Magic? || Years 1-5

The Goblet Of Fire: Year 4

Waiting in the cold was not how Amisty expected to be spending this afternoon.

She envisioned the two schools arriving a few minutes after they had lined up, letting them to go inside the warm castle and exchange words and talk about the differences between their schools.

She had wanted to make a few new friends and learn things about other witches and wizards elsewhere in Europe.

But no, she was stuck in the cold. And the dark. Staring at the empty sky.

Not at all enjoyable.

Until there was a faint rumbling noise, accompanied by a strange sucking sound. It was coming from the lake.

She nudged Ron with her elbow, knowing if she spoke aloud the others wouldn't understand how she could hear it, tilting her head toward the water.

He nodded discreetly, waiting a few minutes as he listened intently before speaking.

"Can you hear something?" He asked.

Everyone was listening now. The strange sounds were slowly becoming louder.

"The lake! Look at the lake!" Lee Jordan shouted, pointing down at the water.

What had once been smooth was now bubbling, waves splashing against the banks as a whirlpool formed in the center of the water.

A dark pole rose out of the whirlpool slowly.

"It's a mast!" Harry exclaimed.

He was right.

Amisty watched with wide, awed eyes as a massive ship emerged, the water dripping down the sides reflecting the silvery moonlight in an almost ghostly way.

The portholes only supplied a sparse amount of misty light, very reminiscent of the Hogwarts ghosts' eyes, and it slowly glided toward the bank of the lake.

There was a loud splash as an anchor was thrown down, and then a plank was lowered to provide a walkway for the new arrivals. As people began to disembark, Amisty peered through the darkness at the silhouettes.

They seemed to be very similar to Crabbe and Goyle, never a good thing, but as they drew closer, she realized that it wasn't their shoulders she was seeing, it was the thick, dark, matted fur capes drawn over their shoulders.

She hoped that the fur wasn't wolf fur. That wouldn't be very pleasant to have to see.

At least they seemed more prepared to face the cold than the Beauxbatons students. The man in the front of the group had different fur, silver and shiny and sleek.

"Dumbledore! How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?" He called as he walked toward them.

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied brightly.

As Karkaroff came into the light, Amisty felt a faint surge of distrust.

He was tall and thin, white hair on his head and curling into a short goatee at his chin. When he shook Professor Dumbledore's hand he used both.

"Dear old Hogwarts. How good it is to be here, how good..." He smiled up at the castle, but the warm gesture did not help Amisty with liking him.

His teeth were stained yellow, and his eyes were cold and cruel.

"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..."

He beckoned behind him, and a student came forward and into the light.