Hermione had apparently decided to take the opportunity to tell Hagrid about S.P.E.W. and ask him to join, because she ran to grab her badges.
"What is it with her?" said Ron, exasperated, as Hermione ran away up the marble staircase.
"Don't try to discourage her," I said. "If she's not really interested in this S.P.E.W. stuff she'll get tired of it soon. If she is... Well, let's just hope she calms down about it."
"I thought you were radical like her," Ron muttered.
"First off, she's not radical. Not really. Second, I think S. P. E. W. was originally a good idea, but I thought we'd be doing more than just shoving a box of badges in people's faces and lecturing them about elf rights."
"Like what?"
"Like petitioning to the Ministry. I don't know." I shrugged. "I think that the elves should do what they want. If they want paying, we should pay them. If they want sick leave, we should give it to them. But if they just want to work and they're honestly happy about it... well, we can't force them to accept payment."
"Hey, Ron," said Harry suddenly. "It's your friend..."
The students from Beauxbatons were coming through the front doors from the grounds, among them, the veela-girl. Those gathered around the Goblet of Fire stood back to let them pass, watching eagerly.
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 d'you reckon'll happen to the ones who aren't chosen?" Ron muttered to Harry and I as the veela-girl dropped her parchment into the Goblet of Fire. "Reckon they'll go back to school, or hang around to watch the tournament?"
"Dunno," said Harry. "Hang around, I suppose..."
"Madame Maxime's staying to judge," I said. "I don't get why they would send the rest of them back without their headmistress."
When all the Beauxbatons students had submitted their names, Madame Maxime led them back out of the hall and out onto the grounds again.
"Where are they sleeping, then?" said Ron, moving toward the front doors and staring after them.
A loud rattling noise behind them announced Hermione's reappearance with the box of S. P. E.W. badges.
"Oh good, hurry up," said Ron, and he jumped down the stone steps, keeping his eyes on the back of the veela-girl, who was now halfway across the lawn with Madame Maxime.
As we neared Hagrid's cabin on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the mystery of the Beauxbatons' sleeping quarters was solved. The gigantic powder-blue carriage in which they had arrived had been parked two hundred yards from Hagrid's front
door, and the students were climbing back inside it. The elephantine flying horses that had pulled the carriage were now grazing in a makeshift paddock alongside it. Harry knocked on Hagrid's door, and Fang's booming barks answered instantly.
"Bout time!" said Hagrid, when he'd flung open the door. "Thought you lot'd forgotten where I live!"
"We've been really busy, Hag —" Hermione started to say, but then she stopped dead, looking up at Hagrid, apparently lost for words. It took every bit of my being not to laugh.
Hagrid was wearing his best (and very horrible) hairy brown suit, plus a checked yellow-and-orange tie. This wasn't the worst of it, though; he had evidently tried to tame his hair, using large quantities of what appeared to be axle grease. It was now slicked down into two bunches — perhaps he had tried a ponytail like Bill's, but found he had too much hair. The look didn't really suit Hagrid at all. For a moment, Hermione goggled at him, then, obviously deciding not to comment, she said, "Erm — where are the skrewts?"
"Out by the pumpkin patch," said Hagrid happily. "They're get-tin' massive, mus' be nearly three foot long now. On'y trouble is, they've started killin' each other."
"Oh no, really?" I said, shooting a repressive look at Ron, who, staring at Hagrid's odd hairstyle, had just opened his mouth to say something about it.
"Yeah," said Hagrid sadly. "S' okay, though, I've got 'em in separate boxes now. Still got abou' twenty."
"Well, that's lucky," said Ron. Hagrid missed the sarcasm.
We sat down at the table while Hagrid started to make tea, and were soon immersed in yet more discussion of the Triwizard Tournament. Hagrid seemed quite as excited about it as we were.
"You wait," he said, grinning. "You jus' wait. Yer going ter see some stuff yeh've never seen before. Firs' task... ah, but I'm not supposed ter say."
"Go on, Hagrid!" Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I urged him, but he just shook his head, grinning.
"I don' want ter spoil it fer yeh," said Hagrid. "But it's gonna be spectacular, I'll tell yeh that. Them champions're going ter have their work cut out. Never thought I'd live ter see the Triwizard Tournament played again!"
We ended up having lunch with Hagrid, though we didn't eat much — Hagrid had made what he said was a beef casserole, but after Hermione unearthed a large talon in hers, we lost our appetites. However, we enjoyed ourselves trying to make Hagrid tell us what the tasks in the tournament were going to be, speculating which of the entrants were likely to be selected as champions, and wondering whether Fred and George were beardless yet.
A light rain had started to fall by midafternoon. It was very cozy sitting by the fire, listening to the gentle patter of the drops on the window. I probably could've fallen asleep, but I didn't want to risk any more visions.
While Hagrid darned his socks, he argued with Hermione about house-elves. He flatly refused to join S.P.E.W. when she showed him her badges.
"It'd be doin' 'em an unkindness, Hermione," he said gravely, threading a massive bone needle with thick yellow yarn. "It's in their nature ter look after humans, that's what they like, see? Yeh'd be makin' 'em unhappy ter take away their work, an' insutin' 'em if yeh tried ter pay 'em."
"But Harry set Dobby free, and he was over the moon about it!" said Hermione. "And we heard he's asking for wages now!"
"Yeah, well, yeh get weirdos in every breed. I'm not sayin' there isn't the odd elf who'd take freedom, but yeh'll never persuade most of 'em ter do it — no, nothin' doin', Hermione."
Hermione frowned and stuffed her box of badges back into her cloak pocket.
By half past five it was growing dark and it was time to get back up to the castle for the Halloween feast — and, more important, the announcement of the school champions.
"I'll come with yeh," said Hagrid, putting away his darning. "Jus' give us a sec."
Hagrid got up, went across to the chest of drawers beside his bed, and began searching for something inside it. I didn't pay too much attention until a truly horrible smell reached my nostrils.
Coughing, Ron said, "Hagrid, what's that?"
"Eh?" said Hagrid, turning around with a large bottle in his hand. "Don' yeh like it?"
"Is that aftershave?" said Hermione in a slightly choked voice.
"Er — eau de cologne," Hagrid muttered. He was blushing. "Maybe it's a bit much," he said gruffly. "I'll go take it off, hang on..."
He stumped out of the cabin, and they saw him washing himself vigorously in the water barrel outside the window.
"Eau de cologne?" I said in amazement. "Hagrid?"
"And what's with the hair and the suit?" said Harry in an undertone.
"Look!" said Ron suddenly, pointing out of the window. Hagrid had just straightened up and turned around. If he had been blushing before, it was nothing to what he was doing now. Getting to our feet very cautiously, so that Hagrid wouldn't spot them, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I peered through the window and saw that Madame Maxime and the Beauxbatons students had just emerged from their carriage, clearly about to set off for the feast too. I couldn't hear what Hagrid was saying, but he was talking to Madame Maxime with a rapt, misty-eyed expression I'd seen from my half-brother Dan back at camp when he was talking to that Aphrodite girl during archery practice.
"He's going up to the castle with her!" said Hermione indignantly. "I thought he was waiting for us!"
Without so much as a backward glance at his cabin, Hagrid was trudging off up the grounds with Madame Maxime, the Beauxbatons students following in their wake, jogging to keep up with their enormous strides.
"Rude," I muttered. "What are we, chopped liver?"
"That cologne definitely smelled like it," Ron snickered.
"That's mean, Ron!" I exclaimed, elbowing him. "And what's his deal with Madame Maxime?"
"He fancies her!" said Ron incredulously. "Well, if they end up having children, they'll be setting a world record — bet any baby of theirs would weigh about a ton."
"Ron," I scolded, elbowing him again.
We let ourselves out of the cabin and shut the door behind us. It was surprisingly dark outside. Drawing our cloaks more closely around ourselves, we set off up the sloping lawns.
"Ooh it's them, look!" Hermione whispered.
The Durmstrang party was walking up toward the castle from the lake. Viktor Krum was walking side by side with Karkaroff, and the other Durmstrang students were straggling along behind them. Ron watched Krum excitedly, but Krum did not look around as he reached the front doors a little ahead of Hermione, Ron, Harry, and I and proceeded through them.
When they entered the candlelit Great Hall it was almost full. The Goblet of Fire had been moved; it was now standing in front of Dumbledore's empty chair at the teachers' table. Fred and George — clean-shaven again — seemed to have taken their disappointment fairly well.
"Hope it's Angelina," said Fred as Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I sat down.
"So do I!" said Hermione breathlessly. "Well, we'll soon know!"
The Halloween feast seemed to take longer than usual. Everyone else in the Hall kept craning their necks, impatiently fidgeting, and standing up to see whether Dumbledore had finished eating yet. It seemed that everyone was ready to hear who had been selected as champions.
At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state. There was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the 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 random students. Mr. Crouch, however, looked quite uninterested, almost bored.
"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 please to 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. Immediately all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging us into a state of semidarkness. 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. We all watched, waiting. A few people kept checking their watches.
"Any second," Lee Jordan whispered, three seats away from me.
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. I gasped in wonder along with the whole room.
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 as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Harry saw Viktor Krum rise from the Slytherin table and slouch up toward 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!"
"It's her, Ron!" Harry shouted as 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 toward the remainder of the Beauxbatons party.
"Disappointed is a bit of an understatement," I replied. 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 was next.
And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.
"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Cedric Diggory!"
"No!" said Ron loudly, but the uproar from the next table was too loud for anyone to really hear him. 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 toward the chamber behind the teachers' table. Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again.
"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as the tumult died down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real —" But Dumbledore suddenly cut off, frowning.
At first I was confused, but when he turned to the goblet of fire, I saw what had distracted him. The fire in the goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, ejecting another piece of parchment.
Automatically, it seemed, 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. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out — "Harry Potter."
Green mist swirled around me, and the world went dark.
I know, I know, it's been forever, but I've been extremely busy with my spring classes, especially Chemistry (screw Chemistry). Hopefully I can get back in the groove and update more often.
Enjoy and comment for more!
~~~~Kingfisher~~~~