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Said Harry, through a sizable chunk of steak. Peeves, of course, said Nearly Headless Nick, shaking his head, which wobbled dangerously. He pulled his ruff a little higher up on his neck. The usual argument, you know. He wanted to attend the feast - well, its quite out of the question, you know what hes like, utterly uncivilized, cant see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghosts council - the Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance - but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down. The Bloody Baron was the Slytherin ghost, a gaunt and silent specter covered in silver bloodstains. He was the only person at Hogwarts who could really control Peeves. Yeah, we thought Peeves seemed hacked off about something, said Ron darkly. So what did he do in the kitchens. Oh the usual, said Nearly Headless Nick, shrugging. Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup. Terrified the house-elves out of their wits - Clang. Hermione had knocked over her golden goblet. Pumpkin juice spread steadily over the tablecloth, staining several feet of white linen orange, but Hermione paid no attention. There are house-elves here. she said, staring, horror-struck, at Nearly Headless Nick. Here at Hogwarts. Certainly, said Nearly Headless Nick, looking surprised at her reaction. The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred. Ive never seen one. said Hermione. Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they. said Nearly Headless Nick. They come out at night to do a bit of cleaning. see to the fires and so on. I mean, youre not supposed to see them, are you. Thats the mark of a good house-elf, isnt it, that you dont know its there. Hermione stared at him. But they get paid. she said. They get holidays, dont they. And - and sick leave, and pensions, and everything. Nearly Headless Nick chortled so much that his ruff slipped and his head flopped off, dangling on the inch or so of ghostly skin and muscle that still attached it to his neck. Sick leave and pensions. he said, pushing his head back onto his shoulders and securing it once more with his ruff. House-elves dont want sick leave and pensions. Hermione looked down at her hardly touched plate of food, then put her knife and fork down upon it and pushed it away from her. Oh cmon, Er-my-knee, said Ron, accidentally spraying Harry with bits of Yorkshire pudding. Oops - sorry, Arry - He swallowed. You wont get them sick leave by starving yourself. Slave labor, said Hermione, breathing hard through her nose. Thats what made this dinner. Slave labor. And she refused to eat another bite. The rain was still drumming heavily against the high, dark glass. Another clap of thunder shook the windows, and the stormy ceiling flashed, illuminating the golden plates as the remains of the first course vanished and were replaced, instantly, with puddings. Treacle tart, Hermione. said Ron, deliberately wafting its smell toward her. Spotted dick, look. Chocolate gateau. But Hermione gave him a look so reminiscent of Professor McGonagall that he gave up. When the puddings too had been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard. said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. Now that we are all fed and watered, (Hmph. said Hermione) I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filchs office, if anybody would like to check it. The corners of Dumbledores mouth twitched. He continued, As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year. What. Harry gasped. He looked around at Fred and George, his fellow members of the Quidditch team. They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak. Dumbledore went on, This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts - But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open. A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every check this out in the Great Hall swiveled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook article source a long steam family on steam of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers table. A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Hermione gasped. The lightning had thrown the mans face into sharp relief, and it was a face unlike any Harry had ever seen. It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces are supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with players games concurrent chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the mans eyes that made him frightening. One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye - and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the mans head, so that all they could see was whiteness. The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words Harry couldnt hear. He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side. The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark gray hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students. May I introduce our new Defense Against the Please click for source Arts teacher. said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. Professor Moody. It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students clapped except Dumbledore and Hagrid, who both put their hands together and applauded, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by Moodys bizarre appearance to do more than stare Apex domain alias him. Moody. Harry muttered to Ron. Mad-Eye Moody. The one your dad went to help this morning. Must be, said Ron in a low, awed voice. What happened to him. Hermione whispered. What continue reading to his face. Dunno, Ron whispered back, watching Moody with fascination. Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his traveling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, and took a long draught from it. As he lifted his arm to drink, his cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground, and Harry saw, below the table, several inches of carved wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot. Dumbledore cleared his throat. As I was saying, he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year. Youre JOKING. said Fred Weasley loudly. The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moodys arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively. I am not joking, Mr. Weasley, he said, though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar. Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly. Er - but maybe this is not the time. no. said Dumbledore, where was I. Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament. well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely. The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued. Death toll. Hermione whispered, looking alarmed. But her anxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of students in the Hall; many of them were whispering excitedly to one another, and Harry himself was far more interested in hearing about the tournament than in worrying about deaths that had happened hundreds of years ago. There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament, Dumbledore continued, none of which has been very successful. However, our own Departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger. The Heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their shortlisted contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money. Im going for it. Fred Weasley hissed down the table, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. He was not the only person who seemed to be visualizing himself as the Hogwarts champion. At every House table, Harry could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore, or else whispering fervently to their neighbors. But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more. Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts, he said, the Heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This - Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious - is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion. His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Freds and Georges mutinous faces. I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen. The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime. Chop chop. Dumbledore sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody. There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall. They cant do that. said George Weasley, who had not joined the crowd moving toward the door, but was standing up and glaring at Dumbledore. Were seventeen in April, why cant we have a shot. Theyre not stopping me entering, said Fred stubbornly, also scowling at the top table. The championsll get to do all sorts of stuff youd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money. Yeah, said Ron, a faraway look on his face. Yeah, a thousand Galleons. Come on, said Hermione, well be the only ones left here if you dont move. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George set off for the entrance hall, Fred and George debating the ways in which Dumbledore might stop those who were under seventeen from entering the tournament. Whos this impartial judge whos going to decide who the champions are. said Harry. Dunno, said Fred, but its them well have to fool. I reckon a couple of drops of Aging Potion might do it, George. Dumbledore knows youre not of age, though, said Ron. Yeah, but hes not the one who decides who the champion is, is he. said Fred shrewdly. Sounds to me like once this judge knows who wants to enter, hell choose the best from each school and never mind how old they are. Dumbledores trying to stop us giving our names. People have died, though. said Hermione in a worried voice as they walked through a door concealed behind a tapestry and started up another, narrower staircase. Yeah, said Fred airily, but that was years ago, wasnt it. Anyway, wheres the fun without a bit of risk. Hey, Ron, what if we find out how to get round Dumbledore. Fancy entering. What dyou reckon. Ron asked Harry. Be cool to enter, wouldnt it. But I spose they might want someone older. Dunno if weve learned enough. I definitely havent, came Nevilles gloomy voice from behind Fred and George. I expect my grand want me to try, though. Shes always going on about how I should be upholding the family honor. Ill just have to - oops. Nevilles foot had sunk right through a step halfway up the staircase. There were many of these trick stairs at Hogwarts; it was second nature to most of the older students to jump this particular step, but Nevilles memory was notoriously poor. Harry and Ron seized him under the armpits and pulled him out, while a suit of armor at the top of the stairs creaked and clanked, laughing wheezily. Shut it, you, said Ron, banging down its visor as they passed. They made their way up to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, which was concealed behind a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress. Password. she said as they approached. Balderdash, said George, a prefect downstairs told me. The portrait swung forward to reveal a hole in the wall through which they all climbed. A crackling fire warmed the circular common room, which was full of squashy armchairs and tables. Hermione cast the merrily dancing flames a dark look, and Harry distinctly heard her mutter Slave labor, before bidding them good night and disappearing through the doorway to the girls dormitory. Harry, Ron, and Neville climbed up the last, spiral staircase until they reached their own dormitory, which was check this out at the top of the tower. Five four-poster beds with deep crimson hangings stood against Apex domain alias walls, each with its owners trunk at the foot. Dean and Seamus were already getting into bed; Seamus had pinned his Ireland rosette to his headboard, and Dean had tacked up a poster of Viktor Krum over his bedside table. His old poster of the West Ham football team was pinned right next to it. Mental, Ron sighed, shaking his head at the completely stationary soccer players. Harry, Ron, and Neville got into their pajamas and into bed. Someone - a house-elf, no doubt - had placed warming pans between the sheets. It was extremely comfortable, lying there in bed and listening to the storm raging outside. I might go in for it, you know, Ron said sleepily through the darkness, if Fred and George find out how to. the tournament https://beststrategygames.cloud/steam-deck/steam-deck-fsr-3-frame-generation.php. you never know, do you. Spose not. Harry rolled over in bed, a series of dazzling new pictures forming in his minds eye. He had hoodwinked the impartial judge into believing he was seventeen. he had become Hogwarts champion. he was standing on the grounds, his arms raised in triumph in front of the whole school, all of whom were applauding and screaming. he had just won the Triwizard Tournament. Chos face stood out particularly clearly in the blurred crowd, her face glowing with admiration.
Then I expect shes feeling confused because she liked Cedric and now she likes Harry, fallout 4 settlement exclamation mark happiness she cant work out who she likes best. Then shell be feeling guilty, thinking its an insult to Cedrics memory to be kissing Harry at all, and shell be worrying about what everyone else might say about her if she starts going out with Harry. And she probably cant work out what her feelings toward Harry are anyway, because he was the one who was with Cedric when Cedric died, so thats all very mixed up and painful. Oh, and shes afraid shes going to be thrown off the Ravenclaw Quidditch team because shes been flying so badly. A slightly stunned silence greeted the end of this speech, then Ron said, One person cant feel all that at once, theyd explode. Just because youve got the emotional range of a teaspoon doesnt mean we all have, said Hermione nastily, picking up her quill again. She was the one who started it, said Harry. I wouldntve - she just sort of came at me - and next thing shes crying all over me - I didnt know what to do - Dont blame you, mate, said Ron, looking alarmed at the very thought. You just had to be nice to her, said Hermione, looking up anxiously. You were, werent you. Well, said Harry, an unpleasant heat creeping up his face, I sort of - patted her on the back a bit. Hermione looked as though she was restraining herself from rolling her eyes with extreme difficulty. Well, I suppose it could have been worse, she said. Are you going to see her again. Ill have to, wont I. said Harry. Weve got D. meetings, havent we. You know what I mean, said Hermione impatiently. Harry said nothing. Hermiones words opened up a whole new vista of frightening possibilities. He tried to imagine going somewhere with Cho - Hogsmeade, Steam room derby - learn more here being alone with her for hours at a time. Of course, she would have been expecting him to ask her out after what had just happened. The thought made his stomach clench painfully. Oh well, said Hermione distantly, buried in her letter once more, youll have plenty of opportunities to ask her. What if he doesnt want to ask las vegas apex tournament. said Ron, who had been watching Harry with an unusually shrewd expression on his face. Dont be silly, said Hermione vaguely, Harrys liked her for ages, havent you, Harry. He did not answer. Yes, this web page had liked Cho for ages, but whenever he had imagined a scene involving the two of them it had always featured a Cho who was enjoying herself, as opposed to a Cho who was sobbing uncontrollably into his shoulder. Whore you writing the novel to anyway. Ron asked Hermione, trying to read the bit of parchment now trailing on the floor. Hermione hitched it up out of sight. Viktor. Krum. How Steam room derby other Viktors do we know. Ron said nothing, but looked disgruntled. They sat in silence for another twenty minutes, Ron finishing his Transfiguration essay with many snorts of impatience and crossings-out, Hermione writing steadily to the very end of the parchment, rolling it up carefully and sealing it, and Harry staring into the fire, wishing more than anything that Siriuss head would appear there and give him some advice about girls. But the fire merely crackled lower and lower, until the red-hot embers crumbled into ash and, looking around, Harry saw that they were, yet again, the last in the common room. Well, night, said Hermione, yawning widely, and she set off up the girls staircase. What does she see in Krum. Ron demanded as he and Harry climbed the boysstairs. Well, said Harry, considering the matter, I spose hes older, isnt he. and hes an international Quidditch player. Yeah, but apart from that, said Ron, sounding aggravated. I mean hes a grouchy git, isnt he. Bit grouchy, yeah, said Harry, whose thoughts were still on Cho. They pulled off their robes and put on pajamas in silence; Dean, Seamus, and Neville were already asleep. Harry put his glasses on his bedside table and got into bed but did not pull Steam room derby hangings closed around his four-poster; instead he stared at the patch of starry sky visible through the window next to Nevilles bed. If he had known, this time last night, that in twenty-four hours Steam room derby he would have kissed Cho Chang. Night, grunted Ron, from somewhere to his right. Night, said Harry. Maybe next time. if there was a go here time. shed be a bit happier. He ought to have asked her out; she had probably been expecting it and was now really angry with him good apex predator key removed. or was she lying in bed, still crying about Cedric. He did not know what to think. Hermiones explanation had made it all seem more complicated rather than easier to understand. Thats what they should Steam room derby us here, he thought, turning over onto his side, how girls brains work. itd be more useful than Divination anyway. Neville snuffled in his sleep. An owl hooted somewhere out in the night. Harry dreamed he was back in the D. room.
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