A Hogwarts Legend: Chaos Begins [4] (SLOW UPDATES)

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty One - "You're like our own personal Encyclopedia."

There's a pleasant feeling of anticipation in the air today. Nobody is very attentive in lessons, being much more interested in the arrival this evening of the people from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang; even Potions is more bearable than usual, as it's half an hour shorter. When the bell rings early, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Maya, Elinor and I hurry up to Gryffindor Tower, deposit out bags and books as we've been instructed, pull on our cloaks and rush back downstairs into the Entrance Hall.

The Heads of houses are ordering their students into lines.

"Weasley, straighten your hat," Professor McGonagall snaps at Ron. "Miss Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair."

Parvati scowls and removes a large ornamental butterfly from the end of her plait.

"Follow me, please," says Professor McGonagall "first-years in front ... no pushing ..."

We file down the front steps and line up in front of the castle. It's a cold, clear evening; dusk is falling and a pale, transparent-looking moon is already shining over the Forbidden Forest. Standing between Harry and Ron in the fourth row from the front, I see Dennis Creevey positively shivering with anticipation among the other first-years.

"Nearly six," says Maya, checking her watch and then staring down the drive which leads to the front gates. "How d'you reckon they're coming? The train?"

"I doubt it," says Elinor.

"How, then? Broomsticks?" Harry suggests, looking up at the starry sky.

"I don't think so ..." I say, "not from that far away ..."

"A Portkey?" Ron suggests. "Or they could Apparate - maybe you're allowed to do it under seventeen wherever they come from?"

"You can't Apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds, how often do I have to tell you?" says Hermione impatiently.

"Every day," I shrug. "You're like our own personal Encyclopedia, Hermione. Full of facts we don't care about, but we get told anyway."

We scan the darkening grounds excitedly, but nothing is moving; everything is still, silent and quiet as usual. I'm starting to feel cold. I wish they'd hurry up ... maybe the foreign students are preparing a dramatic entrance ... I remember what Mr Weasley said back on the campsite before the Quidditch World Cup - "Always the same, we can't resist showing off when we get together ..."

And then Dumbledore calls out from the back row, where he stands with the other teachers - "Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

"Where?" says many students eagerly, all looking in different directions.

"There!" yells a sixth-year, pointing over the Forest.

Something large, much larger than a broomstick - or, indeed, a hundred broomsticks - is hurtling across the deep blue sky towards the castle, growing larger all the time.

"It's a dragon!" shrieks one of the first-years, losing her head completely.

"Don't be stupid ... it's a flying house!" says Dennis Creevey.

Dennis's guess is closer ... as the gigantic black shape skims over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest, and the lights shining from the castle windows hit it, we see a gigantic, powder-blue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring towards us, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant.

The front three rows of students draw backwards as the carriage hurtles ever lower, coming in to land at a tremendous speed - then, with an almighty crash that makes Neville jump backwards onto a Slytherin fifth-year's foot - the horses' hooves, larger than dinner plates, hit the ground. A second later, the carriage lands too, bounding upon its vast wheels, while the golden horses toss thief enormous heads and roll large, fiery red eyes.