Although she glared at Evan, Hermione didn’t seem angry.
“Well, when you’ve put your eyes back in,” she said briskly. “You will find that Dumbledore has come in and the party is about to begin.”
Hermione was right. Evan turned to see the professors walking into the Great Hall, filing up to the top table and taking their seats.
Last in line were Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime, the Headmasters of the three wizarding schools.
When their headmistress appeared, the pupils from Beauxbatons leapt to their feet.
A few of the Hogwarts students laughed. The Beauxbatons party appeared quite unembarrassed, however, and did not resume their seats until Madame Maxime had sat down on Dumbledore’s left-hand side.
Evan knew that Beauxbatons was tightly managed compared to the more relaxed environment at Hogwarts.
All the professors sat down, Dumbledore remained standing, and a silence fell over the Great Hall.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and … most particularly … guests,” said Dumbledore, beaming around 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.”
One of the Beauxbatons girls still clutching a muffler around her head gave what was unmistakably a derisive laugh.
“That girl is such a nuisance. No one’s making you stay!” Hermione whispered.
She was obviously annoyed by the girl, and Evan quickly whispered a few words of persuasion to her.
There were many other people who thought like Hermione, and everyone was surprised by the behavior of the Beauxbatons girl. They didn’t know what kind of education they received in school. Beauxbatons was very hostile to Hogwarts.
The same was true with Evan last time. A word and a blow, these French people!
As for Durmstrang students, they did not show hostility so directly, but they did not focus on listening to Dumbledore’s speech. They seemed to be more interested in the golden tableware on the table, wondering if they were really gold.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast,” said Dumbledore. “I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!”
He sat down, and Evan saw Karkaroff lean forward at once and engage him in conversation.
The next second, the plates in front of them filled with food as usual.
The house-elves in the kitchen seemed to have pulled out all the stops; there was a greater variety of dishes in front of them than they had ever seen, including several that were definitely foreign.contemporary romance
“What’s that?” said Colin, pointing at a large dish of some sort of shellfish stew that stood beside a large steak-and-kidney pudding..
“Bouillabaisse,” said Hermione. ““It’s French; I had it on holiday the summer before last. It’s very nice.”
Hearing her words, everyone helped themselves a bit.
Only Ron hadn’t moved yet, he had been staring at Fleur, his eyes fixed on her.
“Eat now, Ron, it will be cold soon!” Harry pulled him.
“Oh!” Ron replied, reluctant to take back his eyes and helped himself to black pudding.
The Great Hall seemed somehow much more crowded than usual, even though there were barely twenty additional students there; perhaps it was because their differently colored uniforms stood out so clearly against the black of Hogwarts’ robes.
Beauxbatons school uniform robes were pale blue, and the Durmstrang students were wearing robes of a deep blood red under the furs.
Hagrid sidled into the Hall through a door behind the staff table twenty minutes after the start of the feast. He slid into his seat at the end, near the Gryffindor long table.
Hagrid waved at Evan, Harry, Ron, and Hermione with a very heavily bandaged hand.
“Are the skrewts doing all right, Hagrid?” Harry couldn’t help but ask.
“No problem, they’re thriving.” Hagrid replied happily.
“Yeah, I’ll bet they just are,” Ron whispered. “Looks like they’ve finally found a food they like, doesn’t it? Hagrid’s fingers.”
No one paid any attention to him, because someone else came into the Great Hall, Mr. Ludo Bagman and Mr. Crouch, Percy’s immediate boss.
Bagman walked over and sat on Professor Karkaroff’s other side, while Mr. Crouch sat next to Madame Maxime.
Evan looked up at Crouch. Was this guy under control of the Imperius Curse now?!
However, nothing seemed to be unusual, nor did Crouch seem to be under the Imperius Curse. He was still exactly the same as usual.
His meticulous appearance was beyond the comprehension of ordinary people.
He seemed to feel Evan’s gaze, and Crouch suddenly raised his head and looked at him.
Evan hurriedly turned his head. He had been thinking about it some time ago. If Barty Crouch intended to use someone else’s identity to get into Hogwarts, besides students, he could also pretend to be his father himself, which was very likely.
As one of the judges, Barty Crouch had access to every aspect of the tournament.
In due course, with the help of Caresius under the disguise of Moody, his mission could be pulled off easily.
And Barty Crouch Jr. knew his father’s habits very well, and he didn’t need to have more unnecessary worries.
Even if there was any abnormality, with Mr. Crouch’s status in the Ministry of Magic, it could be easily solved.
Detection props such as the Marauder’s Map were useless on him, and there was no need to worry about being discovered.
In that case, could Barty Crouch Jr. be Mr. Crouch?
Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again. A pleasant sort of tension seemed to fill the Hall now, and everyone was waiting for the following program.
Everyone suppressed their excitement and stared at Dumbledore intently.
The same was true of the students of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, and no one was as distracted as before.
“The moment has come,” said Dumbledore, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. “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?” Harry muttered.
“I don’t know!”
Everyone was blank except Evan, who knew it meant the Goblet of Fire.
“… just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation”… there was a smattering of polite applause and many people didn’t know Mr. Crouch, “…and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports.”
There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps because of his fame as a Beater, or simply because he looked so much more likable.
He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand, while Bartemius Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced.
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