Harry Potter and the Great Old Ones

Chapter 295 Banquet
"My God! My God! My God!" Ron excitedly whispered to Harry, Hermione, and Tyella, "It's Viktor Krum! Viktor Krum!"

Ron's voice grew louder and louder with each shout.

Besides Mrs. Rosie, Durmstrang's principal Karkaroff, the two white-haired girls, and Viktor Krum, there were as many as fifty Durmstrang students who disembarked from the ship, and every one of them, regardless of gender, was wrapped up like a bear.

After a less-than-pleasant conversation between the leaders of the two schools, Durmstrang's bears followed the Hogwarts students into Hogwarts Castle.

"For Merlin's sake, Ron, have some backbone. He's just a Quidditch player," Hermione snapped impatiently.

"Just a Quidditch player?" Ron stared at her, seemingly unable to believe his ears. "Hermione! He's one of the best Seekers in the world! I never imagined he was still a student!"

As they walked through the foyer again with the other Hogwarts students toward the Great Hall, Harry saw Lee Jordan tiptoeing, trying to get a better look at Krum's back. Several sixth-year girls walked along, frantically rummaging through their pockets—

"Oh dear, I can't believe it, I didn't bring a single quill pen with me—"

Do you think he'll sign my hat with his lipstick?

"This is ridiculous!" Hermione said haughtily as the four of them walked past the girls arguing over a lipstick.

“If possible, I want his autographed photo,” Ron said. “You didn’t bring your quill, did you, Harry?”

“No, they’re all upstairs in my backpack,” Harry said.

They went to the Gryffindor table and sat down.

Ron deliberately sat on the side facing the door, because Krum and his Durmstrang alumni were still gathered there, seemingly unsure where they should sit. Beauxbatons' classmates had already chosen seats at the Ravenclaw table. Once seated, they looked around the hall with sullen expressions. Three of them still had their heads tightly wrapped in scarves and headscarves.

“It can’t be that cold,” Hermione said, disgruntled. “Why aren’t they wearing cloaks?”

“Here! Come sit here!” Ron said in a hoarse voice. “Here! Hermione, move aside and make room—”

"What?" Hermione was completely taken aback.

"Alas, it's too late!" Ron said regretfully.

Wickdorkrum and his Durmstrang alumni were already seated at the Slytherin table.

Harry could see that Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were smug about it.

He saw Malfoy leaning over to talk to Krum.

“Ah, that’s right, Malfoy is sucking up to him,” Ron said sarcastically. “I bet Krum saw right through him… I dare say Krum has people fawning over him wherever he goes… Where do you think they’ll sleep? We can offer him a bed in our dorm, Harry… I’d give him my bed and sleep on my cot.”

Hermione snorted softly.

“They look much happier than Bushbatton’s gang,” Harry said.

As Durmstrang's students removed their fur cloaks, they gazed with keen interest at the dark, star-studded ceiling. Two of them even picked up a golden plate and a wine glass, examining them closely, clearly intrigued.

“Don’t worry about Ron,” Tiera said maliciously. “If you want to be friends with Viktor Krum, I can help you.”

"Really?" Ron asked in surprise.

“Of course it’s true,” Tiera said. “I can brew you a love potion and secretly put it in Viktor Krum’s food, so your dear Viktor Krum will be all yours—hahahahaha—seriously Ron, you should look at your face right now, it’s exactly the same as those girls who were fighting over a lipstick!”

Before Tiera could finish speaking, she burst into laughter.

Hermione and Harry laughed along, but Ron seemed a little embarrassed.

“Hey!” Ron called out, annoyed. “There’s nothing shameful about wanting to be friends with Krum!” Over there at the faculty desk, the doorman, Filch, was adding a few chairs—

For this grand occasion, Filch wore his old, moldy tailcoat.

After all the students entered the auditorium and took their seats at their respective college tables, the faculty members also came in and filed to the main guest seats.

Nicholas Lemaître and Mrs. Rosie were also assigned to the faculty seats.

After Nicolas Flamel finished cooking, he was seated next to Dumbledore, right next to him, but there were no cutlery or cutlery placed in front of him.

After all, he was just a remotely controlled alchemical robot; there was no need for him to waste food.

Mrs. Rosie sat at the far right of the faculty seating area, far from Professor McGonagall's seat, but even so, Thiera could sense the strong hostility between the two elderly ladies.

Tiera scratched her eyeball, but after thinking for a moment, she put her hand down.

He didn't think it was reasonable to take out the Dementor's Eye and let it absorb the emotional energy between the two old witches in this situation.

Bringing up the rear were Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff, and Mrs. Maxim.

The three college presidents.

The students of Beauxbatons stood up as soon as they saw their principal appear.

Several Hogwarts students couldn't help but laugh, but the Beauxbatons representatives didn't seem embarrassed at all. They didn't sit down again until Mrs. Maxim sat down to Dumbledore's left.

Dumbledore remained standing until the Great Hall gradually quieted down.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts, and especially distinguished guests from afar," said Dumbledore, smiling at the foreign students. "It is with great joy that I welcome you to Hogwarts. I hope and believe that you will feel comfortable and happy here."

A girl from Beauxbatons, still with her head tightly wrapped in a scarf, let out a cold laugh that was undoubtedly sarcastic.

“Nobody forced you to stay!” Hermione whispered, annoyed by the girl.

"The tournament will officially begin at the end of the banquet," said Dumbledore. "I now invite you all to eat and drink to your heart's content, as if you were in your own home!"

He sat down, and Harry saw Karkaroff and immediately went over to talk to him.

Their plates were piled high with food as usual. The house-elves in the kitchen seemed to have put in their best effort. Harry had never seen such a lavish spread of dishes before him, a diverse array of fare, some of which were undoubtedly foreign.

"What's that?" Ron asked, pointing to a large plate next to a big steak, kidney pudding, and something that looked like a seafood medley.

“French mixed fish soup,” Hermione said.

“Goodness,” Ron said.

“This is French food,” Hermione said. “I had it during the summer vacation two years ago. It was very delicious.”

“I’ll trust you,” Ron said, serving himself some black pudding.

Twenty minutes after the banquet began, Hagrid slipped into the auditorium through a door behind the faculty desk.

He sat at the end of the table in his seat, raised a hand wrapped in many bandages, and waved to Tyella, Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

Thank you Purple Cherry Blossom for casting two fewer monthly votes.
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(End of this chapter)