Chapter 8
That week seemed to grow harder for Draco by the day. He knew Snape was looking at him oddly now, and Ron and Hermione were as well. He felt utterly miserable, and his godfather's door was barred to him, so he was alone. At least when he and Potter had been talking he hadn't been alone.
But Potter was disgusted with him, and it turned out he hadn't even liked him after all of the things that had happened to them. Draco had thought they got along well, he wouldn't have called it friendship himself, but it had been an immense source of relief to him, to know that he wasn't in this alone, or at least he wasn't in this with a hostile enemy.
But it turned out he was in this mess alone, and Potter had only been nice to him for convenience for all this time apparently.
On top of all this, teachers were piling on homework like it was going out of fashion. Classes were harder; even Binns had them writing weekly essays. Surprisingly, or perhaps not, his and Ron's Divination homework was a roaring success, and Trelawney read it out to the class aloud. She did seem surprised at how calm they were, despite all the oncoming disasters threatening, and perhaps that's when she grew suspicious, because she asked them to do the same work for next months homework too.
Even Hagrid had somehow managed to make his classes harder. When he suggested that as a side project the class members could babysit the Blast-Ended Skrewts on alternate nights and write reports on their findings, Draco had had to catch himself before he made a comment that wouldn't sound right coming from Potter.
Potter did it for him.
Draco didn't hear what Harry said, but Hagrid turned on him, an ugly, brutish look on his face.
"Yeh'll do wha' yer told, Malfoy," Hagrid growled "an' I'll be havin' none o' yer lip, understan'? Or I'll be takin' a leaf outta Professor Moody's book…I hear yeh made a good ferret, Malfoy."
Potter must have been having some bad day to mouth off about his favourite mutant, so Draco couldn't help laughing along with the Gryffindors, despite the hurt look on Harry's face, which only deepened when they locked eyes.
Draco was distracted from his melancholy thoughts when Ron and Hermione stopped short in front of him on the way to their next class, causing him to step on the back of their shoes.
"Ouch! Harry, watch where you're going, that hurt!"
"Sorry." he muttered, looking around.
The entrance hall was full off student milling around a large sign on the wall. As they gradually shuffled closer, Draco could read the words.
TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT
The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at 6 o'clock on Friday 30th of October. Lessons will end half an hour early.
Draco could tell when Weasley read that last part because of the excited gurgle he emitted. He rolled his eyes. What a troll.
Students will return their bags and books to their dormitories and assemble in front of the castle to greet our guests before the Welcoming Feast.
"Only a week away!" A fat Hufflepuff that Draco had never spoken to exclaimed excitedly. "Does Cedric know? I'll have to tell him!" He rushed off.
"Cedric?" said Ron
"Diggory." Draco said immediately, then felt himself flush. Hermione caught it, and looked at him oddly.
"Is that idiot going to try for Hogwarts Champion?" Ron snorted
"He's not an idiot!" Draco said hotly
"He's a really good student, he always gets top marks!" Hermione added "And he's a prefect!"
"Merlin!" Ron said, stepping back "I was just saying - and what's up with you two? Hermione, you probably only like him because he's handsome," he said scathingly "but what's your excuse?" he added to Draco.
"I - uh - he's a good Seeker." Draco said blankly. He really should watch his mouth.
It didn't matter however, because Hermione was talking over him. "Excuse me, I don't like people just because they're handsome!"
Ron made a loud, false cough which sounded oddly like 'Lockhart', and Draco stared at Hermione incredulously. Maybe they had more in common than he'd first thought…
For the next week, Harry couldn't go thirty seconds without hearing a conversation that involved the tournament in some way or another. Pansy was constantly harping on about what she'd heard about 'Beauxbaton boys', and he figured she was trying to make him jealous. He was certain that that had something to do with Blaise, and sure enough the next time she started on about it, he looked up to Zabini smirking at him. He paid her back by revealing he was meeting up with a French girl over Christmas, remembering the first letter he'd ever received from Narcissa.
Of course, that stirred up anxieties in Harry's stomach which he'd managed to forget about until now. How on earth was he going to avoid going home for Christmas? Malfoy had never done so, so he'd have to think of a way that didn't make him look out of character…he really needed to find a way to make up with Draco.
There was still plenty of time though - two whole months before December even begun, so Harry shoved the worry into the back of his mind.
It wasn't just the students who were excited about the new arrivals. The teachers seemed very concerned over what the foreigners might think of the school, and Harry noticed that Filch was looking rather worn out and bedraggled whereas the castle was positively gleaming. Even the dungeons near Slytherin were now brightly lit with new torches and all the suits of armour weren't missing pieces or dented anymore and they were all looking quite shiny - and suitably chastened after McGonagall had had a word with them about sword fighting with each other.
On the day the other schools were due to arrive, Harry was confused when he looked over at Gryffindor to see that Neville was having his ears re-attached by McGonagall. The next thing he noticed as he sat down, was that the hall was adorned with huge silk banners representing each house. They were hanging on the normally bare stone walls, making the hall look rather festive, and there was a large Hogwarts crest hanging behind the high table.
Draco glared hard when he noticed Harry staring at the Gryffindor table. It took a few moments, but when Potter's eyes finally settled on him, they looked taken back, then he looked away. Draco felt a smug sense of satisfaction.
"I hope you two aren't still thinking about trying to enter?" Hermione was saying, and Draco turned to see she was talking to Fred and George Weasley. He rolled his eyes. He'd forgotten they were cooking up some hair-brained plan to fool Dumbledore, and whoever this impartial judge was, that they were of age.
"I asked McGonagall how the champions are chosen," one of them said bitterly "but she wasn't telling. She just told me to shut up and get on with transfiguring my racoon."
"Hey Harry," Ron said, nudging him "What do you think the tasks will be like? I reckon we might be able to do them, we've done dangerous stuff before!"
Honestly, the arrogance is almost endearing. I can see why Potter likes him, he's like a cocky version of Crabbe and Goyle.
"Not in front of a panel of judges, you haven't." One of the twins told Ron
"Who are the judges?" Draco asked
"Well, the Heads of the participating schools are always on the panel," Hermione said, and everyone looked around at her, rather surprised, "because all three of them were injured during the Tournament of 1792, when a cockatrice the champions were supposed to be catching went on the rampage."
She noticed them all looking at her, and said, with her usual air of impatience that nobody else had read all the books she had, "It's all in Hogwarts: A History. Though, of course, that book's not entirely reliable. "A Revised History of Hogwarts" would be a more accurate title. Or "A Highly Biased and Selective History of Hogwarts, Which Glosses Over the Nastier Aspects of the School."
"What are you -?" Ron began
"House elves." Draco sighed, dropping his face into his hands. "What else?"
"What else?" Hermione said shrilly "How can you say that, as if the primary history text of our school, doesn't mention, not in over a thousand pages, that we are all colluding in oppression of a hundred slaves!"
Ron busied himself with his scrambled eggs, and Draco imitated him. Hermione had treated the entire house to a speech last night, after no one else had agreed to sign up to the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. Draco still had the collection tin she'd given him, as his due as treasurer of the charity, in the dorm somewhere. It still had the four sickles that he and Ron had paid for their own badges to get her off their backs about it, but she was still nagging them to wear the blasted things, which Draco thought was just unreasonable. The things read SPEW for Merlin's sake!
The rest of the day was rather pleasant. No one paid much attention in classes, and there was a feeling of excitement in the air. Draco was mildly disappointed that Potions was cut short by half an hour though, and they didn't get to brew anything that day.
"Thank Merin that's over!" Ron said loudly as they left the cauldron, and Draco agreed good-naturedly, just because he was supposed to be Potter. Sometimes he wondered why the Gryffindors were so shocked that Snape treated them badly, he was the only one in Gryffindor who treated potion making seriously. The others didn't seem to grasp the fact that you couldn't get distracted and do things like talk to a friend for five minutes halfway through adding an ingredient, something Weasley, Finnigan, and Thomas seemed to think was a mandatory part of the exercise. Oddly, Longbottom came the closest to proper behaviour, even if only due to the likelihood of explosions if he didn't.
It was only the intervention of Ron as Draco's Potions partner that made sure their work was never perfect enough as to rouse Severus' suspicion.
The only thing Draco hated about the class was how Severus looked at him. He glared, scowled, frowned, and generally looked anything but approachable. Draco never volunteered information in classes, but Snape picked on him in almost every class, and didn't seem soothed by the fact that Draco knew all the answers.
"Since when are you so good at potions?" Ron had been saying a lot recently, but Draco would just shrug and pin the blame on 'study meetings with Malfoy', which of course would have been a lie even if he and Harry had spoken in the last few weeks.
On the other hand, it appeared that Harry was doing a lot better at potions now that Snape was picking on someone else for a change. He was still clumsier and less precise than Draco, and Snape was picking up on it - Draco could see him casting concerned looks at Harry during class - but it wasn't as bad as it might have been. Draco wondered if Harry had gone to that meeting with Severus. Probably not, he concluded, as Snape's glances had been growing more and more concerned over the weeks.
When the bell rang, Draco rushed up to Gryffindor tower with Ron and Hermione to dump their bags in the common room, before returning hurriedly to the entrance hall, to find that the heads of houses were arranging the pupils into lines on the front lawn.
McGonagall chivvied him into line with the other fourth year Gryffindors, with the third years in front of them, then the second years, and the little first years at the front. There was a low buzz of excited voices in the balmy evening air, and Draco couldn't help feeling a little excited too.
"Miss Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair." McGonagall snapped as swept past, her eyes roving over her students for loosened ties, unfastened top buttons, and wonky hats. Draco, so used to being Harry by now, found it ridiculously easy to smother the smirk he would usually have shot at the Patil girl.
He turned around to look for Potter. At first he couldn't see him in the crowd of Slytherins, who were only just being led onto the grass by Snape. He couldn't help notice already how much more orderly they were, although he didn't bother hiding his smirk this time when he saw Severus drop back and snap something at Pansy, who looked sulky and tugged her skirt down so that it covered her knees.
Beside her was Nott, and beside Nott was Harry. Harry too looked sullen, and a little morose. His arms were folded, and when the Slytherins turned to face the front, he slouched, his ash blond hair lifting in the wind. It must have been tickling his face, because Harry tried to blow it out the way with his breath, before impatiently swiping it back with his arm.
Draco felt a little worried; Harry wasn't doing well at pretending to be him. Pansy was leaning over now, to talk to Harry, and he only looked at her for a moment before shrugging and looking away, his grey eyes narrowed against a sudden sharp gust of wind. Snape called something over to him, and Harry reached up and rearranged his green and silver tie. At that moment, he happened to look up and catch Draco's eye.
When he saw Draco was looking at him, Harry's heart rose. Here was his chance! Before Malfoy could look away, Harry shot him a pleading glance, and mouthed 'sorry', trying to look as apologetic as he could.
Draco stared back at him, his black hair still unruly, but rather neater than Harry had ever managed to make it. Something flickered in his green eyes, and he was distracted suddenly as the wind blew Draco's fringe back and the lightening scar was revealed.
When Harry tore his eyes away from the jagged lightening bolt, Draco was already turning back to face the front.
"There!" someone directly behind Draco yelled, and he turned indignantly to glare at the sixth year, his right hand clamped over his ear. Predictably, the Gryffindor did not apologise, but shot him a disparaging glance, before focusing her eyes back on the horizon. Draco turned back to see too.
There was an object in the sky, only its silhouette visible in the darkening sky. It was very far up, but it was growing larger and larger every second.
"It's a dragon!" shrieked a first year girl, grabbing her friend for support.
Draco shot her an incredulous look. What dragons are square?
"Don't be stupid -" another kid snapped at her "it's a flying house!"
"Oh for the love of -" Draco started
"Well do you know what it is?" Hermione demanded suddenly, and Draco decided not to deign to answer her.
The thing was now revealed to be being pulled by large animals of some kind - Draco could see their wings, their legs and their long necks moving and guessed them to be some breed of Abraxan horse, and as they and the object they pulled grew nearer and closer to the ground it seemed to speed faster and faster, until Draco could see wheels skimming the tips of the trees in the Forbidden Forest.
"It's a horse-drawn carriage." Draco realised aloud, and just as he spoke, it was hit by the light from the castle, and he could see that the gigantic carriage was powder blue in colour, and there were twelve Abraxan horses, all monstrously large.
The carriage was hurtling lower and lower, angled in their direction, and the first three rows of students began tripping over themselves to move out of the way. Draco roughly pushed the older Creevy brother off the hem of his robes and stepped back and bracing himself for the almighty crash as the horses' hooves touched down.
The carriage rolled forward at a more relaxed pace for a distance as the horses came to a halt, and Draco saw the Beauxbatons emblem on the carriage door just before it opened, and a skinny, nervous looking blonde boy hopped out and began fiddling with something under the carriage floor and unfolded a set of golden steps.
The woman that emerged from the carriage next caused some commotion among the Hogwarts students.
"Hagrid has a sister?" Draco said in confusion to Ron, who shrugged without halting his gaping.
The woman, now finished descending the steps, was looking around imperiously at the wide-eyed crowd in a manner that reminded Draco somewhat of his mother. It struck him that that alone said a lot about the type of woman this person was, because she very obviously, like Hagrid, had giant blood in her family, and people generally didn't give the kind of respect that this woman was commanding to half-breeds.
She had a rather masculine face, yet it had a beauty and elegance about it all the same, although her nose reminded Draco somewhat of a beak. Her skin was tanned and put him in mind of warm, sunny places, and her hair was pulled back tightly into a gleaming bun, which matched her long, black satin robe, and she wore opals on her neck and fingers.
Someone started to clap, and turning, Draco saw it was Dumbledore. Several of the older students began to follow his lead, and he joined in along with the rest of the school as the monstrous womann's face relaxed into a gracious smile.
She's used to this, Draco thought, she really must have built up a hell of a reputation in France if this is her usual reception.
As Dumbledore and the woman approached each other, she held out a glittering hand, and Dumbledore barely had to bend his neck to kiss it, even though he himself was tall.
"My dear Madame Maxime, "he said. "Welcome to Hogwarts."
"Dumbly-dorr," Madame Maxime replied in a deep voice "I 'ope I find you well?"
"On excellent form, I thank you." said Dumbledore
"My pupils," said Madame Maxine, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her.
Draco's eyes shot to the group of young people who had gathered, unnoticed, in two lines behind her. They were wearing robes of silk, and none of them wore any cloaks, so it was unsurprising that they were shivering, and some had wrapped shawls and scarves around their heads. They were looking at Hogwarts in a way that Draco thought might be akin to how he might look at the Weasley house, and he couldn't help feeling a little ruffled at that. He knew Beauxbatons had a modern building more akin to a palace or ministry building than an old castle, but really, Hogwarts had over a thousand years of history over their school!
"'As Karkaroff arrived yet?" Madame Maxime asked, and Draco frowned. He'd heard that name before…he shrugged. Father had originally wanted him to attend Durmstrang, he had probably told Draco the headmaster's name at one point or another and he had forgotten.
"He should be here any moment," said Dumbledore. "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," said Madame Maxime, "But ze 'orses-"
"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them," said Dumbledore, "the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation which has arisen with some of his other - er - charges."
"Skrewts." Ron said, nodding with a grin.
"I hope we won't have to deal with similar 'slight situations' in our next class." Draco muttered back.
"My steeds require - er - forceful 'andling," said Madame Maxime, looking doubtful. "Zey are very strong…"
"I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job," said Dumbledore, smiling.
"Very well," said Madame Maxime, bowing slightly, "will you please inform zis 'Agrid zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whisky?"
"It will be attended to," sid Dumbledore, also bowing.
With that, Madame Maxime ordered her students to follow her, and the Hogwarts pupil hurriedly parted to allow them to pass.
"Who stuck a wand up their arses?" Draco said, raising an eyebrow as the Beauxbaton's students seemed to shrink away from them all as they passed, holding themselves as if they were walking through a muddy field in expensive shoes.
"Harry!" Hermione scolded, just as Ron burst into sniggers.
"They look like Malfoy, bloody ponces!" he snorted, and Draco stiffened.
The three of them stood in expectant silence, whilst the other pupils began muted conversations as they waited, staring hopefully up at the sky. Beauxbatons' horses snorted and stamped the ground occasionally, but apart from that, the grounds were silent.
"Can you hear something?" Ron said suddenly
Draco's eyes shot immediately towards the lake. He didn't know what it was, but that sucking, roaring sound, the muffled rumbling growing louder and louder, brought to mind a whirlpool, or a waterfall, or perhaps both, and the lake was the nearest source of water.
"The lake!" shouted someone "Look!"
They could clearly see the smooth, black surface of the lake - only it wasn't smooth at all. Near the middle, there was some sort of commotion. The water was rippling and bubbling, and suddenly waves were washing at the muddy banks. Then very suddenly, a whirlpool appeared, as if the lake was about to be drained via a plug hole.
A long, black pole began to rise out of the middle of the whirlpool, and as rigging followed it, Ron and Draco came to the same conclusion.
"A ship!" they breathed together in awe.
"Oh my." Hermione said
Draco didn't envy the Durmstrang students. Their ship looked cold and gloomy, like a ghost ship. Yes, it was impressive; it gleamed in the moonlight, and it was just as huge and majestic as the carriage from Beauxbatons, but all the same, the misty lights at the portals made him shudder.
The waves splashed loudly as the boat finally emerged fully, bobbing in the water violently, and Draco's stomach churned for those on board experiencing the motion. The boat was now gliding towards the shore, and stopped when it reached the shadows. There was a splash as the anchor was lowered, and a gang plank could be seen, being lowered onto the bank.
Pupils began to make their way out of the ship and along the walk way to land. They were all wearing thick cloaks made with shaggy fur, except for the figure in front whose furs were rather sleeker, and gleamed silver.
The man himself, who Draco took to be Karkaroff, called out to Dumbledore as he came into the light.
"Dumbledore!" he called, in a voice so hearty that it had to be false "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"
"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," replied Dumbledore, shaking his hand, which Karkaroff clasped with both of his own.
The man was tall and thin, and he had short, silvery hair and a wispy goatee the same bright colour. "Dear old Hogwarts," he said, his voice ringing with false warmth "How good it is to be here, how good…" Draco shuddered as slimy yellow teeth were revealed as his lips curled into a smile, but the man's eyes remained shrewd.
"Victor, come along, into the warmth…you don't mind, Dumbledore? Victor has a slight head cold…"
Draco's jaw dropped, and he turned to exchange an incredulous expression with Ron.
"What are you two gawking at?" Hermione whispered, giving Ron a nudge when he didn't answer.
"It's the seeker of the Bulgarian National Quidditch team!" Draco whispered back, though he couldn't take his eyes off the receding back of the celebrity, as he was lead into the castle.
"Is that all?" Hermione said disdainfully
"Is that -!" Ron started, but Draco cut him off because he couldn't abide their bickering and he could sense they were about to start.
"We were just surprised to see him is all." he said quickly "I didn't know he was in school."
"Even famous Quidditch players have to go to school!" Hermione said
"I know that!" Ron snapped "It's just I thought he was older!"
"Well, I still don't see what you're-"
"Come on, let's go into the hall." Draco said abruptly, pulling Ron with him as their line began to file back inside the castle.