The teachers obviously didn't relax their teaching in class just because of the Triwizard Tournament. Every subject became more difficult, except for History of Magic, which had been as boring and repetitive as ever for years. Since the senior students told us that during Professor Moody's classes, he would talk about "really exciting stuff", everyone's enthusiasm for Defence Against the Dark Arts soared. Some people even waited eagerly outside the classroom right after dinner, hoping to grab a seat in the front row.

Professor Moody was indeed different from all the teachers we had ever met. Before taking this class, we could never have imagined that a teacher would demonstrate the Unforgivable Curses in front of us. The students who had eagerly rushed to the front row turned pale. At first, everyone let out a few laughs at the tap-dancing spiders, but soon the whole classroom fell into silence, as if the room was filled with screams that the spiders couldn't hear.

"Stop it - this is too cruel! Stop it!" Hermione, who was sitting next to me, shrieked. She looked at Longbottom, who was standing there with wide eyes and his knuckles white from gripping too tightly. "Why did you have to do this in front of Neville - when everyone here knows very well..."

"Quite right, Miss Granger. Everyone here knows that Longbottom's parents were tortured with the Cruciatus Curse by Death Eaters." To be honest, if the person standing in front of me wasn't a respected Auror whom my mother held in high regard, I would even have thought he was enjoying it for a moment. Maybe it was just an illusion caused by the small upward-slanting scar at the corner of his mouth.

"In my opinion, the first prerequisite for victory is - to face it." He thumped forward on his wooden leg and stopped in front of Longbottom, who seemed unable to move. "Boy, tell me the last Unforgivable Curse - the one that made you famous throughout the wizarding world. What is it?"

"Avada Kedavra," Longbottom replied in a low but clear voice.

"Yes, that's right." Moody's twisted mouth twitched into a terrifying smile. "The last one, the most powerful curse of all - countless wizards lost their lives because of it. There's no trace left, just a single instant."

There was only a blinding flash of green light, and the spider that he had just taken out of the bottle, which had been desperately trying to climb up his arm to escape, toppled over on the desk and died. The roar of Moody's incantation still echoed in our ears. We could hear nothing but our own heartbeats - oh, and the sound of Ron Weasley almost falling off his chair.

"I mean, it's just too cruel, isn't it?" Hermione said to me after class. "I admit that he taught us things that would never be in the textbooks, but Neville - "

"I actually think Moody has a point," Potter, who was walking ahead, thought for a moment and then turned back to say. "We can't just expect to know what the Killing Curse does when someone casts it on us in the future, can we? Think about what happened at the Quidditch World Cup. The darkness is never far away from us - the first prerequisite for victory is to understand, and he's right about that."

"Professor Moody clearly said it was about facing it," Hermione corrected him. "But Neville was terrified, wasn't he? I saw him, Neville!"

The thumping sound of wood hitting the floor came from behind us. Moody was walking towards us. Hermione looked a little uneasy, probably worried that Moody had heard what she said just now. But Moody passed us by and went straight to Longbottom, who was pale and clearly in a daze. He said to him in the softest voice I had ever heard him use, "Boy, shall we have a talk? Come on... we can have a cup of tea..."

We soon got used to Moody's teaching methods. Even when he proposed casting the Imperius Curse on each of us and asking us to resist with all our might, we only fell silent for a few seconds. At first, I thought that Hermione, who spent all her spare time in the library, was just busy with her own homework. It wasn't until she brought back a large box of S.P.E.W (Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare) badges and asked us to pay to join the society that I realized otherwise.

In the spirit of not harming our hard-won friendship, I paid two Sickles to show my support. However, Black and Hermione had a huge argument. It all started when he asked Hermione, "Is it also cruel to eat meat when it comes to treating life? Is there an essential difference between different lives? How do we define sentient beings? How can we judge the will of a creature? Isn't it also a form of discrimination to forcefully impose one's own values on a creature against its will?" And he firmly refused Potter's offer to pay two Sickles on his behalf to resolve the dispute.

"This isn't about two Sickles. Her logic isn't consistent at the moment, you know?" Black said impatiently as he loosened his tie and spread his hands out to Potter. His robe slipped casually down his arm. "I don't think I've been convinced. She put forward her views, and I have the right to object. You guys choose to pay her to shut up. Don't argue. Does anyone here actually think what she said makes sense? House-elves like to work! They were born to work! I think you're giving her the illusion that she can be dictatorial."

"I only know that if you don't put your clothes on properly, those girls over there will eat you alive," Potter pointed at the group of girls gathered by the fireplace. "I just don't want you two to quarrel."

"Why have you been avoiding Malfoy recently?" Hermione, who refused to be in the same common room as Black, whispered to me in the library. "I think you... seem to be suddenly very afraid of him. Did he do something bad to you? We can go and tell Professor McGonagall—"

"Er..." I didn't expect she would suddenly bring up Draco, and I almost spilled the ink bottle in front of me. "No, what could he do to me?"

"I thought so too. Although he's the worst person I've ever met, he's always been—" She frowned and crossed out a few words on her parchment. "I just find it a bit strange because you don't seem to be sleeping well recently, and I always feel that you're thinking about something."

"I thought you were completely focused on your, er, S.P.E.W," I said.

"You all think this is really funny, don't you?" She rubbed her eyes wearily and closed a thick, crumbling book. "To be honest, I can actually understand. You've all accepted this fact since you were born. Maybe it's because I'm a Muggle-born. I feel about this kind of thing... Iris, what's the fundamental difference between thinking that wizards are naturally superior to house-elves and have the right to exploit and enslave them, and believing that pure-blood wizards are noble by birth and that Muggle-born wizards should disappear?"

I opened my mouth but didn't know how to refute her. I felt like a fence-sitter. I thought what Black said made sense, and I couldn't seem to refute what Hermione said either. I was just glad that I had paid the two Sickles without hesitation, so now I didn't have to get involved in this dispute.

I've indeed been avoiding Draco recently. I don't know why exactly. When I see him, I just want to turn around and get as far away from him as possible. It's as if just seeing him can make me recall the warmth of his breath on my palm that day, and his fingers that got tangled in my hair - it really shouldn't be a big deal. When we were kids, our duels always ended up in fights. We'd pull each other's hair, with tears in our eyes and neither of us willing to back down. I even left a bite mark on his face once. But one night, I dreamed that his lips were pressed against my forehead - I almost sat up in bed immediately, feeling as if my heart was about to jump out of my throat to get some air.

So I decided to stay away from him for a while, at least until I got back to normal. He didn't come to talk to me either. Instead, he seemed to be in a really good mood. Almost every time I fled in a panic, I could hear him laughing. Fortunately, a major event soon came along to divert everyone's attention. Otherwise, I was determined to go and see Madam Pomfrey, hoping she could prescribe some medicine for me.

A brand-new big notice was posted at the foot of the marble staircase, notifying everyone that "The representatives of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will arrive at six o'clock in the evening on Friday, October 30th. The afternoon classes will end early."

"This is so cool! It's much closer than the O.W.L. exams, isn't it!" Dean Thomas, who had been seriously warned by Professor McGonagall in Transfiguration class, clapped his hands and said.

"And we'll miss one Potions class - ouch! Why did you step on my foot, Hermione! He won't be able to poison us now!" Ron Weasley exclaimed. "This is just great!"

"It's finally going to start, isn't it?" Everyone was excitedly discussing the Triwizard Tournament, as if they could never get tired of talking about it.

The school was changing every day. All those rusty armors were polished until they were as shiny as mirrors. Not to mention the ancient picture frames and the hanging chandeliers - I've passed by at least three portraits that were loudly protesting Filch's rough cleaning while touching their own faces. The teachers also seemed very nervous. Although the official stance of the Triwizard Tournament was to promote communication and common progress among the three schools, the competition seemed to have started even before the arrival of the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. We were required not to disgrace Hogwarts in any situation - this seemed to be the first time since I entered the school that the four houses temporarily set aside their competition with each other. But it turned out that this was indeed just a temporary illusion. The arguments about who would be the champions were no less intense than the speculations about how the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were different from us. People from each house were trying their best to hope that the champion would come from their own house, as if shouting louder could intimidate the judges. Even now, no one knew how the champions would be selected.

Hermione wasn't affected at all. She was still enthusiastically trying to persuade everyone to join her S.P.E.W, from the common room to the Great Hall. I even suspected that she had glued that piggy bank to herself. The fact that there were few responders didn't discourage her. Instead, it made her more determined to keep going.

The Weasley twins had been much quieter recently. The two of them often huddled together in the corner of the common room, whispering about something. It seemed that Hermione had also been rejected by them. She walked over angrily and sat down next to me. "They must be plotting how to deceive the judges. To be honest, it's impossible. Who could possibly deceive Dumbledore?"

On the day when the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were due to arrive, the whole of Hogwarts felt like it was already on holiday. No one was willing to listen in class. Even though my father walked around glumly between everyone's cauldrons, he couldn't suppress the excitement of all the students who were whispering to each other. Brown and Patil even secretly hid under the table to put on makeup. Unfortunately, when lining up, Professor McGonagall sternly asked Patil to take off the huge fluttering butterfly headdress on her head.

"Why is there still no sign of them?" The waiting made everyone's excitement gradually turn into restlessness. "It's already dark..."

When Dumbledore announced that the representatives of Beauxbatons had arrived, with everyone's chattering and guidance, we finally saw a huge object in the sky above the Forbidden Forest - a huge and magnificent carriage approaching us, as if it had no intention of slowing down at all. The loud noise when the carriage landed startled many junior students. They seemed to be afraid that the horses, which were almost as big as elephants, would step on them, and they kept backing away. There was a brief commotion in the Hogwarts welcoming party. I was jabbed in the stomach by someone's elbow. When I stepped back to avoid it, I stepped on someone's foot.

"Sorry, sorry." I mumbled incoherently. The heads of the four houses were trying to maintain order at the front, attempting to get the chaotic line back in order. It was clearly not an easy task. Now everyone was on tiptoe, desperately trying to get a clear look at the students from Beauxbatons and their headmistress who were getting off the carriage - but soon we realized that we didn't need to stand on tiptoe to see Madame Maxime easily. She was simply a walking landmark.

When the lake began to churn with bigger and bigger splashes, everyone started to push forward desperately to get a better look. Some junior students shrieked and guessed that the students from Durmstrang were brought here by seahorses. But soon, everyone could see that it was a huge sailing ship gradually rising from the water.

"Ouch - you've stepped on my foot three times today, Iris." Draco reached out and pulled me to stand beside him. "Don't run. With so many people around, where could you go? I won't let you step on my foot a fourth time - ouch!"

I slipped through the crowd like a little fish and squeezed my way to Hermione's side. Then I turned back and made a face at him triumphantly, feeling relieved that I seemed to be getting back to normal.

The ship was truly magnificent, but compared with the gorgeous carriage of Beauxbatons, it seemed more appropriate to describe it as eerie, eerie and mysterious. As the planks were laid on the shore, we gradually saw the students from Durmstrang. They all looked big and strong, as if they could fight a bear with their bare hands. The headmaster at the front kept one hand on the shoulder of a boy, looking as if he cared for him very much.

"Krum..."

"Merlin's beard - Krum, Viktor Krum! Is that him? I'm not seeing things, am I!"

It was hard to say whether the boys or the girls were more excited. Almost everyone who was lining up behind the Durmstrang students to go back to the Great Hall had forgotten what they were here for. The girls were frantically rummaging through their pockets for autographs, the boys were jumping up and down to get a better look at Krum's tall back, and Patil was pouting and complaining that she hadn't been able to wear that bow. ("Otherwise, he might have noticed me at first sight!")

"This is just ridiculous." Hermione raised her head haughtily. "He's just a Quidditch player."

"Just? He's one of the best Seekers in the world!" Ron Weasley turned to ask Harry if he had brought a quill, and then turned back to stare at her in disbelief. "I never thought he was still a student. Do you think he'll sit with us later?"

He looked disappointed as the Durmstrang students sat down at the Slytherin table. Draco leaned forward triumphantly and started talking to Krum, and even shook hands with him.

"Hah! He's already sucking up!" Ron said sarcastically, as if he had forgotten how eagerly he had just asked Harry to make room for someone. "Krum must have seen plenty of those sycophants who flatter him. I bet Krum can hardly understand what Malfoy is saying. His English isn't that good."

"Actually, Draco should be able to have a conversation with him," I said, staring with great interest at the students from Beauxbatons sitting at the Ravenclaw table. They were wearing tight silk robes and didn't seem to want to take them off even after entering the Great Hall. I casually replied to Ron, "His father once thought about sending him to study at Durmstrang."

"Oh, I forgot that you know Malfoy all too well," Ron said angrily, still staring intently at Krum. "It would have been great if he had gone to Durmstrang. How much more peaceful it would have been for us. So why didn't he go?"

"His mother couldn't bear to let him go. She thought it was too far away," I shrugged and watched as Dumbledore stood up to shake hands with the other two headmasters.

Today's dinner was several times more sumptuous than the previous festive feasts. There were many dishes we had never seen before. Hermione, who had been to France, introduced us to some French dishes. They tasted a bit strange but weren't bad. A beautiful girl with hair like a silvery waterfall came over to take away a plate of bouillabaisse. The boys along the way seemed to have lost all their language ability, just staring stupidly at her face, which was so beautiful that it seemed to be bathed in the soft light of the moon.

"That's - that's a Veela!" Ron said in a hoarse voice. "My goodness, there's never been anyone like that at Hogwarts!"

"She is quite pretty, but is it really that exaggerated?" Black said as he slowly twirled the spaghetti with meat sauce in front of him with a fork. "Harry must think she's not as good-looking as a certain girl at our table."

Harry poked Black and then quickly picked up a glass of drink and took a few sips. I looked intently at the pudding in front of me and pretended I hadn't heard anything.

"Ludo Bagman and Crouch are here." I looked at the two additional people at the teachers' table and suddenly remembered what my mother had said before the start of the term, "I'll also come to Hogwarts soon this term." I felt extremely excited. Could it be that my mother was here too? But after looking around for a long time, I still couldn't see my mother's figure in the Great Hall. I could only look dejectedly at the empty plate in front of me.

Finally, Dumbledore stood up with a smile under everyone's attentive gaze.

"This moment has finally arrived," he said. "I need to explain a few things first before bringing in the box - "