Chapter Seventeen

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"Attention! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!" Dumbledore calls out. I quickly crumple the letter up and shove it into the pocket of my robes. Everyone in the Great Hall directs their heads to the window.

A gigantic black shape skims over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest and the lights shining from the castles hit it, showing a large, blue horse-drawn carriage, soaring towards us. The carriage is pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses.

"Woah," I breathe in amazement.

A large woman, around Hagrid's size, exits the carriage first. The students murmur for a few moments before Dumbledore begins to applaud her— and the rest of the students follow suit.

"My dear Madam Maxine, welcome to Hogwarts," Dumbledore greets as he kisses the large woman's hand. She's dressed in black satin from head to toe.

"Dumbly-doer," She says in a deep voice, "I 'ope I find you well?" She asks, her french accent is extremely prominent.

"In excellent form, I thank you."

Dumbledore and Madam Maxine continue their conversation, but my eyes trail to the dozen students behind her. It's a mixture of boys and girls in their late teens, dawned in blue robes. A few of them had shawls or scarfs over their heads.

Madam Maxine leads the Beauxbatons students to the Ravenclaw table. The Slytherin table erupts in silent chatter. "I wonder how Durmstrang will enter," I whisper to Blair, who's finally stopped reading her book to pay attention to what's happening.

"The lake!" Lee Jordan yells from the Gryffindor table, standing up. He points toward the lake. "Look at the lake!"

Everyone's eyes turn to the lake. The normally smooth surface was transformed into a quick moving whirlpool. A large boat emerges from the water. I see silhouettes of people, but no individual faces can be observed.

Moments later, students arise from the ship and head towards us. At first I think they all are built like Crabbe and Goyle— until I see that they are wearing large, fur cloaks that make them appear larger.

A man with sleek silver hair steps forward. "Dumbledore! How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?" He inquires heartily.

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff."

Karkaroff beckons one of his students to step forward. I catch a glimpse of his prominent curved nose, thick eyebrows, and haircut.

"It's Krum!" I say to the Slytherin table.

"Who?" Pansy asks me with a bored expression.

"Viktor Krum, he's a Quidditch — nevermind," I start to tell her, but brush it off. She wouldn't care to listen anyway. I turn back around to focus on Krum and the other Durmstrang boys. Karkaroff is still in conversation with Dumbledore.

"He's one of the best Seekers in the world, I had no idea he was still in school," Zabini tells me.

I watch Krum as a lot of sixth year girls approach him and ask for an autograph. He looks quite bored when he does it, but doesn't reject the request.

Viktor Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students stand up and head towards us — the Slytherin table. Malfoy's eyes go wide with excitement. The Durmstrang boys have chosen to sit with us.

"Iz this seat taken?" Krum asks, gesturing between me and Pansy. There's a small gap between us but there isn't enough room for a person.

"No, not at all," Pansy says with a sickly sweet smile. She moves over to her right so far that she's nearly on top of Draco. I inch over to my left, so that I'm slightly closer to Blaise. Krum slides in and a few of his Durmstrang friends sit across from us.

"Excuse me, Pansy," Malfoy says, switching seats with her so that he is now next to Viktor. Pansy's smile immediately turns sour but she obliges.

"Krum, is it? My names Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. I'm quite a huge fan of you," He gushes like a schoolboy. It's odd to see Draco in a position of admiring someone since usually he is the one getting admired. A few of the Durmstrang boys talk to Daphne and Millicent while the rest of them look up at the starry black ceiling in awe.

"Zank you," Krum says in his heavy accent. He hesitates a second before turning to me. "And who iz you?" He asks me.

"I'm Amelia," I respond with a smile. "You did phenomenal at the World Cup, by the way," I add. A satisfied grin explodes on his face, while a glare appears on Draco's.

Krum opens his mouth to respond but Dumbledore interrupts. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and, most particularly, guests," He says, beaming 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. The tournament will officially be opened at the end of the feast, I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!" He announces.

The plates in front of us are filled with food as usual. The house elves must have worked extremely hard because there is a variety of foods. Several dishes are definitely foreign.

"What's that?" I ask, pointing at a large dish of pasta like food.

"Pelmeni," Krum informs me. "It's very nice, you should try some," He says, taking a spoonful of it himself. The rest of the Slytherins all quickly take a helping of Pelmeni as well.

Just then, I notice a blonde girl talking to Harry, Hermione, and Ron. Harry and Ron look to be speechless in front of the girl, and as she walks by other boys, they seem to be speechless as well.

"That's a Veela," Blair says to me, as if reading my mind. "It causes boys to temporarily become speechless at the sight of one, pretty much."

I dig my fork into the Pelmeni. "That's weird."

Dumbledore stands up from his seat. It is then that I notice Ludo Bagman and Mr. Crouch were also seated with the Professors. That's odd.

"The moment has come," Dumbledore says smiling. "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?" I repeat, dumbfounded. Zabini shrugs.

"But first, let me introduce for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of Department of International Magical Cooperation, and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of Department of Magical Games and Sports."

There was polite applause for Crouch, but Bagman receives quite more applause. Bagman is much more likable and was also a renowned Beater in Quidditch back in his day.

Dumbledore clears his throat. "There will be three tasks, spread throughout the school year. And there will be three champions, one from each participating school. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."

The students breath in amazement. Even talkative Draco is stunned in silence. Dumbledore taps his wand on the casket; he reaches inside and pulls out a large goblet with blue white flames.

"Aspiring champions have twenty four hours to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will reuter the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation, 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. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. Please be sure that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name in the goblet. Good night to you all," He says, stepping down.

The Great Hall erupts with excited chatter. Viktor Krum and a few other Durmstrang boys boast about how they will surely be entering.

I glance over to the Gryffindor table, where I see a familiar ginger staring at me with wide eyes.

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