Author's Note: Well, would you look at this! An update with only a week in-between! Hope you enjoy this chapter. Pardon my French in the most literal sense as I don't speak it and conjured up the translations on Google Translate. Feel free to correct me if any of you reviewers know the language. Thanks.
Chapter Seven – Guests:
In the midst of schoolwork and meeting on Saturdays with Daphne, Astoria had almost forgotten about the Triwizard Tournament, but was forcefully reminded of it when she came down for breakfast one morning with Sara and Melissa and discovered a large crowd gathered in the entrance hall.
"What's everyone looking at?" said Sara, hopping on her tip toes to try to see over the heads of the taller students. There was a great deal of excited chatter among the students; an aura of intrigue seemed to hang in the air. Astoria found herself grinning even though she wasn't sure why.
"Sara!" came a shout through the crowd, and Stephan Edgecombe pushed himself over to the girls, Mark behind him, both grinning.
"It's the Tournament!" said Stephan gleefully. "Delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang are coming on Friday."
Stephan didn't spare Astoria a second glance, even though she was frowning at him. She wondered if he was ignoring her on purpose, and the thought made her want to tell him something nasty, or perhaps step on his toes. Astoria Greengrass was not to be ignored.
"That's so exciting!" Sara squealed.
"I can't wait!" said Melissa.
"And the best part is that classes end a half hour early!" Mark added. "We've Transfiguration last thing Friday!"
"How wonderful!" said Sara. "I wonder what they'll be like. I've never seen wizards from different countries before."
"Probably not much different than us, Sara," said Astoria, almost testily. She found that Stephan's presence had ruined her whole mood.
"Do you think they'll speak English?" said Sara. "I mean – how will we all communicate?"
"Smile and nod," said Mark.
"I'm sure they'll speak some English, Sara," said Stephan.
"It's all so exciting," said Melissa, beaming. "I can't believe they'll be here in only five days."
The five days in question passed slowly. Astoria saw Daphne in the corridor on Thursday afternoon. She asked her if wasn't she excited about the arrival of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students.
Daphne frowned. "Sure. Yes. Of course I'm excited. Listen – Astoria…."
"What?" said Astoria, immediately recognizing the leveled tone in Daphne's voice. "What's happened."
"Nothing – really – it's just," Daphne looked over her shoulder. "Stay as far away as possible from Professor Moody."
Astoria already knew this, and felt an uneasy flutter in her stomach. "Why? Daphne – what's happened?"
"He's been performing the Imperius Curse on the students – he says it'll teach us to fight it off if we're ever confronted by a Dark Wizard."
"He – he's what?" said Astoria. "But – Daphne, that's illegal!"
"I know," Daphne murmured, looking very troubled.
Astoria felt panic flare within her stomach, unaccustomed at seeing Daphne unsure. "Daphne, you have to go to Professor Dumbledore. Moody has to be fired for this!"
"Tori," Daphne snapped, "Dumbledore appointed Moody. You think he doesn't already know about this? He's probably enforcing Moody's decision!"
Astoria frowned, the crushing feeling in her chest returning. "Write Mum," she said.
Daphne's eyes flashed. "There's nothing Mum can do about it."
Astoria's words died on her lips as she was presented by an odd notion. She wondered if Daphne has having problems with their mother, that perhaps Daphne resented her from withholding information about their father.
Noticing her lips had opened, Astoria conjured something to say so that she wouldn't look stupid, "What…what did Moody make you do?"
Daphne blushed. "I don't remember. He made Pansy tap-dance on top of the desk. Malfoy was singing opera."
Unwillingly, as if it had torn a whole through her lips, Astoria laughed, confronted by the image of Malfoy, perfect Malfoy, singing opera in front of a class of stunned Slytherin classmates. Astoria again remembered that it wasn't wise to laugh at a Malfoy, but somehow couldn't help it.
"Tori, it isn't funny." But Daphne's upper lip twitched, as though she was fighting down a smile. "It was terrible. Moody looked as though he was…enjoying the whole thing."
Astoria felt the amusement whither in her stomach, visualizing starkly the Defense Professor's leering mouth, a flash of pleasure in his good eye. She suppressed a shudder.
"Daphne, this – he isn't only doing this to Slytherins is he?"
"No," said Daphne with a slow shake of her head. "I've heard other students talking about it, too."
Astoria nodded, even though she wasn't very mollified.
"Alright," said Daphne. "I've got to get to class. Just…watch out for him, okay?"
"I will," said Astoria, not even bothering to feel annoyed at Daphne's over-protectiveness. She watched her sister leave and then went to rejoin her own friends, remembering suddenly that she had Charms to get to.
Professor McGonagall seemed unusual irritable on Friday afternoon. She seemed nearly as impatient for Beauxbatons and Durmstrang to arrive as the rest of students were. She let them out a half-hour early, just as the notice had dictated, but before they left warned them sternly to, "Behave yourselves tonight, all of you. I will have no mischief in front of the other schools, do you understand? I wish to show Hogwarts in the best light possible and expect none of you to let us down. Hurry now, don't be late to the entrance hall!"
"What's got her wand in knot?" said Melissa as they hurried to Ravenclaw tower with the rest of their classmates.
"I'm sure she's got lots to do," said Sara. "My mother's always a nightmare when we've got company coming over. I'm sure if you're expecting two other magical schools it adds to the stress ten-fold."
"She needn't have yelled at us," said Astoria. "It wasn't as though we were going to anything."
"Well, she has to be sure, you know," said Sara. "After all, one bad apple can spoil the whole bushel."
"Sara, can you believe they're coming tonight?" and Stephan rushed up.
"Speaking of bad apples," said Astoria.
"Astoria!" said Sara, sounding appalled.
"It takes one to know one," said Stephan, face turning red.
"Stephan!" said Sara.
"This is bloody brilliant!" crowed Mark, coming up after Stephan.
"It's certainly bloody something but I won't say what because there are ladies present," said Astoria.
"Not talking about yourself, I hope, Greengrass."
"Stephan!" Sara cried again, sounding close to tears.
Astoria's book bag clattered to the base of the stairs. "I'll wash your mouth up with soap, Edgecombe!" Suddenly she felt the smooth handle of her wand beneath her fingers and she couldn't quite remember reaching for it up her sleeve.
"Astoria!" Sara gasped. She rushed forward, thrusting herself between the tip of Astoria's wand and Stephan's chest. "Stop it! Put it away, right now."
"Let me fight my own battles," Stephan cried, pushing Sara aside. Mark grabbed hold of his forearm.
"Now come on," said an unfamiliar voice, and a prefect rushed forward from a group of older students that had just come around the bend. "Break it up, you two." He put himself between Astoria and Stephan, shoving Stephan out of the way and closing his fist around Astoria's wand. "I know everyone's rather over-excited with the arrival of the delegations but, really, there's no need for wand-play."
Astoria felt her cheeks burn. She hadn't needed his bloody interference. She tucked her wand hastily back up her sleeve, feeling as if she was five years old and caught sneaking cookies up to her bedroom.
"Now," said the prefect, "get on, you lot. McGonagall will have our hides if we turn up late for the arrival."
Astoria turned on her heel and fled up the Ravenclaw staircase. The door to the common room had already been opened by the group of second-years ahead of them and Astoria didn't stop running until she'd reached her dormitory. Tiffany and Aurora were already there, brushing out their hair, and Astoria ignored them. She rummaged through her trunk with vehemence, trying to find a cloak and to erase the flush from her cheeks.
Sara and Melissa arrived a moment later. Melissa was carrying Astoria's book bag, which Astoria had forgotten about.
"What was that, Astoria?" Sara demanded, hands on her hips and frowning.
"Shut up, Sara," said Astoria, in no mood to explain herself.
"Can't you and Stephan at least try to get along when I'm present? Honestly, you've completely ruined the evening!"
Astoria was in no mood to deal with Sara theatrics. "We're going to be late," she huffed, and left the dormitory with her trunk lid still open, figuring Sara and Melissa could find their own way to the entrance hall.
Astoria stormed back down the flight of stairs, feeling her face was still hot. She didn't know what Sara's problem was. It was perfectly in Astoria and Stephan's rights to fight with one another. There was no need to make an issue of it.
Astoria almost ran headlong into a crowd of Gryffindors who were also on their way to the entrance hall. Astoria didn't know what was wrong with herself. She didn't know where her sudden anger toward Stephan had come from. After all, he hadn't even been doing anything. He'd come to speak to Sara, not to pick a fight with Astoria. She – but darn it he thought she was a sneaking, two-faced liar and she couldn't stand to have anyone thinking something about her that wasn't true.
The entrance hall was a huddled, confused mass of mulling students and teachers who were trying to organize things. Professor Flitwick was settling the group of Ravenclaws who had already assembled. Astoria joined her house and allowed herself to be ushered as the Professor told her. Sara and Melissa joined her in line. Sara looked cross and wasn't looking at Astoria.
Astoria felt an abrupt, unquenchable rush of guilt wash over her and felt uncomfortably as if she was supposed to apologize to Sara. But, after all, Astoria didn't know what to say. It wasn't as if she had done anything wrong – no to Sara, anyway. Not to Stephan, either, but that was beside the point.
The Ravenclaws moved as a group and joined the other houses on the way out the front doors. Astoria felt clear, evening air wash over her. She took her place atop one of the bottom steps, where the other younger students were assembling. A line of first-years stood before her.
Sara was standing beside her, arms crossed and looking stony. Astoria frowned. For something to do, she craned her neck to look for her sister among the sea of Slytherin green. She found her and Daphne flashed Astoria a brief smile. Astoria mustered a smile to send back.
Sara sighed.
"Look, Sara –" Astoria started awkwardly.
"No," said Sara. "It's fine, Astoria. I get it if you don't like Stephan. Just – if you really can't coexist peacefully with one another, can you please try to keep your fights to a minimum? Without my presence, if possible."
"It isn't as though I'm the only one making the decisions," Astoria snapped, and could have kicked herself because that wasn't the way she wanted her apology to go.
"I know," said Sara, with perhaps a touch of irritation in her voice. "Just – please, Astoria."
"Fine," Astoria muttered, forcing back every retort she could possibly think of concerning Stephan Edgecombe.
"And I'll talk to Stephan, too," said Sara. "Although, for the life of me I can't imagine why you two don't like each other."
Astoria didn't answer. She stared out into the fading light, wondering when and how Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were going to arrive.
"You know," said Sara contemplatively, "maybe Stephan doesn't really dislike you. He doesn't seem the kind of a person who could hold a grudge. In fact, maybe he actually secretly likes you –"
Astoria had been tuning out Sara, not wishing to encourage anymore bad feelings. She tuned back in abruptly and painfully.
"What did you just say?"
"Maybe he likes you," said Sara brightly. "And you must like him! It's simply misdirected romantic tension."
"I –" Astoria stammered, taken aback. "You – what? Sara are you insane? I do not like Stephan Edgecombe!"
"Shhh!" hissed an older student from behind them.
"He – he's an insufferable, egotistical git!"
"Oh yes," said Sara, nodding wisely. "You definitely like him."
"I do not!" Astoria exclaimed, hardly believing her ears.
"And obviously he likes you. It's all so clear now," said Sara happily.
"Sara – stop it. I do not like him and he does not like me. He – he likes you!"
Sara faltered, "He…what?"
"It's obvious," Astoria snapped. "How he's always mooning over you. He can't keep away from you and he's so over-protective it's sickening. I can't believe you haven't noticed."
"He – Stephan doesn't like me," said Sara with a frown. "We're just friends."
Astoria snorted, crossing her arms and feeling oddly temperamental. "Yes, well take it from me. He's bloody barmy about you."
Sara looked stunned.
"There!" said someone from the back row suddenly. Astoria started, looking around wildly. Several students were pointing to the skies above the Forbidden Forest. Astoria had almost forgotten they were waiting for the arrival of the other schools and trained her eyes toward the sky, wondering what she was looking for.
"Ooh!" Sara squealed, pointing. Astoria used her finger to guide her eyes to a large, dark shape that was speeding through the air.
"It's a dragon!" shrieked a first-year girl standing in front of Melissa.
"Don't be stupid," said someone else. "It's a flying house!"
The air was filled with the sound of similar exclamations. Astoria watched as the large, flying shape morphed into clarity as it swooped overhead. Soon she was able to make out that it was, in fact, an enormous horse-drawn carriage, powder blue and the size of a small mansion. The horses that pulled it were gigantic; their hooves pawed the air as if they were galloping across a field.
"They're beautiful," Sara gasped. Melissa's mouth had fallen open. A hush fell over the students as the wheels of the carriage met the ground, falling with a clatter and rising dust around the spokes of the wheels.
The horses pulled the carriage to a rocky halt. A door fit in the side of the carriage swung open and a boy with powder-blue robes and light hair hopped to the ground. He fumbled with something at the base of the door and a golden flight of stairs sprung forward to light on the grass. The boy stepped out of the way, back straight and hands clasped behind his back.
"What's he – Oh!" said Sara, just as a tall, robed shape emerged from the darkness inside the carriage. A smothered gasp ran collectively through the assembled Hogwarts students.
Astoria stared, feeling her lower jaw drop open. The shape descended the stairs and met the light pooling from Hogwarts' open front door and transformed into the figure of a woman. The woman was enormous and the size of the carriage and the horses were immediately explained. Astoria immediately recalled Hagrid, who was the large groundskeeper and Care of Magical Creatures professor.
The woman was dressed in black, with opals gleaming in the faint light around her neck and running down the buttons of her cloak. She shook her magnificent head gracefully, spilling fragmented light upon her face, which was gently carved in olive-colored stone.
Astoria gasped, for, besides her size, the woman was beautiful. Someone behind Astoria began to clap and applause rippled through the waiting students, Astoria hastily joining in.
Headmaster Dumbledore stepped forward and the woman stepped to meet him with grace ill-fitting her size, smiling graciously to extend her hand.
"My dear Madame Maxime," said Dumbledore, "Welcome to Hogwarts."
"Dumbly-dorr," said the woman in a deep, thickly accented voice. "I 'ope I find you well?" Behind her, other pale-blue uniformed students were climbing out of the carriage and clustering around their headmistress.
"In excellent form, I thank you," said Dumbledore.
"My pupils," Madame Maxime waved a hand to the students behind her. Astoria noticed that most were shivering through their thin robes.
"'As Karkaroff arrived yet?" said Madame Maxime.
"He should be here any moment," Headmaster Dumbledore replied, "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,"' she answered, '"But ze 'orses – "
The enormous Beauxbatons horses were snorting and stomping in the growing darkness. They tossed their heads, shimmering manes whipping through the air. Astoria was captivated by them, admiring their smooth flanks and the way the muscles rippled in their necks and legs.
"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them," Dumbledore cut in, "the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other – er – charges."
"My steeds require – forceful 'andling," said Madame Maxime. "Zey are very strong."
"I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job," said Dumbledore, smiling.
"Very well," Madame Maxime inclined her head. "Will you please inform zis 'Agrid zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whiskey?"
"It will be attended to," said Dumbledore, meeting her bow.
"Come," Madame Maxime said to her pupils. Astoria shuffled to the side with the rest of the Hogwarts students to allow the Beauxbatons students to pass. They climbed quickly up the steps and into the warmth of the castle.
Astoria turned her head to stare back to the grounds. Silence fell around the students. Night had fully fallen. Astoria could only distinguish the Beaxbatons carriage because of the paleness of it color that glistened in the light spilling from the castle. She scanned the skies above the Forbidden Forrest, wondering if the Durmstrang delegation was going to arrive in a similar fashion.
Sara began to shiver and huddled closer to Astoria. Astoria welcomed the added heat.
"What's that?" Melissa hissed.
"What?" Astoria asked – but then she heard it to, a low, gurgling sound like water slipping down a drain. The sound seemed to be attracting the attention of the other students, as well. Heads began to turn, looking for its source.
"The lake!" shouted someone; Astoria recognized the voice of the boy who was often the Quidditch commentator. "Look at the lake!"
Heads whirled. Astoria got a face full of Sara's hair but brushed it hastily away, searching through the darkness to find the glistening surface of the Black Lake. The usual smooth face was choppy and frothing with foam, writhing as something rose from its depths.
Several people gasped. A whirlpool formed out of the bubbling surface, spinning in the very center and grasping toward the bottom of the lake.
"It's a ship!" Astoria yelled to be heard over the rushing noise of crashing water. A mast was beginning to rise from the center of the maelstrom, rising to give sight to a sail and rigging. The masthead rose from the surface, followed by the hull, and the whirlpool collapsed, leaving the ship rocking in the choppy waters, causing ripples to wash across the shore. The water gently smoothed again, leaving the surface as glassy and pristine as it always was, except for the ship that was now floating in the center.
"They certainly have a flare for an entrance!" Sara hissed, as applause broke out across the students again, this time not encouraged.
Astoria was grinning again. An anchor splashed into the lake and a board clattered from the deck of the ship to the shore. Durmstrang students began to dismount and draw closer to the front steps of the castle, drawn tightly in dark-red cloaks that were lined in fur.
The man at their head stepped into the light, revealing himself to be dressed in silver furs that matched his sleek hair.
"Dumbledore!" he called, sounding jolly and boisterous. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"
"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," said Dumbledore. They met with a handshake.
"Dear old Hogwarts," said Karkaroff, talking too loudly, as if he wanted to impress upon everyone how truly glad he was to be back. "How good it is to be here, how good…."
He was grinning, his yellowed teeth bared in what was more like a leer. Astoria had met enough of her mother's political associates to be able to discern a genuine smile from what Professor Karkaroff was doing.
"Viktor, come along, into the warmth…" said Karkaroff. "You don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold…."
The boy Karkaroff had been addressing stepped forward. Astoria felt her eyes go wide for surely it was Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker. Why, Astoria had only just seen him perform at the Quidditch World Cup a few months ago. But, surely he wasn't still in school. He was – a famous Seeker and – Astoria was quite taken aback. Appreciative mutters rippled through the Hogwarts students.
"Who's he?" said Sara, bobbing up and down on her toes and looking exciting, even though she clearly didn't understand why.
"It's Victor Krum!" Astoria said, hearing her voice slip out of her throat without command. "He – he's a Seeker on the Bulgarian National Team. He's brilliant!"
"Really?" Sara hissed back, as they were again jostled to the side to allow the Durmstrang students into the castle. "He doesn't look very athletic."
"He's fantastic," said Astoria, feeling her cheeks flush as Krum passed, looking as surly as he had at the Cup. "You should see him on a broomstick."
The Professors ushered the Hogwarts students back into the castle. Astoria welcomed the rush of warm air. She caught sight of Stephan and Mark through the crowd. They were talking enthusiastically, surely about Krum. In fact, Viktor Krum seemed the primary subject of conversation. A group of older girls were rustling through their pockets, trying to find something for him to autograph.
"Oh look," said Sara as they stepped into the entrance hall, "Beauxbatons is sitting at Ravenclaw. Quick, let's get a seat next to them." Sara pulled Astoria through the crowd. Astoria grabbed hold of Melissa.
"Hello," said Sara brightly to the Beauxbatons girl sitting at the end. She was an upperclassman with dark hair and very pretty. She turned at Sara's voice and a smile flickered across her lips.
"Ello," said the girl.
"I'm Sara Hibburt. This is Astoria Greengrass, and this is Melissa Jordan."
"Hello," said Melissa shyly.
"Well, are not you three sweet!" the girl purred. "Ello, girls!" she turned to her neighbor and told her something quickly in French. The other girl turned to address Astoria, Sara, and Melissa as well.
"Bonjour, vous êtes trois très mignon!" said the other girl and smiled.
"How do you like Hogwarts so far?" said Sara.
"It eez a bit cheely, no?" the first girl answered.
"Oh, it isn't so bad," said Sara. "You'll get used to it. You can use my coat if you'd like."
The girl laughed lightly. "Merci, but it eez too little for me."
"Cecelia, regardez! Il est Viktor Krum!" said the girl's neighbor, pointing enthusiastically toward the back of the hall, where the Durmstrang students had joined the Slytherin table. Astoria caught sight of Daphne, who was gawking at Viktor Krum; Theodore Nott was sitting beside her, trying to regain her attention.
"Il a l'air beaucoup mieux sur le terrain de Quiddage," said Cecelia, frowning in disappointment.
"Je ne m'inquiète pas si il est beau ou pas. Il est riche et un international de Quiddageur; c'est assez pour moi!" said her friend, beaming and waving across the hall, even though Viktor Krum didn't seem to notice her.
Sara hovered uncertainly beside Cecelia, hoping she might be again included in the conversation. Astoria pulled her away. These girls were older and obviously unconcerned with girls Astoria's age. It was as if Astoria had decided to talk to a seventh-year there at Hogwarts.
"Mr. Filch is putting out extra chairs," said Melissa, nodding to the Staff Table. "I wonder who else is coming."
Madame Maxime swept through the doors to the Great Hall and the Beauxbatons students rose to their feet with the sound of bench legs scraping on the stone floor. Madame Maxime walked imperiously passed the length of the Ravenclaw table. Astoria followed her with her eyes and wondered how a woman of her size might move with such poise.
"She's even larger up close!" Sara hissed into Astoria's ear.
A disapproving look flickered across Cecelia's face. "Insolent," she muttered with an ugly look thrown at Sara.
Sara blushed. "I mean – she's lovely though – one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen…." Cecelia seemed to be pointedly ignoring Sara and she trailed off into embarrassed silence.
A hush fell when Madame Maxime and Professor Karkaroff had taken their seats and Headmaster Dumbledore remained standing.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and – most importantly – guests," said Dumbledore jovially. "I have the great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."
A girl sitting with the Beauxbaton students scoffed. Astoria leant over the table to see who it was but couldn't tell.
"The Tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," Dumbledore continued. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"
Food blossomed from the empty platters and serving dishes, just as it always did during feasts. Laughter, talking, and the sound of tinkling cutlery spread throughout the Hall.
Cecelia and her friend were pointing and laughing at a teacher sitting at the Staff Table.
"Pleese," said Cecelia, bypassing Sara to address Astoria, "Who eez that wild-looking man?"
Astoria noticed that she was gesturing to Hagrid, who, with his patched and dirt-covered overcoat and tangle of dark hair and beard, did look very out of place among the other neatly dressed professors.
"Oh," she answered, "that's Hagrid, the groundskeeper."
"Ze one zat took care of Madame's 'orses?"
Astoria nodded.
Cecelia laughed, "E eez very big, no?" She turned back to giggle with her friend.
"Astoria, look," said Sara, pointing toward the Staff Table. "Some people are coming in."
Astoria addressed her attention back to the Staff Table, where the remaining two chairs were being filled by two men, both in Ministry robes.
"Do you know who they are?" said Sara.
"The one of the right is Ludo Bagman," Melissa piped up. "My brother Lee's got his Quidditch collectors card."
"He's a Quidditch player, too?" said Sara.
"Used to be," said Astoria. "He retired from the Wasps when I was only two or three. He was one of their best Beaters."
"Why so many famous Quidditch players?" said Sara, but then asked, "Who's the other man?"
"That's Bartemius Crouch," Astoria answered when Melissa shrugged. "He's in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. He's worked with my mum before."
"What does your mum do at the Ministry, Astoria?" said Sara, scooping a forkful of mashed potatoes into her mouth. "I don't think I've ever asked."
"She's a residing witch at the Wizengamot," Astoria answered. When it was clear that Sara was still confused, Astoria clarified, "She's a politician."
"Ah," said Sara, and nodded.
When the feast had ended, the golden plates were again wiped clear of crumbs, and Professor Dumbledore stood from his seat at the Staff Table.
"The moment has come," he began. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket –"
The casket? Sara mouthed bemusedly.
"– 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, and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports." Applause rang out for both Ministry officials, louder for Bagman than it was for Crouch. Someone at the Gryffindor table whistled at the sound of his name and Bagman waved appreciatively.
"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."
"The Headmasters of the participating schools are judges?" said Sara. "Doesn't that lend the opportunity of bias?"
Astoria looked at Sara strangely, "But that's how they've always done it."
"The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch," Dumbledore finished and the caretaker, gray and withering Mr. Filch, stepped forward carrying a large chest emblazoned with jewels and ruins.
Astoria exchanged a smile with Melissa. Sara bit her lip in excitement. A wave of animated muttering rippled across the students. Astoria felt her chest tighten in anticipation.
"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," Dumbledore said, "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."
Astoria almost forgot to breathe. Her fingers tightened around the lip of the table.
"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore continued calmly, as if he was unaware of the intrigue his words created amongst the watching students, "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 brandished his wand and tapped the lid of the casket three times. The lid creaked open and Dumbledore reached inside. His hand ascended, grasping the base of a roughly carved wooden cup.
"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." He added, '"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."
Whispers of excitement began to filter through the silent. Cecelia turned to her friend and hissed something into her ear that ended in a smile.
"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," Dumbledore added, raising his hand to regain silence, '"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."
"What's an Age Line?" said Sara.
"A line that prohibits students under the age of seventeen to pass it," Astoria answered.
"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered lightly." Dumbledore's voice hung on the wax dripping from the candles overhead. "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."
Benches scraped against the stone floors. Astoria stood.
"This is so exciting!" Sara squealed. "I can't believe it's finally happening!"
"I can't wait for tomorrow!" said Melissa.
"I wonder who's going to enter?" said Astoria, scanning the crowd for older students, whom had collected into small group, whispering about the tournament among their peers.
Cecelia and her friend were making their way out of the Great hall along with the other Beauxbatons students. Durmstrang followed suit.
"Are you going to enter?" Sara asked Cecelia as she was going out.
Cecelia tossed her head. "Of course. I made zat decision before I left my school. It eez what all ze students we brought along intent to do."
"I wish you luck," Sara called after her brightly.
"Nous allons en avoir besoin, oui?" Cecelia's friend muttered.
Cecelia tossed her head and laughed slightly sardonically as they passed through the doors, "Oui, nous allons."
French Translations:
"Hello, you three are very cute." (Cecelia's friend to Astoria, Sara, and Melissa)
"Cecelia, look! It is Viktor Krum!" (Cecelia's friend)
"He looks much better on the Quidditch field." (Cecelia)
"I do not care if he is handsome or not. He is rich and an International Quidditch player; that is enough for me!" (Cecelia's friend)
"We will need it, yes?" (Cecelia's friend)
"Yes, we will." (Cecelia)
Next Chapter: Two weeks. I promise.