hough Moody assured him the
effects would wear off by lunchtime. "Talk about paranoid. . ." Ron glanced
nervously over his shoulder to check that Moody was definitely out of earshot and
went on. "No wonder they were glad to get shot of him at the Ministry. Did you
hear him telling Seamus what he did to that witch who shouted 'Boo' behind him
on April Fools' Day? And when are we supposed to read up on resisting the
Imperius Curse with everything else we've got to do?"
152
All the fourth years had noticed a definite increase in the amount of work they
were required to do this term. Professor McGonagall explained why, when the
class gave a particularly loud groan at the amount of Transfiguration homework
she had assigned.
"You are now entering a most important phase of your magical education!" she
told them, her eyes glinting dangerously behind her square spectacles. "Your
Ordinary Wizarding Levels are drawing closer --"
"We don't take O.W.L.s till fifth year!" s aid Dean Thomas indignantly.
"Maybe not, Thomas, but believe me, you need all the preparation you can get!
Miss Granger remains the only person in this class who has managed to turn a
hedgehog into a satisfactory pincushion. I might remind you that your pincushion,
Thomas, still curls up in fright if anyone approaches it with a pin!"
Hermione, who had turned rather pink again, seemed to be trying not to look too
pleased with herself.
Harry and Ron were deeply amused when Professor Trelawney told them that they
had received top marks for their homework in their next Divination class. She read
out large portions of their predictions, commending them for their unflinching
acceptance of the horrors in store for them - but they were less amused when she
asked them to do the same thing for the month after next; both of them were
running out of ideas for catastrophes.
Meanwhile Professor Binns, the ghost who taught History of Magic, had them
writing weekly essays on the goblin rebellions of the eighteenth century. Professor
Snape was forcing them to research antidotes. They took this one seriously, as he
had hinted that he might be poisoning one of them before Christmas to see if their
antidote worked. Professor Flitwick had asked them to read three extra books in
preparation for their lesson on Summoning Charms.
Even Hagrid was adding to their workload. The Blast-Ended Skrewts were
growing at a remarkable pace given that nobody had yet discovered what they ate.
Hagrid was delighted, and as part of their "project," suggested that they come
down to his hut on alternate evenings to observe the skrewts and make notes on
their extraordinary behavior.
"I will not," said Draco Malfoy flatly when Hagrid had proposed this with the air
of Father Christmas pulling an extra-large toy out of his sack. "I see enough of
these foul things during lessons, thanks."
Hagrid's smile faded off his face.
"Yeh'll do wha' yer told," he growled, "or I'll be takin' a leaf outta Professor
Moody's book. . . . I hear yeh made a good ferret, Malfoy."
The Gryffindors roared with laughter. Malfoy flushed with anger, but apparently
153
the memory of Moody's punishment was still sufficiently painful to stop him from
retorting. Harry, Ron, and Hermione returned to the castle at the end of the lesson
in high spirits; seeing Hagrid put down Malfoy was particularly satisfying,
especially because Malfoy had done his very best to get Hagrid sacked the
previous year.
When they arrived in the entrance hall, they found themselves unable to proceed
owing to the large crowd of students congregated there, all milling around a large
sign that had been erected at the foot of the marble staircase. Ron, the tallest of the
three, stood on tiptoe to see over the heads in front of them and read the sign aloud
to the other two:
TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT
THE DELEGATIONS FROM BEAUXBATONS AND
DURMSTRANG WILL BE ARRIVING AT 6 O'CLOCK
ON FRIDAY THE 30TH OF OCTOBER. LESSONS WILL
END HALF AN HOUR EARLY --
"Brilliant!" said Harry. "It's Potions last thing on Friday! Snape won't have time to
poison us all!"
STUDENTS WILL RETURN THEIR BAGS AND BOOKS
TO THEIR DORMITORIES AND ASSEMBLE IN FRONT
OF THE CASTLE TO GREET OUR GUESTS BEFORE
THE WELCOMING FEAST.
"Only a week away!" said Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff, emerging from the
crowd, his eyes gleaming. "I wonder if Cedric knows? Think I'll go and tell him. . .
."
"Cedric?" said Ron blankly as Ernie hurried off.
"Diggory," said Harry. "He must be entering the tournament."
"That idiot, Hogwarts champion?" said Ron as they pushed their way through the
chattering crowd toward the staircase.
"He's not an idiot. You just don't like him because he beat Gryffindor at
Quidditch," said Hermione. "I've heard he's a really good student - and he's a
prefect."
She spoke as though this settled the matter.
154
"You only like him because he's handsome," said Ron scathingly.
"Excuse me, I don't like people just because they're handsome!" said Hermione
indignantly.
Ron gave a loud false cough, which sounded oddly like "Lockhart!"
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 Harry 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.
Harry 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.
Other members of the staff seemed oddly tense too.
"Longbottom, kindly do not reveal that you can't even perform a simple Switching
Spell in front of anyone from Durmstrang!" Professor McGonagall barked at the
end of one particularly difficult lesson, during which Neville had accidentally
transplanted his own ears onto a cactus.
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.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down beside Fred and George at the Gryffindor
table. Once again, and most unusually, they were sitting apart from everyone else
and conversing in low voices. Ron led the way over to them.
"It's a bummer, all right," George was saying gloomily to Fred. "But if he won't
talk to us in person, we'll have to send him the letter after all. Or we'll stuff it into
his hand. He can't avoid us forrever.
"Who's avoiding you?" said Ron, sitting down next to them.
"Wish you would," said Fred, looking irritated at the interruption.
"What's a bummer?" Ron asked George.
155
"Having a nosy git like you for a brother," said George.
"You two got any ideas on the Triwizard Tournament yet?" Harry asked. "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 Ron thoughtfully. "You know, I bet
we could do them, Harry. We've done dangerous stuff before. . . ."
"Not in front of a panel of judges, you haven't," said Fred. "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.
Though, of course, that book's not entirely reliable. A Revised History of
Hogwarts would be a more accurate title. Or A Highly Biased and Selective
History of Hogwarts, Which Glosses Over the Nastier Aspects of the School."
"What are you on about?" said Ron, though Harry thought he knew what was
coming.
"House-elves!" said Hermione, her eyes flashing. "Not once, in over a thousand
pages, does Hogwarts, A History mention that we are all colluding in the
oppression of a hundred slaves!"
Harry shook his head and applied himself to his scrambled eggs. His and Ron's
lack of enthusiasm had done nothing whatsoever to curb Hermione's determination
to pursue justice for house-elves.
True, both of them had paid two Sickles for a S.P.E.W. badge, but they had only
done it to keep her quiet. Their Sickles had been wasted, however; if anything,
they seemed to have made Hermione more vociferous. She had been badgering
Harry and Ron ever since, first to wear the badges, then to persuade others to do
the same, and she had also taken to rattling around the Gryffindor common room
every evening, cornering people and shaking the collecting tin under their noses.
"You do realize that your sheets are changed, your fires lit, your classrooms
