Chapter 113: Competition between schools
Krum's footsteps were approaching.
The day the Triwizard Tournament announcement was posted in the entrance hall, Draco's inexplicable irritability reached its peak.
"Representatives from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will arrive at 6:00 PM on Friday, October 30th. Afternoon classes will end half an hour early. Students are requested to return their backpacks and textbooks to their dormitories and gather in front of the castle to greet our guests and attend the welcoming banquet."
Draco glanced at the notice board and walked away uncomfortably.
Hermione Granger, this heartless girl! Draco thought gloomily.
Since when did she become such an avid fan of Quidditch that she knew everything there was to know?
A Seeker? Merlin, it was obvious she was probably still thinking about Krum at the Quidditch World Cup! Draco remembered all her kind words about him vividly.
He had to think of a way, and couldn't just sit there and wait for death. He was gloomily preparing the antidote requested by Professor Snape, and almost mistook the sleepy beans for mistletoe berries.
"Wait!" Hermione grabbed his hand as he was about to throw it into the cauldron. "Draco, don't put it in!"
"What?" He said absentmindedly, holding her hand with his backhand. The sleepy beans rolled down the gap between his hands and scattered all over the floor with a crackling sound.
"These aren't mistletoe berries, even though they look a bit like them!" Hermione wanted to squat down and pick up the sleepy beans, but found it difficult to achieve this vision - he still stubbornly held her hand.
He unconsciously took her hand, stared down at the shriveled, pearly white beans on the ground for a long time, and murmured, "Yes, you are right, these are the fruits of the sleepy grass. Much larger than the mistletoe berries."
"That's right. How could you make such a stupid mistake? Are you okay? I always feel that you are listless recently. Didn't you get enough rest?" Hermione stared at him and found that there was a disturbing trance on his face.
"Maybe." Draco raised his eyes and looked at her secretly.
Today she had her hair tied up with something like a hairpin, revealing her beautiful neck and soft cheeks. Only a few strands of hair swayed around her ears, tickling his heart.
Hermione blushed. She reminded him softly, "You—you're still holding my hand."
"Oh, yes, that's right." He gave her a drowsy smile and hurriedly let her go to get the mistletoe berries again.
"Actually, let me do it." She eyed him uneasily, then lowered her voice. "Draco, can you rinse out the beaker and the graduated cylinder? I—I think the water's a little cold."
"Of course, of course." He muttered, turning away and clattering the utensils loudly. "You shouldn't touch the water. It's too dangerous."
"Is it my imagination?" Ron said as he rummaged through the bezoar at the table next to them. "I always feel that Draco is a bit of a fool when he is with Hermione."
"No, it's not an illusion," Harry shrugged. "I already knew that. Both of them."
The "heartless girl" that Draco Malfoy often misses - Hermione Granger - has a new hobby: sighing like an idiot in the Gryffindor common room.
Hermione was struggling with one thing: What on earth was Draco making trouble for?
She unconsciously fumbled with Crookshanks in her hands, making its fur even more messy.
Finally, Crookshanks could not bear the humiliation and decided to run away from home. He kicked his hind legs, left Hermione's lap, and turned to the red-haired girl beside him - Ginny Weasley.
"What happened, Hermione? I rarely see you sigh like this." Ginny caressed Crookshanks affectionately and whispered to Hermione, "Usually when you sigh like this, it's because of that Slytherin boy."
"Exactly. I really don't understand him." Hermione unconsciously scribbled on a piece of fresh parchment with her quill. "He's been really off lately. He's always acting erratically, suddenly happy, then unhappy, and he talks in a sarcastic tone. He's always distracted in class, and he almost made the antidote into a pot of life-or-death potion."
"Are you still talking about Draco Malfoy?" Ginny said in surprise. "Isn't he always known for his emotional stability? I heard that he was very calm when he was almost drowned by Professor Moody."
"Yes, he remained quite calm both before and after." There was a sharp edge to Hermione's voice.
She felt annoyed when she talked about it. It seemed that she was the only one who reacted the most to this matter, even more than the person involved.
He acted like it was no big deal and even turned around to comfort her - which made her even more annoyed.
Didn't he hate risk? How could he be so careless about his own life?
"It's strange that he didn't complain to his father. Lucius Malfoy will never miss any opportunity to be aggressive." Ginny curled her lips and said disdainfully.
"I asked him. He said he thought there was a better solution. Apparently he made some kind of deal with the professors, and Professor Moody doesn't bother him anymore," Hermione said thoughtfully.
"Slytherin tactics are standard," Ginny shrugged. "We have Potions classes with Slytherin students—I've heard about their methods. Slytherins will do anything to achieve their goals, sometimes even selling themselves out."
"Don't say that about him. He's not that kind of person. I dare say he's suffered far more than people imagine because of this. He—he hasn't been going to the Black Lake much lately, which used to be his favorite place to relax." Hermione sighed again, "I guess he might be a little afraid of places with a lot of water now."
"Nonsense! I think you're just overly concerned. Isn't Slytherin's dormitory at the bottom of the Black Lake? Doesn't he go back to the dormitory to rest every day?" said Ginny.
Hermione didn't say anything, her mind flashing back to his recent listless demeanor - he always looked sleep-deprived.
Her heart suddenly began to lift. Could it be that he was not sleeping well in his bedroom at the bottom of the black lake?
Ginny looked at her daydreaming look, narrowed her eyes, and said warily, "Hermione, kindness is a good thing. However, I must remind you that you'd better be careful with your sympathy and don't be fooled by his sweet words. Sometimes I feel that he is always pretending to be pitiful to you."
"How can you say that?" said Hermione. "He's always been so gentle and kind to me. It wasn't pity, and it wasn't a lie."
"Oh, Hermione, I admit that he is quite friendly to you, even gentle at times." Ginny recalled the silhouette of the forehead kiss in the tent and still felt that she was not mistaken.
She paused and said bluntly, "But I don't think that's his true nature. Most people wouldn't think he's gentle, they'd just think he's tough. Do you think the Slytherins listen to him so much because he's gentle? Slytherins only admire the strong. They'll listen to whoever can knock them down."
"He does have quite a personality sometimes, even a little rebellious. It's true that those Slytherins have an unreasonable respect for him, and I've never understood why." Hermione held her head, thinking about him, "But he's always been very polite in front of me."
She had struck him once—the blow was still fresh in her memory—but he had never laid a finger on her.
"I think when you look at a person, you can't just look at how he is in front of you, but also how he treats the people around him. Other people's opinions are also very important." Ginny reminded her.
She couldn't help but think of the rumors that spread from the Serpent House, circled around the Badger House, and finally reached the Lion House - Draco Malfoy often cast a curse in the Serpent House, even the girls were not spared.
"If he's so cruel to his roommates and childhood friends, how can you expect him to be a soft-hearted person?" Ginny said meaningfully, trying to sober up her best friend who was hopelessly obsessed with Malfoy.
Hermione glanced at her and said nothing.
She didn't yet understand what Ginny was worried about, but she knew that Ginny cared about her.
But Ginny didn't understand, and neither did those people. They hadn't been through what she and he had been through.
Draco has nothing to do with the word "cold-hearted", he is just too good at hiding it.
He was used to showing others his hard shell and hiding his softness, fragility and helplessness.
Yes, maybe he was hiding some secret that had caused him to be so distracted recently. Hermione stared blankly at the dancing fire in the fireplace, lost in a thousand tangled thoughts.
Hermione Granger was probably the only girl who was so focused on exploring her "good friends from the next door house" that she wasn't interested in the "upcoming students from outside the school."
Over the next week, more and more Hogwarts students woke up from their piles of homework and started talking about one topic again: the Triwizard Tournament.
The castle was being thoroughly cleaned, the suits of armor were gleaming, and the portraits grimaced at the new pink flesh on their faces.
Mr. Filch nervously checked that all the students' shoes were clean, and Blaise and Pansy spent about three hours every day in the common room, excitedly discussing who would compete to be the Champion of Hogwarts, what events would be in the Tournament, and who the upcoming students at Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were.
On October 30th, around six in the afternoon, a huge powder-blue carriage pulled by twelve silver-maned horses flew towards Hogwarts; then a large ship emerged from the Black Lake out of thin air.
During the welcome dinner, Professor Dumbledore, who had been missing from Hogwarts for a long time, finally showed up. Under his enthusiastic introduction, students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang appeared in the Hogwarts Great Hall one by one.
The girls from Beauxbatons attracted the attention of most of the boys, especially Fleur Delacour, whose Veela heritage made many boys obsessed; on the other hand, Viktor Krum from Durmstrang made most of the girls present forget how to breathe normally.
The 18-year-old Krum is still the same as when he appeared in the World Cup, dark and thin, with grayish-yellow skin, a big hooked nose, and two thick eyebrows. He looks like a huge eagle.
His movements on the ground weren't as coordinated and natural as in the air. If you looked closely, you could even see his legs were slightly splayed out, and his shoulders were noticeably bent forward. Yet, he still received the warmest applause from the students.
Just like in his previous life, Krum sat at the Slytherin table and gave the Slytherin students a sinister smile.
When an international soccer star—who happens to be your idol—sits next to you and smiles at you, it's hard not to smile back politely; however, when he's also your romantic rival, you can't smile at him.
Draco could only nod stiffly to Krum, looking as if he was about to laugh, and thought to himself: Draco Malfoy, you are such a loser.
After exchanging a few polite words with Krum, Draco unconsciously glanced towards the Gryffindor table.
Ron and Harry were craning their necks to gaze longingly at the Ravenclaw table where the Beauxbatons students sat. Hermione, on the other hand, was staring intently at the Slytherin table, and like all the other infatuated Hogwarts girls, she was staring straight at him—and at Krum next to him.
Draco suddenly felt that the French fish soup in the spoon was not very fragrant, and even tasted a bit sour.
This heartless girl! Would she be like Pansy's group of crazy girlfriends, busy groping for a lipstick from somewhere and asking Krum to sign it? He thought angrily, pursing his lips.
After a hearty meal and a few drinks, Dumbledore, along with Barty Crouch, Director of the Ministry of Magic's Department of International Cooperation, and Ludo Bagman, Director of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, announced the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament.
Barty Crouch looked a little haggard, perhaps because his scandal had been on the front page of the Daily Prophet for a week straight.
As for Ludo Bagman, he was as energetic as ever, waving to the students who were applauding enthusiastically and appearing very approachable.
"...The one responsible for selecting the champions is an impartial selector, and that is the Goblet of Fire." After Professor Dumbledore finished his long speech, he took out a wooden goblet with blue and white flames dancing in it from a large wooden box inlaid with jewels.
"...After the Goblet of Fire is placed in the hall, I will draw an age line around it... Once the champion is chosen by the Goblet of Fire, he must fight the tournament to the end..." Professor Dumbledore continued.
"Age line!" Draco heard Fred say cheerfully to Lee Jordan as they walked through the entrance hall from the Great Hall. "They'll definitely be fooled by the ageing drug..."
"I hope you will think it over carefully. It's definitely not that simple..." Draco said to George. But it was obvious that his words had little effect.
"We know. Your little girlfriend said the same thing," George said impatiently, asserting himself. "You two are exactly the same in that respect—both equally boring. And yet, we've chosen to give it a try..."
"She's not—" Draco's face flushed slightly, and a kind of happy bubble suddenly appeared in his heart. "Forget it, whatever."
He did not try to persuade the Weasley twins, fearing that they would say more shocking things. He did not immediately return to the Slytherin common room, but went up the stairs and went straight to Professor Dumbledore's office.
"Draco, what makes you rush to the headmaster's office on the first day I return to Hogwarts?" Professor Dumbledore was feeding the phoenix named Fawkes. He turned his head to look at Draco and said with a smile.
"Of course not to condemn your choice of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor..." Draco smiled falsely.
"I heard," Dumbledore said to him kindly. "I have spoken to Professor Moody, and he has promised me that he will never do anything extreme to you in class again."
"Perhaps you should apologize to Professor Snape. As far as I know, Professor Moody has been trying to break into his office and harass him..." Draco's face froze slightly.
Professor Dumbledore said gently, "He does have some prejudice against Professor Snape... Listen, he used to be an overly vigilant Auror, and this attitude may have affected some innocent people. But after all, he is experienced, decisive, and has no psychological burden to do things. No one is more suitable than him to be the professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts at this moment..."
"Is there no one better suited to keep an eye on Harry at this moment?" Draco said pointedly.
Dumbledore smiled slightly, "You are very perceptive."
"In fact, the appointment and dismissal of professors is not the main point I am here to discuss. I came to you because I have a new discovery." Draco was tired of this topic, so he handed him the book with the picture of a phoenix and bones.
A hint of surprise flashed in Professor Dumbledore's eyes. He took the book and began to read it carefully. After a long while, he said slowly, "I understand what you mean. I have heard of this kind of method. So, do you think he might use this method? That means he would go -"
"Gaunt House—I think he'll end up digging up his father's bones—isn't there a cemetery nearby?" Draco said calmly.
According to Lucius in his previous life, the Dark Lord was reborn in the cemetery. Draco had long wanted to tell Dumbledore about this, but he had no evidence that would allow him to tell him without arousing suspicion. Hermione's solution saved him the trouble of explaining himself.
"That's a possibility," Dumbledore mused. "Once the results of the Goblet of Fire Champions come out, I might go to Little Hangleton to check out the situation."
"This brings us to another issue. I think the protection measures of the Goblet of Fire are not strong enough. Someone might be able to sneak through." Draco said hesitantly.
"Who gave you such an idea?" Dumbledore raised his eyes and looked at him with a hint of scrutiny.
Of course, Draco couldn't say that he knew someone would put Harry's name in the Goblet of Fire.
He could only gather some known, seemingly plausible facts to reinforce his point. "Harry's scar hurt during the summer vacation, and he also had that strange dream. I believe he probably told you about it. The Triwizard Tournament has always been dangerous, and people have died in it in history. If someone wanted to harm Harry, they might do something about it - an accident during the competition or something."
"Harry didn't tell me that. But I heard it from someone else," Professor Dumbledore said calmly. Draco knew that someone was probably Sirius Black.
"Then you know he's not safe—"
"Relax. The age limit set by this wand is not so easy to deal with." Dumbledore smiled and stroked the elder wand in his hand, seeming very confident.
"Maybe someone will sneak into Hogwarts." Draco couldn't help but remind Dumbledore again, "Karkaroff is——"
"Draco, I think you are a little overly anxious. I know you are worried about Harry, so I might as well tell you that this school is under strict supervision and we have increased our security. Hogwarts at the moment is not as loose as you think - from the portraits in the castle to the faculty and staff, from the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest to the mermen in the Black Lagoon - there are many eyes watching Harry vigilantly. No longer will a crazy Animagus emerge from nowhere, swagger into Hogwarts, and cause trouble across the age line." Dumbledore said easily.
Draco was slightly surprised when he heard this. He looked up at Dumbledore and saw that the headmasters in the portraits behind him were nodding silently.
"I want to tell you something else. I've made some additional progress in my research on Horcruxes, something I've been busy with all summer. When I return from Little Hangleton, if you're interested, I'd be happy to share it with you." Dumbledore smiled and winked at him, then dismissed him. "Now, please do what a 14-year-old boy should do—cultivate some friendships with your international peers."
Cultivate friendship? To Draco, that was all just empty talk.
Just like in the Quidditch World Cup, people talk about cultivating friendships, but don't the opponents still fight to the death, with blood all over their faces?
Besides, would Madam Maxime or Headmaster Karkaroff have the same idea as Dumbledore?
Isn't the essence of the Triwizard Tournament a competition between schools? Otherwise, why not make it a grand party for all three schools, instead of a competitive tournament filled with dangers and challenges? Draco silently rolled his eyes, saluted the innocent-sounding headmaster, and walked out of the headmaster's office with mixed feelings, sighing.
He was both shocked and worried. Surprised that he hadn't realized the castle's protective measures; worried that Professor Dumbledore might be too naive and overconfident.
Whether it's the definition of the Triwizard Tournament or the safety of the Goblet of Fire, are there really no problems?
Early Saturday morning, when Draco and Hermione walked into the hall one after the other, they saw Professor Dumbledore waving the elder wand smoothly, drawing a golden age line next to the Goblet of Fire.
A tiny line with a radius of ten feet seemed to be a surefire guarantee for keeping the students of Hogwarts safe.
Draco didn't completely trust this line. He spent almost all his time beside the Goblet of Fire. He leaned on an empty bench near the Goblet of Fire, staring at it through the crowd. His face showed the demeanor of a lazy young master, but his eyes were alert.
Hermione, who was sitting next to him studying a spell book, was puzzled by his behavior. She looked up at him while flipping through the pages and said, "I've never seen you so interested in anything... standing by so persistently... Are you planning to try and sneak your name in like George and Fred did?"
"No, that's not the case at all. I have no interest in dying," Draco said quickly. "I'm just curious who will vote."
"Okay." Hermione studied his expression suspiciously. "Draco, have you been having trouble sleeping lately? I see you seem to have dark circles under your eyes."
"Oh, it might be because of the light." He was stunned and said unnaturally.
Hermione shook her head, looking helpless, and continued to read the next page.
Draco wasn't the only one curious about the Goblet of Fire.
The age line of the Goblet of Fire was always crowded with onlookers - almost all the students were extremely new to it - there were students from all four houses, they stood together in a disorderly manner, craning their necks, watching with enthusiasm the senior students cross the age line to vote in their names, and trying to predict "who will be the champion".
At this moment, those who wanted to skirt the rules have all experienced the power of the age line.
George and Fred were thrown out of the golden coil, and long white beards sprouted from their chins. Amidst the laughter of the surrounding students, Hermione said helplessly, "I told them this wasn't a good idea."
"Yeah, if they just ask around a bit, they'll find out that Ravenclaw's Fawcett and Hufflepuff's Summers have already gone to the hospital wing for the same reason." Draco smiled maliciously. "I guess they just want to find an opportunity to see each other with white beards in advance."
Hermione chuckled, putting her book down for a moment and following Draco's gaze towards the crowd.
"Cedric has already scored!" A group of Hufflepuff students were shouting.
"Warrington's got it in early!" That was Pansy Parkinson and her sisters.
"Angelina Johnson scored too!" Gryffindor's Cauldron Killer Seamus Finnigan shouted, "I'd rather it be her than that pretty boy Diggory—" His words were met with angry glares from the Badger House students.
"I don't know why people are so mad," said Hermione in amazement. "I've never seen Hufflepuffs so cranky – they're usually so gentle."
"Winning the Goblet of Fire on behalf of the school is a great honor, especially for Hufflepuffs, who rarely get the chance to achieve any glory and are always in the background. Whether it's the House Cup or the Quidditch Cup, it's always been Slytherin and Gryffindor competing for it." Draco said calmly, "However, I guess even the most moderate students are eager to win glory for their house. Overall, among the students over 17 in each house, Cedric Diggory is the most likely to become a Champion, and they certainly cherish this opportunity."
"You actually think he's a good person?" Hermione asked. "I thought you would support someone from your own house."
"Of course I will support my house—until the Goblet of Fire makes its decision," Draco whispered. "I don't have much friendship with Diggory. However, once the champion is chosen, the whole school must support him, because this is no longer a battle between houses, but a competition between schools."
"I see you're seeing the bigger picture, not just the frame you're looking at," Hermione said admiringly, "when others haven't realized it yet."
"They'll realize it, sooner or later—" Draco said calmly, "once they see how united students from other schools are."
At that moment, the girls from Beauxbatons were lining up, casting their names into the Goblet of Fire one by one. Their presence caused a commotion among the boys watching. When Fleur Delacour cast her name, Ron, who was standing not far in front of Draco, even quacked, but Harry whispered to stop him.
"Wait, why do we have to support him and not her?" Hermione came back to her senses and glared at him.
"Oh, come on, Hermione, could you not be so critical?" Ron, who was passing by her, said unbearably, and squeezed into the crowd in front to find Harry who was watching the fun.
Hermione kept a straight face and ignored Ron's words, just looking at Draco to see how he would react.
"Well, once the champion is chosen, all Hogwarts students must support him," Draco glanced at her and emphasized his tone in agreement, "or support her."
"That's more like it." Hermione nodded with satisfaction and planned to lower her head and continue reading her book.
At this time, accompanied by a commotion, the students of Durmstrang also arrived in an orderly manner. Viktor Krum was the first to throw the ball into the Goblet of Fire, causing a group of girls to scream.
"Who's making all this noise?" Hermione said impatiently, trying to look up to see what was going on over there.
At this moment, Krum had just finished voting for his name, and his gaze seemed to be scanning the bench next to Draco.
"Hermione, please help me look at the dark circles under my eyes." Draco said quickly, "I suddenly remembered that I did not sleep yesterday. You need to help me see if it is too obvious."
"Okay." She immediately gave up looking at the Goblet of Fire and turned her head to look at his eye sockets - she had wanted to get closer to study them for a long time - without getting the chance to meet Krum's gaze.
"It's quite obvious. Do you want to ask Madam Pomfrey for something to apply? Or, can you tell me why you can't sleep?" She said in annoyance, hesitating whether to ask him about his "hydrophobia".
"Yeah, why can't I sleep..." He murmured to Hermione's question, looking at Krum's departing back without answering her directly.
He continued to recline lazily on the bench, smiling at the worried girl, with an expression as smug as Crookshanks after hiding his ball of yarn.