LIGHT ME UP, ginny weasley.

↳ ooviii

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

       When all the students had entered the Hall and settled down at their House tables, the staff entered, filing 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, however, and did not resume their seats until Madame Maxime had sat down on Dumbledore's left-hand side. Dumbledore remained standing, and a silence fell over the Great Hall.

       "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and—most particularly—guests," Dumbledore said, 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."

       "The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," Dumbledore announced. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home."

       The plates 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 a greater variety of dishes in front of them than they had ever seen, including several that were definitely foreign.

       Effie's eyes brightened at the sight of a large dish of some sort of shellfish stew that stood beside a large steak-and-kidney pudding. "Bouillabaisse!"

       Blaise snorted, "Bless her."

       "It's French," Effie says with a roll of her eyes.

       "The sexiest language," Theo sighed dreamily, looking at some of the Beauxbatons girls. Millicent thumped him upside the head.

       "Anyways," Effie grinned, scooping some servings on her plate. "It's nice, it was one of my favorites, the last time I was in Paris."

       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 bloodred.

"What is this?" Pansy pointed a dish; a medley of beaten eggs with filo pasty—and hoped sincerely that Effie knows because it looked tasty.

"It's Banitsa, I think—yes, yes, it's Banitsa," Effie grinned. "Try it, it's good. And no, Daphne, it's actually a famous Bulgarian dish."

       "You should work with international liaisons," Draco commented, passing down a bowl of pudding. "Multi-lingual, multi-cultural. . . "

       Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again. A pleasant sort of tension seemed to fill the Hall now. Effie felt a slight thrill of excitement, wondering what was coming.

       "The moment has come," Dumbledore announced, 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—"