They watched as the guests settled in.
"They look a lot happier than the Beauxbatons lot," said Harry looking at the Durmstrang students.
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 mouldy old tailcoat in honour 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.
"That's what you call respect," Adelaide whispered.
"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, bristling 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!"
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.
"What's that?" said Ron, 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," said Ron.
Adelaide and Harry chuckled.
"It's French," said Hermione, "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.
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 Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Adelaide 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," 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?"
Adelaide tried hard not to fan-girl. It was Fleur Delacour. 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.
"Non, tu peux le prendre," said Adelaide, pushing the dish towards Fleur, much to the shock of her friends. (No, you can take it)
(Not the shock that she gave her the bouillabaisse, but that she could speak French,
Honestly, you guys!)
"Tu parles français?" she asked apparently interested.
(You speak French?)
"Oui, ma mère était française." Adelaide replied, she was honestly enjoying it .
(Yes, my mother was French) '
In my past life' she didn't add.
"Moi-même Fleur Delacour, au plaisir de vous rencontrer"
( Myself Fleur Delacour, pleasure to meet you)
"Adélaïde Gracia, c'était aussi un plaisir de vous rencontrer"
( Adelaide Gracia, it nice meeting you too)
"J'aurais aimé continuer notre conversation, mais mes amis attendent la bouillabaisse, retrouvons-nous"
(I would have loved to continue our conversation, but my friends are waiting for the bouillabaisse, hopefully we meet again)
"Avec un peu de chance!"
(Hopefully!)
(Don't attack me if the French is wrong, I don't know a single French word. I used Google Translate)
She 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. Adelaide and Harry started to laugh. The sound seemed to jog Ron back to his senses.
Ron looked at her "You can speak French,"
"Fluent French!" added Hermione.
"Yeah, I can also speak Latin, Bulgarian, Russian, Hindi and Italian." She added.
"You never told us." Accused Hermione
"Well, you never asked," Adelaide sassed back.
Apparently Ron was back to the topic 'Fleur'
"She's a veela!" he said hoarsely to Harry.
"Of course she isn't!" said Hermione tartly. "I don't see anyone else gaping at her like an idiot!"
Well, she was wrong. Almost all the boys had their heads turned, watching her with a dazed expression as she crossed the hall.
"I'd say she's half veela," Adelaide said simply. "Maybe one by fourth, you know,"
"I'm telling you, that's not a normal girl!" said Ron, leaning sideways so 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 without thinking. He was looking at Cho Chang.
"Girls are not products you slugs," Adelaide scolded.
"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. Ludo Bagman was now sitting on Professor Karkaroff's other side, while Mr Crouch, 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."
"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.
Ron shrugged.
"— 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 applause.
"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."
"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.
Adelaide had an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach thinking about Cedric.
"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 and pulled out the Goblet of Fire.
"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,"
"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 Weasley said, his eyes glinting, as they all made their 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!"
"Dream on, Fred," Adelaide said.
"And why is that?" George asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"Dumbledore's drawing an age line," Adelaide said simply.
"Exactly! An aging potion would do the trick" Fred said happily.
"It won't work," Adelaide said in a sing-song voice.
"Oh, c'mon. An aging potion is an extremely easy solution," George said.
"It's Dumbledore you're up against. I don't see why you think you'll fool him so easily" Adelaide said matter of factly. "And especially something so pathetically dimwitted as an ageing potion,"
"Precisely, Ash," Fred said elated, as he put a hand around her shoulder. "It will work because it is so pathetically dimwitted,"
Adelaide sighed and shook her head.
"I would ask you to place a bet, but since your previous experience was bitter.." she trailed off with a shrug.
Fred and George again stared at her with suspicious frowns, but Adelaide was too busy listening to Hermione.
"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?"
"Where is he?" said Ron, who wasn't listening to a word of this conversation, but looking through the crowd to see what had become of Krum.
"Dumbledore didn't say where the Durmstrang people are sleeping, did he?"
But this query was answered almost instantly; they were level with the Slytherin table now, and Karkaroff had just bustled up to his students.
"Back to the ship, then," he was saying. "Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?"
"Professor, I vood like some vine," said one of the other Durmstrang boys hopefully.
"I wasn't offering it to you, Poliakoff," snapped Karkaroff, his warmly paternal air vanishing in an instant. "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, and to the ship.
"Adele!" a voice called. Ignoring Hermione mouthing Adele, and Harry's and Ron's smug looks, Adelaide turned to find Cedric making his way towards her.
"I'll meet you guys at the common room," Adelaide said to the others and left, but not before she heard, Fred and George exclaim, "They are dating?!"
"No," Hermione said grinning.
"At least not yet," Harry said.
"Oh. Many girls are going to be disappointed," Fred said shaking his head.
"And many blokes," George added.
"How long do you reckon Diggory will take to ask Adelaide out?" Ron said.
"Hey" Cedric gasped. "I was trying to get to you, but the crowd was..."
"I get it," Adelaide said waving her arm, in a way telling that she didn't mind.
"Right. Um...I am going to enter." Cedric said
"Yeah, I heard Ernie Macmillian saying it,"
"Oh... Well, I wanted to let you know" Cedric said.
" I hope you get chosen. And if you do, be careful. And, please, stay safe "
Cedric chuckled. "I will," he said.
"Um, Do you really want to- you know- join?" she said tentatively, looking at her feet.
"Yeah," Cedric nodded solemnly.
"Alright, then," Adelaide sighed. "You best be very careful, Ced. And don't go get yourself killed, please, for me. Good luck. .And in my opinion, I do think you'll be chosen as the Champion. You have what it takes. Goodnight,"
"Thanks, Adele. Goodnight. And I hope you have a good sleep tonight," he said smiling warmly. "Can't have you being a zombie in the morning, can we?"
Adelaide smiled back at him.
"Oh, and I've been meaning to tell you. I did some reading, and I found Zombies do exist, but they are mostly based on the United States of America," she said.
Then she made her way to the Gryffindor tower, turning back to wave at Cedric, who waved back at her, his ears slightly red.
Adelaide repeated the conversation in her head
don't go get yourself killed, please, for me
please, for me
for me
FOR ME
Adelaide buried her face in her hands, she now understood why Cedric was blushing.
Ughhhh, she just had to spout nonsense
Who says things like that,
She continued on her way to the common room, wallowing in embarrassment.
"What did Cedric want? Did he ask you out?" Hermione said excitedly as she entered the girls' dorm.
"What are you talking about? He told me he was entering. That's it" Adelaide said, dismissively.
"Right," Hermione said disbelievingly, as she pinned her S.P.E.W. badge onto her nightgown.
Adelaide heard her mutter something along the lines of "so oblivious".
Adelaide felt her face heating up as she thought about what she said to Cedric, as she went to bed.