Caged and secret you think he's gone

Fear, evil and death are drawn

Locked, and stuck inside his box

The seconds tick on the clock

He waits patient, he waits kind,

He waits till you slowly lose your mind

For when the dark hour rises at last

The time for mourning will have past

Preceded first by the wicked words

And the False Prophet's growing herd

Then the Four that ride with fire

Will outmatch the heavenly choir

Woe betide the fateful day

When the child does dismay

For whispers speak; this is the end

There is nothing more to mend

Four that stand firm in love

Four that hope from above

To defeat these Horsemen, fierce

One loyal heart must be pierced

I do not envy the days ahead

And fear that evil will gain tread

But if they stand, strong and true

There may be yet some hope for you

– Chapter Fifteen –

Foreign Champions

"Romi, are you listening?" Dumbledore asked, looking at her concerned, his chin resting on his fingers as he leaned against the desk.

Romi sat across from him, her head propped up against her first and a growing frown appearing on her face. She had been listening to him about different methods of improving the abilities of one's mind, but she had drifted.

"Romi?" he asked again. Romi snapped out of it, and lifted her head of her arm.

"Sorry," she said, rubbing her eyes slightly, "I drifted."

"Where did you go?" Dumbledore asked.

Romi shook her head, "nowhere."

Dumbledore leaned forward. It was very quiet in his office, with soft clicking noises coming from his silver instruments, and Fawkes sleeping on his perch.

"You seemed to have the kind of expression of someone with great problems weighing on their mind," Dumbledore answered. "Perhaps you can share them with me? I might be able to help."

Romi watched him for a moment.

"It's mostly Neville," Romi replied after a moment. "And a little bit about a dream I had."

"What's worrying you about Mr. Longbottom?" Dumbledore asked.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts class," Romi replied. "He… he was pretty broken up about the whole thing."

"Yes, Professor Moody told me about what happened," said Dumbledore. "You're a very loyal, and powerful, friend Romi. I'm sure that Mr Longbottom will come to you when he's ready."

Romi sighed. Neville had been very distant since Defence Against the Dark Arts the day before. He sat beside her at meals and in classes, but he was a million miles away. Romi didn't know how to help him, and she hated seeing him so lost.

"Tell me about the dream that's bothering you?" Dumbledore said.

"I don't really remember it," Romi said, with a sigh. "It's more like a feeling of dread. Like something big is going to happen, something not good."

Dumbledore watched her worried for a half a second then smiled, "I'm sure whatever it is that you're worried about you'll find that you are more than equal to it. I've told you many times that you are powerful, but I don't just mean magically. You are very strong willed, very determined, and you don't let obstacles stop you from doing your best. Just remember that, and you'll be fine."

Romi smiled, "thank you," she said. "That's what my mother keeps saying."

Dumbledore smiled, "your mother is very special, and very wise. I think she's seen the power in you since the day I brought you to her, and I think she's very proud of you."

Romi smiled and then sat up straighter. "Okay," she said. "You were talking about chakras?"

Neville slowly became his old self again as the weeks wore on. He didn't talk about the day in Defence Against the Dark Arts class and Romi didn't ask. Ginny and Luna spent most of their time with Romi and Neville outside, holding onto the last days of summer before they started to become cold.

Mostly they focused on their schoolwork that was slowly becoming harder and harder. Sometimes though, Ginny insisted that Romi keep up her skill with her sword, and sometimes they sat and watched the Giant Squid float around the lake.

The weeks passed on a regular schedule; their lessons were becoming more and more demanding, and Romi's time with Madam Pomfrey was proving to be a lot more difficult than the year before. She had started spending evenings in the Hospital Wing as well, trying to soak in everything Madam Pomfrey was teaching her.

The anatomy lesson had helped last year, but much of the spells and potions they were using were way above fourth year knowledge.

Romi had been returning to Gryffindor Tower each night feeling depleted, but satisfied.

To their surprise, Professor Moody had announced that he would be putting the Imperious curse on each of them in turn, to demonstrate its power and to see whether they could resist its effects.

"But – but you said its illegal, Professor," said Hermione uncertainly, as Moody cleared away the desks with a sweep of his wand, leaving a large clear space in the middle of the room. "You said – to us it against another human was–"

"Dumbledore wants you taught what it feels like," said Moody, his magical eye swivelling onto Hermione and fixing her with an eerie, unblinking stare. "If you'd rather learn the hard way – when someone's putting it on you so they can control you completely – fine by me. You're excused. Off you go."

He pointed on gnarled finger towards the door. Hermione went very pink, and muttered something about not meaning that she wanted to leave. Romi and Neville gave each other anxious glances. Romi didn't like the idea of doing anything and everything that Moody asked her too.

Moody began to beckon students forward in turn and put the Imperious curse up on them. Romi watched as, one by one, her classmates did the most extraordinary things under its influence. Dean Thomas hopped three times around the room, singing the national anthem. Lavender Brown imitated a squirrel. Neville performed a series of quite astonishing gymnastics he would certainly not have been capable of in his normal state. Not one of them seemed to be able to fight the curse off, and each of them recovered only when Moody had removed it.

Now growing extremely nervous, so much so she thought she might throw up, Romi heard her own name called.

"Miss Black," Moody growled, "you next."

She took a step forward, commanding herself to be strong. Romi stared Moody straight in the face as he pointed his wand at her.

"Imperio."

Nothing happened.

Romi frowned slightly, and was going to say something when Moody said in a very command like voice;

"Sing."

Startled, the idea hit Romi that Moody and everyone else in the class thought it had worked. She was on the verge of telling him that he must have missed while placing the spell, when a strong voice inside stopped her.

Just play along.

Romi hated singing. She couldn't carry a tune should it have handles. She didn't want to play along.

But the voice was insistent; no one could know that it wasn't working. This was one of those times when she couldn't stand out in the crowd that she had to keep her power silent.

Romi could see Moody standing in front of her, and his twitching smile, Neville and the rest of the class were standing behind him, looking at her curiously.

She swallowed her pride and sang something that wouldn't require too much talent.

Moody made a motion that would have lifted the curse if it had worked.

"Very well," he said, looking at Romi curiously, "Potter, you next."

Harry moved forward passing Romi with an amused face and stood in the middle of the room. Romi went to stand in between Neville and Ron. Ron had to put a hand to his mouth to hide his smile, then he spoke.

"Romi–"

"If you say anything I will punch you in the face," Romi interrupted bitterly.

"You wouldn't," Ron murmured back.

"It would give me practise at healing broken noses," Romi answered cynically.

Harry was now standing in the middle of the room with a placid expression on his face.

"Jump onto the desk…" Moody said softly.

"Are you okay?" Neville whispered.

"Yeah, fine, why?" Romi asked.

Harry bent his knees preparing to jump.

"You just, had an expression of … um, confusion?" Neville said, "when he placed the curse on you. Everyone else just kind of looked relaxed."

Romi watched Moody and Harry.

"Jump onto the desk," Moody repeated.

But Harry didn't move he was staring at the desk as through it shouldn't be there. There was something in his eyes that doubted his actions.

Romi turned to whisper in Neville.

"It didn't work," Romi said, as softly as she could, making sure that no one but Neville heard her.

He looked back at her startled.

"What do you mean –" he lowered his voice to barely a whisper, "it didn't work?"

"The spell," Romi said. "I didn't feel anything. I chose to do what he said, because I figured it would be better to play along."

"Jump onto the desk."

Still Harry did not move.

"How–" Neville stopped suddenly looking like something was connecting in his mind.

"What?" Romi asked.

"Nothing," Neville said quickly, "I'm sure it was just a fluke."

Romi was going to say something else when Moody practically roared;

"Jump! NOW!"

All of sudden, in what must have been extremely painful, Harry launched himself head first into the desk, causing it to crash and fall over, Harry landing on the ground.

Romi and most of the rest of the class jumped and she forgot to question Neville.

"Now, that's more like it!" growled Moody. "Look at that, you lot… Potter fought! He fought it, and he damn near beat it! We'll try that again, Potter, and the rest of you pay attention – watch his eyes, that's where you see it – very good, Potter, very good indeed! They'll have trouble controlling you!"

"The way he talks," Harry muttered, as he hobbled out of the Defence Against the Dark Arts class an hour later (Moody had insisted on putting Harry through four more attempts until he could throw the curse off entirely), "you'd think we were all going to be attacked any second."

"Stop – stop walking," Romi said, moving them over to the side as everyone else left and bent down to take a look at Harry's knees.

"Yeah, I know," said Ron, who was bouncing on the balls of his feet while Romi healed Harry's kneecaps. Ron had much more difficulty in throwing off the curse than Harry, through Moody assured him the effects would have worn off by lunchtime.

"Talk about paranoid…" Neville said, glancing nervously over his shoulder to check that Moody was definitely out of earshot and went on, "No wonder they were glad to get rid of him at the Ministry, did you hear him telling Seamus what he did to that witch who shouted 'boo' behind him on April Fool's Day?"

"And when are we supposed to read up on resisting the Imperius Curse with everything else we've got to do?" Ron added, with a sigh.

All the fourth years had noticed a definite increase in the amount of work they were required to do this term. Professor McGonagall explained why, when the class gave a particularly loud groan at the amount of Transfiguration homework she had set.

"You are all entering a most important phase of your magical education!" she told them, her eyes glinting dangerously behind her square spectacles. "Your Ordinary Wizarding Levels are drawing closer–"

"We don't take O. till fifth year!" said Dean Thomas indignantly.

"Maybe not, Thomas, but believe me, you need all the preparation you can get! Miss Granger remains the only person in this class who has managed to turn a hedgehog into a satisfactory pincushion. I might reminded you that your pincushion, Thomas, still curls up in fright if anyone approaches it with a pin!"

Hermione, who had turned rather pink, again seemed to be trying not to look too pleased with herself.

Ron and Harry looked deeply amused next Divination class when Professor Trelawney told them that they had received top marks for their homework. She read out large portions of their predictions, commending them for their unflinching acceptance of the horrors in store for them.

Meanwhile Professor Binns, the ghost who taught History of Magic, had them writing weekly essays on the Goblin Rebellions of the eighteenth century, in which Romi had already completed three weeks in advance, but History of Magic had never been an issue for her.

Severus was forcing them to research antidotes. They took this seriously, as he had hinted that he might be poisoning one of them before Christmas to see if their antidote worked. Romi was curious how he was going to get away with that, but she didn't like to talk about school when she had her weekly tea with her godfather.

Professor Flitwick had asked them to read three extra books in preparation for their lesson on Summoning Charms. Madam Pomfrey had Romi trying to cure certain plant bites and removing large objects from orifices. Dumbledore had Romi working her mental abilities she felt like her brain was filleted at the end of each session.

Even Hagrid was adding to their workload. The Blast-Ended Skrewts were growing at a remarkable pace, given that nobody had yet discovered what they ate. Hagrid was delighted and, as part of their 'project', suggested that they come down to his hut on alternate evenings to observe the Skrewts and make notes on their extraordinary behaviour.

"I will not," said Draco flatly, when Hagrid had proposed this with the air of Father Christmas pulling an extra large toy out of his sack. "I see enough of these foul things during lessons, thanks."

Hagrid's smile faded from his face.

"Yeh'll do wha' yer told," he growled, "or I'll be takin' a leaf outta Professor Moody's book… I hear yeh make a good ferret, Malfoy."

Romi tried not to laugh, while the Gryffindors did and Draco flushed with anger. But it was apparent that the memory of Moody's punishment was still sufficiently painful to stop him retorting.

When they arrived in the Entrance Hall, they found themselves unable to proceed owing to the large crowd of students congregated there, all milling around a large sign which had been erected at the foot of the marble staircase. Romi and Neville pushed their way to the front of the crowd to read the message that had been posted on the bulletin board.

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, students will return their bags and books to their dormitories and assemble in the front of the castle to greet out guests before the Welcoming Feast.

"Excellent," said Neville, reading the sign. "Means we have half an hour less of potions on Friday."

"Even everything with the Astaroth last year and you still can't stand Severus' class?" Romi asked, as they pushed their way out of the crowd and back to the Gryffindor Tower.

"Well, it's not as bad as last year," Neville admitted, "but still. I'm still going to celebrate the unexpected free half hour."

Romi smiled, and just hugged her friend as they walked.

The appearance of the sign in the Entrance hall had a marked effect upon the inhabitants of the castle. During the following week, there seemed to be only one topic of conversation, no matter where Romi went; the Triwizard Tournament. Rumours were flying from student to student like highly contagious germs; who was going to try for Hogwarts champion, what the Tournament would involve, and how the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang differed from themselves. Romi even heard two sixth year Slytherins trying to come up with a way to enter even though they were too young, while Romi repaired one of their broken arms.

Romi noticed, too, often when she was coming back from the Slytherin common room near the end of the night, that the castle seemed to be undergoing an extra-thorough cleaning. Several grimy portraits had been scrubbed, much to the displeasure of their subjects, who sat huddled in their frames muttering darkly and wincing as they felt their raw pink faces. The suits of armour were suddenly gleaming and moving without squeaking, and Argus Filch, the caretaker, was behaving so ferociously to any student who forgot to wipe their shoes that he terrified a pair of first-year girls into hysterics. Romi had one run in with Filch when she was tearing through the castle almost late for tea with her Godfather and left a trail of mud. Filch caught her just before reaching Severus' office. Lucky for her, Severus came to her rescue, but only to reprimand her later.

Other members of staff seemed oddly tense, too.

"Longbottom, kindly do not reveal that you can't even perform a simple Switching Spell in front of anyone from Durmstrang!" Professor McGonagall barked at the end of one particularly difficult lesson, during which Neville had accidentally transplanted his own ears onto a cactus.

When they went down to breakfast on the morning of the thirtieth of October, they found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banner hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts house – red with a gold lion for Gryffindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teacher's table, the large banner of all bore the Hogwarts coast of the arms: lion, eagle, badger and snake united around a large letter 'H'.

"They are really trying to impress, aren't they?" Ginny said, as they found themselves at the Gryffindor Table.

"Clearly," Neville muttered. He was still a little sore about the cactus incident the day before.

Luna appeared at the table. "Did Professor McGonagall give you a long speech about proper behaviour tonight?" she asked joining them and helping herself to some toast.

"No, not yet," Romi answered looking a little startled. "Did Professor Sinistra give one to you?"

"Yes," Luna replied, "last night during Astronomy. She was very intent on making sure the school seemed competent."

"I guess there's a lot of rivalry between the schools," Ginny said, she stopped pouring her syrup over her pancakes to look at Luna. "You're not going to get into trouble for sitting with us, are you?"

"Oh, I don't think so," Luna replied. "At least not for breakfast."

"Good," Romi said firmly, "I don't know what we'd do without your company, Luna."

"I expect you'd find ways to amuse yourselves," Luna replied innocently, "most people can do without me."

Romi and Neville laughed. Ginny smiled.

"Luna, it was a way of saying that we like having you here," Ginny said with a shake of her head.

Luna smiled to herself, and continued to eat her breakfast.

Romi grinned and looked down to her porridge, and was just about to take a spoon full, when the whole bowl burst into flames.

She jumped back, away from the table, startling everyone around her. She stared at the porridge bowl – it had no indication that it was just on fire.

"Are you alright, Romi?" asked Neville. Everyone in the vicinity was staring at her.

"Yeah," Romi said, sitting down, feeling her face redden. "Thought I saw a bug."

Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, who was sitting beside them, chuckled and then went back to their conversation. Romi continued to stare at her plate, looking around it.

"Are you okay?" Ginny asked, looking at Romi with a confused face.

"It just caught on fire," Romi whispered. "I swear it did. Like whole thing on fire."

"There isn't any sign that it was on fire," Ginny said logically. Romi picked up her porridge bowl and a small piece of parchment floated down and rested on the table. Ginny leaned over and pick it up. She read it, and frowned.

"What is it?" Romi asked, putting her breakfast down again.

"I don't know," replied Ginny, handing the parchment back. Romi took it and she and Neville put their heads together to read it.

Elena figured out the spell.

The cage has been broken.

The Four Horsemen have been released.

"The cage has been broken. The four horsemen have been released," Neville read out loud, sounding panicky. "What does that mean? What spell has Elena figured out?"

"I dunno," Romi said shrugging. "Does that mean anything to you?"

Luna shook her head and Ginny held out her hand.

"It sounds familiar," said Ginny, squinting, reading the paper over again. "Doesn't sound good."

"Good and Elena don't really occupy the same sentence," Neville said sardonically.

"I wonder if that's where she's been," Romi said, looking worried. "Figuring out this – spell."

"Where did it come from?" Luna asked. "That can't be a coincidence that you saw fire and then it appeared."

"Maybe from Captain?" Neville suggested.

"Maybe," Romi replied, looking at the parchment in Ginny's hands. "I haven't heard anything from Captain recently and I haven't been to… well… Hell, if we decided that's what it was."

They were quiet for a long moment.

The bell rang to start classes making them all jump, and look around. Everyone was getting up and heading out of the Great Hall.

"We'd better go," Romi said, getting up from her seat.

"I'll take this with me," said Ginny, taking the parchment. "I might be able to figure out what it means by 'The cage has been broken' and stuff."

"Best idea I've heard all day," Romi replied. "Come on."

There was a feeling of anticipation in the air that day. Everyone in the castle was much more interested in the arrival of the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. Romi and Neville however, were slightly more preoccupied with the note from this morning.

The mention of Elena had made Neville forget Professor McGonagall's harsh words, and he was much more paranoid, and kept looking over his shoulder. Romi didn't try to calm him down, because as much as she was telling herself that Elena couldn't possibly get into the school with all the extra security measures in place for the Triwizard Tournament, but deep down she knew that Elena would be able to manage it if she really wanted too.

Neville and Romi were the first out of Severus' class that day, hurrying up the stairs towards Gryffindor Tower to drop their books off and find Ginny.

Ginny was just coming out of the Tower when Romi and Neville arrived; Romi hurried up to her.

"Anything?" she asked.

"I'm sorry," replied Ginny, "I didn't have a lot of time at lunch to come up with anything. I'll start looking again tomorrow morning."

"Yes, of course," Romi said. "We'll help you."

"Sounds great," sighed Ginny. "Come on, we'd better not be late."

Ginny waited while Neville and Romi dumped their books in their dormitory and then the three of them ran down to the Entrance Hall.

The teachers there were organizing the students into lines on the front steps according to year. Romi and Neville found themselves in the middle with the rest of the fourth years.

"I wonder how they are going to arrive?" Neville asked, pulling his overcloak around him more, against the chill in the air.

"I dunno," Romi said, shedding her overcloak, feeling much too hot. She dumped it on Neville's arm, and he patiently held onto it.

Romi put her hands on her hips and looked around the grounds, the wind blowing her fiery red hair out of her face.

Professor McGonagall was making her way through the lines, barking at the students to smarten themselves up.

"Miss Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair," she snapped at Pavarti, who scowled and removed a large ornate butterfly from her braid.

Professor McGonagall made it to Romi and Neville.

"Mr Longbottom, kindly fix your tie, and Miss Black, put your cloak back on," she said, when she got there. Neville started to pull his tie back into place.

"But, Professor it's too hot," Romi protested. Professor McGonagall just raised her eyebrows, and Romi sighed, taking her overcloak back from Neville and throwing it around her shoulders.

Professor McGonagall moved on from them, and then finally making it to the end of the line, she turned and waited, like the rest of the school.

The school stood there quietly looking in all directions, waiting for some sign of the arrival.

"Aha!" said Dumbledore's voice from the top of the steps. "Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

"Where?" said many students eagerly, all looking in different directions. Romi and Neville were among them, trying to catch a glimpse of the approaching delegation.

"There!" yelled a sixth-year pointing over to the Forest.

Something large, much larger than a broomstick – or, indeed, a hundred broom sticks – was hurtling across the deep blue sky towards the castle, growing larger all the time.

"It's a dragon!" shrieked one of the first-years, losing her head completely.

"Don't be stupid… it's a flying house!" said Dennis Creevey.

"I think it's a carriage," said Ron on Romi's other side.

Ron was right. A large horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, was soaring towards them, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant.

The front three rows of students drew backwards as the carriage hurtled ever lower, coming in to land at a tremendous speed – then, with an almighty crash that made many people jump – the horses' hooves, larger than dinner plates, hit the ground.

Romi had just enough time to see that the door of the carriage bore a coat of arms (two crossed, golden wands, each emitting three stars) before it opened.

A boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage, bent forwards, fumbled for a moment with something on the carriage floor and unfolded a set of golden steps. He sprang back respectfully. Then Romi saw a shining, high-heeled black shoe emerging from the inside of the carriage – a shoe the size of a child's sled – followed, almost immediately, by the largest woman Romi had ever seen. The size of the carriage and of the horses was immediately explained. A few people in the front rows gasped.

Romi had only seen one person as large as this woman and that happened to be Hagrid. She had never really thought about exactly what made Hagrid so large, and she was quite sure that she didn't really want to know.

The woman stepped into the light flooding from the Entrance Hall, she was revealed to have a handsome, olive-skinned face, large black, liquid-looking eyes and a rather beaky nose. Her hair was drawn back in a shining knob at the base of her neck. She was dressed from head to foot in black satin, and many magnificent opals gleamed at her throat and on her thick fingers.

Dumbledore started to clap; the students, following his lead, broke into applause too, many of them standing on tiptoe, to take a better look at this woman. Romi clapped politely, but was too engrossed with staring at this woman.

The woman's face relaxed into a gracious smile, and she walked forwards towards Dumbledore, extending a glittering hand. Dumbledore, though tall himself, had barely to bend to kiss it.

"My dear Madame Maxime," he said. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dorr," said Madame Maxime, in a deep voice. "I 'ope I find you well?"

"On excellent form, I thank you," said Dumbledore.

"My pupils," said Madame Maxime, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her.

Romi whose attention was solely on Madame Maxime, now noticed that around a dozen or so boys and girls – all, by the look of them, in their late teens – had emerged from the carriage and were now standing behind Madame Maxime.

They were shivering, which was unsurprising, given that their robes seemed to be made of fine silk, and none of them were wearing cloaks. A few of them had wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads. From what Romi could see of their faces in Madame Maxime's shadow, they were staring up at Hogwarts with apprehensive looks on their faces.

"'As Karkaroff arrived yet?" Madame Maxime asked.

"He should be here any moment," replied 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 muttered.

Romi stifled a snort and Neville gave her a disapproving glare.

"My steeds require – er – forceful 'andling," said Madame Maxime, looking as though she doubted whether any Care of Magical Creatures teacher at Hogwarts could be up to the job. "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 se 'orses drink only single-malt whisky?"

"It will be attended to," said Dumbledore, also bowing.

"Come," said Madame Maxime imperiously to her students, and the Hogwarts crowd parted to allow her and her students to pass up the stone steps.

"How big do you reckon Durmstrang's horses are going to be?" Seamus Finnigan said.

"Well, if they're any bigger that this lot, even Hagrid won't be able to handle them," replied Harry. "That's if he hasn't been attacked by his Skrewts. Wonder what's up with them?"

"Maybe they've escaped," said Ron hopefully.

"Oh, don't say that," said Hermione, with a shudder. "Imagine that lot loose in the grounds…"

"Maybe they've killed each other," Romi said, squinting into the growing darkness.

"I like that idea much better," Harry replied.

They stood, shivering slightly now, waiting for the Durmstrang party to arrive. Most people were gazing hopefully up at the sky. For a few minutes, the silence was broken only by Madame Maxime's huge horses snorting and stamping. But then–

"Can you hear something?" Romi asked, looking around.

"Like what?" Neville asked.

"Sounds like – gurgling?"

"No…" Neville said looking at her worried. Romi looked around trying to focus on the sound. Harry and Neville were watching her like she was crazy.

There was silence and a muffled sucking sound grew louder, as though someone was running a vacuum cleaner along a riverbed.

"I hear it now," Neville said, eyes wide.

"The lake!" yelled Lee Jordan, pointing down at it. "Look at the lake!"

From their position at the top of the lawns overlooking the grounds, they had a clear view of the smooth black surface of the water. Except that the surface was suddenly not smooth at all. Some disturbance was taking place deep in the centre; great bubbles were forming on the surface, waves were now washing over the muddy banks – and then, out in the very middle of the lake, a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had just been pulled out of the lake's floor.

What seemed to be a long, black pole began to rise slowly out of the heart of the whirlpool and then Romi saw that there was rigging.

"It's a mast," Harry said, beside her.

Slowly magnificently, the ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. It had a strangely skeletal look about it, as though it was a resurrected wreck, and the dim, misty lights shimmering at its portholes looked light ghostly eyes. Finally with a great sloshing noise, the ship emerged entirely, bobbing on the turbulent water, and began to glide towards the bank. A few moments later, they heard the splash of an anchor being thrown down in the shallows, and the thud of a plank being lowered onto the bank.

People were disembarking; they could see their silhouettes passing the lights in the ship's portholes. All of them, Romi noticed, seemed to be built along the lines of Crabbe and Goyle, but then, as they drew nearer, walking up the lawns into the light streaming from the Entrance hall, she saw that their bulk was really due to the fact that they were wearing cloaks of some kind of shaggy, matted fur. But the man who was leading them up to the castle was wearing furs of a different sort; sleek and silver, like his hair.

"Dumbledore!" he called heartily, as he walked up to the slope. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

There was something about Karkaroff's voice that split through Romi's head as though slicing through butter. She put a hand to her head, rubbing it.

"Are you alright?" Neville asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," replied Romi, putting her hand down again.

"Blooming!" Dumbledore answered. "Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff."

Karkaroff had a fruity, unctuous voice; when he stepped into the light pouring from the front doors of the castle, they saw that he was tall and thin like Dumbledore, but his white hair was short, and his goatee (finishing in a small curl) did not entirely hide his rather weak chin. When he reached Dumbledore, he shook hands with both of his own.

"Dear old Hogwarts," he said, looking up at the castle and smiling; his teeth were rather yellow, and Romi noticed that his smile did not extend to his eyes, which remained cold and shrewd. "How good it is to be here, how good… Viktor, come along, into the warmth… you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold…"

Karkaroff beckoned forwards one of his students. As the boy passed, Romi caught a glimpse of a prominent, curved nose and thick black eyebrows, she didn't need the hiss from Ron to recognize the profile.

"Harry!" Ron hissed behind both of the twins. "It's Krum."