"Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!" Dumbledore shouts, from his spot beside the other teachers, behind the entire student body.
I go on my tippy-toes to see over everyone's heads. Oliver looks down and laughs, so I just elbow him playfully.
"I don't see anything," Fred frowns,
"There!" I shout, pointing over the forest.
Everyone turns to look and instantly breaks into chatter. Whatever it is, it grows larger and larger by the moment.
"What in the world...?" Oliver mutters, squinting to try and figure it out. It looks like, a flying house, or something along the lines of that. It was huge!
As it gets closer, flying above the Forbidden Forest, I can see a horse-drawn carriage, pulled by at least a dozen flying horses. The 'carriage' is larger than a house, and the horses are larger than elephants.
Those standing in the front, take a few steps back, leaving more room for the horses to land. I look to Oliver with excitement. He smiles and steps in closer to me.
The carriage lands with a loud crash, causing a few students to jump back, nearly causing fights to break out. Everyone is fighting to be able to see. Students are pushing, and shoving to be able to be visible. I get shoved roughly, but luckily, Oliver catches me before I fall to the ground,
"Hey, watch it!" He yells at a few Hufflepuff first years. They stare at Oliver in fear and retreat back towards the rear of the group.
"Thanks," I smile, and settle in closer to Oliver. He doesn't take his hands from my sides. I try to refrain from smiling like an idiot.
The rather fancy doors open and a boy dressed in all blue jumps down to set up a pair of golden steps. He jumps back into the carriage, quickly. Then, out of the carriage, comes, who must be the headmistress.
"Bloody hell!" George hisses to us,
I look up to see the largest woman I've ever laid eyes on, coming out of the carriage. She stands probably the same height as Hagrid, who towers over everyone in the school. That probably explains the size of the carriage.
But, surprisingly, she isn't hideous. Despite the gasps that ring out from the student body, she isn't frightening looking. If she were a few feet shorter, she might even be pretty. She has large, dark eyes that seem so wise. Her hair is pulled back into a low, professional-looking bun. She dresses so regally, I feel silly even standing before her in my pathetic robes and uniform. Now I see all the fuss from the teachers.
Dumbledore starts applauding, and the rest of us follow suit. Her uptight features relax slightly as she approaches Dumbledore and the rest of the teachers.
"My dear Madame Maxime, Welcome to Hogwarts," Dumbledore takes the woman's hand and kisses it. He doesn't even have to bend to kiss it, it's right at eye-level.
"Dumbly-dorr, I 'ope I find you well," She says, in a deep, rich french accent. The more I look at her, the more I feel as if I'm watching royalty.
"In excellent form, I thank you," Dumbledore smiles, speaking as if they're old friends.
"My pupils," Madame Maxime says, waving one of her hands behind her, nearly knocking a group of Ravenclaws to the ground. I stifle laughter.
Everyone was distracted by the large headmistress that they hadn't notice the small student body forming behind her. A group of students, all around my age, stand shivering. They all wear robes made of fine, blue silk. So, it's no surprise that they look as if they're caught in a snowstorm.
"Oh, this is going to be fun," Fred wriggles his eyebrows at George and Oliver. They both laugh loudly, but I feel jealousy growing in my chest. I watch the girls with envy. They all have perfectly-placed hair, dainty features, and thin bodies. None of them have freckles splattering their faces. None of them have fire-red hair that makes them stick out like a sore thumb. I cross my arms across my chest, self-consciously.
They all look at Hogwarts with doubt on their faces. If they don't like it, they can go back to France, no one's forcing them to be here. Ugh, they remind me exactly of my snooty cousins.
" 'As Karkaroff arrived yet?" Madame Maxime speaks up again,
"He should be here any moment. Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?" Dumbledore offers.
Madame Maxime looks at her group of freezing students,
"Warm up, I think... But, ze 'orses-" She says, frowning.
"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them, the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other -er -charges," Dumbledore explains, speaking of the absent Hagrid.
"My steeds require - er - forceful 'andling," Madame Maxime says, doubting that Hagrid could handle her precious horses. These Beauxbatons become more and more undesirable by the minute. "Zey are very strong..." She adds.
"I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job," Dumbledore smiles, not taking her comment to heart.
"Very well," She nods, bowing slightly, "Well you please inform zis 'Agrid zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whiskey?" She requests.
"How high maintanced are these people?" I mutter to Oliver, frowning. He just smiles slightly.
"It will be attended to," Dumbledore says, bowing as well.
"Come," Madame Maxime says to her small group of students.
We all part, so that the prissy students can get into the building. As they pass us, they look at most of the girls with snottiness. One girl looks at Oliver and smiles at him with a little wave of the hand. Fred and George start laughing, messing with his hair. But, he just blushes a scarlet red. I look at the girl and memorize her face. I don't think I'm going to like her very much...
The Beauxbatons disappear into the building and everyone breaks into chatter.
"How are any of them going to survive a minute in the Triwizard Tournament?" I ask, grumbling slightly.
"Who cares?" Fred laughs, joined by George and Oliver. But, I don't find their jokes amusing. "Oh, come on, Florence. They don't look that bad," He elbows me.
"Aren't you french?" Oliver asks me,
"Yeah, but you don't see me wearing a think silk robe when it's nearly November," I snap back.
"Too bad," George jokes.
My jaw drops and I blush profusely. I look over and see Oliver laughing as well, but he tries to cover it up.
"Hey, do you hear that?" Fred asks us.
They stop laughing and the people around us stop talking as well.
It's coming from the lake; a deep rumbling that sounds like a vacuum, sucking up everything.
"Look at the lake!" Lee Jordans shouts.
We all turn to look off of the front lawn, into the lake. I push Fred and George's tall shoulders down so I can see. I frown when I don't see anything moving in the lake. But then, small ripples start forming on the surface of the water. The ripples grow more and more violent, then the lake turns into a whirlpool, the water swirling around the lake.
"Is that..." Oliver trails off, but I finish his sentence for him,
"A ship?"
Slowly, we watch as a ship emerges from the lake. It has a rather grim feeling to it, as if they were just boating in the Underworld. It look haunted and, nearly deserted. Except, through the portholes, we see largely-built people walking around.
Such a different entrance than the Beauxbatons. I can see the contrast in it, as much as I can see the contrast in my parents. My mother, a Beauxbatons graduate, is never satisfied, and always turns her nose up at those below her. But, my father, a Durmstrang graduate, although he appears scary, he is much more warm than she.
We all watch in amazement as they anchor at the shore, and a few people bring out a plank to walk across, to get to shore.
As the students and teacher get into view, I notice that they aren't all largely-built, they are all just merely wearing large fur-coats; much more sensible for this time of year. The students coats look as if they were them all the time; they are matted and more rough-looking. Whereas the Headmaster's coat is sleek and shiny.
"Dumbledore!" The Headmaster calls out, happily, "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"
"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore answers, just as happily.
The two men, who look similar in their build; tall and thin, embrace in a firm two-handed handshake. As I stand almost directly beside the man, I notice that his features aren't as strong as Madame Maxime's. He has a faint chin, and weak facial features. That's surprising, coming from a Bulgarian.
"Dear old Hogwarts," Karkaroff smiles up at our school.
Is he not Bulgarian? That would explain his features. Did he possibly go to Hogwarts? He flashes his yellow teeth at Dumbledore and the rest of us. Unlike Madame Maxime, he seems honestly happy to be here. As he should be.
"How good it is to be here, how good... Viktor, come along, into the warmth... You don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold," Karkaroff beckons one of his students, standing amidst the crowd of students.
Instantly, I lose my breath.
From in the crowd of students, out walks Viktor Krum. The best seeker in the world. I stand up straighter, involuntarily.
He looks around, eyeing up the students. Girls giggle to each other immediately. I try and play it cool, though I feel as if I should be giggling along with them.
As he walks beside Karkaroff and Dumbledore, to enter the building, he passes by me. He meets my eyes and winks at me. I flash him a smile before looking away, playing the mysterious card.
But, on the inside, I could faint.
"Did you see that? Viktor Krum, The Viktor Krum just winked at her," Fred complains, "I wish Viktor Krum would wink at me," He grumbles.
I look over to Oliver and he was frowning, but quickly laughs at Fred's joke. I get a little bit of satisfaction from his jealousy.
We all file in behind the Durmstrang students, anxious to get into the Great Hall.
"Looks like someone worthy of your Quidditch skills has arrived," Someone says, behind me, as I make my way up the stairs.
I look over my shoulder to see Cedric Diggory smirking at me. I frown and turn around. Why does this boy irritate me so much?
"It appears so," I remark. He catches up to me, and walks beside me, as we enter to Great Hall.
"If you do convince him to play against you, please, do call me. I'd love to see that," He tells me, amusement written all over his face.
What, does he think I won't stand a chance against Krum? He seriously doubts my Quidditch skills then.
"Sure, but, be sure to bring a helmet next time," I send him a smirk before making my way to the Slytherin table. I hear him let out a laugh before he makes his way to the Hufflepuff table.
"Blimey! Can you believe it?" Fallon runs over to me and hisses in my ear. We take a seat at the table. The Durmstrangs stand by the door, unsure where to sit. I look over and lay eyes on Krum instantly. But, I look away before he catches me fawning over him.
"No, I still don't think it's hit me," I laugh, nearly shaking with excitement in my seat. I look down the table and meet eyes with Elliot. He raises his eyebrows and looks at me with just as much excitement.
"Oh, my lord. They're coming this way," Someone hisses.
Nearly everyone looks over their shoulder, to stare at the Durmstrang students, specifically Krum. But, I play it cool, and pretend not to care. Skye, from across the table lets out a small gasp.
"Is this spot occupied?" I hear behind me.
I turn around to look Viktor Krum, directly in the eyes. I nearly lose my train of thought, but I catch on, quickly.
"Nope," I shake my head, scooting closer to Fallon, to make room for him.
The Durmstrang students take open seats at our table. Viktor and a few of his friends sit near us. When one boy sits besides Skye, I thought her head was going to explode. I've never seen her face so red before.
"Viktor Krum, such a pleasure to meet you. I'm Draco Malfoy," Draco leans across the table, holding his hand out for Viktor.
Viktor shakes it, his hand much larger than Draco's, but he gives him a slight smile.
"Nice to meet you," He nods, but then turns to me, "And, your name?" He asks,
"Florence," I reply, giving him a small smile.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the Durmstrang students look around the Great Hall in interest. The celing that's lit up, occupies most of their attention. But, others look at our golden platters with interest as well.
"Florence, vot a beautiful name," He continues to stare at me, his thick Bulgarian accent shows through, reminding me so much of my father. "How old are you, Florence?" He asks, clearly interested.
I can feel people's eyes on me from all over. Girls from all houses glare at me, and even some guys stare at me with jealousy. But, I don't let it get to my head. He's famous; obviously he's popular with the ladies, so he's got to be charming.
"I'm 17," I answer, and he raises his eyebrows.
"You are 17? You are very, very small," He comments.
Skye and Fallon snort in laughter, and I just blush. That's embarrassing... He probably thought I was some first year, and he was just being nice to me.
He opens his mouth to ask me more questions, but he stops when the Headmasters and Headmistress come into the room.
From the Ravenclaw table, the Beauxbatons students jump up to their feet as they see Madame Maxime. I can't help but to laugh at them, along with everyone else. But, they don't shy away. They stay standing until Madame Maxime takes her seat.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and - most particularly - guests," Dumbledore beams, looking at the visiting students. I can't help but to smile as well. If there's one thing that the Tournament is going to bring, it's excitement.