– Chapter Sixteen –
The Rising
"Wow," Neville said, as he and Romi filed back into the school along with the rest of the students, "I mean, wow," he repeated, in kind of a star-struck sort of way.
"You going to be okay, or would you like to be alone with your thoughts for a while," Romi teased. Neville pushed her slightly, looking sheepish.
Neville wasn't the only one acting odd at the arrival of Viktor Krum; Romi saw Lee Jordan jumping up and down on the soles of his feet to get a better look at the back of Krum's head, several sixth-year girls were frantically searching their pockets as they walked – "Oh, I don't believe it, I haven't got a single quill on me–" "D'you think he'd sign my hat in lipstick?"
They made it into the Great Hall and found seats with Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny. The Beauxbatons students had settled themselves at the Ravenclaw table. They were looking rather unhappy, gripping shawls that were wrapped around their heads.
The students from Durmstrang were taking seats at the Slytherin table. They were looking at the starry black sky with expressions of awe and examining the gold plates clearly impressed.
Just then the staff entered, filed up to the top table and taking their seats. Last in line were Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime. When their Headmistress appeared, the pupils from Beauxbatons leapt to their feet. A few of the Hogwarts students laughed. The Beauxbatons party appeared quite unembarrassed, and did not resume their seats until Madame Maxime had sat down on Dumbledore's left hand side. Dumbledore, however, remained standing, and a silence fell over the Great Hall.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and most particularly guests," said Dumbledore, beaming around at the foreign students. "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 unmistakeably a derisive laugh.
"No one's making you stay!" Hermione whispered, bristling at her.
"Chill, Hermione," Romi said.
"The Tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," said Dumbledore. "I now invite you all to eat, drink and make yourselves at home!"
He sat down and Romi watched Karkaroff lean forward at once and engage him in conversation. The dishes in front of them filled with food as usual. The house-elves in the kitchen seemed to have pulled out all the stops; there was greater variety of dishes in front of them than Romi had ever seen, including several that were definitely foreign. Romi didn't really care though, she had eaten foreign food plenty of times before when her father had been working in another countries. All she cared about right then was the painful rumbling of her stomach and immediately started to eat.
"What's that?" asked Ron, pointing at a large dish of some sort of shellfish stew that stood beside a large steak and kidney pudding.
"Bouillabaisse," said Hermione immediately.
"Bless you," said Ron.
"It's French," said Hermione irritated. "I had it on holiday, summer before last, it's very nice."
"I'll take your word for it," said Ron, helping himself to black pudding.
The Great Hall seemed somehow much more crowded than usual, even though there were barely twenty additional students there; perhaps it was because their differently coloured uniforms stood out so clearly against the black of the Hogwarts robes. Now that they had removed their furs, the Durmstrang students were revealed to be wearing robes of a deep blood red.
Hagrid sidled into the hall through a door behind the staff table twenty minutes after the start of the feast. He slid into his seat at the end and waved at their little group with a very heavily bandaged hand.
"Skrewts doing all right, Hagrid?" Harry called.
"Thrivin'," Hagrid replied happily.
"Yeah, I'll just bet they are," said Ron quietly. "Looks like they've finally found a food they like, doesn't it? Hagrid's fingers."
At that moment a voice said, "Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?"
It was the girl from Beauxbatons who had laughed during Dumbledore's speech. She had finally removed her muffler. A long sheet of silvery blonde hair fell almost to her waist. She had large, deep blue eyes and very white, even teeth.
Ron went purple. He stared up at her, opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out except a faint gurgling noise. Romi elbowed Harry and he spoke;
"Yeah, have it," said Harry, pushing the disk towards the girl.
"You 'ave finished wiz it?"
"Yeah," Ron said breathlessly. "Yeah, it was excellent."
Romi rolled her eyes glancing at Ginny. Ginny looked like she was trying very hard not to laugh, Romi had to bite her lip to keep from starting. The girl picked up the dish and carried it carefully off to the Ravenclaw table. Ron was still goggling at the girl as though he had never seen one before. Ginny and Romi started to laugh openly and the sound seemed to jog Ron back to his senses.
"She's a Veela!" he said hoarsely to them.
"Of course she isn't!" said Hermione tartly. "I don't see anything else gaping at her like an idiot."
"Then you'd best look again," Romi commented. As the girl crossed the Hall, many boys' heads turned and some of them seemed to have become temporarily speechless, just like Ron.
"I'm telling you, that's not a normal girl!" Ron said leaning sideways so that he could keep a clear view of her. "They don't make them like that at Hogwarts."
"They make them okay at Hogwarts," said Harry, clearly without thinking.
"They don't 'make' them anywhere, they're people," Romi said angrily, her humor at Ron's face gone. Both Ron and Harry seemed to shrink under Romi's angry glare.
"Calm down, Romi," Neville said quietly. "Don't give yourself an aneurysm."
"When you two have put your eyes back in," said Hermione, pointedly to Harry and Ron, "you'll be able to see who's just arrived."
She was pointing up at the staff table. The two remaining empty seats had just been filled. Ludo Bagman was now sitting on Professor Karkaroff's other side, while Mr Crouch, Percy's boss, was next to Madame Maxime.
"What are they doing here?" said Harry in surprise.
"They organized the Triwizard Tournament," Romi said. "They're here to enjoy it, and judge, probably."
"How is it that you know everything?" Ron asked.
"I bet you anything my dad was helping organizing this," Romi replied. "Mr Crouch is his boss after all."
When the second course arrived, they noticed a number of unfamiliar desserts; Ron examined an odd sort of pale blancmange closely, then moved it carefully a few inches to his right, so that it would be clearly visible from the Ravenclaw table. However, the girl who looked like a Veela appeared to have eaten enough, and did not come over to get it.
Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again. A pleasant sort of tension seemed to fill the Hall now. Romi started to feel a thrill of excitement, temporarily haven forgotten about the mysterious parchment from this morning. A few seats along from them, Fred and George were leaning forwards, staring at Dumbledore with great concentration.
"The moment has come," said Dumbledore, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket–"
"The what?" Harry muttered.
"It's like a box," Romi said simply, as Neville shrugged.
"–Just to clarify the procedure which we will be following this year. But firstly, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation" – there was a smattering of polite applause – "and Mr Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."
There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps because of his fame as a Beater or simply because he looked so much more likeable. He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand. Bartemius Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced. Romi couldn't help at smile at the sight of Crouch's neat toothbrush moustache and severe parting next to Dumbledore's wild long white hair and beard.
"Mr Bagman and Mr Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued. "And they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime on the panel which will judge the champions' efforts."
At the mention of Champions, the attentiveness of the listening students seemed to sharpen.
Perhaps Dumbledore had noticed their sudden stillness, for he smiled as he said, "The casket, then, if you please, Mr Filch."
Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall, now approached Dumbledore, carrying a great wooden chest, encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students; Dennis Creevey actually stood on his chair to see it properly, but, being so tiny, his head hardly rose above anyone else's.
"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr Crouch and Mr Bagman," said Dumbledore, as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him. "And they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways… their magical prowess – their daring – their powers of deduction – and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."
At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing.
"As you know, three champions compete in the Tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector… the Goblet of Fire."
Dumbledore took out his wand, and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. Dumbledore reached inside it, and pulled out a large roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable, had it not been full to the brim with dancing, blue-white flames.
Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the Goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall.
"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly on a slip of parchment, and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore; "Aspiring champions have twenty four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the Goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The Goblet will be placed in the Entrance Hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.
"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," said Dumbledore, "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the Entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.
"Finally, I wish to impress any of you wishing to compete that this Tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the Tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the Goblet constitutes a binding magical contract. There can be no change of heart, once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are whole-heartedly prepared to play, before you drop your name into the Goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Goodnight to you all."
There was much chatter of who was going to try entering their names into the Goblet and the outrageous cries of those who wanted to enter but were too young as they all made their way back to their dormitories.
"Would you try and enter? If you were old enough of course?" Seamus Finnigan asked the fourth years close to them.
"I think we'd have a shot," Ron said beside Romi, as they separated from the Ravenclaws, heading towards Gryffindor Tower. "We've done some pretty dangerous stuff before, right Harry?"
"Not before a panel of judges," Romi said. "Could you handle all that dangerous stuff and still manage to look cool."
Ron seemed a little put out even though Ginny was smiling.
"Well, what about you Romi?" Harry said, pushing his twin slightly, grinning widely. "You've got yourself into plenty of ridiculous situations."
"I would rather not die this year, if I don't have too," Romi retorted. They made it to the Gryffindor Tower and all climbed inside. Neville, Ginny and Romi found a corner before heading up to bed.
"What time were you thinking of getting a head start?" Romi asked, as she watched everyone else heading to bed to sitting and chatting about the Triwizard Tournament by the fire.
"First thing," Ginny replied. "I really want to know what that's all about. I don't like the way that Captain's not talking to you directly. I feel like something's wrong."
"I agree," Romi said. "And this whole Triwizard Tournament making me anxious too."
"You were seriously about what you said to Harry, weren't you?" Neville asked, looking at Romi intensely.
"About not dying?" Romi clarified, "well, yeah. Honestly, look at the last three years I've been at Hogwarts. Elena nearly drowned me, I nearly got eaten by a manticore and last year we were nearly lost in nightmare land forever."
Neville shrugged in agreement. "I'd rather not anyone died this year."
"Sounds great," Ginny said, "We're all in agreement. No dying. Shall I wake you up tomorrow?"
"Better not," Romi said. "Parvati and Lavender get really grumpy if they are woken before they naturally wake up on the weekends. I'll meet you in the library."
"Sounds good," Ginny said. "Let me know if you have any dreams."
"Sure thing," replied Romi. Ginny sighed and took herself off to bed, leaving Neville and Romi alone.
Neville was quiet for a moment.
"Do you think it has anything to do with the Triwizard Tournament?" he asked finally. Romi looked at him.
"I hope not," Romi replied. "I'm worried about that enough as it is."
"Okay," answered Neville. "I'll try and be up early with you guys. Goodnight."
"Night," Romi said, as Neville took himself off to the boy's dormitories. Romi watched him go and then turned to the girls' stairs and went to her room.
Zhi was stretched across her bed as she arrived, purring contently when Romi walked in the door. Hermione and the other girls were not there yet and Romi quickly changed into her pyjamas and curled under the covers. Zhi stretched, and then slowed walked to Romi's head, kneaded her pillow for a few moments and then cuddled up to Romi's face.
"Will I ever have a normal year at school, Zhi?" Romi murmured to her cat as she scratched Zhi between her ears. Zhi just purred louder in return and Romi sighed. "You're right," she whispered, "what is a normal year?"
Romi woke the next morning to the sound of the birds chirping out the window and a cool breeze playing in her face. The sun had just risen, giving the room a fresh morning feel. Zhi was no longer on the bed, and Romi contemplated going back to sleep for a couple more hours.
But she remembered what they were supposed to be researching and so carefully and quietly got out of bed. Hermione, Parvati and Lavender were still sound asleep, so Romi dressed quickly, and slipped out of the dormitory.
She went down to the Common Room expecting it to be completely empty, but instead she saw Neville sitting at one of the tables, his head propped up against the table with his hand, and his eyes closed. He had his books spread out in front of him.
Romi walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, Neville," she said softly. He started, opening his eyes and looking up at her.
"Hey," he replied groggily, yawning and stretching. "You're up early."
"I could say the same for you," Romi replied. "What are you doing?"
"I couldn't sleep," he answered. "So I thought I might be able to do some research."
"What's all this?" Romi asked, looking at the sheets in front of him.
"Myths," Neville replied. "Mostly," he pulled out a very old tattered book of the Tales of Beetle the Bard, opening it gingerly. "I was looking for anything suggestion that it might make sense with that note."
"Did you find anything?" Romi asked.
"That most fairy tales are disturbingly creepy," Neville replied, dropping the book down again. "Other than that, no, not really."
"What made you think of looking at different Myths?" Romi asked, sitting down and pulling a large old book towards her. It looked like it was written in Old English.
"It's just a pattern," Neville said, vaguely not looking at her. "I've been looking at Ancient Greek myths as well. They're very… informative. If we're taking them more as fact that myth."
"And why would we take them as fact?" Romi asked, raising her eyebrows looking at her best friend. She was having the feeling that he wasn't tell her something.
"Like I said. Myths seems to be proved as real around you – I mean, us," Neville said quickly. He glanced at her and then went back to his book. Romi stared at him surprised and was about to say something when the Portrait Hole opened, and Ginny came through. She looked like she had been up all night long too.
"Oh," she said, surprised, looking up and seeing the two of them there. "I didn't expect you up so early."
"You weren't kidding when you said you were getting up first thing, were you?" Romi replied.
Ginny shook her head, "Luna's up too. She's making her way to the Great Hall, we got too hungry. I just wanted to grab a book from my room, last straw, might help, might not."
"Oh dear," Romi replied, with a sigh. "I guess we're in for a rather long day. Well, I'm kinda hungry too, why don't we go down to breakfast and take it from there?"
Neville rubbed his eyes, yawning widely. He nodded emphatically to show his enthusiasm for that idea, even though he couldn't vocalise his opinion.
"Alright," Ginny said, yawning in response to Neville's big yawn, "I'll meet you there."
Romi and Neville made their way out of the common room and through the still silent castle. The entrance hall has a few people milling about, looking at the Goblet of Fire that was sitting right in the middle, burning bright blue, and surrounded by a very wide circle, two meters in every direction from the Goblet.
"I wonder if anyone's put their names in yet?" Neville said, as they slowed to watch the dancing flames with the rest of the students.
"Maybe in the middle of the night? Not so many spectators," Romi said.
"I expect Gran would have at least wanted me to try," Neville said miserably. Romi pushed her best friend's shoulder.
"Hey," she said firmly, "none of that. I need you on my side. I have a feeling you'll be doing plenty that is worth all the glory in the world."
Neville smiled slightly and they made their way into the Great Hall. More early risers were settled there, talking excitedly and craning their necks to peer through the open door into the entrance hall.
Romi scanned the crowd and saw Luna sitting at the Ravenclaw table. Romi tapped Neville's shoulder and pointed to Luna. They went over to sit with her. The few Ravenclaws at the table gave them a quick curious glance, but they were quickly distracted by some clapping in the Entrance Hall.
"I guess someone put their name in," Neville said, looking at the Entrance Hall as he sat down beside Luna. Romi took the seat opposite of them, and pulled over some toast.
"I hope they know what they are getting themselves into," Luna said lightly.
"I hope we know what we're getting ourselves into," Neville muttered. He didn't seem much interested in his breakfast, and kept glancing at Romi out of the corner of his eye. Romi didn't know what to make of his behaviour.
Romi was half way through her toast when she glanced up and saw Ginny making her way into the hall. She waved, and Ginny caught sight of her and hurried over.
She was only a few feet away when Romi released that she was wearing a very panicky expression on her face.
"Oh, no," said Neville seeing her arrive.
"What's wrong?" asked Romi, quickly, "are you alright."
"No," Ginny replied, throwing the book on the table and sitting beside Romi. She leaned and whispered. "I think I figured it out."
"Great, what is it?" Romi asked.
"Not great, it's definitely, definitely not great," Ginny said, sounding a little hysterical. "Have you ever heard of the Muggle religion, Judeo-Christian?"
"Sounds familiar," Romi replied.
"They have a scarily accurate story in their sacred text to one of the Western Magical legends," Ginny said, pulling the book over to her and opening it up. "I'm mean, it's not exactly the same as our legend, but it's kinda accurate."
"Ginny, get to the point," Romi said. Ginny slid the book in front of Romi. "What's this?" Romi asked, picking it up and glancing at Luna and Neville slightly confused.
"The Book of Revelations," Ginny replied. "The Apocalypse. The end of times. The Final Judgement. I could continue."
Romi stared at the book and at Ginny, and then to Neville and Luna. "You're joking," said Romi to Ginny.
"Please, please, tell me you're joking," Neville squeaked.
"I wish I was," Ginny replied bitterly. "It's not a perfect fit with what's written here. But it's closer to the Magical legend."
"Okay," Romi asked. "Which is…?"
"Seven thousand years ago, four witches and wizards sealed the four horsemen of the Apocalypse into hell to prevent them from raising the most powerful, darkest wizard in all of existence," Ginny explained. "They were sealed into a cage, with a very powerful spell, by a very powerful witch. Each of the horsemen had their nemesis in the four that they faced, and it was the girl who defeated Death that sealed them into a cage. They were to be there eternally. However, several hundred years after the almost apocalypse, someone broke the tomb stone, guarding their graves. Now someone who knew the simple spell to release the gates of hell would be able to raise them again. At the beginning, there were those who guarded the gate, but after time, it fell into a legend and myth and no one believed that it was real."
"And you think Elena has broken open the gates of hell?" Romi asked.
Ginny shrugged, "It's the most plausible. Captain must have been trying to warn you – taking you to hell and everything."
Romi looked down at the book in front of her. There was silence as more people filed into Great Hall for breakfast.
"Why?" Luna asked finally. "Why would Elena want to end the world?"
"There is a theory about that, too," Ginny said. "And old myth is that there are two realms. The living and the dead, and there is a thin membrane in between keeping them separate. If that membrane were to break, they would implode into each other, causing the universe to be destroyed completely – and theoretically, created completely new."
"That's sounds preposterous," Romi said, still staring at the book.
"No, it doesn't," Neville said. "At least, the whole living world and dead world and the place in the middle… Romi, we've been there…"
"You've what?" Ginny asked astonished.
"In that 'in between', don't you remember, Romi?" Neville asked, "last year, when we were sealing the Astaroth. The dream layers, all the way to the bottom. According to Diomeda Odessa, we were in that 'in between' world."
"Not really," Romi replied. "That's all kind of a jumble."
"Oh," answered Neville. "Well, it happened."
"So, what?" Luna asked. "Elena's trying to reboot the universe? What purpose would that serve?"
"I dunno," Ginny said. "But frankly, I don't think we have much time to think about that."
"What do you mean?" Romi asked.
"Well, there are a couple of things that are the same in these two," Ginny said, tapping the book in front of Romi. "Four Horsemen, wreaking havoc; Famine, Pestilence, War and Death. Usually they are considered to be metaphorical, but sometimes in Revelations it talks about them as though they were persons. I'm inclined to believe that they are. Four horsemen, they could be anywhere in the world right now."
"That's an encouraging thought," Neville hissed, as group of Ravenclaws sat nearby them. They leaned closer together so that no one could hear them. "How do we find them?"
"The False Prophet," Ginny said. "Magical legend says that the False Prophet will call his army leaders to him to raise Lucifer."
"Lucifer?" Romi whispered.
"The name of that wicked wizard," Ginny said with a wave of her hand. "Revelations has it a bit different, but I'm going to run with the magical legend on this one. I didn't even think about it, until I saw revelations. I don't think that myth was ever written down. Too creepy."
"I'll say," Romi said. "What do we do about it?"
"What do you mean?" Ginny asked. "The Apocalypse? How about tell the people you love how much you care and party to the world ends?"
Luna, Neville and Romi were silent, just watching Ginny.
"Or," Ginny said softly, as though trying to convince herself to even say this option, "We could seal them back into hell."
"Great, I like that option," Romi said. "How do we do that?"
Ginny sighed, "I have no idea."
"Well, it was done once before, right?" Romi said, trying to sound optimistic. "It can happen again?"
"Yeah," Neville said, staring off into space, thinking hard. "Ginny, you said that the first time this happened it was seven thousand years ago?"
"Yeah, I did," Ginny replied. "Is that important?"
Neville glanced at Romi, "maybe," he said, then smiled, "maybe not."
They stayed at the Ravenclaw table for another hour or so, as the Great Hall filled up around them. They had to break off discussion as everyone around them were talking too loudly about the Triwizard Tournament.
They finally left the Great Hall, making their way through the crowds. Just as they were getting outside, where they could talk in more privacy, the crowd parted and all of the students from Beauxbatons came in.
Madame Maxime entered the hall behind her students and organized them into a line. One by one, the Beauxbatons students stepped across the Age Line and dropped their slips of parchment into the blue-white flames. As each name entered the fire, it turned briefly red and emitted sparks.
"What'll happen to the ones that aren't chosen," Neville asked, as the students dropped their names in the goblet.
"I guess they'll stay," Ginny said, "Madam Maxime is staying to judge right?"
"Yes," added Luna, "most likely they'll continue their classes here in between the tournament."
"And the apocalypse," Neville added darkly.
Romi sighed and watched the Beauxbatons students depart the Entrance Hall again, led by Madame Maxime.
Chatter resumed in the Entrance Hall, a little louder than before the arrival of the foreign students.
"Shall we?" Romi asked and they made their way outside. Romi took a deep breath when she got out there, having the sudden feeling that the castle was too stuffy. Without realising, Romi directly her steps towards the lake. It was a bit chillier now that it was the end of October, but Romi found it refreshing. She sat right near the lake, tucking her arms around her knees and stared out to it.
Neville, Ginny and Luna had barely sat down beside her when a wave crashed at their feet, spraying them all with water and the large pinkish dome of the Giant Squid barely broke the surface. There was a rumble, and a bunch of bubbles burst around it, and a couple tentacles came up and waved.
Romi and Neville waved back, grinning.
"The Giant Squid seems to like you two," Luna said, conversationally.
"I guess you form friendships when you save people's lives," Romi replied nonchalantly. Luna gave her a curious look, but Romi didn't elaborate. She lay back in the grass and sighed, thinking how nice it would be to go to school that nothing dangerous was happening.
She let the warm breeze play of her face; she barely noticed at first but then it felt too hot for a late October morning.
Romi whipped open her eyes and had to almost immediately close them again. There was an inferno raging around her, burning her arms and cheeks.
"You figured it out!" shouted a voice beside her. Romi turned to look, she could barely see the outline of a man.
"Captain?" Romi called.
"Look, I don't have a lot of time. The four will be coming soon to where you are. They may arrive together, or they might get distracted and arrive separately. Point being, you have to be prepared, there's one for each of you. You and your friends," Captain explained in a hurry.
"Why are they coming to us?" shouted Romi.
"The False Prophet is close by you now. You must figure out who it is," Captain shouted.
"The False Prophet is here, now?" Romi questioned.
"He is arriving as we speak," Captain said. "I cannot give you anymore help than this; each horsemen has a necklace – it embodies their spirits, together they can help thrown them back into hell."
"Wait –"
"How?" Romi said out loud.
"How what?" Neville asked. Romi opened her eyes to look around. She was lying on the bank near the lake, in the cool breeze. There was still warmth in her cheeks though from her adventure. She sat up quickly and looked around.
"Are you alright?" Ginny asked concerned.
Romi fanned herself, "I'm alright," she replied, "just overheating from hell."
"But you didn't go anywhere," Neville said, frowning. "You were here with us the entire time."
"Not necessarily," Luna said. She put a hand on Romi's arm. "She is very hot, besides, our Romi is just full of surprises, why should this be any different?"
Romi squirmed a little bit. She didn't really like the fact that her friends thought she was different. Whether or not it was true.
"What did you learn in Hell?" Ginny asked.
"The False Prophet is here, or will be here soon," Romi answered.
"What? At Hogwarts?" Ginny replied.
"Apparently," said Romi, rubbing her eyes, pushing her glasses to her forehead.
"That means the four horsemen are coming here," Luna said, watching Romi with her large eyes. "Isn't that right?"
"Yup, all four of them," Romi replied, rubbing her hands on her pants. "Luckily there are four of us."
"You're suggesting that we actually face them?" Neville squeaked. "I mean seriously?"
"Yes, Neville," Romi said, looking at him, "what did you think we were talking about?"
"I just had some shred of hope that – you know, to quote you last night – that we might survive the year," Neville said dryly, staring at Romi.
She was quiet for a moment. "Yah," she said, "me too."
Romi explained what Captain had said about each of them having a nemesis and how each of the horsemen had a necklace which should help in the spell making. They discussed the topic until it was exhausted and they were sufficiently terrified about it.
"But it'll take a while for them to get here, right?" Neville asked, as the sun started to reach late afternoon. None of them had felt like eating, and had spent the entire day on the side of the lake. "Like, we've got a couple months?"
"Maybe not," Ginny said. "If the False Prophet is already here, who's to say they haven't already made it to Britain? Or what if they started in Britain? We really have no way of telling."
"Yes, we do," Romi said, "well, not of telling where they are, but at least when they get here. Surely if they are all powerful horsemen and such, won't they be preceded by their magic."
"You expect illness to strike the school when Pestilence is close, you mean?" Luna asked.
"Yeah, and like, lack of food or something for Famine, lots of arguments for War," Romi continued.
"And what about Death?" Neville asked seriously.
"Hopefully he's last," Romi replied, evading the question. "Then we'll at least have tackled three horsemen before him."
Neville started to object when the doors to the Beauxbatons carriage opened a hundred yards from them. The four looked up, having completely forgotten where they were.
"The feast!" Ginny said. "I totally forgot about it!"
"Great," said Romi, getting to her feet and pulling Neville up. "More things to worry about."
Romi watched Hagrid meet up with Madame Maxime before going into the castle, followed by her students. Romi, Neville, Ginny and Luna followed them into the castle into the crowded Entrance Hall. The Goblet of Fire had been removed and everyone was milling about talking excitedly.
Neville led the way to the Great Hall, the girls following him. Romi was just making her way into the Great Hall, when a flash of colour, neither blue nor red, caught her eye. She turned and craned her neck, and caught a glance of someone she did not expect.
"Is that?" Romi started. Ginny paused beside her.
"Is what?" she asked.
"I just thought I saw." Romi paused and continued to look around. "I thought I saw that girl – you know – the one with the Daily Prophet."
"That's really specific," Ginny replied sarcastically, looking forward for Neville and Luna. They had lost them in the crowd. "Come on, let's go find Neville and Luna and get good seats before the entire school packs itself in early for dinner."
When they entered the candlelit Great hall it was almost full. The Goblet of Fire was now standing in front of Dumbledore's empty chair at the teachers' table.
Romi and Ginny found Neville alone at the Gryffindor Table, Luna having already gone to sit at the Ravenclaw table.
The Halloween feast seemed to take much longer than usual. Perhaps because it was their second feast in two days, Romi didn't seem to fancy the extravagantly prepared food as much as she would normally have done. Like everyone else in the Hall, judging by the constantly craning necks, impatient expressions on every face, the fidgeting and the standing up to see whether Dumbledore had finished eating yet, everyone simply wanted the plates to clear, and to hear who had been selected as champions.
Romi looked up to the Head Table often like most of the other students in the hall. About half way through her meal, she caught sight of two women sitting at the end of the Ravenclaw table, almost to themselves. The women with her back to Romi had bright blonde hair in tight curls and seemed to be talking animatedly with her hands.
The other women Romi recognized. She was young, in her early twenties with curly brown hair. Romi smacked Neville's arm beside her and nodded in the two women's direction.
"What is she doing here?" Romi asked.
"Who?" asked Neville, leaning closer to Romi in order to see who she was staring at. "Oh? That's Pheobe Capello –"
"That's Pheobe Capello?"
"Yeah – didn't you recognize her?" Neville said looking to her confused.
"I ran into her at the Quidditch World Cup," Romi said vaguely. "Literally." Ginny and Neville gave her a confused look. "I didn't know it was her…"
"She's probably here for the selection," answered Neville.
"Why would we need to have a Seer for these selections?" Romi asked.
Neville shrugged. "She works with Rita Skeeter – the reporter – they must be doing a piece about the selection."
Romi made a face looking over at who she assumed was Rita Skeeter and Pheobe Capello. Pheobe Capello had a beautiful smile, and she seemed to be patiently listening to Rita Skeeter's conversation. Romi scowled.
"Why are you scowling?" Neville asked.
"I don't like her," answered Romi.
"No one likes Rita Skeeter."
"I meant, Pheobe Capello. I don't like her," Romi said.
"Have you ever met her?" Ginny asked. "I'm sure she's a very nice person."
"Hmm," was all Romi replied.
At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state; there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Great Hall, which died away almost instantly as Dumbledore got to his feet. On either side of him, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Ludo Bagman was beaming and winking at various students. Mr Crouch, however, looked quite uninterested almost bored.
Romi was feeling extremely anxious, but that might have been more to do with the information she had discovered this afternoon, rather than the selection of the Champions.
"Well, the Goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them to please come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber," he indicated the door behind the staff table, "where they will be receiving their first instructions."
He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them all into a state of semi-darkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting. A few people kept checking their watches.
"Any second," Lee Jordan whispered, three seats away from Romi.
She wasn't able to really concentrate on the Goblet, images of fiery horseman kept appearing in her mind as she looked at the Goblet and butterflies started zooming around her stomach.
The flames inside the Goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it – the whole room gasped.
Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames which had turned back to blue white.
"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."
"No surprises there!" yelled Ron, two seats away from Romi, as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Romi saw Viktor Krum rise from the Slytherin table, and slouch up towards Dumbledore; he turned right, walked along the staff table, and disappeared through the door into the next chamber.
"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"
The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused again on the Goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.
"The Champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"
The girl who so resembled a Veela got gracefully to her feet, shook back her sheet of silvery blonde hair and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.
"Oh, look, they're all disappointed," Hermione said over the noise, nodding towards the remainder of the Beauxbatons party. 'Disappointed' was a bit of an understatement, Romi thought. Two of the girls who had not been selected had dissolved into tears, and were sobbing with their heads on their arms.
When Fleur Delacour, too, had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement you could almost taste it. The Hogwarts champion would be next.
And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tips Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.
"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Cedric Diggory!"
"No!" shouted Ron loudly, but nobody heard him except Harry and Romi; the uproar from the next table was too great. Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly, and headed off towards the chamber behind the teacher's table. Romi couldn't help but smile and applaud too. It was high time that Hufflepuff got a little glory.
Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again. By this time, Romi, understanding that there were only three champions to be picked, had spiralled off into dark thoughts about unknown horsemen travelling closer, and what could be possibly know that would be any help to them.
She drowned out Dumbledore's next words, when suddenly he stopped speaking.
Neville grabbed Romi arm, and she looked up to him confused.
"What?" she whispered, concerned because of the completely pale and frightened expression on his face. Neville nodded to the front again. Romi looked up just in time to see the Goblet of Fire sending out a fourth tongue of bright red fire, and a tattered piece of parchment fell out of it.
Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore.
Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out into the stillness.
"Harry Potter."