Disclaimer--If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage with the sincerest form of flattery. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.
Author's Notes-- Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but since the previous chapter is a lot shorter than I realized, I've decided to go ahead and treat my readers to one of my occasional two-for-one specials! Just be sure you appreciate it! *laughs* As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.
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Ginny was falling back into her trance again…in between occasional bursts of mourning for her lost lesson in Astronomy when a strange gurgling noise slowly slipped into her thoughts. She paused, raising her head and looking around rather like Fang on the scent of a particularly plump tea cake. "It sounds like Percy gargling," she thought she heard one of the twins say faintly, but perhaps she just expected it.
"The lake!" Lee yelled, and this time she was sure it really was him. "Look at the lake!"
Ginny hoped they hadn't done anything irreversible to it. She'd always really rather liked the lake. She sighed and stood on tip-toe, trying to crane her neck enough to see water over the nondescript head of the second year. She could hear a rushing of waves reminiscent of their infrequent family trips to the beach. Trips she'd always enjoyed…Bill had shown her how to forage for sea glass…Charlie had taught her to dig clams...Ron had helped her build sandcastles…Ginny reluctantly shook off the reverie and lunged upward again, trying to see. Eventually, she caught sight of something dark, straight, and narrow rising toward them. "It's a mast," Harry said behind her.
Slowly, the ship followed. It was black and dense as solid shadow, but something about it seemed almost fragile. It gleamed with a sickly pale glow, which was probably an unfortunate reflection of the moon. It floated across the water, eventually stopping with a groan and an anchoring splash. There was a sharp thud and footsteps as the passengers lowered a plank and began to walk ashore.
As they came into view, Ginny saw they were wearing fur cloaks that looked as dark and dense as their ship. All except the man leading them, who was wearing a gorgeous silver fur that seemed to match his hair. He was dazzling in the dark. "Dumbledore!" he called heartily. "How are you, my dear fellow?"
Something about his tone didn't match his words. Ginny would have bet his silver fur cloak he didn't hold Dumbledore dear at all, and felt a bit annoyed at his claims to the contrary.
"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore returned, not bothering to return the attempt at affection, which Ginny appreciated.
"Dear old Hogwarts," Karkaroff observed, drawing closer. Ginny realized she was gritting her teeth. The hair on the back of her neck seemed to be standing on end. "How good it is to be here, how good…Viktor, come along, into the warmth…you don't mind, Dumbledore?" Ginny wrenched her jaw apart to stop grinding her teeth. How nice of you to ask. Git. "Viktor has a slight head cold."
The student in question seemed oddly familiar. Ginny stared at him, feeling slightly nuts, and realized, with a feeling of surreality, just where she had seen him before. "The Quidditch World Cup." It was Viktor Karkaroff, the Bulgarian Seeker who'd played such an audacious and slightly nasty trick. And Ginny wasn't the only one who'd recognized him. In fact, the entire school seemed to have gone nuts.
Lee was bounding about like an overexcited gnome, several sixth-year girls were digging through their pockets for anything that remotely resembled a writing instrument, Colin and Denis were conferring in high-pitched tones about what their dad would think, and Ron was shouting at him as he passed the Gryffindor table. Ginny's eyelids twitched with another developing headache.
"They look a lot happier than the Beauxbatons lot," Harry observed off-handedly.
Ginny was a bit startled to notice he was right. The Durmstrang lot were pulling off their heavy furs—the deep red robes underneath still didn't seem overly practical, but were attractive—with looks of wonder as they glanced upward at the stunning stars of the ceiling and down at the shimmering golden place settings, while the Beauxbatons students were huddled at the end of the Ravenclaw table as if they had been left out in the middle of a snowstorm on the moor. On the other hand, they were sitting with Ravenclaw, a group Ginny herself had always found particularly likeable, while Durmstrang had gravitated toward Slytherin. "Interesting…." She muttered under her breath as the group from Beauxbatons leapt to their feet at Madam Maxim's entrance.
The rest of the Great Hall laughed, but they remained at unselfconscious attention until she had been seated, another little detail Ginny found of interest.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts, and guests—most particularly guests," Dumbledore said in his lovely, soothing tenor. He was beaming with warmth and pleasure. "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 bristled several seats away. Ginny nearly cheered her on.
"The tournament," Dumbledore continued, taking no notice of his rude guests or less-than-welcoming students, "will be officially opened at the end of the feast. I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"
Author's Notes-- Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but since the previous chapter is a lot shorter than I realized, I've decided to go ahead and treat my readers to one of my occasional two-for-one specials! Just be sure you appreciate it! *laughs* As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.
*****************************************************************************************************************************
Ginny was falling back into her trance again…in between occasional bursts of mourning for her lost lesson in Astronomy when a strange gurgling noise slowly slipped into her thoughts. She paused, raising her head and looking around rather like Fang on the scent of a particularly plump tea cake. "It sounds like Percy gargling," she thought she heard one of the twins say faintly, but perhaps she just expected it.
"The lake!" Lee yelled, and this time she was sure it really was him. "Look at the lake!"
Ginny hoped they hadn't done anything irreversible to it. She'd always really rather liked the lake. She sighed and stood on tip-toe, trying to crane her neck enough to see water over the nondescript head of the second year. She could hear a rushing of waves reminiscent of their infrequent family trips to the beach. Trips she'd always enjoyed…Bill had shown her how to forage for sea glass…Charlie had taught her to dig clams...Ron had helped her build sandcastles…Ginny reluctantly shook off the reverie and lunged upward again, trying to see. Eventually, she caught sight of something dark, straight, and narrow rising toward them. "It's a mast," Harry said behind her.
Slowly, the ship followed. It was black and dense as solid shadow, but something about it seemed almost fragile. It gleamed with a sickly pale glow, which was probably an unfortunate reflection of the moon. It floated across the water, eventually stopping with a groan and an anchoring splash. There was a sharp thud and footsteps as the passengers lowered a plank and began to walk ashore.
As they came into view, Ginny saw they were wearing fur cloaks that looked as dark and dense as their ship. All except the man leading them, who was wearing a gorgeous silver fur that seemed to match his hair. He was dazzling in the dark. "Dumbledore!" he called heartily. "How are you, my dear fellow?"
Something about his tone didn't match his words. Ginny would have bet his silver fur cloak he didn't hold Dumbledore dear at all, and felt a bit annoyed at his claims to the contrary.
"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore returned, not bothering to return the attempt at affection, which Ginny appreciated.
"Dear old Hogwarts," Karkaroff observed, drawing closer. Ginny realized she was gritting her teeth. The hair on the back of her neck seemed to be standing on end. "How good it is to be here, how good…Viktor, come along, into the warmth…you don't mind, Dumbledore?" Ginny wrenched her jaw apart to stop grinding her teeth. How nice of you to ask. Git. "Viktor has a slight head cold."
The student in question seemed oddly familiar. Ginny stared at him, feeling slightly nuts, and realized, with a feeling of surreality, just where she had seen him before. "The Quidditch World Cup." It was Viktor Karkaroff, the Bulgarian Seeker who'd played such an audacious and slightly nasty trick. And Ginny wasn't the only one who'd recognized him. In fact, the entire school seemed to have gone nuts.
Lee was bounding about like an overexcited gnome, several sixth-year girls were digging through their pockets for anything that remotely resembled a writing instrument, Colin and Denis were conferring in high-pitched tones about what their dad would think, and Ron was shouting at him as he passed the Gryffindor table. Ginny's eyelids twitched with another developing headache.
"They look a lot happier than the Beauxbatons lot," Harry observed off-handedly.
Ginny was a bit startled to notice he was right. The Durmstrang lot were pulling off their heavy furs—the deep red robes underneath still didn't seem overly practical, but were attractive—with looks of wonder as they glanced upward at the stunning stars of the ceiling and down at the shimmering golden place settings, while the Beauxbatons students were huddled at the end of the Ravenclaw table as if they had been left out in the middle of a snowstorm on the moor. On the other hand, they were sitting with Ravenclaw, a group Ginny herself had always found particularly likeable, while Durmstrang had gravitated toward Slytherin. "Interesting…." She muttered under her breath as the group from Beauxbatons leapt to their feet at Madam Maxim's entrance.
The rest of the Great Hall laughed, but they remained at unselfconscious attention until she had been seated, another little detail Ginny found of interest.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts, and guests—most particularly guests," Dumbledore said in his lovely, soothing tenor. He was beaming with warmth and pleasure. "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 bristled several seats away. Ginny nearly cheered her on.
"The tournament," Dumbledore continued, taking no notice of his rude guests or less-than-welcoming students, "will be officially opened at the end of the feast. I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"