New Romantics | Hermione Granger Book IV

|46| Chapter Forty-Six

F O R T Y  S I X 

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"The moment has come," said Dumbledore finally after what felt like an eternity "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket, I would like to 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 and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

The contrast between the applause for Bagman and Crouch differed inordinately. Crouch was greeted with polite applause whereas garnered a much more hearty one. Over the Summer, Sage had explained to Saffron that Crouch was a polarizing figure within the wizarding world and wasn't particularly well-liked, this likely contributed to his lack of energy in the applause for him. In the case of Bagman, he looked much friendlier and was an acclaimed Beater

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts. The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."

Saffron had no idea what this casket was but for whatever reason, she thought of a coffin. She watched as Filch brought not a coffin, but an old jewelled chest up to Dumbledore and placed it at the centre of the staff table for all to see.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," said Dumbledore, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways.. their magical prowess - their daring - their powers of deduction - and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," continued Dumbledore, his sparkling eyes scanning the hall "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."

Tapping his wand on the chest three times, Dumbledore opened the lid of the trunk and pulled out an old-fashioned looking wooden cup. The brim of it was made of blueish coloured flames, that everyone watched attentively in awe.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete. To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Goodnight to you all."

"An Age Line!" Fred Weasley enthused as they made their way to the entrance hall.. "Well, that should be fooled by an Aging Potion, shouldn't it? And once your name's in that goblet, you're laughing - it can't tell whether you're seventeen or not!"

"Do you really think Dumbledore doesn't know that's what people would try?" Saffron asked him in confusion. "I doubt that.."

"It won't hurt to try," said George, raising his eyebrows. "Always thought of you as a daredevil Saffron," he added with a grin.

"There is a thin line between bravery, and stupidity, I try not to cross it," said Saffron tartly. "Plus, I think I've had my share of unfortunate things happening to me, I don't need anymore,"

"Anyway I don't think anyone under seventeen would stand a chance," said Hermione, "we just haven't learned enough..."

"Speak for yourself," said George shortly.

"Well, it is different for you two seeing as you're almost seventeen," replied Saffron fairly. "You might be well able, but the rest of us, I'm not so sure..."

"Where is he?" said Ron abruptly, not paying attention to the ongoing conversation but being focussed on Krum, "Dumbledore didn't say where the Durmstrang people are sleeping, did he?"

"Back to the ship, then," Karkaroff unknowingly answered his question as the Durmstrang students cut across the hall. Saffron watched as Ron's mouth dropped open at the sight of Viktor, who was getting a lot of attention from his headmaster, "Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?"

Krum shook his head mutely but a fellow student was more hopeful.

"Professor, Ivood like some vine,"

"I wasn't offering it to you, Poliakoff," snapped Karkaroff waspishly. Saffron raised her eyebrows at how quickly he could change his attitude from a caring one to a spiteful one. "I notice you have dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting boy -"

They reached the door at the same time as the Gryffindors. Harry stood back to let them through.

"Thank you," said Karkaroff absentmindedly until his eyes met Harry and he froze. He stared at Harry and his eyes became fixed upon his scar. His students soon realised who they were looking at and Saffron noticed one boy point at Harry's forehead with no shame whatsoever.

"Yeah, that's Harry Potter," growled Professor Moody impatiently.

"You!" Karkaroff looked genuinely frightened by merely looking at Moody. Evidently, they had history and it wasn't the sentimental, fond kind, it was bad. Karkaroff looked as though he wanted to be anywhere else.

"Me," confirmed Moody. "And unless you've got anything to say to Potter, Karkaroff, you might want to move. You're blocking the doorway."

Karkaroff wasted no time in slipping through the door and his students followed him immediately. Saffron and Hermione exchanged a confused glance as they continued to tiredly make their way through the Great Hall and up to the Gryffindor common room, where the pair of them, Lavender and Parvati all went straight to sleep, eagerly awaiting what would come the next day with the selection. For the other three girls it was an excitement, whereas, for Saffron, it was excitement, yes, but with dread underlying all of it.