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Chapter 543: Welcoming Ceremony

“Of course we thought. I asked Professor 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.”

“I wonder what the tasks are going to be?” said Ron thoughtfully. “You know, I bet we could do them. We’ve done dangerous stuff before…”

Ron followed Harry in the first year to defeat Voldemort, and in the second year he fought in the Chamber of Secrets with the basilisk.

In the first half of last year, he also participated in the rescue of Sirius, and in the final moments defeated Peter Pettigrew.

In the second half of the term, he went with everyone to explore the Centaurs’ colony in the Forbidden Forest, looking for the Philosopher’s Stone left by Gryffindor.

Either of these things was more dangerous than the Triwizard Tournament, and Ron and his friends were really experienced in this regard.

“Yeah, it’s really great, but you didn’t do that in front of a panel of judges, did you?” said Fred, “McGonagall says champions get awarded points according to how well they’ve done the tasks.”

“Who are the judges?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Ministry of Magic officials will be judges.” said Evan, while serving himself porridge.

Hearing Evan’s words, they all turned their heads and looked at him in great surprise.

“This is obvious, isn’t it?!” Evan explained. “The Ministry of Magic has rarely planned such a large-scale event. It is impossible to not come forward. I think one of the judges will be Mr. Crouch, or the Minister of Magic, Fudge himself.”

“Percy must know, but he won’t tell us anything.”

“Yeah, I really want to know, who else will be judge?”

“The Heads of the participating schools would definitely be members on the panel.” Hermione followed.

This time, everyone looked around at her, rather surprised.

“Have you never read a book?!” Hermione explained. “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.”

Hermione took out a thick copy of Hogwarts, a History from her bag and turned it to the middle page.

“It’s all written here, I remember this passage.”

“Do you always carry this book in class?” Harry asked in surprise.

Hermione’s Hogwarts, a History did not look light.

“Because I had to check some information recently, I have read it again. There are a lot of important historical facts in it.” said Hermione, “Though of course, this book is 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?” Ron asked puzzled.

The others were equally confused, but everyone soon knew what she was going to say next. It was about the house- elves again.

“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!”

They kept tacitly silent and stared down at their plates.

Fred and George seemed suddenly extremely interested in their bacon. They were the only ones who had refused to buy a S.P.E.W. badge. At the end of breakfast, Hermione was still tirelessly telling Evan about the current progress of the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare.

In a word, there was a pleasant feeling of anticipation in the air that day.

Nobody was very attentive in class, being much more interested in the arrival of the people from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang that evening. Even Potions and Divination were more bearable than usual, and they were half an hour shorter.

When the bell rang early, Evan, Colin and Ginny hurried up to Gryffindor Tower. They found that Harry, Ron, Hermione, and other young wizards had already returned. They pulled on their cloaks, and rushed back downstairs into the entrance hall.

The Heads of Houses were ordering their students into lines.

“Weasley, straighten your hat; Creevey, tuck your shirt into your pants!” Professor McGonagall snapped at them, “And you, Miss Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair.”

Parvati scowled and removed a large ornamental butterfly from the end of her plait.

“Follow me, please.” said Professor McGonagall, “First years in front … no pushing …” 

They filed down the steps and lined up in front of the castle.

It was a cold, clear evening. Dusk was falling, and a pale, transparent-looking moon was already shining over the Forbidden Forest.

The moonlight was exceptionally bright, interdependent with the castle, creating a beautiful fantastic scenery.

All the teachers and students of the school stood outside the gate, and the ghosts floated slowly over everyone.

Evan, Colin and Ginny followed the other third years in the third row, behind them were Harry, Ron, and Hermione. 

He saw Colin’s younger brother Dennis positively shivering with anticipation among the other first years.

“It’s nearly six o’clock!” said Ron, staring down the drive that led to the front gates. “How are they coming? The train?”

“I doubt it,” said Hermione. “The Hogwarts Express is from London. They can’t assemble there.”

“How, then? Broomsticks?” Harry suggested, looking up at the starry sky.

Hearing what he said, Colin also looked up.

“They won’t do that, from that far away.”

“A Portkey?!” Ron suggested. “Or they could Apparate, maybe you’re allowed to do it under seventeen wherever they come from?”

“Ron, you can’t Apparate inside Hogwarts grounds, how often do I have to tell you?” said Hermione impatiently.

The young wizards scanned the darkening grounds excitedly, but nothing was moving. Everything was still and quiet as usual.

The irrepressible buzz gradually began to ring from the crowd, and everyone felt cold and hungry.

Just when everyone was about to lose patience, Dumbledore called out from the back row where he stood with the other teachers.

“Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!”

“Where?” said many students eagerly, all looking in different directions.

“There!” yelled a sixth year, pointing over the forest.

There was something large, much larger than a broomstick.

Under the silver moonlight, they could see that it was hurtling across the deep blue sky, flying toward the castle, gradually getting larger and larger.

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