Names have been made up for the sake of actually giving some of these people names. I feel like Ron would have paid a little more attention to names.

Chapter 93: The Goblet Of Fire

I don't believe it! Krum, Harry! Viktor Krum!" I said, hopping up and down like some giddy firstie, but I seriously couldn't help it

"For heaven's sake, Ron, he's only a Quidditch player," said Hermione.

"Only a Quidditch player? ONLY A QUIDDITCH PLAYER?!" I exclaimed. She must have lost her precious mind! "Hermione, he's one of the best Seekers in the world! I had no idea he was still at school!"

As they recrossed the entrance hall with the rest of the Hogwarts students heading for the Great Hall, Lee Jordan jumped 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?"

"Really," Hermione scoffed as we passed the girls, now squabbling over the lipstick.

"I'm getting his autograph if I can," I said enthusiastically. "You haven't got a quill, have you, Harry?"

"Nope, they're upstairs in my bag," said Harry, disappointedly.

We walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat down. I sat on the side facing the doorway, because Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students were still gathered around it, apparently unsure about where they should sit. The students from Beauxbatons had chosen seats at the Ravenclaw table. They were looking around the Great Hall with glum expressions on their faces. I could already tell that I probably wouldn't get along with those snobs.

"It's not that cold," said Hermione defensively. "Why didn't they bring cloaks?"

"Over here! Come and sit over here!" I hissed, pushing Hermione down the bench to make space. "Over here! Hermione, budge up, make a space -"

"What?"

"Too late." I said bitterly.

Viktor Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students had settled themselves at the Slytherin table. Ferret Boy, Humpback, and Beluga looked as if they had won the lottery. I sneered at Malfoy as he bent forward to speak to Krum.

"Yeah, that's right, smarm up to him, Malfoy." I huffed. "I bet Krum can see right through him, though. Bet he gets people fawning over him all the time. Where d'you reckon they're going to sleep? We could offer him a space in our dormitory, Harry...I wouldn't mind giving him my bed, I could kip on a camp bed."

Hermione snorted. "Oh Ron, honestly. You sound like an obsessed fan!"

"They look a lot happier than the Beauxbatons lot." said Harry. The Durmstrang students were pulling off their heavy furs and looking up at the starry black ceiling with expressions of interest; a couple of them were picking up the golden plates and goblets and examining them, apparently impressed.

Up at the staff table, Filch, the caretaker, was adding chairs. He was wearing his moldy old tailcoat in honor of the occasion.

"But there are only two extra people." I thought I heard Harry say. "Why's Filch putting out four chairs, who else is coming?"

"Eh?" I answered, eyes still on Krum.

"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 unmistakably a derisive laugh.

"No one's making you stay!" Hermione whispered, sneering at her.

"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 Karkaroff leaned forward at once and engaged him in conversation.

The plates in front of us filled with food as usual. The house-elves in the kitchen seemed to have pulled out all the stops; there was a greater variety of dishes in front of them than I had ever seen, including several that were definitely foreign.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing at a large dish of some sort of shellfish stew that stood beside a large steak-and-kidney pudding.

"Bouillabaisse," said Hermione.

"Bless you." I said, thinking she had just sneezed..

"It's French," said Hermione, laughing, "I had it on holiday summer before last. It's very nice."

"I'll take your word for it." I said, helping myself to black pudding. I did not feel like taking any risks tonight. Didn't want to eat any nasty shit and embarrass myself in front of Krum.

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 colored 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 us with a very heavily bandaged hand.

"Skrewts doing all right, Hagrid?" Harry called.

"Thrivin'," Hagrid called back happily.

"Yeah, I'll just bet they are," I whispered. "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.

I suddenly felt as if I had been socked in the face. I stared up at her, opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out except a faint gurgling noise, as I sounded like a complete asshole

"Yeah, have it," said Harry, pushing the dish toward the girl.

"You 'ave finished wiz it?"

"Yeah," I said breathlessly. "Yeah, it was excellent."

The girl picked up the dish and carried it carefully off to the Ravenclaw table. She was literally the most gorgeous thing I had ever seen. I felt as if she were to ask me to die for her, I would. Somewhat like I felt at the World Cup. Harry started to laugh, snapping me out of my trance.

"She's a veela!" I said hoarsely to Harry.

"Of course she isn't!" said Hermione furiously. "I don't see anyone else gaping at her like an idiot!"

But she wasn't entirely right about that. As the girl crossed the Hall, many boys' heads turned, and some of them seemed to have become temporarily speechless,

"I'm telling you, that's not a normal girl!" I said as I leaned sideways to watch her wonderful hips sway. "They don't make them like that at Hogwarts!"

"They make them okay at Hogwarts," said Harry.

"When you've both put your eyes back in," said Hermione briskly, "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, didn't they?" said Hermione. "I suppose they wanted to be here to see it start."

I really didn't care. My mind was totally focused on the veela girl. When the second course arrived they noticed a number of unfamiliar desserts too. I examined this paste looking shit closely, then moved it carefully a few inches to my right, just in case the veela wanted some. However, much to my disappointment, she did not come over to get it.

Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again. Excitement started to fill the atmosphere. Several seats down from us, Fred and George were leaning forward, staring at Dumbledore with great concentration.

"The moment has come," said Dumbledore, smiling. "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.

I shrugged, not knowing what the hell he was talking about

"- just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation" - 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 likable. Or more than likely both. He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand. Crouch didn't smile nor wave when his name was called. He just sat there looking as if he was above it all.

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts."

At the mention of the word "champions," the room grew even more quiet, all eyes locked on Dumbledore. "The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."

Filch 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 actually stood on his chair to see it properly, but, being so tiny, his head hardly rose above anyone else's. I decided to do him a favor and lift him up onto my neck so he could properly see, as I was amongst the tallest at the table, next to Fred, George, Dean, and some sixth and seventh years.

"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 that made it seem like nobody was 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 now 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 upon 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.

Fred, George, and Lee looked at each other.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon 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 wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

"An Age Line!" Fred said, as we all made our way across the Hall to the doors into the entrance hall. "Well, that should be fooled by an Aging Potion, shouldn't it? And once your name's in that goblet, you're laughing - it can't tell whether you're seventeen or not!"

"But I don't think anyone under seventeen will stand a chance," said Hermione, "we just haven't learned enough..."

"Speak for yourself," said George shortly. "You'll try and get in, won't you, Harry?"

Harry shrugged and shook his head at the same time.

"Where is he?" I said as I massaged my shoulder from Dennis sitting on it, and looking through the crowd to see where Krum was. "Dumbledore didn't say where the Durmstrang people are sleeping, did he?"

"Ronald!"

"Back to the ship, then," I heard Karkaroff say to his students, answering my question."Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?"

Krum shook his head as he pulled his furs back on.

"Professor, I vood like some vine," said one of the other Durmstrang boys hopefully.

"I wasn't offering it to you, Poliakoff," snapped Karkaroff. "I notice you have dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting boy!"

Karkaroff turned and led his students toward the doors, reaching them at exactly the same moment as the three of us, who stopped to let him walk through first.

"Thank you," said Karkaroff carelessly, glancing at Harry. Then, he did a double take back to Harry and stared at him as though he couldn't believe his eyes. His eyes moved slowly up Harry's face and fixed upon his scar. The Durmstrang students were staring curiously at Harry too. Poor mate looked like he felt like a goldfish.

"Yeah, that's Harry Potter," said a growling voice from behind them.

Professor Karkaroff spun around. Mad-Eye Moody was standing there, leaning heavily on his staff, his magical eye glaring unblinkingly at the Durmstrang headmaster.

The color drained from Karkaroff's face and was replaced with a terrible look of mingled fury and fear.

"You!" Karkaroff said, staring at Moody as if he were a ghost.

"Me," said Moody grimly. "And unless you've got anything to say to Potter, Karkaroff, you might want to move. You're blocking the doorway."

It was true; half the students in the Hall were now waiting behind them, looking over one another's shoulders to see what was causing the holdup.

Without another word, Professor Karkaroff swept his students away with him. Moody watched him until he was out of sight, his magical eye fixed upon his back, a look of intense dislike upon his mutilated face.

"Wonder what that was all about." said Harry as we continued to walk.

The next day, which was a Saturday, it seemed as if half the school was up earlier than usual, us included. When we went down into the entrance hall, about twenty people were already there, some of them eating toast, all examining the Goblet of Fire. It had been placed in the center of the hall on the stool that normally bore the Sorting Hat. A thin golden line had been traced on the floor, forming a circle ten feet around it in every direction.

"Anyone put their name in yet?" I asked Ginny's third year friend Deandra West eagerly.

"All the Durmstrang lot," she replied. "But I haven't seen anyone from Hogwarts yet."

"Bet some of them put it in last night after we'd all gone to bed," said Harry. "I would've if it had been me...wouldn't have wanted everyone watching. What if the goblet just gobbed you right back out again?"

Someone laughed behind Harry and I. Turning, we saw Fred, George, and Lee Jordan hurrying down the staircase, all three of them looking extremely excited.

"Done it," Fred said in a triumphant whisper to us three. "Just taken it."

"What?" I said.

"The Aging Potion, dung brains," said Fred.

"One drop each," said George, rubbing his hands together with glee. "We only need to be a few months older."

"We're going to split the thousand Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins," said Lee, grinning broadly.

"I'm not sure this is going to work, you know," said Hermione warningly. "I'm sure Dumbledore will have thought of this."

Fred, George, and Lee ignored her.

"Ready?" Fred said to the other two, quivering with excitement. "C'mon, then - I'll go first -"

I watched with great interest as Fred pulled a slip of parchment out of his pocket bearing the words Fred Weasley - Hogwarts. Fred walked right up to the edge of the line and stood there, rocking on his toes like a diver preparing for a fifty-foot drop. Then, with the eyes of every person in the entrance hall upon him, he took a great breath and stepped over the line.

For a split second I thought it had worked. George certainly thought so too, for he let out a yell of triumph and leapt after Fred. But the next moment, there was a loud sizzling sound, and both twins were hurled out of the golden circle as though they had been thrown by an invisible shot-putter. They landed painfully, ten feet away on the cold stone floor, and to add insult to injury, there was a loud popping noise, and both of them sprouted identical long white beards.

The entrance hall rang with laughter. Even Fred and George joined in, once they had gotten to their feet and taken a good look at each other's beards. Hermione rolled her eyes as if to say "I told you so."

"I did warn you," said a deep, amused voice, and everyone turned to see Professor Dumbledore coming out of the Great Hall. "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours."

Fred and George set off for the hospital wing, accompanied by Lee, who was howling with laughter.

"I should have gotten pictures." I said to Harry and Hermione as we went to breakfast. "Bill and Charlie would have loved to had seen that."

"They really will make handsome old men when they get older." Harry laughed.