FINITE | Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire [4]

𝘅𝘅𝘅𝗶𝘅 | 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝘂𝗶𝗹𝗱 𝘂𝗽 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗵𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗺𝗮𝘀

The lead up to Christmas was the liveliest Gwen had ever seen at Hogwarts. Despite all the homework they had been set, she wanted to enjoy her holidays and spent little time doing it. She had met Theo in the library a couple times, and they had spent that time doing less work and talking more. They would now pass each other secretive looks whenever they crossed in the corridors, and seeking each other out to be alone was more difficult with almost the whole school remaining in the castle for the holidays.

The common room was as chaotic as always; Fred and George's Canary Creams had been a hit, and it wasn't uncommon to see people randomly bursting into a cloud of feathers. Gwen was very careful with what food she accepted, remembering Dudley Dursley and the Ton Tongue Toffee; George had told her that he and Fred had some more trick sweets in development, and it became almost second nature for the Gryffindors to not accept any food from anyone.

Snow was falling thickly upon the castle and its grounds now. The pale blue Beauxbatons carriage looked like a large, chilly, frosted pumpkin next to the iced gingerbread house that was Hagrid's cabin, while the Durmstrang portholes were glazed with ice, the rigging white with frost. The house elves in the kitchens were outdoing themselves with a series of rich stews and roast dinners and delicious puddings, and only Fleur Delacour seemed to be able to find anything to complain about.

'It is too heavy, all this Hogwarts food!' they heard her saying as they left the Great Hall behind her one evening. 'I will not fit into my dress robes!'

'Oh, that's a tragedy,' Hermione snapped as Fleur went into the entrance hall. 'She really thinks a lot about herself, that one, doesn't she?'

'Hermione, who are you going to the ball with?' Ron asked. He had been skulking behind Gwen, Harry, and Hermione so as not to be noticed by Fleur. He had continuously been springing this question on Hermione, trying to catch her off guard, but she hadn't budged. He would do it to Gwen, too, as she also refused to tell either Harry or Ron, given how Ron had reacted when he found out they both had been asked.

Hermione ignored Ron, leading the way up the marble staircase. Ron, however, was now looking at her.

'Hermione,' he said, 'your teeth...'

'What about them?'

'They're different... I've just noticed...'

'Of course they're different, did you expect me to keep those fangs Malfoy gave me?'

'No, I mean, they're different to how they were before he put the hex on you...'

Gwen had noticed it too, but had chosen not to say anything for fear of accidentally offending Hermione. Hermione, however, grinned mischievously.

'When I went up to Madame Pomfrey to get them put back, she held up a mirror and told me to stop her when they were back to normal,' she said, 'and I just... let her carry on a bit.' She was smiling very widely. 'Mum and Dad won't be too pleased. I've been trying to persuade them to let me shrink them for ages, but they wanted me to carry on with my braces. You know, they're dentists, they just don't think teeth and magic should-- look! Pigwidgeon's back!'

Ron's tiny owl was twittering madly on top of the icicle laden bannisters, a scroll of parchment tied to his leg. People passing by were pointing and laughing, and a group of third year girls paused and said, 'Oh, look at the tiny owl! Isn't he cute?'

'Stupid little feathery git!' Ron hissed, hurrying up the stairs and snatching up the owl. 'You bring letters to the addressee! You don't hang around showing off.

Pigwidgeon hooted happily, his head protruding over Ron's fist. The third year girls all looked very shocked.

'Clear off!' Ron snapped at them, and the girls scattered away, looking scandalised. Ron released Pigwidgeon, and he soared through the air to Harry, who took the letter from his leg and pocketed it; the four of them hurried back to Gryffindor Tower to read it.

Everyone in the common room was much too busy letting off more holiday steam to observe what anyone else was up to. Gwen, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat apart from everyone else by a dark window that was gradually filling up with snow.

Harry read the letter aloud:

Dear Harry,

Congratulations on getting past the Horntail. Whoever put your name in that goblet shouldn't be feeling too happy right now! I was going to suggest a Conjunctivitis Curse, as a dragon's eyes are its weakest point but your way was better, I'm impressed.

Don't get complacent, though, Harry. You've only done one task; whoever put you in for the tournament's got plenty more opportunity if they're trying to hurt you. Keep your eyes open — particularly when the person we discussed is around — and concentrate on keeping yourself out of trouble.

Keep in touch, I still want to hear about anything unusual.

Sirius.

'Sounds like Moody,' Gwen said quietly as Harry tucked the letter away.

He nodded. 'You'd think I was walking around with my eyes shut, banging off the walls...'

'But he's right, Harry,' said Hermione, 'you have still got two tasks to do. You really ought to have a look at that egg, you know, and start working out what it means...'

'Hermione! He's got ages!' Ron said. 'Want a game of chess, Harry?'

'Yeah, OK,' said Harry, then hurriedly, he added to Hermione, 'Come on, how am I supposed to concentrate with all this noise? I won't even be able to hear the egg over this lot.'

'Oh, I suppose not,' she sighed, and she sat down with Gwen to watch the chess match, which ended in an exciting checkmate of Ron's, involving a couple of recklessly brave pawns and a very violent bishop.