Chapter 85 - 85. other schools (1/2)
The appearance of the sign in the entrance hall had a marked effect upon the inhabitants of the castle. During the following week, there seemed to be only one topic of conversation, no matter where they went: the Triwizard Tournament. Rumors were flying from student to student like highly contagious germs: who was going to try for Hogwarts champion, what the tournament would involve, how the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang differed from themselves.
They noticed too that the castle seemed to be undergoing an extra-thorough cleaning. Several grimy portraits had been scrubbed, much to the displeasure of their subjects, who sat huddled in their frames muttering darkly and wincing as they felt their raw pink faces. The suits of armor were suddenly gleaming and moving without squeaking, and Argus Filch, the caretaker, was behaving so ferociously to any students who forgot to wipe their shoes that he terrified a pair of first-year girls into hysterics. When they went down to breakfast on the morning of the thirtieth of October, they found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts House: red with a gold lion for Gryffiindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teachers' table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger, and snake united around a large letter H. ”You two got any ideas on the Triwizard Tournament yet?” Harry asked Fred and George. ”Thought any more about trying to enter?”
”I asked McGonagall how the champions are chosen but she wasn't telling,” said George bitterly. ”She just told me to shut up and get on with transfiguring my raccoon. ”
”Wonder what the tasks are going to be?” said Tonks thoughtfully. ”McGonagall says the champions get awarded points according to how well they've done the tasks. ”
”Who are the judges?” Harry asked.
”Well, the Heads of the participating schools are always on the panel,” said Hermione, and everyone looked around at her, rather surprised, ”because all three of them were injured during the Tournament of 1792, when a cockatrice the champions were supposed to be catching went on the rampage. ”
She noticed them all looking at her and said, with her usual air of impatience that nobody else had read all the books she had, ”It's all in Hogwarts, A History.
There was a pleasant feeling of anticipation in the air that day. Nobody was very attentive in lessons, being much more interested in the arrival that evening of the people from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang; even Potions was more bearable than usual, as it was half an hour shorter. When the bell rang early, Everyone hurried up to Gryffindor Tower, deposited their bags and books as they had been instructed, pulled on their cloaks, and rushed back downstairs into the entrance hall.
The Heads of Houses were ordering their students into lines.
”Weasley, straighten your hat,” Professor McGonagall snapped at Ron. ”Miss Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair. ”
Parvati scowled and removed a large ornamental butterfly from the end of her plait.
”Follow me, please,” said Professor McGonagall. ”First years in front. . . no pushing. . . . ”
They filed down the steps and lined up in front of the castle. It was a cold, clear evening; dusk was falling and a pale, transparent-looking moon was already shining over the Forbidden Forest. Ryan standing between Daphne and Luna in the fourth row from the front, could feel fluer getting closer and closer through the link her side was just singing in anticipation she had never seen him only heard his voice through mental link. And then Dumbledore called out from the back row where he stood with the other teachers –
”Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!”
”Where?” said many students eagerly, all looking in different directions.
”There!” yelled a sixth year, pointing over the forest.
Something large, much larger than a broomstick – or, indeed, a hundred broomsticks – was hurtling across the deep blue sky toward the castle, growing larger all the time.
”It's a dragon!” shrieked one of the first years, losing her head completely.
”Don't be stupid. . . it's a flying house!” said Dennis Creevey.