I like cupcakes.

DAMNIT NOW I WANT CUPCAKES!

DAMNIT NOW I DON’T REMEMBER WHAT’S GOING ON!

“I don’t believe it!” Ron said, in a stunned voice. “Krum, Harry! Viktor Krum!” 

Oh that’s what’s going on....

Now I’m annoyed.

SPLIT PERSONALITY!

Don’t punch Ron. Don’t do it Willow. Don’t. Stop it. Don’t punch him.

“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!” 

“Well I bet llamas wouldn’t have his babies anyway.” I said ending the slowly brewed argument.

As we recrossed the entrance hall with the rest of the Hogwarts students heading for the Great Hall, I 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 disdainfully as we 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. 

“Willow?” Ron looked at me pleadingly, but I shook my head.

We 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?” 

“Cause they’re French.” I said

“And that means?”

“It’s their nationality, there is nothing else to it- GOD HERMIONE YOU’RE SO RACIST!” I shouted.

Hermione thumped her head into the table and tried to hide from the world.

“Honestly Willow, do you need to be so embarrassing and stupid?” Harry sighed.

“It’s in genetics, I got the embarrassing part and you got-“I smiled as I spoke.

“Call me stupid, and I will kill you.” Said Harry shortly.

“I wasn’t going to say stupid, I was going to say retarded.”

“Over here! Come and sit over here!” Ron said, clearly not listening to a word we were saying,  as Harry opened his mouth to speak. “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. I could see Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle looking very smug about this.

“How far do you think I could send a stunning curse?” I said absent-mindedly as Malfoy bent forward to speak to Krum.  

“Probably far enough, but McGonagall will kill you.” Harry said as we watched.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Yeah, that’s right, smarm up to him, Malfoy,” said Ron scathingly, not listening to our conversaton. “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. 

“Jesus Ron, Just go over there and offer to suck his-“ I was cut off.

“Willow, for the love of god, don’t finish that sentence.” Hermione said looking as though she was about to seizure.

“They look a lot happier than the Beauxbatons lot,” said Harry hastily, trying to change the topic.

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. 

I FEEL LIKE SINGING.

PROFESSOR MG WILL KILL ME!

“Tralalalalum.” I started humming. “I’m from Hogwarts, yes I am. I like smelling food but I really hate spam!” I shouted the last part, ready to continue, but with the same death glare from Hermione and Professor MG! I fell silent.

Up at the staff table, Filch, the Pedophille, was adding chairs. He was wearing his mouldy old tailcoat in honour of the occasion. I 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, looking up at the table too. “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 three principals; Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime sat down. 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.

I’m sick of calling the great hall the great hall. It needs a new name...

Hall of nom noms?

No, too geeky.

“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 I saw Karkaroff lean forward at once and engage him in conversation. 

The plates in front of us 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 I 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, and I started to laugh.

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

“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. 

“EWW!” I said loudly. “IT’S GROSS!” I pointed toward the bouilla-whatever. I could also have been mistaken, and looked as though I was pointing at Ron.

It works either way.

“Yeah, have it,” said Harry, pushing the dish toward the girl who stared at me like I was crazy.  

“You ‘ave finished wiz it?” 

“No!!!” I shouted dramatically. McGonagall’s gonna kill me, yep, there’s the death glare. I smiled sweetly at her.

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

With a last look at my sexiness, the girl picked up the dish and carried it carefully off to the Ravenclaw table.

“BYE!” I called after her, and I could see McGonagall face palming.

 “She’s a veela!” Ron said hoarsely to Harry.

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

“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.

“Oh my God, you two. EWW!” I said in my normal voice which was unreasonably loud.

“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 we noticed a number of unfamiliar desserts too. I ate random food and it all tasted like random food.

To be honest, I was eating too fast to taste it.

Got a problem? Come at me bro!

At one point, just before the plates cleared, I put the top of my head against Hermione’s so we could look each other in the eye. Without thinking, the pair of us made ‘special’ noises and waved our hands around.

I started laughing, Hermione however looked at me dramatically and said; “What have you done to me?”

Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again. A pleasant sort of tension seemed to fill the Hall now. I felt a slight thrill of excitement, wondering what was coming.

I just said I had a thrill.

That is the gayest thing I have ever thought.

I’m going to go drown myself now.

“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, loudly.  Ron shrugged. 

I however decided that listening to speeches was boring, and I will work out what everyone said tomorrow.

Great Hall, now’s my chance to think of a new word...

Igloo!

I’m off to the Igloo.

Maybe I should call the toilet the igloo... cause it’s like a loo and it’s cold in there...

AHA! I HAVE IT!

THE GREAT HALL WILL NOW BE CALLED THE:

WAIT FOR IT!

Burrito.

I can picture it.

‘Hey Hermione, I’m off to the burrito.’

That actually sounds really sus.

Taco?

Worse.

Tune back in Willow.

“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.

And then there was me, bored and making popping noises when no one was looking.

I’m delightfully different.

“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 a casket. I’m bored. 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.”

And tuning out again.

I think I have adhd.

Skillz.

“-Name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all.”  Dumbledore concluded.

I have no idea what’s going on, but I can go to bed.

“An Age Line!” Fred Weasley said, his eyes glinting, as we all made our 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?” 

“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; we 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?” 

I saw Krum shake his head as he pulled his furs back on.

“Professor, I vood 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 us. Harry and I stopped to let him walk through first.

Such gentlemen.

I just called myself a man.

Shitake mushrooms.

“Thank you,” said Karkaroff carelessly, glancing at us. 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. His eyes then proceeded to follow my face, where I smiled weakly at him.

He began to put two and two together.

“Yeah, that’s Harry Potter and his sister,” said a growling voice from behind us.  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 colour drained from Karkaroff’s face as I 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 us, looking over one another’s shoulders to see what was causing the holdup.  Without another word, Professor Karkaroff swept his students away with him.

“Krum.” Ron mumbled from behind me.

DING! LIGHTBULB MOMENT!

“Oi! Krum! Ron’s in love with you!” I said waving and pointing at Ron.

Ron turned tomato red as Krum turned around.

“Zat eez nize.” Krum smiled before exiting the hall.

“I hate you.” Ron said spitefully to me.

“He smiled.” I added smugly.

“I still hate you.”

“NO YOU LUFF ME!” I yelled before I ran into my dorm.