gathered around it, seemingly unsure about where to sit. The Beauxbatons students had chosen to sit at the Ravenclaw table. They were looking around the Great Hall with glum expressions on their faces. Three of them were still wrapped tightly in scarves and shawls.
"Of course." Ron said bitterly. "Of course that's where they sit."
Viktor Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students had decided to sit at the Slytherin table. Bella knew that Draco would revel in it, knowing how huge a fan was of the Russian Seeker. Ron watched, open mouthed, as Draco bent forward to speak to Krum.
"Yeah, that's right, smarm up to him Malfoy." Ron said angrily. "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."
"Yeah, that's right, smarm up to him, Malfoy," said Ron 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."
Bella sniggered and Hermione snorted.
"They look a lot happier here than those Beuaxbatons." Harry said.
The Durmstrang students were pulling off their heavy furs and looking up at the starry night sky with expressions of interest; a few of them were examining the golden plates and goblets.
Up at the staff table, Filch was adding chairs. He had donned his mouldy old tailcoat in honour of the special occasion. Instead of the two chairs everyone had expected he would add, Filch added four chairs; two on either side of Dumbledore's chair.
"Surely they only need two chairs?" Bella said. "Why's he putting out four chairs?"
"Who else d'you think is coming?" Freya asked.
Bella shrugged.
When all of the students had finally entered the Hall and settled down at their House tables, the staff made their entrance, filing up tp the top table and taking their last to enter were Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxine. When their headmistress appeared, the Beauxbatons pupils leapt to their feet. A few Hogwarts students laughed but the Beauxbatons pu pils seemed unembarrassed. They did not take their seats again until Madame Maxine sat down on Professor Dumbledore's left-hand side. Dumbledore remained standing, and a silence fell over the Great Hall.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and - most importantly - guests." Dumbledore said, beaming around at all of the new students in the room. "It brings me great pleasure to welcome you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."
One of the Beauxbatons girls, who was still wrapped tightly in a shawl, gave what was umistakably a derisive laugh.
"No one's making you stay!" Hermione seethed.
"The Tournament will offically be opened at the end of the feast." Dumbledore said, "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"
Dumbledore took his seat and Karkaroff leaned forward to engage him in conversation.
As usual, the plates up and down Gryffindor table filled with food. The House-Elves seemed to have gone above and beyond for this feast; there was a large variety of dishes in front of them, including several that were definitely foreign.
"What's that?" Ron asked, pointing to a large dish of what looked like a fish stew.
"Bouillabaisse." Hermione said.
"Bless you." Ron said.
"It's French." Hermione said. "I had on holiday once. It really is very nice."
"I'll take your word for it." Ron replied, reaching for the black pudding.
The Great Hall seemed more full than usual; Bella assumed this was due to the contrast in colours of the uniforms the students were wearing. Hogwarts in their robes of the darkest black, Beauxbatons in their silks of pale blue and undreneath their heavy furs, Durmstrang wore robes of deep bloodred.
Twenty minutes into the feast, they were halted in theor conversation as the girl from Beauxbatons, who had laughed during Dumbledore's speech, appeared at their table. She had removed her shawl from around her head and her long silvery-blonde hair fell almost to her waist. She had large, deep blue eyes, and very white, even teeth.
"Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?"
Ron went purple. He stared up at her, opened his mouth to speak and let out a highpitched squeak.
"Yeah, have it." Harry said, pushing the dish across the table toward her.
"You 'ave finished wiz it?" she asked.
"Yeah." Ron said breathlessly. "Yeah it was excellent."
The girl picked up the bouillabaisse and carried it carefully over to the Ravenclaw table. Ron was still staring after the girl as though he had never seen one before. The rest of them laughed and the sound seemed to bring Ron back to reality.
"She's a Veela!" Ron said gruffly.
"Don't be stupid!" Hermione said quickly. "I don't see anyone else gaping at her like an idiot!"
This was the first time Hermione wasn't entirely correct. As the girl crossed the hall, many boys' heads turned and some of them had become as speechless as Ron.
"There's no way that's a normal girl!" Ron said, leaning sideways so he could get a clear view of her.
"She's not a that, she's a person, Ron." Bella said.
"They don't make them like that at Hogwarts!" Ron said, ignoring her.
"They make them okay at Hogwarts." Harry said, fooling no one that he was staring further down the Ravenclaw table where Cho Chang was sitting.
"When you boys have both put your eyes back." Hermione said sharply. "You'll be able to see who's just arrived."
The two remaining empty seats had now been filled; Ludo Bagman was now sitting on Professor Karkakroff's other side, while Mr Crouch, Percy's boss, was sat next to Madame Maxine.
"What are they doing here?" Harry asked in surprise.
"They organized the Triwizard Tournament, didn't they?" Freya said.
"They probably want to be here to see it start." Emily added.
When the desserts arrived, they noticed that many of them looked unfamiliar too. Ron examined an odd sort of pale blancmange closely, then moved it carefully 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 plates were empty, Dumbledore stood to his feet again. A pleasant sort of tension hung in the air now. They could feel everyone brimming with excitement at every table in the hall. Several seats down from them, Fred and George were leaning forward, staring at Dumbledore with great concentration.
"The moment has come." Dumbledore said, smiling around at everyone. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to stary. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket -"
"The what?" Harry muttered quietly.
They all shrugged in response.
"- 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 were a handful of people who applauded out of politeness - "and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."
Bagman received a much louder round of applause, due to either his success as a Beater, or for the fact he just look so much more likeable. He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand. Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced. Remembering him in his neat suit at the Quidditch World Cup, Bella thought he looked strange in wizard's robes. His toothbrush mustache 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."
When the word 'champions' was mentioned, the hall filled with excited murmurs from everyone. Dumbledore smiled, like a father doting on his children, and 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," 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, 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 the last word, a silence fell over the hall, as of no one had remembered how to breathe. They were all hanging on Dumbledore's every word.
"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore continues 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, 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, 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," Dumbledore said, glancing down the Gryffindor table at Fred and George. "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 scoffed as the crossed the Great Hall to the doors leading to 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 cut her off. "You'll try and get in, won't you, Harry?"
"And why would he want to do that?" Bella answered before Harry could. "He's not an idiot like you two."
"Aw thanks sis." Fred said.
"We love you too." George added.
"Well, it's true! No one in their right mind would try and enter the tournament, never mind when they're underage." Bella said.
"Where is he?" Ron said, not listening to a word of the 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?"
Krum shook his head as he pulled his furs back on.
"Professor, I vood like some vine," one of the other Durmstrang boys said hopefully.
"I wasn't offering it to you, Poliakoff," Karkaroff snapped, his warmly paternal air vanishing in an instant. "I notice you have dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting boy -"
Bella felt sorry for the boy as she saw the crestfallen look on his face. Bella was still looking at him when he lifted his eyes and they locked eyes across the tables. Bella smiled softly at him and he smiled back. Draco, who was standing just behind the Drumstrang boys, looked aghast.
'Really? Him?' he mouthed to Bella, inclining his head towards the boy. Bella only shrugged.
Karkaroff led the Durmstrang students towards the doors, reaching them at the same time as Bella and the others. Harry, being at the front of the crowd, stopped to let him proceed through the doors.
"Thank you." Karkaroff said carelessly.
And then he 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. Everyone around them coudl clearly see Karkaroff's eyes glinting as he stared at Harry's scar.
"Yeah, that's Harry Potter," a growling voice said 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." Moody said 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.
