CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE; beauxbatons and durmstrang

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PART TWO
Beauxbatons And Durmstrang

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" third person point of view "

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AT BREAKFAST THE next morning, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down beside Fred and George at the Gryffindor table. Once again, and most unusually, they were sitting apart from everyone else and conversing in low voices. Ron led the way over to them.

"It's a bummer, all right," George was saying gloomily to Fred. "But if he won't talk to us in person, we'll have to send him the letter after all. Or we'll stuff it into his hand. He can't avoid us forrever."

"Who's avoiding you?" said Ron, sitting down next to them.

"Wish you would," said Fred, looking irritated at the interruption.

"What's a bummer?" Ron asked George.

"Having a nosy git like you for a brother," said George.

"You two got any ideas on the Triwizard Tournament yet?" Harry asked. "Thought any more about trying to enter?"

"I asked McGonagall how the champions are chosen but she wasn't telling," said George bitterly. "She just told me to shut up and get on with transfiguring my raccoon."

"We want to use an Ageing potion, y'know so we'd be old enough." Fred whispered. "But Y/N has been watching us and has been trying to make sure we don't get into too much trouble. What she doesn't know is—Y/N/N!"

Fred's sentence was cut short when his girlfriend walked up to the small group, still yawning.

"Wonder what the tasks are going to be?" said Ron thoughtfully while changing the subject. "You know, I bet we could do them, Harry. We've done dangerous stuff before...."

"Not in front of a panel of judges, you haven't," said Y/N, taking the empty seat next to Fred and began piling food onto her plate. "McGonagall says the champions get awarded points according to how well they've done the tasks."

"Who are the judges?" Harry asked.

"Well, the Heads of the participating schools are always on the panel," said Hermione, and everyone looked around at her, rather surprised, "because all three of them were injured during the Tournament of 1792, when a cockatrice the champions were supposed to be catching went on the rampage."

She noticed them all looking at her and said, with her usual air of impatience, "It's all in Hogwarts, A History. Though, of course, that book's not entirely reliable. A Revised History of Hogwarts would be a more accurate title. Or A Highly Biased and Selective History of Hogwarts, Which Glosses Over the Nastier Aspects of the School."

"What are you on about?" said Ron.

"House-elves!" said Hermione, her eyes flashing. "Not once, in over a thousand pages, does Hogwarts, A History mention that we are all colluding in the oppression of a hundred slaves!"

Harry shook his head and applied himself to his scrambled eggs. His and Ron's lack of enthusiasm had done nothing whatsoever to curb Hermione's determination to pursue justice for house-elves. True, both of them had paid two Sickles for a 'S.P.E.W.' badge, but they had only done it to keep her quiet. Their Sickles had been wasted, however; if anything, they seemed to have made Hermione more vociferous. Some people, like Neville Longbottom, had paid up just to stop Hermione from glowering at them.

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