October 30. The Great Hall had already been lavishly decorated in preparation for welcoming the guests.
Huge silk banners representing the four houses hung along the walls: Gryffindor with a red field and a golden lion, Ravenclaw with a blue field and a bronze eagle, Hufflepuff with a yellow field and a black badger, and Slytherin with a green field and a silver serpent. Behind the teachers' table was a massive depiction of the Hogwarts crest, with the animals symbolizing the four houses encircling a large letter H.
The students then filed through the Great Hall and lined up in the Entrance Hall to welcome the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang.
Perhaps because they were receiving foreign students, the supervising professors seemed a little on edge. Even Professor Snape, putting his own appearance aside, was nitpicking the students' attire.
"Bulstrode, tie your necktie properly. Roper, remove all your earrings. Zabini, cover up that tattoo on your arm. And Greengrass, your neckline is far too open."
While all this was going on, a pale moon began to shine over the Forbidden Forest, and everyone gazed out at the darkening grounds, their chests swelling with anticipation.
"It's almost six o'clock…" Pansy said, checking her wristwatch and tilting her head as she stared down the carriage road leading to the front gates.
"But how are they coming, I wonder? By broom, by train, or maybe by Portkey…"
"Or maybe in a flying car?" Draco sneered, glancing toward Ron and Harry.
Pansy giggled along with him, and at that moment, Headmaster Dumbledore called out from the back of the line.
"If my eyes do not deceive me, that is the Beauxbatons delegation!"
High above the forest in the direction everyone was looking, something far larger than a hundred broomsticks was rapidly growing as it raced toward the castle. On closer inspection, it was a gigantic pastel-blue carriage.
A carriage the size of a large mansion was being pulled by twelve pegasi. Each one gleamed in gold and silver and was as large as an elephant.
The carriage descended swiftly, entered its landing approach at tremendous speed, and touched down with a thunderous impact. Painted on its body was the Beauxbatons crest: two golden wands crossed, with three stars shooting from their tips. From inside emerged a woman of extraordinary size.
Her high heels were as large as a child's sled, and her height was nearly on par with Hagrid's. She had smooth, sun-kissed skin, sharp features, large black eyes, and a pointed nose. Draped in black satin from head to toe, she wore several magnificent opals at her collar and on her thick fingers.
"Well then, Madame Maxime. Welcome to Hogwarts."
After the two headmasters exchanged a few words, more than a dozen students emerged from the carriage. Dressed in pale blue, thin silk robes that clung softly to their bodies, they looked cold, with several of them wrapping scarves around their heads or shawls around their shoulders.
Before long, a muffled, ominous sound echoed from the direction of the lake.
"Hey, look at the lake!" Millicent shouted.
When we followed her pointing finger, we saw enormous bubbles rising from the surface of the water. Soon the center of the lake began to churn into a whirlpool, and from its heart, something long and pole-like slowly rose upward.
As it surfaced bit by bit, sails became visible on the pole. Once fully emerged, it was unmistakably the silhouette of a ship. Dim, hazy lights glimmered from old portholes, and the skeletal-looking hull made it resemble a ghost ship.
A few minutes later, the sound of an anchor splashing into the shallows reached us, and the crew began disembarking down the gangplank. All of them wore thick, shaggy fur coats, and the silver-haired man at the front was clad in smooth white fur.
"Dumbledore! It's been a while. Have you been well?"
"Fit as ever, Headmaster Karkaroff."
Headmaster Karkaroff, with his thin, curly goat beard, greeted him affably, and Dumbledore replied with a warm smile. They shook hands with both hands, and then Karkaroff beckoned over a young man.
As the youth approached, a ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd, and I could hear Millicent and Daphne beside me sharply inhale.
"I-It's Krum! The real Viktor Krum!"
"Oh my god… do you think we could get his autograph? Or maybe his contact info?"
Standing there was Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker from the Quidison World Cup finals.
"If it's an autograph or a signed photo from the real Krum, you could resell it for a fortune…"
"Elaina, stop it. You'll get stabbed somewhere someday," Pansy warned.
Chastened, we crossed the Entrance Hall once more and returned to the Great Hall.
＊＊
Even while moving, the students were still buzzing with excitement, noisily chatting with anyone nearby.
"No way, seriously? We get to see Krum play live?"
"This is insane. I'm ridiculously lucky! I'm glad I repeated a year!"
"Man, he really is even cooler in person!"
"Everyone, let's make room for our Durmstrang guests! Viktor Krum might come sit with us!"
Even Astoria, who was usually cool-headed and secretly a huge Quidditch fan, had flushed cheeks as she tried to rally everyone to secure Krum.
Their efforts paid off. The Durmstrang students, unsure where to sit, headed straight for the promptly cleared Slytherin table and began taking seats one by one.
By sheer luck, Krum ended up sitting directly across from us fourth-years. Ignoring the envious looks from the other houses, the Slytherins grew frantic, desperate to get his autograph as quickly as possible.
"Hey, does anyone have a quill?"
"Ah, damn it, why did I leave mine in the dorm?"
On the opposite table, several sixth-years were frantically rummaging through their pockets, but it seemed none of them had one.
"Elaina, don't you have a pen?"
"I have five. Five Sickles each, and you can choose from five colors."
Millicent reluctantly bought one at the inflated price of five Sickles, while Zabini bought all four remaining pens for twenty Sickles. Was he planning to get autographs in different colors? As I was thinking that—
"Alright, attention! Limited offer, three ballpoint pens for nine Sickles!"
He was pulling an even more shameless move than I was.
"Blaise, give me one!"
And sure enough, it looked like Draco Malfoy had already become a customer. If it meant getting the world's greatest Seeker's autograph first, nine Sickles probably felt like pocket change to him.
"K-Krum! I'm a huge fan, and I watched the World Cup finals!"
Draco Malfoy's pale face was flushed as he seized the opportunity to heap praise on Krum.
"Um, well… if you don't mind, could I get your autograph in my book?"
"Of course."
As expected of an active star player, he smoothly signed Draco's copy of Quidditch Through the Ages. Though he did not smile, perhaps due to a serious temperament, the fact that he even offered Draco a handshake as a bonus suggested he was a genuinely kind person at heart.
"K-Krum shook my hand! Nott, how do I avoid ever washing this hand?"
"First, calm down," Nott replied.
As if taking their cue from Draco Malfoy, whose IQ seemed to be dropping after shaking hands with his favorite player, a flood of Slytherins rushed toward Krum, overwhelmed by his fan service.
"Krum, I love you! Marry me!"
"Durmstrang is seriously the best!"
"Bulgarian magic power is number one in the world!"
"Kruuum! Hold me!"
"Okay, okay, everyone line up properly. Keep your distance, and no running in the Great Hall."
Amid all this, there was one student diligently organizing the waiting line. Surprisingly enough, it was Daphne Greengrass.
"Come on, come on, you're bothering other people. Once you've gotten your autograph, pass the turn to the next person right away!"
She made her wand glow red like a Muggle traffic baton, raising it to signal people to stop, then swinging it around to urge them forward.
"Hey, don't push there! Take it slow!"
That firm, capable behavior, so at odds with her seemingly flighty appearance, appeared to catch Mr. Krum's interest. After she finished managing the waiting line and Krum was finally freed from the crowd of fans, he spoke to Daphne.
"Thank you."
True to his earnest nature, Krum expressed his gratitude sincerely, and Daphne responded with a beaming smile that filled her face.
"No problem at all!"
After the fans had mostly dispersed, Daphne, now alone with Krum and receiving his thanks, closed in with a knowing grin, as if she had been waiting for this moment, and boldly shortened the distance between them.
"She was after him from the start…" Millicent muttered.
Ignoring that, Daphne looked up at Krum with an artful, upward gaze, her eyes those of a hunter. Gripping the open collar of her shirt, unbuttoned down to the third button, she murmured, "It's hot, isn't it?" while fanning air inside, puffing it out with quick motions.
Naturally, Krum's gaze was drawn there, and the soft, emphatically feminine curves pressing insistently from within her loosely worn uniform captured the attention of everyone around them.
"…"
"…"
"…"
Big. Really big.
Her dazzling white, finely textured skin and the youthful, healthy fullness of a high school girl stirred imaginations. Even through the shirt, or perhaps precisely because of it, the taut wrinkles from the fabric being stretched tight and the faintly visible color of her bra were more than enough to inflame the fantasies of the nearby Slytherin boys. At the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables as well, especially among the fourth-years, students were left squirming as they watched a classmate exuding an undeniably erotic air.
"I'm Daphne. Nice to meet you!"
"N-Nice to meet you. I am Viktor Krum. Ah, Miss…"
"Greengrass! But if you use my family name, it gets confusing since I have a sister, so I'd be happy if you called me by my first name."
"Then… D-Daphne."
"Thanks! Can I call you Viktor too?"
With her bold looks fully on display, she deliberately avoided joining the autograph line to create a contrast of earnestness, then mercilessly ground down his rationality with her feminine weapons. From there, she smoothly steered things into first-name terms by bringing up her sister. It was a barrage of thoroughly calculated techniques, and she pressed closer and closer with sly determination.
"Slytherin girls are brutal…"
"It's not just calculating, it's kind of… raw."
"But that's what makes it good…"
As Seamus, Neville, and Dean at the Gryffindor table shared their flustered impressions with reddened faces, Headmaster Dumbledore stood up once he saw that all the students were seated.
＊＊＊
"Ladies and gentlemen, ghosts included, and our honored guests, good evening. I extend to you my heartfelt welcome to Hogwarts!"
With a voice that was warm yet dignified, Headmaster Dumbledore offered his greetings and grandly declared the opening of the Triwizard Tournament.
"The Triwizard Tournament will officially begin once this feast concludes. Until then, eat, drink, and relax to your hearts' content!"
As soon as Headmaster Dumbledore sat down, the plates before us filled as they always did.
Incidentally, it seemed the Beauxbatons students had taken seats at the Ravenclaw table. Unlike the Durmstrang students, who gazed about with curiosity at the star-studded ceiling and the golden plates and goblets, the Beauxbatons students wore displeased expressions and whispered among themselves.
Their gaze was fixed on what lay before them.
"So this is the secret to British patience. Even trolls living deep in the mountains eat slightly better than this."
There were mountains of British dishes laid out to an almost excessive degree: sausages charred black, half of them filler; greasy fish and chips drenched in malt vinegar; flabby pasta soft enough for the sick; English-style green bean salad consisting of boiled beans topped with butter; and toast sandwiches with toasted bread used as the patty.
Seeing this, the French Beauxbatons students smirked in open derision.
"I can't even imagine how much the house-elves must hate you to serve food like this."
"What this table really needs isn't seasoning, it's anesthetic."
"If I had to choose between eating British food or the plate it's on, I'd eat the plate."
"Hey, Millicent, don't you think they're getting a bit full of themselves?"
"What do we do, Pansy? Execute them? Execute them?"
As Pansy trembled with bulging veins while Millicent made such dangerous remarks, the Durmstrang students at the Slytherin table, in sharp contrast to Beauxbatons, happily dug into beef Wellington, scones with jam and clotted cream, mince pies packed with brandy-soaked dried fruit, and cullen skink, chewing away with evident enjoyment.
For the record, this difference was neither a jab nor a slight by Headmaster Dumbledore against Beauxbatons.
"Hogwarts has four houses, and each one has its own quirks based on the founder's preferences," Daphne explained, having smoothly seated herself beside Krum and closing the distance far more than necessary.
Viktor Krum, who had been flustered up to that point, responded with clear interest.
"Is that so? I did not notice."
"Well, things like baked beans and roast chicken are pretty much the same everywhere, but look over there."
Daphne pointed toward the Gryffindor table. It was piled high with roasted venison, lean and mild; Yorkshire pudding; black pudding; shepherd's pie; lamprey pie; an unrelenting mountain of meat dishes.
True to Godric Gryffindor, a founder who was also a brave warrior, the fare was heavy on hearty, stamina-building meats, quite different from our own table, which reflected Salazar Slytherin's aristocratic tastes with its more refined dishes.
Turning to the Hufflepuff table, one saw food befitting a house founded by the home-loving Helga Hufflepuff: Cornish pasties, Scotch eggs, chicken tikka masala, and Dundee cake, simple yet inviting dishes laid out in abundance.
As for Rowena Ravenclaw, the rationalist, she seemed to regard meals purely as a means of nourishment. In pursuing efficiency above all else, her house's food inevitably sacrificed flavor. That was the Ravenclaw table the Beauxbatons students had chosen. Alongside the earlier dishes were crumpets, Scotch woodcock, kippers, and Marmite, all emphasizing convenient nutrition over taste or texture. Ravenclaw students, pragmatic as they were, raised few complaints, but it clearly did not suit the refined palates of the Beauxbatons students.
Once the golden plates were empty again, Headmaster Dumbledore rose to his feet once more.
(End of chapter)
Want to read the chapters in Advance? Join my Patreon
https://patreon.com/Glimmer09