A Summoner in the Wizarding World

Chapter 32: Beauxbatons and Durmstrang

By Friday, both students and professors were absent-minded with anticipation. It has, after all, been a long time since large delegations came to stay at Hogwarts, certainly centuries since the famed Triwizard tournament was held. Despite knowing by heart exactly who the champions, I was very much on the hype train with Hermione, eager to know all the details of where Grindelwald and Nicolas Flamel came from.

During Potions, the last period, Snape seemed quite distracted and glanced at his Mark from time to time - a sign that old Voldy is communicating with Death Eaters, perhaps? Granted, although Hermione and I were not announcing our relationship, at least half of Hogwarts seems to know it already. I know for a fact Rita Skeeter would be all over us the moment I was chosen as the 4th champion.

Pushing unrelated thoughts aside, I find myself standing with the Griffindors near the entrance, waiting for both schools to arrive. The deep blue sky was cloudless, which would be perfect for a spooky Halloween if not for the tournament.

"Nearly six," said Ron, checking his watch while staring at the carriage path that leads to the station. "How d'you reckon they're coming? The train?"

"I doubt it", Hermione said, before I could rebut the guy.

"How, then? Portkey? They could Apparate - if those schools had anyone like Professor Dumbledore, side-along kids should be fine...", Ron suggested.

"Can't Apparate in Hogwarts grounds, Ron," I shook my head, "and even if they could, the further the Apparition, the more inconsistent - and both France and Germany are miles from here. I bet it's some kind of transport like a flying carriage..."

Fred and George overheard our conversation and slipped by, whispering out of Hermione's earshot:

"You up for that bet, Harry? Ten sickles for flying carriage? We'll put in five each for Portkey..."

Before long, everyone were putting their bets in - to a certain bushy-haired girl's dismay - and I saw some pretty imaginative guesses, including flying carpets (and whoever put that should learn geography) and reindeer sleigh (the Colin Brothers, as a joke).

The betting soon stopped, however, with the arrival of both schools.

"Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!", Dumbledore exclaimed, attracting everyone's attention.

A sixth year pointed over the Forest - of which, a looming silhouette glittered silver in the darkening sky. The ginormous shape drew closer, and all of us saw winged horses the size of African elephants pulling a powder-blue carriage. The twins looked at me in envy but honestly coughed up the sickles, earning myself a reprimanding gaze from Hermione.

After the carriage slightly crash-landed, making several students leap in surprise, a boy in blue jumped down, unfurling luxurious golden steps - a classic and showy move, but undoubtedly effective, earning a few wows from Hogwarts students. He was followed by the tallest woman I've seen, who must be Madame Maxime, as she stepped to greet Dumbledore.

Dumbledore began to clap. prompting students to follow his lead. The woman approached with a gracious smile, extending a glittering hand towards the Headmaster, which he barely bent to kiss.

"My dear Madame Maxime," he said, "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dorr," replied Madame Maxime in a deep voice. "I 'ope I find you well?"

"On excellent form, I thank you."

"My pupils," said Madame Maxime as she waved carelessly behind her.

Now, unlike Ron, who was craning his neck for a better view, or Hermione, who don't seem to understand the clear apprehension upon the Beauxbatons' faces, I was instead scanning the crowd for a certain part-Veela. I didn't have to look for too long, however, as I soon glimpsed a girl with silvery hair that seemed to glow with magic.

The person in question somehow noticed the stare and met my gaze ever so briefly - and she was, without a doubt, the most alluring and graceful woman I've ever seen. Though, it seemed I was not so brief, staring into the distance as she's gone, that Hermione gave me a painful squeeze and one menacing we'll-talk-about-this-later look.

This distraction cut me off from the conversation the two Heads are having - I heard some mention of 'only single-malt whisky' - and right after, a loud and eerie rumbling was coming from the lake. Water swirled at the center of the lake, waves crashing onto the banks, and what seemed to be a long, black pole began to rise out of the whirlpool.

"That's Durmstrang!" I said to Hermione.

Slowly, the ship rose, gleaming black in the moonlight as though it just came out of a pirate's bottle. It even had a rather bare-bone, haunted look - a perfect fit for an army of half-marine, half-human abominations led by Davy Jones. Instead of him, however, what came out of the ship was a tall, thin man with tousled dark hair.

"Dumbledore!", the man called out heartily, "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff."

The ex-Death Eater shook Dumbledore's hand with both of his own.

"Dear old Hogwarts," he said with a creepy smile, "How good to be here, how good... Viktor, come along, into the warmth... you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold..."

He beckoned towards the Quidditch star, startling almost everyone else except myself, who was expecting the fact, and Hermione, who never had much interest in the sport. Speaking of the guy, he seemed annoyed - which may or may not be his default expression - and quite stuffy, what with the many layers Karkaroff must've insisted on.

With both school's settled in the Hall, all students quickly returned to their seats for the feast. A brief struggle ensued where Griffindors and Slytherins compete for Krum's position - the latter winning, obviously - and we found ourselves staring at the newly part-English, part-French and part-German/Russian selections.

As their Headmistress walk past, the Beauxbatons along the Ravenclaw table stood up, only returning to their seats once Madame Maxime found hers next to Dumbledore. They seemed quite content staring rapturously at the Hogwarts Headmaster, some looking glum at the prospect of staying here for the whole year.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and - most particularly - guests. I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable"

"The Tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast. I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

And with that annoucement, he sat down to engage in conversation with Karkaroff.