The Goblet of Fire

by J. K. Rowling

  Once everyone else was settled in the Hall, Professor McGonagall told the champions and their partners to get in line in pairs, and follow her. They did so, and everyone in the Great Hall applauded as they entered and started walking up towards a large round table at the top of the Hall, where the judges were sitting.

  The walls of the Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The house tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people.

  Harry concentrated on not tripping over his feet. Parvati seemed to be enjoying herself; she was beaming around at everybody, steering Harry so forcefully that he felt as though he was a show dog she was putting through its paces. He caught sight of Ron and Padma as he neared the top table. Ron was watching Hermione pass with narrowed eyes. Padma was looking sulky.

  Dumbledore smiled happily as the champions approached the top table but Karkaroff wore an expression remarkably like Ron’s as he watched Krum and Hermione draw nearer. Ludo Bagman, tonight in robes of bright purple with large yellow stars, was clapping as enthusiastically as any of the students; and Madame Maxime, who had changed her usual uniform of black satin for a flowing gown of lavender silk, was applauding them politely. But Mr Crouch, Harry suddenly realised, was not there. The fifth seat at the table was occupied by Percy Weasley.

  When the champions and their partners reached the table, Percy drew out the empty chair beside him, staring pointedly at Harry. Harry took the hint and sat down next to Percy, who was wearing brand-new, navy-blue dress robes, and an expression of great smugness.

  ‘I’ve been promoted,’ Percy said, before Harry could even ask, and from his tone, he might have been announcing his election as Supreme Ruler of the Universe. ‘I’m now Mr Crouch’s personal assistant, and I’m here representing him.’

  ‘Why didn’t he come?’ Harry asked. He wasn’t looking forward to being lectured on cauldron bottoms all through dinner.

  ‘I’m afraid to say Mr Crouch isn’t well, not well at all. Hasn’t been right since the World Cup. Hardly surprising – overwork. He’s not as young as he was – though still quite brilliant, of course, the mind remains as great as it ever was. But the World Cup was a fiasco for the whole Ministry, and then Mr Crouch suffered a huge personal shock with the misbehaviour of that house-elf of his, Blinky or whatever she was called. Naturally, he dismissed her immediately afterwards, but – well, as I say, he’s getting on, he needs looking after, and I think he’s found a definite drop in his home comforts since she left. And then we had the Tournament to arrange, and the aftermath of the Cup to deal with – that revolting Skeeter woman buzzing around – no, poor man, he’s having a well-earned, quiet Christmas. I’m just glad he knew he had someone he could rely upon to take his place.’

  Harry wanted very much to ask whether Mr Crouch had stopped calling Percy ‘Weatherby’ yet, but resisted the temptation.

  There was no food as yet on the glittering golden plates, but small menus lying in front of each of them. Harry picked his up uncertainly, and looked around – there were no waiters. Dumbledore, however, looked carefully down his own menu, then said very clearly to his plate, ‘Pork chops!’

  And pork chops appeared. Getting the idea, the rest of the table placed their orders with their plates, too. Harry glanced up at Hermione to see how she felt about this new and more complicated method of dining – surely it meant plenty of extra work for the house-elves? – but, for once, Hermione didn’t seem to be thinking about S.P.E.W. She was deep in talk with Viktor Krum, and hardly seemed to notice what she was eating.

  It now occurred to Harry that he had never actually heard Krum speak before, but he was certainly talking now, and very enthusiastically at that.

  ‘Vell, ve have a castle also, not as big as this, nor as comfortable, I am thinking,’ he was telling Hermione. ‘Ve have just four floors, and the fires are lit only for magical purposes. But ve have grounds larger even than these – though in vinter, ve have very little daylight, so ve are not enjoying them. But in summer ve are flying every day, over the lakes and the mountains –’

  ‘Now, now, Viktor!’ said Karkaroff, with a laugh that didn’t reach his cold eyes. ‘Don’t go giving away anything else, now, or your charming friend will know exactly where to find us!’

  Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling. ‘Igor, all this secrecy … one would almost think you didn’t want visitors.’

  ‘Well, Dumbledore,’ said Karkaroff, displaying his yellowing teeth to their fullest extent, ‘we are all protective of our private domains, are we not? Do we not jealously guard the halls of learning that have been entrusted to us? Are we not right to be proud that we alone know our school’s secrets, and right to protect them?’

  ‘Oh, I would never dream of assuming I know all Hogwarts’ secrets, Igor,’ said Dumbledore amicably. ‘Only this morning, for instance, I took a wrong turning on the way to the bathroom and found myself in a beautifully proportioned room I have never seen before, containing a really rather magnificent collection of chamberpots. When I went back to investigate more closely, I discovered that the room had vanished. But I must keep an eye out for it. Possibly it is only accessible at five thirty in the morning. Or it may only appear at the quarter moon – or when the seeker has an exceptionally full bladder.’

  Harry snorted into his plate of goulash. Percy frowned, but Harry could have sworn Dumbledore had given him a very small wink.

  Meanwhile Fleur Delacour was criticising the Hogwarts decorations to Roger Davies.

  ‘Zis is nothing,’ she said dismissively, looking around at the sparkling walls of the Great Hall. ‘At ze Palace of Beauxbatons, we ’ave ice sculptures all around ze Dining Chamber at Chreestmas. Zey do not melt, of course … zey are like ’uge statues of diamond, glittering around ze place. And ze food is seemply superb. And we ’ave choirs of wood-nymphs, ’oo serenade us as we eat. We ’ave none of zis ugly armour in ze ’alls, and eef a poltergeist ever entaired into Beauxbatons, ’e would be expelled like zat.’ She slapped her hand onto the table impatiently.

  Roger Davies was watching her talk with a very dazed look on his face, and he kept missing his mouth with his fork. Harry had the impression that Davies was too busy staring at Fleur to take in a word she was saying.

  ‘Absolutely right,’ he said quickly, slapping his own hand down on the table in imitation of Fleur. ‘Like that. Yeah.’

  Harry looked around the Hall. Hagrid was sitting at one of the other staff tables; he was back in his horrible hairy brown suit, and gazing up at the top table. Harry saw him give a small wave and, looking around, saw Madame Maxime return it, her opals glittering in the candlelight.

  Hermione was now teaching Krum to say her name properly; he kept calling her ‘Hermy-own’.

  ‘Her – my – oh – nee,’ she said, slowly and clearly.

  ‘Herm – own – ninny.’

  ‘Close enough,’ she said, catching Harry’s eye and grinning.

  When all the food had been consumed, Dumbledore stood up and asked the students to do the same. Then, at a wave of his wand, the tables zoomed back along the walls, leaving the floor clear, and then he conjured a raised platform into existence along the right-hand wall. A set of drums, several guitars, a lute, a cello and some bagpipes were set upon it.

  The Weird Sisters now trooped up onto the stage to wildly enthusiastic applause; they were all extremely hairy, and dressed in black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn. They picked up their instruments, and Harry, who had been so interested in watching them that he had almost forgotten what was coming, suddenly realised that the lanterns on all the other tables had gone out, and that the other champions and their partners were standing up.

  ‘Come on!’ Parvati hissed. ‘We’re supposed to dance!’

  Harry tripped over his dress robes as he stood up. The Weird Sisters struck up a slow, mournful tune; Harry w
alked onto the brightly lit dance floor, carefully avoiding catching anyone’s eye (he could see Seamus and Dean waving at him and sniggering), and next moment, Parvati had seized his hands, placed one around her waist, and was holding the other tightly in hers.

  It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, Harry thought, revolving slowly on the spot (Parvati was steering). He kept his eyes fixed over the heads of the watching people, and very soon many of them, too, had come onto the dance floor, so that the champions were no longer the centre of attention. Neville and Ginny were dancing nearby – he could see Ginny wincing frequently as Neville trod on her feet – and Dumbledore was waltzing with Madame Maxime. He was so dwarfed by her that the top of his pointed hat barely tickled her chin; however, she moved very gracefully for a woman so large. Mad-Eye Moody was doing an extremely ungainly two-step with Professor Sinistra, who was nervously avoiding his wooden leg.

  ‘Nice socks, Potter,’ Moody growled as he passed, his magical eye staring through Harry’s robes.

  ‘Oh – yeah, Dobby the house-elf knitted them for me,’ said Harry, grinning.

  ‘He is so creepy!’ Parvati whispered, as Moody clunked away. ‘I don’t think that eye should be allowed!’

  Harry heard the final, quavering note from the bagpipe with relief. The Weird Sisters stopped playing, applause filled the Hall once more, and Harry let go of Parvati at once. ‘Let’s sit down, shall we?’

  ‘Oh – but – this is a really good one!’ Parvati said, as the Weird Sisters struck up a new song, which was much faster.

  ‘No, I don’t like it,’ Harry lied, and he led her away from the dance floor, past Fred and Angelina, who were dancing so exuberantly that people around them were backing away for fear of injury, and over to the table where Ron and Padma were sitting.

  ‘How’s it going?’ Harry asked Ron, sitting down and opening a bottle of Butterbeer.

  Ron didn’t answer. He was glaring at Hermione and Krum, who were dancing nearby. Padma was sitting with her arms and legs crossed, one foot jiggling in time to the music. Every now and then she threw a disgruntled look at Ron, who was completely ignoring her. Parvati sat down on Harry’s other side, crossed her arms and legs too, and within minutes, was asked to dance by a boy from Beauxbatons.

  ‘You don’t mind, do you, Harry?’ Parvati said.

  ‘What?’ said Harry, who was now watching Cho and Cedric.

  ‘Oh, never mind,’ snapped Parvati, and she went off with the boy from Beauxbatons. When the song ended, she did not return.

  Hermione came over and sat down in Parvati’s empty chair. She was a bit pink in the face from dancing.

  ‘Hi,’ said Harry. Ron didn’t say anything.

  ‘It’s hot, isn’t it?’ said Hermione, fanning herself with her hand. ‘Viktor’s just gone to get some drinks.’

  Ron gave her a withering look.

  ‘Viktor?’ he said. ‘Hasn’t he asked you to call him Vicky yet?’

  Hermione looked at him in surprise.

  ‘What’s up with you?’ she said.

  ‘If you don’t know,’ said Ron scathingly, ‘I’m not going to tell you.’

  Hermione stared at him, then at Harry, who shrugged. ‘Ron, what –?’

  ‘He’s from Durmstrang!’ spat Ron. ‘He’s competing against Harry! Against Hogwarts! You – you’re –’ Ron was obviously casting around for words strong enough to describe Hermione’s crime, ‘fraternising with the enemy, that’s what you’re doing!’

  Hermione’s mouth fell open.

  ‘Don’t be so stupid!’ she said after a moment. ‘The enemy! Honestly – who was the one who was all excited when they saw him arrive? Who was the one who wanted his autograph? Who’s got a model of him up in their dormitory?’

  Ron chose to ignore this. ‘I s’pose he asked you to come with him while you were both in the library?’

  ‘Yes, he did,’ said Hermione, the pink patches on her cheeks glowing more brightly. ‘So what?’

  ‘What happened – trying to get him to join spew, were you?’

  ‘No, I wasn’t! If you really want to know, he – he said he’d been coming up to the library every day to try and talk to me, but he hadn’t been able to pluck up the courage!’

  Hermione said this very quickly, and blushed so deeply that she was the same colour as Parvati’s robes.

  ‘Yeah, well – that’s his story,’ said Ron nastily.

  ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Obvious, isn’t it? He’s Karkaroff’s student, isn’t he? He knows who you hang around with … he’s just trying to get closer to Harry – get inside information on him – or get near enough to jinx him –’

  Hermione looked as though Ron had slapped her. When she spoke, her voice quivered. ‘For your information, he hasn’t asked me one single thing about Harry, not one –’

  Ron changed tack at the speed of light. ‘Then he’s hoping you’ll help him find out what his egg means! I suppose you’ve been putting your heads together during those cosy little library sessions –’

  ‘I’d never help him work out that egg!’ said Hermione, looking outraged. ‘Never. How could you say something like that – I want Harry to win the Tournament. Harry knows that, don’t you, Harry?’

  ‘You’ve got a funny way of showing it,’ sneered Ron.

  ‘This whole Tournament’s supposed to be about getting to know foreign wizards and making friends with them!’ said Hermione shrilly.

  ‘No, it isn’t!’ shouted Ron. ‘It’s about winning!’

  People were starting to stare at them.

  ‘Ron,’ said Harry quietly, ‘I haven’t got a problem with Hermione coming with Krum –’

  But Ron ignored Harry too.

  ‘Why don’t you go and find Vicky, he’ll be wondering where you are,’ said Ron.

  ‘Don’t call him Vicky!’ Hermione jumped to her feet, and stormed off across the dance floor, disappearing into the crowd.

  Ron watched her go with a mixture of anger and satisfaction on his face.

  ‘Are you going to ask me to dance at all?’ Padma asked him.

  ‘No,’ said Ron, still glaring after Hermione.

  ‘Fine,’ snapped Padma, and she got up and went to join Parvati and the Beauxbatons boy, who conjured up one of his friends to join them so fast that Harry could have sworn he had zoomed him there by a Summoning Charm.

  ‘Vare is Herm-own-ninny?’ said a voice.

  Krum had just arrived at their table clutching two Butterbeers.

  ‘No idea,’ said Ron mulishly, looking up at him. ‘Lost her, have you?’

  Krum was looking surly again.

  ‘Vell, if you see her, tell her I haff drinks,’ he said, and he slouched off.

  ‘Made friends with Viktor Krum, have you, Ron?’

  Percy had bustled over, rubbing his hands together and looking extremely pompous. ‘Excellent! That’s the whole point, you know – international magical co-operation!’

  To Harry’s annoyance, Percy promptly took Padma’s vacated seat. The top table was now empty; Professor Dumbledore was dancing with Professor Sprout; Ludo Bagman, with Professor McGonagall; Madame Maxime and Hagrid were cutting a wide path around the dance floor as they waltzed through the students and Karkaroff was nowhere to be seen. When the next song ended, everybody applauded once more, and Harry saw Ludo Bagman kiss Professor McGonagall’s hand and make his way back through the crowds, at which point Fred and George accosted him.

  ‘What do they think they’re doing, annoying senior Ministry members?’ Percy hissed, watching Fred and George suspiciously. ‘ No respect …’

  Ludo Bagman shook off Fred and George fairly quickly, however, and, spotting Harry, waved and came over to their table.

  ‘I hope my brothers weren’t bothering you, Mr Bagman?’ said Percy at once.

  ‘What? Oh, not at all, not at all!’ said Bagman. ‘No, they were just telling me a bit more about those fake wands of theirs. Wondering if I could advise t
hem on the marketing. I’ve promised to put them in touch with a couple of contacts of mine at Zonko’s Joke Shop …’

  Percy didn’t look happy about this at all, and Harry was prepared to bet he would be rushing to tell Mrs Weasley about it the moment he got home. Apparently Fred and George’s plans had grown even more ambitious lately, if they were hoping to sell to the public.

  Bagman opened his mouth to ask Harry something, but Percy diverted him. ‘How do you feel the Tournament’s going, Mr Bagman? Our department’s quite satisfied – the hitch with the Goblet of Fire’ – he glanced at Harry – ‘was a little unfortunate, of course, but it seems to have gone very smoothly since, don’t you think?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Bagman said cheerfully, ‘it’s all been enormous fun. How’s old Barty doing? Shame he couldn’t come.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure Mr Crouch will be up and about in no time,’ said Percy importantly, ‘but in the meantime, I’m more than willing to take up the slack. Of course, it’s not all attending balls –’ he laughed airily – ‘oh, no, I’ve had to deal with all sorts of things that have cropped up in his absence – you heard Ali Bashir was caught smuggling a consignment of flying carpets into the country? And then we’ve been trying to persuade the Transylvanians to sign the International Ban on Duelling, I’ve got a meeting with their Head of Magical Co-operation in the new year –’

  ‘Let’s go for a walk,’ Ron muttered to Harry, ‘get away from Percy …’

  Pretending they wanted more drinks, Harry and Ron left the table, edged around the dance floor and slipped out into the Entrance Hall. The front doors stood open, and the fluttering fairy lights in the rose garden winked and twinkled as they went down the front steps, where they found themselves surrounded by bushes, winding ornamental paths, and large stone statues. Harry could hear splashing water, which sounded like a fountain. Here and there, people were sitting on carved benches. He and Ron set off along one of the winding paths through the rose bushes, but they had gone only a short way when they heard an unpleasantly familiar voice.