Chapter 35: Quidditch player!

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After she exchanges a few words with Dumbledore, the Beauxbatons students emerge from the carriage as well. I'm thrown off for a moment when I realize some of them are male, though I should have realized the movie was just being ridiculous when it showed all female students from Beauxbatons and all males from Durmstrang. 

The French students are all shivering since they appear to be wearing quite thin, shiny, powder blue robes. I'm not gonna lie, buried in a sea of anonymity, I allow my eyes to feast unabashedly on one Fleur Delacour.

Note to self: never ever introduce padded bras to the wizarding world.

Only slightly less impressive, once the aforementioned gorgeous witch is tragically ushered inside with her classmates, is the Durmstrang ship pulling the old Flying Dutchman move while looking like the Black Pearl from Pirates of the Carribbean. 

The apparently derelict ship docks and begins to empty, and I see that Karkaroff looks absolutely slimy, as expected. I sidle over toward the trio to catch Ron's reaction at seeing Krum. I'm not disappointed.

"Harry, it's Krum! I don't believe it! Krum, Harry! Viktor Krum!"

"For heaven's sake, Ron, he's only a Quidditch player," Hermione says exasperatedly.

"Only a Quidditch player? Hermione – he's one of the best Seekers in the world! I had no idea he was still at school!"

I shake my head. You'd think having the most famous person in Britain as a best friend would kind of get you used to it.

As we eat some interesting ethnic food in honor of our guests, I watch the foreign students closely...which is to say I spend most of the time watching Fleur. I'd like to think it has nothing to do with the fact that she's quarter Veela, but that's probably not true. 

She actually comes over to the Gryffindor table to get more bouillabaise, and I can proudly say I manage not to do anything to try and get her attention. I don't even drool that much. 

In fact, when Hermione glances around to get a look at how the other boys are acting, I manage to have my mouth closed and roll my eyes when her eyes pass over me. 

Taking advantage of my good luck, I do spare a glance elsewhere...I had forgotten what an ass Karkaroff is to any student who isn't named Viktor Krum. Why did the Death Eater even bother bringing anybody else?

Soon Dumbledore introduces Crouch Sr. and Ludo Bagman, the latter of whom was never in the movies, so I get to see him for the first time. He looks like a bastard. Then the headmaster has Filch roll out a gem-encrusted casket that I don't remember from the movies. 

After tapping the lid with his wand, he pulls out the Goblet of Fire. I gawk along with the rest of the students, and idly I wonder if Crouch Jr. already got to it. I suppose he wouldn't need to do so, since he can use Moody's eye to watch for when the coast is clear.

Actually, that's something. If I sat and watched the Goblet the entire time, would he still do it? Even assuming I could stay awake, getting in his way could be very bad. In any case, I could just be wasting my time if he already put Harry's name in. I need that time to get back in Hermione's good graces so I can be in a position to help Harry.

Now I have to figure out how I'm going to do that.

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Despite racking my brains I don't come up with anything that night, or the next morning during breakfast. I watch Fred and George fail to cross the age line, and it reminds me of my brief pondering about the age line. 

I consider giving it a shot, and I picture myself doing something visually impressive but completely illusory. 

I could sit on the floor just outside of the age line in a pseudo-yoga pose – considering I don't know anything about yoga it wouldn't be a real pose – and put on a similarly awesome light and smoke show like I did for my fake ritual. 

I wonder if I could make myself look like I do in reality to freak everybody out when I grow a couple inches.

But of course, there's no guarantee I'd actually make it over the age line, since the wizarding world itself thinks I'm fifteen at most. And actually, I realize it would be an extremely bad idea, even if I just put on the show and don't try to cross, because then Hermione might blame me for entering Harry's name. Scratch that, she would suspect me, and there would be no coming back from it.

Suddenly I'm very glad I thought that one through.

I finish up early and make my way down to Hagrid's to show him what I've got so far, and maybe get some tips for the picture frames.

"Well hello there, Bud," the half-giant says.

"Hey, Ha—" my greeting is choked off when I see him. He's wearing an enormous brown suit with a checkered orange-and-yellow tie, along with a broad smile. I cough to hopefully cover up any embarrassing outward reactions. "Hey, Hagrid, you're dressed up nice," I say.

"Well thank you, Bud," he says with a blush. "Come on in, have a seat while we have a chat; I'm not quite finished yet. How's your carving coming along?"

"It's going pretty well I think, have a look." I hold out the Quidditch hoop, the bookmark, and the beginnings of the lion medallion. I've got a bit of detail lightly scratched in, but no more.

Hagrid whistles. "Simple work, but clean and even," he says, referring to the bookmark and hoop. Then lightly rub the medallion. "Looks like you're going to get fancy with that one, though."

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