Chapter 183
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Albert all heard something through the open door of their compartment.
"…My father is seriously thinking of sending me to Durmstrang instead of Hogwarts. He knows the headmaster there, and you both know what he thinks of Dumbledore that blood traitor who loves Muggle-borns. Durmstrang doesn't allow that nonsense… but Mother doesn't like the idea of me being so far away. Still, Father says Durmstrang doesn't have all these silly restrictions about the Dark Arts. Their students actually learn real magic, not just "
Hermione stood up on tiptoe and quietly slid the door shut to block out Malfoy's voice, saying furiously,
"So he thinks Durmstrang would suit him, does he?! I wish he really would go then we wouldn't have to see him ever again!"
Harry turned to Albert.
"Durmstrang is that one of the other schools that'll be joining the tournament, Albert?"
Albert leaned against the window, watching the rain streak the glass.
"Yes. And it has a terrible reputation, actually. According to A Guide to European Magical Education, they focus heavily on the Dark Arts… and also "
He paused. "Well, never mind."
Hermione immediately sensed he was hiding something. She leaned closer and asked,
"What are you not telling us, Albert? Does it have something to do with that school?"
Finally, Albert said quietly, "The headmaster of Durmstrang, Karkaroff, used to be one of Voldemort's followers."
Everyone froze in shock. Ron flinched, lowering his voice in fear.
"Albert! How many times do we have to tell you not to say his name like that!"
Hermione frowned seriously.
"But how can someone who was one of You-Know-Who's followers still be free?"
Albert turned toward her.
"Yes, it shouldn't be possible. But about fourteen years ago, after Voldem I mean, You-Know-Wh was defeated, the Ministry hunted down all of his followers. They eventually captured Karkaroff, but that scoundrel bought his freedom by betraying the names of his fellow Death Eaters. That's why he's free today."
Ron frowned. "I think I've heard that name before… Where is his school, anyway? What country?"
Hermione raised her eyebrows.
"Well, no one really knows."
Harry blinked. "Why not?"
"Because," Hermione explained, "there's a sort of rivalry between the wizarding schools. Both Durmstrang and Beauxbatons prefer to keep their locations secret, so no one can steal their magical knowledge or protective enchantments."
Ron laughed.
"What are you talking about? A school that size would be as big as Hogwarts! How could anyone hide something like that?"
Hermione replied matter-of-factly,
"Well, Hogwarts is hidden too everyone knows that. I mean, everyone who's read Hogwarts: A History."
Ron groaned. "So only you, then. Fine, tell us how do you hide a place like Hogwarts?"
"It's enchanted," Hermione explained.
"If a Muggle looks at it, all they'll see is a ruined old castle with a sign saying DANGER – DO NOT ENTER."
Ron asked again, wide-eyed,
"So Durmstrang looks like that too?"
"Maybe," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Or maybe it has protective charms like the Quidditch World Cup stadium to keep outsiders from seeing it or even knowing where it is."
Harry added,
"So you can enchant a whole building to make it impossible to appear on a map?"
Hermione nodded. "Exactly."
Harry murmured, "Then Durmstrang must be somewhere in the north it's said to be freezing cold there. They even buy fur cloaks as part of their school uniforms."
Ron smirked dreamily.
"Just imagine Malfoy slipping on the ice that would make my year."
The rain beat harder against the train windows as they sped northward. The sky was dark and the glass fogged with steam. The lunch trolley came rattling down the aisle; Harry bought some pastries for himself and his friends, and Albert bought a cream-filled cake topped with biscuits and shared it with them.
During the journey, several of their friends dropped by Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom, the round-faced boy who was always forgetting things. Neville was still wearing his green Irish Quidditch jersey and soon joined Ron, Harry, and Albert in chatting about the World Cup.
After about half an hour, Hermione grew tired of all the Quidditch talk and buried herself in her Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, practicing a new charm.
Ron, meanwhile, opened his trunk and proudly held up a moving picture of Krum.
"Look, Neville!" he said.
Neville gasped in awe, holding the photo.
"Wow… that's amazing!"
Ron puffed out his chest. "I saw him up close, you know. We sat in the Top Box." He tapped his nose proudly.
Just then, Malfoy's drawling voice came from the doorway.
"For the first and last time in your life, Weasley."
He stood there flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, both broader than ever after the summer. It was obvious they had been eavesdropping.
Harry said coolly,
"I don't remember inviting you to join us, Malfoy."
But Malfoy wasn't listening. He had spotted something Ron's maroon dress robes draped over Pigwidgeon's cage.
"What's that, Weasley?" he sneered.
Ron tried to grab them, but Malfoy was faster. He yanked the sleeve and laughed.
"Look at this! Were you really planning to wear it? That must've been the height of fashion in 1890!"
Ron snatched it back, red-faced, while Malfoy and his hulking shadows laughed loudly.
"So, Weasley," Malfoy sneered, "are you going to enter? Maybe win a bit of glory for your family? There's prize money, too you might finally afford decent clothes if you win!"
He burst out laughing again and turned to leave but before he could, Albert raised his wand and murmured a quick spell. In an instant, Malfoy transformed into a large white ferret, squeaking and wriggling in confusion!
Harry and Ron doubled over laughing. Crabbe and Goyle just gawked, too stunned to move.
Albert lifted his wand higher, levitating the ferret into the air and spinning it gently left and right as he chuckled.
"Enjoying the view, Malfoy?" he teased.
After a few moments, Albert restored him to human form. Malfoy landed hard on his feet, his pale face twisted with fury.
"You'll pay for that!" he shouted. "I'll tell my father! And you two why didn't you help me?!"
He slammed the compartment door so hard it rattled.
Ron was still laughing so hard he could barely speak.
"Thanks, Albert! He was mocking my robes but you really taught him a lesson!"
The group spent the rest of the journey talking and laughing until it was time to change into their school robes. The train gradually slowed and finally stopped at Hogsmeade Station.
The doors opened to a roar of thunder outside. Hermione tucked Crookshanks under her cloak, Ron covered his owl, and Albert cast a Shield Charm over his white owl's cage to keep off the rain.
As they stepped out, heads lowered against the downpour, the rain suddenly stopped. Hermione looked up to see Albert holding his wand high, a shimmering dome of dry air surrounding them.
A booming voice called from the end of the platform,
"HARRY! You all right there?"
"HAGRID!" Harry shouted back.
Hagrid grinned. "Good job, Albert keeping your friends dry. Smart thinking! I'll see yeh all at the feast!"
He turned to gather the first-years for the boats across the lake. Hermione shivered.
"I can't imagine crossing the lake in this weather!"
At the platform's edge stood about a hundred horseless carriages waiting for the older students. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Albert climbed into one together, and within minutes, the carriages were rumbling in a long procession toward the shining towers of Hogwarts Castle.
To be continued...