Chapter 16 The Goblet Of Fire

I don't believe it!” Ron said, in a stunned voice, as the Hogwarts students filed back up the steps behind the party from Durmstrang. “Krum, Harry! Viktor Krum!”

“For heaven's sake, Ron, he's only a Quidditch player,” said Hermione.

“Only a Quidditch player?” Ron said, looking at her as though he couldn't believe his ears. “Hermione - he's one of the best Seekers in the world! I had no idea he was still at school!”

As they recrossed the entrance hall with the rest of the Hogwarts students heading for the Great Hall, Harry saw Lee Jordan jumping up and down on the soles of his feet to get a better look at the back of Krum's head. Several sixth-year girls were frantically searching their pockets as they walked -

“Oh I don't believe it, I haven't got a single quill on me -”

“D'you think he'd sign my hat in lipstick?”

“Really,” Hermione said loftily as they passed the girls, now squabbling over the lipstick.

“I'm getting his autograph if I can,” said Ron. “You haven't got a quill, have you, Harry?”

“Nope, they're upstairs in my bag,” said Harry.

They walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat down. Ron took care to sit on the side facing the doorway, because Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students were still gathered around it, apparently unsure about where they should sit. The students from Beauxbatons had chosen seats at the Ravenclaw table. They were looking around the Great Hall with glum expressions on their faces. Three of them were still clutching scarves and shawls around their heads.

“It's not that cold,” said Hermione defensively. “Why didn't they bring cloaks?”

“Over here! Come and sit over here!” Ron hissed. “Over here! Hermione, budge up, make a space -”

“What?”

“Too late,” said Ron bitterly.

Viktor Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students had settled themselves at the Slytherin table. Harry could see Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle looking very smug about this. As he watched, Malfoy bent forward to speak to Krum.

“Yeah, that's right, smarm up to him, Malfoy,” said Ron scathingly. “I bet Krum can see right through him, though…bet he gets people fawning over him all the time.…Where d'you reckon they're going to sleep? We could offer him a space in our dormitory, Harry…I wouldn't mind giving him my bed, I could kip on a camp bed.”

Hermione snorted.

“They look a lot happier than the Beauxbatons lot,” said Harry. The Durmstrang students were pulling off their heavy furs and looking up at the starry black ceiling with expressions of interest; a couple of them were picking up the golden plates and goblets and examining them, apparently impressed.

Up at the staff table, Filch, the caretaker, was adding chairs. He was wearing his moldy old tailcoat in honor of the occasion. Harry was surprised to see that he added four chairs, two on either side of Dumbledore's.

“But there are only two extra people,” Harry said. “Why's Filch putting out four chairs, who else is coming?”

“Eh?” said Ron vaguely. He was still staring avidly at Krum.

When all the students had entered the Hall and settled down at their House tables, the staff entered, filing up to the top table and taking their seats. Last in line were Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime. When their headmistress appeared, the pupils from Beauxbatons leapt to their feet. A few of the Hogwarts students laughed. The Beauxbatons party appeared quite unembarrassed, however, and did not resume their seats until Madame Maxime had sat down on Dumbledore's left-hand side. Dumbledore remained standing, and a silence fell over the Great Hall.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and - most particularly - guests,” said Dumbledore, beaming around at the foreign students. “I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable.”

One of the Beauxbatons girls still clutching a muffler around her head gave what was unmistakably a derisive laugh.

“No one's making you stay!” Hermione whispered, bristling at her.

“The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast,” said Dumbledore. “I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!”

He sat down, and Harry saw Karkaroff lean forward at once and engage him in conversation.

The plates in front of them filled with food as usual. The house-elves in the kitchen seemed to have pulled out all the stops; there was a greater variety of dishes in front of them than Harry had ever seen, including several that were definitely foreign.

“What's that?” said Ron, pointing at a large dish of some sort of shellfish stew that stood beside a large steak-and-kidney pudding.

“Bouillabaisse,” said Hermione.

“Bless you,” said Ron.

“It's French,” said Hermione, “I had it on holiday summer before last. It's very nice.”

“I'll take your word for it,” said Ron, helping himself to black pudding.

The Great Hall seemed somehow much more crowded than usual, even though there were barely twenty additional students there; perhaps it was because their differently colored uniforms stood out so clearly against the black of the Hogwarts’ robes. Now that they had removed their furs, the Durmstrang students were revealed to be wearing robes of a deep bloodred.

Hagrid sidled into the Hall through a door behind the staff table twenty minutes after the start of the feast. He slid into his seat at the end and waved at Harry, Ron, and Hermione with a very heavily bandaged hand.

“Skrewts doing all right, Hagrid?” Harry called.

“Thrivin',” Hagrid called back happily.

“Yeah, I'll just bet they are,” said Ron quietly. “Looks like they've finally found a food they like, doesn't it? Hagrid's fingers.”

At that moment, a voice said, “Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?”

It was the girl from Beauxbatons who had laughed during Dumbledore's speech. She had finally removed her muffler. A long sheet of silvery-blonde hair fell almost to her waist. She had large, deep blue eyes, and very white, even teeth.

Ron went purple. He stared up at her, opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out except a faint gurgling noise.

“Yeah, have it,” said Harry, pushing the dish toward the girl.

“You ‘ave finished wiz it?”

“Yeah,” Ron said breathlessly. “Yeah, it was excellent.”

The girl picked up the dish and carried it carefully off to the Ravenclaw table. Ron was still goggling at the girl as though he had never seen one before. Harry started to laugh. The sound seemed to jog Ron back to his senses.

“She's a veela!” he said hoarsely to Harry.

“Of course she isn't!” said Hermione tartly. “I don't see anyone else gaping at her like an idiot!”

But she wasn't entirely right about that. As the girl crossed the Hall, many boys’ heads turned, and some of them seemed to have become temporarily speechless, just like Ron.

“I'm telling you, that's not a normal girl!” said Ron, leaning sideways so he could keep a clear view of her. “They don't make them like that at Hogwarts!”

“They make them okay at Hogwarts,” said Harry without thinking. Cho happened to be sitting only a few places away from the girl with the silvery hair.

“When you've both put your eyes back in,” said Hermione briskly, “you'll be able to see who's just arrived.”

She was pointing up at the staff table. The two remaining empty seats had just been filled. Ludo Bagman was now sitting on Professor Karkaroff's other side, while Mr. Crouch, Percy's boss, was next to Madame Maxime.

“What are they doing here?” said Harry in surprise.

“They organized the Triwizard Tournament, didn't they?” said Hermione. “I suppose they wanted to be here to see it start.”

When the second course arrived they noticed a number of unfamiliar desserts too. Ron examined an odd sort of pale blancmange closely, then moved it carefully a few inches to his right, so that it would be clearly visible from the Ravenclaw table. The girl who looked like a veela appeared to have eaten enough, however, and did not come over to get it.

Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again. A pleasant sort of tension seemed to fill the Hall now. Harry felt a slight thrill of excitement, wondering what was coming. Several seats down from them, Fred and George were leaning forward, staring at Dumbledore with great concentration.

“The moment has come,” said Dumbledore, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. “The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket -”

“The what?” Harry muttered.

Ron shrugged.

“- 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” - there was a smattering of polite applause - “and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports.”

There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps because of his fame as a Beater, or simply because he looked so much more likable. He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand. Bartemius Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced. Remembering him in his neat suit at the Quidditch World Cup, Harry thought he looked strange in wizard's robes. His toothbrush mustache and severe parting looked very odd next to Dumbledore's long white hair and beard.

“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.”

At the mention of the word “champions,” the attentiveness of the listening students seemed to sharpen. Perhaps Dumbledore had noticed their sudden stillness, for he smiled as he said, “The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch.”

Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall, now approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students; Dennis Creevey actually stood on his chair to see it properly, but, being so tiny, his head hardly rose above anyone else's.

“The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman,” said Dumbledore as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, “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.”

At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing.

“As you know, three champions compete in the tournament,” Dumbledore went on calmly, “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.”

Dumbledore now took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames.

Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall.

“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,” said Dumbledore, “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. Good night to you all.”

“An Age Line!” Fred Weasley said, his eyes glinting, as they all made their way across the Hall to the doors into 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!”

“But I don't think anyone under seventeen will stand a chance,” said Hermione, “we just haven't learned enough…”

“Speak for yourself,” said George shortly. “You'll try and get in, won't you, Harry?”

Harry thought briefly of Dumbledore's insistence that nobody under seventeen should submit their name, but then the wonderful picture of himself winning the Triwizard Tournament filled his mind again.…He wondered how angry Dumbledore would be if someone younger than seventeen did find a way to get over the Age Line.

“Where is he?” said Ron, who wasn't listening to a word of this conversation, but looking through the crowd to see what had become of Krum. “Dumbledore didn't say where the Durmstrang people are sleeping, did he?”

But this query was answered almost instantly; they were level with the Slytherin table now, and Karkaroff had just bustled up to his students.

“Back to the ship, then,” he was saying. “Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?”

Harry saw Krum shake his head as he pulled his furs back on. “Professor, Ivood like some vine,” said one of the other Durmstrang boys hopefully.

“I wasn't offering it to you, Poliakoff,” snapped Karkaroff, his warmly paternal air vanishing in an instant. “I notice you have dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting boy -”

Karkaroff turned and led his students toward the doors, reaching them at exactly the same moment as Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Harry stopped to let him walk through first.

“Thank you,” said Karkaroff carelessly, glancing at him.

And then Karkaroff froze. He turned his head back to Harry and stared at him as though he couldn't believe his eyes. Behind their headmaster, the students from Durmstrang came to a halt too. Karkaroff's eyes moved slowly up Harry's face and fixed upon his scar. The Durmstrang students were staring curiously at Harry too. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw comprehension dawn on a few of their faces. The boy with food all down his front nudged the girl next to him and pointed openly at Harry's forehead.

“Yeah, that's Harry Potter,” said a growling voice from behind them.

Professor Karkaroff spun around. Mad-Eye Moody was standing there, leaning heavily on his staff, his magical eye glaring unblinkingly at the Durmstrang headmaster.

The color drained from Karkaroff's face as Harry watched. A terrible look of mingled fury and fear came over him.

“You!” he said, staring at Moody as though unsure he was really seeing him.

“Me,” said Moody grimly. “And unless you've got anything to say to Potter, Karkaroff, you might want to move. You're blocking the doorway.”

It was true; half the students in the Hall were now waiting behind them, looking over one another's shoulders to see what was causing the holdup.

Without another word, Professor Karkaroff swept his students away with him. Moody watched him until he was out of sight, his magical eye fixed upon his back, a look of intense dislike upon his mutilated face.

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As the next day was Saturday, most students would normally have breakfasted late. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, however, were not alone in rising much earlier than they usually did on weekends. When they went down into the entrance hall, they saw about twenty people milling around it, some of them eating toast, all examining the Goblet of Fire. It had been placed in the center of the hall on the stool that normally bore the Sorting Hat. A thin golden line had been traced on the floor, forming a circle ten feet around it in every direction.

“Anyone put their name in yet?” Ron asked a third-year girl eagerly.

“All the Durmstrang lot,” she replied. “But I haven't seen anyone from Hogwarts yet.”

“Bet some of them put it in last night after we'd all gone to bed,” said Harry. “I would've if it had been me…wouldn't have wanted everyone watching. What if the goblet just gobbed you right back out again?”

Someone laughed behind Harry. Turning, he saw Fred, George, and Lee Jordan hurrying down the staircase, all three of them looking extremely excited.

“Done it,” Fred said in a triumphant whisper to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. “Just taken it.”

“What?” said Ron.

“The Aging Potion, dung brains,” said Fred.

“One drop each,” said George, rubbing his hands together with glee. “We only need to be a few months older.”

“We're going to split the thousand Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins,” said Lee, grinning broadly.

“I'm not sure this is going to work, you know,” said Hermione warningly. “I'm sure Dumbledore will have thought of this.”

Fred, George, and Lee ignored her.

“Ready?” Fred said to the other two, quivering with excitement. “C'mon, then - I'll go first -”

Harry watched, fascinated, as Fred pulled a slip of parchment out of his pocket bearing the words Fred Weasley - Hogwarts. Fred walked right up to the edge of the line and stood there, rocking on his toes like a diver preparing for a fifty-foot drop. Then, with the eyes of every person in the entrance hall upon him, he took a great breath and stepped over the line.

For a split second Harry thought it had worked - George certainly thought so, for he let out a yell of triumph and leapt after Fred - but next moment, there was a loud sizzling sound, and both twins were hurled out of the golden circle as though they had been thrown by an invisible shot-putter. They landed painfully, ten feet away on the cold stone floor, and to add insult to injury, there was a loud popping noise, and both of them sprouted identical long white beards.

The entrance hall rang with laughter. Even Fred and George joined in, once they had gotten to their feet and taken a good look at each other's beards.

“I did warn you,” said a deep, amused voice, and everyone turned to see Professor Dumbledore coming out of the Great Hall. He surveyed Fred and George, his eyes twinkling. “I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours.”

Fred and George set off for the hospital wing, accompanied by Lee, who was howling with laughter, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione, also chortling, went in to breakfast.

The decorations in the Great Hall had changed this morning. As it was Halloween, a cloud of live bats was fluttering around the enchanted ceiling, while hundreds of carved pumpkins leered from every corner. Harry led the way over to Dean and Seamus, who were discussing those Hogwarts students of seventeen or over who might be entering.

“There's a rumor going around that Warrington got up early and put his name in,” Dean told Harry. “That big bloke from Slytherin who looks like a sloth.”

Harry, who had played Quidditch against Warrington, shook his head in disgust.

“We can't have a Slytherin champion!”

“And all the Hufflepuffs are talking about Diggory,” said Seamus contemptuously. “But I wouldn't have thought he'd have wanted to risk his good looks.”

“Listen!” said Hermione suddenly.

People were cheering out in the entrance hall. They all swiveled around in their seats and saw Angelina Johnson coming into the Hall, grinning in an embarrassed sort of way. A tall black girl who played Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Angelina came over to them, sat down, and said, “Well, I've done it! Just put my name in!”

“You're kidding!” said Ron, looking impressed.

“Are you seventeen, then?” asked Harry.

“Course she is, can't see a beard, can you?” said Ron.

“I had my birthday last week,” said Angelina.

“Well, I'm glad someone from Gryffindor's entering,” said Hermione. “I really hope you get it, Angelina!”

“Thanks, Hermione,” said Angelina, smiling at her.

Yeah, better you than Pretty-Boy Diggory, said Seamus, causing several Hufflepuffs passing their table to scowl heavily at him.

“What're we going to do today, then?” Ron asked Harry and Hermione when they had finished breakfast and were leaving the Great Hall.

“We haven't been down to visit Hagrid yet,” said Harry.

“Okay,” said Ron, “just as long as he doesn't ask us to donate a few fingers to the skrewts.”

A look of great excitement suddenly dawned on Hermione's face.

“I've just realized - I haven't asked Hagrid to join S.P.E.W. yet!” she said brightly. “Wait for me, will you, while I nip upstairs and get the badges?”

“What is it with her?” said Ron, exasperated, as Hermione ran away up the marble staircase.

“Hey, Ron,” said Harry suddenly. “It's your friend…”

The students from Beauxbatons were coming through the front doors from the grounds, among them, the veela-girl. Those gathered around the Goblet of Fire stood back to let them pass, watching eagerly.

Madame Maxime entered the hall behind her students and organized them into a line. One by one, the Beauxbatons students stepped across the Age Line and dropped their slips of parchment into the blue-white flames. As each name entered the fire, it turned briefly red and emitted sparks.

“What d'you reckon'll happen to the ones who aren't chosen?” Ron muttered to Harry as the veela-girl dropped her parchment into the Goblet of Fire. “Reckon they'll go back to school, or hang around to watch the tournament?”

“Dunno,” said Harry. “Hang around, I suppose.…Madame Maxime's staying to judge, isn't she?”

When all the Beauxbatons students had submitted their names, Madame Maxime led them back out of the hall and out onto the grounds again.

“Where are they sleeping, then?” said Ron, moving toward the front doors and staring after them.

A loud rattling noise behind them announced Hermione's reappearance with the box of S. P. E.W. badges.

“Oh good, hurry up,” said Ron, and he jumped down the stone steps, keeping his eyes on the back of the veela-girl, who was now halfway across the lawn with Madame Maxime.

As they neared Hagrid's cabin on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the mystery of the Beauxbatons’ sleeping quarters was solved. The gigantic powder-blue carriage in which they had arrived had been parked two hundred yards from Hagrid's front door, and the students were climbing back inside it. The elephantine flying horses that had pulled the carriage were now grazing in a makeshift paddock alongside it.

Harry knocked on Hagrid's door, and Fang's booming barks answered instantly.

“'Bout time!” said Hagrid, when he'd flung open the door. “Thought you lot'd forgotten where I live!”

“We've been really busy, Hag -” Hermione started to say, but then she stopped dead, looking up at Hagrid, apparently lost for words.

Hagrid was wearing his best (and very horrible) hairy brown suit, plus a checked yellow-and-orange tie. This wasn't the worst of it, though; he had evidently tried to tame his hair, using large quantities of what appeared to be axle grease. It was now slicked down into two bunches - perhaps he had tried a ponytail like Bill's, but found he had too much hair. The look didn't really suit Hagrid at all. For a moment, Hermione goggled at him, then, obviously deciding not to comment, she said, “Erm - where are the skrewts.”

“Out by the pumpkin patch,” said Hagrid happily. “They're gettin’ massive, mus’ be nearly three foot long now. On'y trouble is, they've started killin’ each other.”

“Oh no, really?” said Hermione, shooting a repressive look at Ron, who, staring at Hagrid's odd hairstyle, had just opened his mouth to say something about it.

“Yeah,” said Hagrid sadly. “S’ okay, though, I've got ‘em in separate boxes now. Still got abou’ twenty.”

“Well, that's lucky,” said Ron. Hagrid missed the sarcasm.

Hagrid's cabin comprised a single room, in one corner of which was a gigantic bed covered in a patchwork quilt. A similarly enormous wooden table and chairs stood in front of the fire beneath the quantity of cured hams and dead birds hanging from the ceiling. They sat down at the table while Hagrid started to make tea, and were soon immersed in yet more discussion of the Triwizard Tournament. Hagrid seemed quite as excited about it as they were.

“You wait,” he said, grinning. “You jus’ wait. Yer going ter see some stuff yeh've never seen before. Firs’ task…ah, but I'm not supposed ter say.”

“Go on, Hagrid!” Harry, Ron, and Hermione urged him, but he just shook his head, grinning.

“I don’ want ter spoil it fer yeh,” said Hagrid. “But it's gonna be spectacular, I'll tell yeh that. Them champions're going ter have their work cut out. Never thought I'd live ter see the Triwizard Tournament played again!”

They ended up having lunch with Hagrid, though they didn't eat much - Hagrid had made what he said was a beef casserole, but after Hermione unearthed a large talon in hers, she, Harry, and Ron rather lost their appetites. However, they enjoyed themselves trying to make Hagrid tell them what the tasks in the tournament were going to be, speculating which of the entrants were likely to be selected as champions, and wondering whether Fred and George were beardless yet.

A light rain had started to fall by midafternoon; it was very cozy sitting by the fire, listening to the gentle patter of the drops on the window, watching Hagrid darning his socks and arguing with Hermione about house-elves - for he flatly refused to join S.P.E.W. when she showed him her badges.

“It'd be doin’ ‘em an unkindness, Hermione,” he said gravely, threading a massive bone needle with thick yellow yarn. “It's in their nature ter look after humans, that's what they like, see? Yeh'd be makin’ ‘em unhappy ter take away their work, an’ insutin’ ‘em if yeh tried ter pay ‘em.”

“But Harry set Dobby free, and he was over the moon about it!” said Hermione. “And we heard he's asking for wages now!”

“Yeah, well, yeh get weirdos in every breed. I'm not sayin’ there isn't the odd elf who'd take freedom, but yeh'll never persuade most of ‘em ter do it - no, nothin’ doin', Hermione.”

Hermione looked very cross indeed and stuffed her box of badges back into her cloak pocket.

By half past five it was growing dark, and Ron, Harry, and Hermione decided it was time to get back up to the castle for the Halloween feast - and, more important, the announcement of the school champions.

“I'll come with yeh,” said Hagrid, putting away his darning. “Jus’ give us a sec.”

Hagrid got up, went across to the chest of drawers beside his bed, and began searching for something inside it. They didn't pay too much attention until a truly horrible smell reached their nostrils. Coughing, Ron said, “Hagrid, what's that?”

“Eh?” said Hagrid, turning around with a large bottle in his hand. “Don’ yeh like it?”

“Is that aftershave?” said Hermione in a slightly choked voice.

“Er - eau de cologne,” Hagrid muttered. He was blushing.

“Maybe it's a bit much,” he said gruffly. “I'll go take it off, hang on…”

He stumped out of the cabin, and they saw him washing himself vigorously in the water barrel outside the window.

“Eau de cologne?” said Hermione in amazement. “Hagrid?”

“And what's with the hair and the suit?” said Harry in an undertone.

“Look!” said Ron suddenly, pointing out of the window. Hagrid had just straightened up and turned ‘round. If he had been blushing before, it was nothing to what he was doing now. Getting to their feet very cautiously, so that Hagrid wouldn't spot them, Harry, Ron, and Hermione peered through the window and saw that Madame Maxime and the Beauxbatons students had just emerged from their carriage, clearly about to set off for the feast too. They couldn't hear what Hagrid was saying, but he was talking to Madame Maxime with a rapt, misty-eyed expression Harry had only ever seen him wear once before - when he had been looking at the baby dragon, Norbert.

“He's going up to the castle with her!” said Hermione indignantly. “I thought he was waiting for us!”

Without so much as a backward glance at his cabin, Hagrid was trudging off up the grounds with Madame Maxime, the Beauxbatons students following in their wake, jogging to keep up with their enormous strides.

“He fancies her!” said Ron incredulously. “Well, if they end up having children, they'll be setting a world record - bet any baby of theirs would weigh about a ton.”

They let themselves out of the cabin and shut the door behind them. It was surprisingly dark outside. Drawing their cloaks more closely around themselves, they set off up the sloping lawns.

“Ooh it's them, look!” Hermione whispered.

The Durmstrang party was walking up toward the castle from the lake. Viktor Krum was walking side by side with Karkaroff, and the other Durmstrang students were straggling along behind them. Ron watched Krum excitedly, but Krum did not look around as he reached the front doors a little ahead of Hermione, Ron, and Harry and proceeded through them.

When they entered the candlelit Great Hall it was almost full. The Goblet of Fire had been moved; it was now standing in front of Dumbledore's empty chair at the teachers’ table. Fred and George - clean-shaven again - seemed to have taken their disappointment fairly well.

“Hope it's Angelina,” said Fred as Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down.

“So do I!” said Hermione breathlessly. “Well, we'll soon know!”

The Halloween feast seemed to take much longer than usual. Perhaps because it was their second feast in two days, Harry didn't seem to fancy the extravagantly prepared food as much as he would have normally. Like everyone else in the Hall, judging by the constantly craning necks, the impatient expressions on every face, the fidgeting, and the standing up to see whether Dumbledore had finished eating yet, Harry simply wanted the plates to clear, and to hear who had been selected as champions.

At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state; there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall, which died away almost instantly as Dumbledore got to his feet. On either side of him, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Ludo Bagman was beaming and winking at various students. Mr. Crouch, however, looked quite uninterested, almost bored.

“Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision,” said Dumbledore. “I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions’ names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber” - he indicated the door behind the staff table - “where they will be receiving their first instructions.”

He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting.…A few people kept checking their watches…

“Any second,” Lee Jordan whispered, two seats away from Harry.

The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it - the whole room gasped.

Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white.

“The champion for Durmstrang,” he read, in a strong, clear voice, “will be Viktor Krum.”

“No surprises there!” yelled Ron as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Harry saw Viktor Krum rise from the Slytherin table and slouch up toward Dumbledore; he turned right, walked along the staff table, and disappeared through the door into the next chamber.

“Bravo, Viktor!” boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. “Knew you had it in you!”

The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused again on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.

“The champion for Beauxbatons,” said Dumbledore, “is Fleur Delacour!”

“It's her, Ron!” Harry shouted as the girl who so resembled a veela got gracefully to her feet, shook back her sheet of silvery blonde hair, and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.

“Oh look, they're all disappointed,” Hermione said over the noise, nodding toward the remainder of the Beauxbatons party. “Disappointed” was a bit of an understatement, Harry thought. Two of the girls who had not been selected had dissolved into tears and were sobbing with their heads on their arms.

When Fleur Delacour too had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement you could almost taste it. The Hogwarts champion next…

And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.

“The Hogwarts champion,” he called, “is Cedric Diggory!”

“No! ” said Ron loudly, but nobody heard him except Harry; the uproar from the next table was too great. Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly, and headed off toward the chamber behind the teachers’ table. Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again.

“Excellent!” Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down. “Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real -”

But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him.

The fire in the goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.

Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out -

“Harry Potter.”

　霍格瓦彻的学生排队，跟着丹姆斯安学生上楼。罗恩十分震惊，“我不信！哈利，那是克伦，维特。克伦！”

　　“看在老天爷的份上，罗恩，他只不过是个玩快迪斯球的。”荷米恩说。

　　“只不过是个玩快迪斯的？”罗恩看看她，简直不敢相信他的耳朵，“荷米恩——可是世界上最优秀的搜寻者之一哪！我根本就不知道他居然还在学校里。”

　　他们跟着其他的霍格瓦彻学生穿过人口大厅，朝大会堂走去。

　　哈利看见李·乔丹光着脚板窜上跳下，只为了更好地看看克伦的后脑勺。九个六年级的女生一边走一边发狂地掏口袋——“天哪，难以致信，我竟然一支笔都没带——”，“你想他愿意用口红在我的帽子上签名吗？”

　　“啊，真的呀！”荷米恩极夸地叫道。他们经过那群女生，她们现在正在为那支口红争吵。

　　“可以的话，我也要去找他签名。”罗恩说，“哈利，你没有带笔，是不是？”

　　“带了，在我的书包上层。”哈利说。

　　他们走到格林芬顿桌边，坐了下来，罗恩特意坐在对着门的那一边，因为克伦和他的同伴们还围在门边，很显然他们要坐在哪里还不确定。从比尔贝顿来的学生已经在卫文卡罗桌坐下。她们神情沮丧，四处张望，打量这个大厅。有三个人还牢牢拽着头巾、披肩不放。

　　“没有那么冷吧，”荷米恩看着他们，有些烦躁。“她们干嘛不把斗篷带来呢？”

　　“过来！过来坐这！”罗恩轻嘘，“这里！荷米恩，移进一点，挤出点位置——”

　　“干嘛？”

　　“太迟了。”罗恩很沮丧。

　　维特。克伦和他的同学已经在史林德林那桌坐下了。哈利看得出克来伯和高尔对此非常得意。马尔夫俯身向前跟克伦说话。

　　“是了，没错，拍他的马屁吧，马尔夫，”罗恩讥讽道，“我敢打赌克伦一眼就看透他，尽管……当然他身边总是有人奉承他……你认为他们会睡在哪？我们可以在宿舍里给他腾出点地方来，哈利……把我的床给他睡我都不介意，我可以睡折叠床。”

　　荷米恩对此嗤之以鼻。

　　“看来他们比比尔贝顿那伙人高兴多了。”哈利说。

　　丹姆斯安的学生们在脱他们的厚皮衣，还颇有兴趣地看那星星闪烁的黑色天花板。其中一两个拿起金盘，高脚杯，仔细观看，显然很受感染。

　　职员桌那边，管理员费驰在加椅子，为此盛事他穿上了那件都发霉了的破燕尾服。看见他在丹伯多的椅子两旁各加了两把椅子，哈利很惊讶。

　　“但是只多了两个人呀，”哈利说，“费驰干嘛要摆四把椅子呢？

　　还有谁要来呢？“

　　“什么？”罗恩茫然地问，他还在热切地盯着克伦看。

　　所有学生进了大厅，在各自的桌边坐定之后，职员们进来，排队上桌坐好。排在队末的有丹伯多教授，卡克罗夫教授和玛西姆——比尔贝顿学校的女校长。她一出现，比尔贝顿的学生都跳了起来。

　　霍格瓦彻的一些学生笑起来。弄得她们挺尴尬的，没敢坐下直到玛西姆夫人在丹伯多左边的位置坐定后，她们才坐下。而丹伯多还站着，巨厅里鸦雀无声。

　　“女士们，先生们，鬼魂们——特别是客人们，晚上好，”丹伯多，朝外校学生们微笑，“非常欢迎大家到霍格瓦彻来。我希望我也相信在这里你们会过得舒舒服服，开开心心。”

　　一个比尔贝顿女生，她还抓着头上的围巾，发出一声冷笑，肯定是冷笑。

　　“没人强迫你留下来！”荷米恩低声朝她怒吼。

　　“盛夏之后比赛正式开始，”丹伯多宣布，“现在请大家不要客气，尽请吃喝吧。”

　　他坐下来，哈利看到卡克罗夫马上靠了过去跟他说话。

　　跟平时一样他们面前的碟子装满了食物。看来厨房里的小精灵门把所有的储藏都拿出来了。哈利还从没见过这么多各式各样的菜肴，其中有几道菜显然是舶来品。

　　“那是什么？”罗恩指着摆在一大碟肾丝布丁旁的一盘贝类似的炖菜。

　　“鱼羹。”荷米恩回答。

　　“上帝保佑。”罗恩说。

　　“是法国菜，”荷米恩说，“前年夏天度假时我吃过，很好吃的。”

　　“我相信你的话。”罗恩说，动手吃起黑布丁。

　　虽说只多了20个学生，可大厅却显得比往常拥挤多了。可能是因为穿着不同颜色的校服的缘故。脱去皮衣之后，丹姆斯安的学生们露出了暗红色的袍子，比霍格瓦彻学生穿的黑袍子抢服多了。

　　宴会开始20分钟之后，哈格力从职员桌后面的门挤进来，溜到他在末端的位子。向哈利、罗恩和荷米恩挥了挥他那扎着厚厚绷带的手。

　　“史库斯们表现还不错吧？哈格力。”哈利喊。

　　“棒极了！”哈格力高兴地回答。

　　“是啊，我早就说过他们会很棒的。”罗恩平静地说，“看来他最终还是找到他们喜欢吃的食物了，不是吗？是哈格力的手指头。”

　　这时一个声音响起，“对不起，你们还要这鱼羹吗？”

　　那个在丹伯多讲话时冷笑的比尔贝顿女孩问。她终于摘掉头巾，露出一片亮闪闪的金发，头发几乎长及腰际。她有一双深蓝的大眼睛，一口洁白整齐的牙齿。

　　罗恩满脸通红，仰头瞪着她，张嘴想回答，可除了模糊的咕噜声，他一句话也说不出。

　　“哦，拿去吧，”哈利说，把那碟菜推给女孩。

　　“你们吃过了吧？”

　　“是啊，”罗恩几乎喘不过气来，“是啊，味道好极了。”

　　女孩端起盘子小心翼翼地朝卫文卡罗桌走去。罗恩还在盯着女孩看，好像从来没见过女人一样。哈利笑了起来，这一笑才把罗恩惊醒，回过神来。

　　“她是个维拉！”他对哈利说，声音沙哑。

　　“她当然不是！”荷米恩酸溜溜地。“我没见到还有谁像个白痴一样瞪着她看的。”

　　可她说的并不完全正确。女孩穿过大厅时。许多男孩都回头看她。有些跟罗恩一样目瞪口呆。

　　“我跟你说，那绝不是个普通女孩！”罗恩往边上靠了靠，好清楚地看到她，“在霍格瓦彻，她们可不会使他们这样！”

　　“在霍格瓦彻，她们使他们一切正常。”哈利想都没想就说了。卓刚巧坐在离亮发女孩不远的地方。

　　“等你们俩位把视线收回，”荷米恩轻快地说，“你们就发现是谁到了。”

　　她指指职员席。那两个空位已经坐上人了。露得。巴格蒙坐在卡克罗夫教授旁边，而伯希的上司克劳斯先生则坐在玛西姆夫人旁边。

　　“他们来这里干什么？”哈利很诧异。

　　“三巫师争霸赛是他们组织的，不是吗？”荷米恩说，“我想他们来是想看赛事开幕吧。”

　　第二道菜上来了，他们也注意不少奇怪的布丁。罗恩仔细观察了一种淡白的牛奶冻布丁，然后小心地把它移过右边几英寸，即使从卫文卡罗桌那也能清楚看到的地方。可惜那个维拉女孩像是吃饱了，没有过来拿。

　　金碟子上的菜一扫而光之后，丹伯多又站起来，大厅里充满了一种令人愉快的紧张气氛，哈利兴奋地有些发抖，想接下来会发生的事。离他们不远的地方，弗雷德和乔治往前靠了靠，专注地盯着丹伯多。

　　“这个时刻到了，”丹伯多朝人海中上仰的脸微笑着说：“三巫赛即将开始。在我们拿珠宝箱进来之前，我先说几句。”

　　“拿什么？”哈利嘟嚷了一句。

　　罗恩耸耸肩。

　　“只是解释一下今年我们采取的步骤。首先还是让我为那些不认识他们的朋友的介绍一下：巴地。克劳斯先生，国际魔法合作系系主任。（响起稀稀拉拉的礼貌性掌声），这位是露得。巴格蒙先生，魔法游戏与运动系的系主任。”

　　巴格蒙得到的掌声比克劳斯多，可能是因为他作为追逐者的名声，也可能只是因为他长得更讨人喜欢吧。他愉快地挥手表示感谢。

　　巴地。克劳斯却不同，宣布他的名字时，他不笑也不挥手。哈利想起他在快迪斯世界杯时穿戴整洁的样子，觉得穿上巫师袍后的他看起来怪怪的。跟丹伯多的长发和胡须相比，他那牙刷一样的胡子和明显的头发分界线看起来非常古怪。

　　“在过去的几个月中，为了三巫赛的筹备工作，巴格蒙先生和克劳斯先生废寝忘食地工作。”丹怕多继续说，“他们将与我，卡克罗夫教授及玛西姆夫人一起组成评判选手们努力程度的评委小姐。

　　一提到选手，学生们更是竖起耳朵。

　　可能丹伯多注意他们突然安静下来，就笑着说，“现在，费驰先生，请拿珠宝箱来。”

　　没人注意到费驰已经在大厅角落里呆了多久，他拿着一个古老的镶着珠宝的大盒子朝丹伯多走去。学生们七嘴八舌兴奋地议论开。事实上，为了看得见珠宝箱，丹尼斯。克成都站到椅子上去了，可惜他实在太小个了，还是被别人挡住了视线。

　　“克劳斯先生和巴格蒙先生早已检查过今年冠军们将面临的任务说明书，”在丹伯多说话的当儿，费驰已经小心地把箱子放在他面前的桌子上，“他们已为每一个挑战作了必要的准备。三个任务将贯穿整个学年，他们将用不同的方法检测选手，检测他们的魔法才能，胆量，推理能力，当然还有应对危险的能力。”

　　话音刚落，整个大厅一片寂静，静到好像没人呼吸。

　　“你们知道，将有三位选手参赛。”丹伯多冷静地往下说，“每个参赛学校一名。我们将给各位选手在各项比赛任务中的表现打分。三项比赛任务完成之后，总分最高者获胜。比赛选手将由一位公正无私的选择者——燃烧的高脚杯——选出。”

　　丹伯多拿出魔杖在珠宝箱上敲了三下。盖子嘎吱嘎吱慢慢打开。他把手伸进去拉出一个巨大的粗略削制而成的木杯。若不是木杯边缘跳跃着蓝白火焰，它真的是毫不起眼。

　　丹伯多盖上珠宝箱，小心翼翼把燃烧的高脚杯放在箱子上面，好让大家都能看清楚。

　　“报名者必须在羊皮纸上工工整整写下名字和学校，再把羊皮纸扔到杯子里，”丹伯多说：“有志者请在24小时内将名字投入杯中，明天晚上，也就是万圣节前夕，高脚杯将给出它选中的最有资格代表他们学校的选手名字。今晚高脚杯就放在入口大厅，要报名的都可以进去，为了避免未成年者因为挡不住诱惑报名参加，”丹伯多说，“等高脚杯放入人口大厅之后，我就会在它周围画条年龄线，17岁以下者无法越过该线。最后，我想提醒一下各位，这次大赛不是随随便便想参加就参加的，一旦被燃烧的高脚杯选中，他或她就必须将比赛进行到底。因为把名字放进杯子后自然就结成有约束力的魔力的合约。一旦做了选手就不能改变主意。因此，在把名字扔进杯子之前，一定要考虑清楚你自己是不是真的全心全意准备去拼搏。好了，我想大家该休息了，祝你们晚安。”

　　“一条年龄线！”弗来德。威斯里说，双眼闪闪有光，他们穿过大厅走向进入口大厅。“嗯，那它不就会被年龄剂愚弄了，不是吗？一旦你的名字在那杯中，你就会发笑——它又不知道你有没有17岁。”

　　“但我认为17岁以下的不会有什么机会。”哈利说，“我们学得还不够……”

　　“你自己说，”乔治马上问哈利，“你会想办法进去的，对吧？”

　　哈利想丹伯多说过问岁以下不可以报名的，但不一会他就满脑子是他自己赢得三巫杯赛的奇妙情景。他想象不出丹伯多会有多恼怒，如果他发现有17岁以下的人想出办法越过年龄线……

　　“他在哪里？”罗恩问。他根本就没听他们说话，自顾在人群中寻找克伦，看他怎么样了。“丹伯多没说丹姆斯安人睡哪里吧？”

　　这个问题几乎马上就有了答案，他们现在跟史林德林桌处同一水平面。卡克罗夫刚刚还在催他的学生。

　　“回到船上去。”他说，“维特你怎么样？吃饱没有？要不要我叫人去厨房拿些加了糖和香料的酒来？”

　　哈利看见克伦摇了摇头，在穿皮衣。

　　“教授，我想要些酒。”另一个丹姆斯安男生满怀希望。

　　“我可不是跟你说话。”卡克罗夫厉声说道，他的慈祥的父爱神态马上消失，“我发现你又把食物弄得满衣襟都是，令人恶心的孩子——”

　　卡克罗夫转身领着他的学生朝门走去。刚巧哈利、罗恩和荷米恩也到那。哈利让他先过。

　　“谢谢。”卡克罗夫漫不经心看了他一眼。

　　卡克罗夫惊呆了。他回头盯着哈利，简直不敢相信他的眼睛。

　　在他身后，丹姆斯安的学生也停住。卡克罗夫的眼睛从下到上慢慢打量哈利的脸，最后停在那道疤上。丹姆斯安的学生也好奇地盯着哈利看。从眼角的余光中，哈利看到其中有些人脸上流露恍然大悟的神情。那个袍子前襟粘满食物的男孩轻轻碰了碰他边上的女孩，公然指着哈利的前额。

　　“没错，是哈利·波特。”后面传来咆哮声。

　　卡克罗夫教授转过身来，魔眼莫迪站在那，靠着他的学生，他的魔眼眨也不眨地瞪着丹姆斯安的校长。

　　哈利观察到，卡克罗夫的脸变了颜色，流露出了夹杂着愤怒和恐惧的骇人神色。

　　“你！”他瞪着莫迪，好像不相信自己的眼睛。

　　“我怎么了，”莫迪阴沉沉地说道，“如果你没什么话要对哈利说，卡克罗夫，你就该让个位，你把门给堵住了。”卡克罗夫一言不发，领着他的学生们浩浩荡荡地走开。莫迪望着他走出视线，魔眼再盯他的背影，支离破碎的脸上露出极度厌恶的神情。

　　确实如此，大厅里有半数的学生在他后面等，一个个伸长着脖子想看看究竟是什么引起了阻塞。

　　第二天是星期六，正常来说多数学生会迟些吃早餐。然而不单单是哈利、罗恩和荷米思起得比平常周末还早。他们进入口大厅后发现大厅里早就有力来个人在周围转悠，有的吃着烤面包片，不过个个都在仔细观察那个燃烧的高脚杯。它在大厅中间的那把平时用来放分类帽的凳子上面。它周围的地板捞上了一道细金线，形成了一个以它为圆心，半径为10英尺的圆。

　　“有没有人放名字进去？”罗恩急切地问一个13岁女孩。

　　“那伙丹姆斯安人都放了，”她回答说，“可是我还没有见到有霍格瓦彻人放名字进去。”

　　“我打赌他们中有些人在昨晚我们走后就把名字扔进去了。”哈利说。“是我的话，我也会那样做，我可不想让大家都看到。万一那杯子马上就吐出你的名字可怎么办哪？”

　　有人在他背后笑起来。哈利转过身，看见弗来德、乔治和李·乔丹从楼上冲下来，他们显得特兴奋。

　　“搞定。”弗来德得意洋洋，低声对哈利、罗恩和荷米恩说，“刚刚服下的。”

　　“服什么？”罗恩问。

　　“年龄剂，死脑筋，”弗来德说。

　　“每人一滴。”乔治兴奋地直搓手。“我们只要大几个月就行了。”

　　“我们三个中任何一个赢的话，平分那1千帆船币。”乔丹咧嘴笑。

　　“很难保证有没有效，你知道。”荷米恩告诫道：“我想丹伯多一定也想到这一招了。”

　　弗来德，乔治和李不理她。

　　“准备好了吗？”弗来德问另外两个，兴奋地发抖，“那就来吧，我先上。”

　　哈利看着，极为好奇，弗来德从口袋里扯出一块羊皮纸，写下“弗来德。威史林——霍格瓦彻”然后径直走到那条线边缘，站在那，活动脚踝，像个准备从50英尺高处向下跳的潜水运动员。运动完以后，在众人的注视下，他深深吸了口气，跨了进去。

　　那一瞬间，哈利以为他成功了——乔治一定也这么想，因为他发出一声胜利的叫声，跟着弗来德跳了进去——但在另一瞬间，一阵咝咝声响起，两个双胞胎被猛扔出金线圈中，好像是被一个看不见的掷铅球者扔了出来一样，重重地摔在离圈十尺远的又冷又硬的石地板上，发出了砰砰两声巨响，更倒霉的是两人同时长出了长长的白胡子。

　　整个人口大厅笑成一片，他们自己站起身来互相看了一眼以后，也笑起来。

　　“我早就警告过你们。”一个低沉的忍俊不禁的声音响起，大家转身看到了丹伯多教授正从外面进来。他看了看弗来德和乔治，目露笑意。“我建议你们俩去找波姆弗雷夫人。她已经在照看卫文卡罗的非可芙小姐和海夫巴夫的希马西先生，那两个人也决定要变老一点，不过我得说，他们俩的胡子都没有你们的好。”

　　李·乔丹笑得要命，陪弗来德和乔治去了医院，而哈利、罗恩和荷术恩地咯咯笑着吃早餐去了。

　　早上大厅里的装饰已经更换过了。由于是万圣节前夕，一大群蝙蝠在迷人的顶篷周围拍翅飞舞，成百上千雕刻的南瓜从各个角落窥视众人。哈利朝迪思和西摩斯走去。他们俩正在讨论霍格瓦彻校中那些问岁以上有可能参赛的学生。

　　“有传言说沃林顿一大早就起床把名字扔进去了，”迪思告诉哈利，“就是那个大块头，来自史林德林，长得跟个树獭似的。”

　　哈利跟沃林顿打过快迪斯，他厌恶地摇摇头，“人们可不能要一个来自史林德林的。”

　　“所有的海夫巴夫都在讨论迪格瑞，”西摩斯轻蔑地说。“可我却不认为他有胆拿他那副小白脸冒险。”

　　“听！”荷米恩突然说了一句。

　　人口大厅的人在欢呼，他们都在绕着椅子转，安琪尔。琳娜走进大厅，挺尴尬地咧嘴笑。安琪儿。琳娜，是格林芬顿快迪斯队的追捕者，个子挺高，长得黑黑的她走到他们的这边坐了下来，“好了，搞定，我刚刚把名字放过去！”

　　“你开玩笑！”罗恩很惊奇。

　　“那你满17岁啦？”哈利问。

　　“那废话，她没长出胡子，是吧？”罗恩说。

　　“我上星期才过的生日。”安琪儿。琳娜说。

　　“嗯，我很高兴，格林芬顿总算有人报名了，”荷米恩说，“我真希望你能被选中，安琪儿琳娜。”

　　“谢谢你，荷米恩。”安琪儿。琳娜朝她笑了笑。

　　“没错，你总比那个金苍蝇彼格理强。”西摩斯说的这话，惹得几个经过他们的桌的海夫巴夫学生朝他大皱眉头。

　　罗恩问哈利和荷米恩，“那我们吃完早餐离开大厅。今天干什么？”

　　“我们还没拜访过哈格力呢。”哈利说。

　　“好吧。”罗恩说，“只要他别叫我贡献几个手指给那些史库斯就行了。”

　　荷米恩的脸上突然兴奋起来。

　　“我刚刚才发觉，我还没叫哈格力加入S.P.E.W呢！”她高兴地说，“等等我，行吗？我赶快上楼拿徽章盒。”

　　荷米恩沿着大理石阶跑上楼时，罗恩恼怒地说：“她像个什么？”

　　“嘿，罗恩，”哈利突然说，“那是你的朋友……”

　　那些比尔贝顿的学生从外面走进前门。那个维拉女孩也在其中。燃烧的高脚杯周围的人们都给她们退出一条路，大家急切地看着。

　　玛西姆夫人跟在她的学生后面进了大厅。她把学生排成一列纵队。然后她们就一个接一个地跨进年龄圈，把羊皮纸扔进蓝白的火焰中。每个名字一进林，杯火马上就变红，还溅出火花。

　　“你想，那些没被选中的人会怎么样呢？”当那个维拉女孩把她的名字扔进火里的时候，罗恩跟哈利低语：“他们是回校呢还是留下来看比赛？”

　　“不太清楚。”哈利说，“我猜会留下来吧……玛西姆夫人不是要留下来做裁判吗？”

　　所有的比尔贝顿学生报名之后，玛西姆夫人又领他们出大厅进了场地。

　　罗恩朝前门移了移，盯着她们看。“那她们睡哪儿？”他问。

　　他们身后的嘎嘎声表明荷米恩已经拿好装S.P.E.W徽章的盒子出来了。

　　“哦，行了，快点吧。罗恩边说边从石阶上跳下来。他两眼还盯着那个维拉女孩的背影，她现在和玛西姆夫人走在横穿草坪的路上。

　　他们靠近禁忌森林边上哈格力的小屋。比尔贝顿宿营地的秘密解许了。载他们来的巨大粉蓝马车就停在离哈格力小屋前门200码处。学生们正在上车。拉车的巨型飞马在边上临时搭起的围场里吃草。

　　哈利敲敲哈格力的门，弗兰应道，他推开门看谁在敲门，发现是他们就说，“我以为你们这群家伙忘了我住哪了！”

　　“哈格力，我们真的很忙。”荷米恩才开口就马上又打住了。她抬头看哈格力，一句话也说不出了。

　　哈格力穿着他最好（也很可怕）的毛绒绒的褐色外套，系了条黄橙相间的格子领带。这还不算太糟。糟的是他显然用大量的像是轮轴润滑油的东西擦头企图理顺头发，可能他已经试过扎比尔那种马尾辫，可惜头发太多了，弄不成又把头发扎成两股，直垂下来。这种装扮根本就不适合哈格力。荷米恩朝他咯咯笑了好一会儿。然后，强忍住不对此作任何评价，问道，“嘿，史库斯在哪？”

　　“到南瓜地附近去了，”哈格力愉快地说，“他们长得越来越大了，现在大概有了六英尺那么长。唯一的麻烦是他们开始互相屠杀。”

　　“哦，天，真的吗？”荷米恩边说边给罗恩丢了眼神，叫他别对此发表言论。

　　“是啊，”哈格力难过的说，“不过没关系，现在我把他们隔开放在不同的盒子里。大概足有20个。”

　　“哦，挺幸运的。”罗恩说。哈格力没听出他的话外音。

　　哈格力的小屋只有一个房间，房间的角落有张大床，床上罩着用碎布拼成的褥子。火炉前面，摆了张大桌和几把椅子，天花板上挂了大量的熏火腿和死鸟，正好吊在桌子上方。他们坐在桌边，哈格力开始泡茶。他们很快就沉浸于三巫赛的讨论之中。看来哈格力对此跟他们一样兴奋。

　　“你们等着瞧。”他笑着说，“只要等着，就会看到一些你从来没见过的东西。第一个任务……啊，我不能说。”

　　“说吧，哈格力。”哈利、罗恩和荷米恩催他，可他只是唉声摇头。

　　“我不想因你们坏了规矩？”哈格力说，“但我可以告诉你们，场面将十分壮观。我从没想到我还能活到再看一次三巫赛。”

　　他们最后跟哈格力一起吃早餐，吃得不多。哈格力做了他所谓牛肉沙锅菜，荷米恩在莱里发现一个大爪子，三人顿时胃口全无。他们喜欢叫哈格力告诉他们比赛中将有什么任务，也喜欢推测报名者中哪些可能被选中。他们也想着弗来德和乔治的胡子去掉没有。

　　下午三时左右天空开始飘起雨，哈利坐在火边，听雨滴敲打窗户发出的温柔的塔塔声，再看哈格力边补袜子，边同荷米恩争论有关佣人小精灵们的事之后，当她拿徽章给他看后，他断然拒绝加入S.P.E.W.这一切真是很惬意。

　　“这对他们很残酷，荷米恩，”他神情严肃，拿黄色的粗沙线穿巨骨针。“照顾人类是他们的天性，是他们喜欢做的，付钱给他们，那就更是对他们天大的污辱了。”

　　“但是哈利给了多比自由，多比可高兴了。”荷米恩说。“我们听说他开始要求领工资了。”

　　“是啊，不错，在每一种种类中你都可以找到例外，在此我不是说不存在想要自由的古怪精灵，但你永远不可能劝服他们中的多数那样做，不，不可能的，荷米恩。”

　　荷米恩看起来很生气，把她的徽章塞回斗篷。

　　5点半后天黑下来，罗恩、哈利和荷米恩觉得该回城堡去了。不仅仅是为了万圣节晚宴，要主要的是那时将宣布各校选手。

　　“我跟你们一起去。”哈格力说，把他的外线活放到一旁，“请稍候片刻。”

　　他站起身，走到床边，在带抽屉的柜子里摸来摸去找什么东西。

　　对