HP Magic Biography

November 11, 2010 Chapter 18 Contents Previous Chapter Next Chapter English Harry woke up on Sunday morning and it took him a while to remember why he was so sad and distressed. Scenes from last night came to mind. He sat up, hung the bed curtains, and was about to talk to Ron, make him believe in himself - only to find that Ron's bed was empty, and he had obviously gone to breakfast.

Harry dressed and walked down the spiral staircase into the common room. As soon as he appeared, the people who had finished breakfast applauded again. To go down to the Great Hall and face the group who made him a hero? I'm afraid the prospects are not very optimistic, but stay here? The Gleeway brothers would corner him and force him to join them. He made up his mind to go to the portrait, pulled it away, and crawled out to find himself facing Hermione.

Hi, she held up the toast wrapped in dining paper in her hand. I got this for you... want to go for a walk? Good idea, said Harry gratefully.

They went downstairs without looking into the hall, walked quickly through the entrance hall, and soon walked on the lawn leading to the small lake. Damsian's boat was moored by the lake, its dark reflection in the water. It was cold in the morning. They ate toast as they walked. Harry told her what happened after he left the Gryffindor table last night. He was greatly relieved to find that Hermione believed what he said without asking.

He told her about being in that room after leaving the hall. She said, Of course I know you didn't sign up yourself, just by the look on your face when you heard Dumbledore announce your name! But the question is who put the name in? Harry, Modi is right Well, I don't think any of the students could do that... they couldn't fool the goblet and Dumbledore's— Did you see Ron? Harry interrupted her.

She hesitated.

Well, I see, he's eating breakfast. Does he still think I signed up myself? No, I don't think so, not really. She was a little embarrassed.

No really, what does that mean? Harry, isn't that obvious? She despaired. He's jealous. Jealous? Harry felt unreasonable. Jealousy of what? He's trying to make a fool of himself in front of the whole school? Well, Hermione explained patiently to him, you know, you always get attention.

I know it's not your fault. Seeing him open his mouth angrily, she added hastily, 'I know you don't want to either, but, uh, you know, at home Ron has to compete with his brothers. You're his best friend, and you're so famous. Whenever everyone pays attention to you, he always quietly backs away. He's suffering, though he never mentions it. This time, I guess, he couldn't take it anymore. Very good, really good. Harry said painfully, Go and tell him that anytime he wants, I'm willing to trade with him, tell him that I welcome him to trade...to trade people's attention to the scar on my forehead... Homey Eun immediately said, I'm not going to tell him anything. Say it yourself, this is the only solution. I'm not going to run around him to mature him. said Harry loudly, startling some owls flying in a nearby tree. Probably won't believe me until I lose my head before he believes I don't like it all.

Stop joking. said Hermione softly. It's no fun at all. ' She seemed nervous. 'Harry, I've been thinking, you know what we're supposed to do, don't you? Something we should do once we get back to the castle? Yeah, give Ron a hard kick and kick him to the— It's a letter to Sirius! You have to tell him what happened. He told you to write to Hogwarts and tell him what happened in Hogwarts. It was likely that he had expected this to happen. I've brought a quill and some parchment. forget it. Harry looked around in case anyone overheard. It was deserted.

He came down to the country just because of my scar. If I told him someone had signed me up for the Triwizard, he'd be surprised if he didn't come to the castle right away. He wants you to tell him, said Hermione. Be firm. Anyway, he's going to know about it. How? There's no way to hide it, Harry. Hermione was serious. This competition is very famous, and you are also very famous. It would be strange if there is no news about your entry in the Daily Prophet. Most of the books in the encyclopedia have your name in it. You know it. Sirius, I'm sure he'd prefer to hear from you. Okay, okay, I'll write to him. Harry threw the last piece of toast into the lake.

They both stood there and watched the piece of bread float for a while on the water, and be sucked into the bottom by a big tentacles sticking out of the water. They go back to the castle.

Whose owl should I use? Harry asked as they went upstairs. He told me not to use Hedwig anymore. Ask Ron, can I borrow it— I don't want to borrow anything from him. Harry flatly refused.

Okay, let's borrow the school one, everyone can use it. They went on Aura Road. Hermione gave Harry a piece of parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink. Harry just sat down against the wall and started writing. She wandered around the long perch, watching the different owls.

Dear Sirius you asked me to write to tell you what happened at Hogwarts. Now I will tell you.

I don't know if you have heard of it, but this year there will be a Three Witching Tournament. I was selected as the fourth contestant on Saturday night. I don't know who put my name in the burning goblet, not me anyway. Another Hogwarts contestant is named Cedric. Diggory, from Helf Buff.

After writing this, he stopped writing and thought about it. He was tempted to tell him the great pressure he had felt inside since last night. But he didn't know how to express it, and finally he dipped his pen and wrote: I wish you and Udbuck all the best - Potter. It's written. He stood up and brushed the flakes off his robe. At this moment, Heiwei flew down and landed on his shoulder, stretching out his claws.

I can't use you, Harry told her, looking around at the hawks, I have to use one of them... Hedwig yelled and flew away from Harry's shoulder, she flew so suddenly, The claws scratched his shoulder. Harry tied the letter to the leg of a barn owl, and she turned away from him, ignoring him. After the barn owl flew away, Harry reached out to pet her, but she gave him a hard peck and flew out of his reach to the rafters.

Ron first, then you, Harry said bitterly, it's not my fault. If Harry thought things would get better once everyone got used to him as a player, he was dead wrong. Very wrong. As soon as he went back to class, he couldn't help bumping into other people. Apparently, like the Gryffindor gang, the others thought Harry had signed up for the competition himself. Unlike the Gryffindors, they weren't happy at all.

Normally, the students of Haifubuff and the students of Gryffindor got along very well, but now, they all became very indifferent, and a class of herbal medicine explained all this. Clearly, Hufflepuff's students felt that Harry was stealing the limelight from their contestants. This may be because they rarely get any honors, so they fight for Cedric, the man who defeated Gryffindor in the Quidditch game and won honors for them. Makemis and Fraley, who usually get along well with Harry, don't talk to him now. Although they still played bouncing ball on the same board, although sometimes they laughed when Harry's bouncing ball came out and hit him in the face. Ron didn't speak to Harry either, and Hermione sat between them, forcing them to talk. Although the two answered her as usual, they did not look at each other. Harry felt that Professor Sburt had alienated him a lot - understandably, she was the leader of Hufflepuff.

Normally, he'd looked forward to Hagrid's class, but Care of Magical Creatures meant meeting Slytherins. This is his first meeting with them as a player.

As expected, Malfoy came to Hagrid's cabin with his usual sneer.

Hey, look, here comes the contestant, he said deliberately to Crabbe and Goyle within Harry's earshot. Have you got an autographed book? Better get an autograph now. I'm afraid he won't live long... Half the Triwizards are dead... How long do you think you'll last, Potter? I guess, the first You're a jerk before ten minutes into a mission. Crabbe and Goyle burst out laughing, sycophanting Malfoy. Malfoy stopped talking, because Hagrid turned out from the back of the house, holding a crumbling tower of wooden boxes, each containing a large Skuss. Terrifyingly, Hagrid began to explain why those Skulls would kill each other, because their imprisoned energy was too high. The solution was for each classmate to put a leash on each Skuss and take him for a walk. The only good thing about this plan was that it completely distracted Malfoy from Harry.

Take this thing for a walk? He looked into the box, disgusted. And where do you put the leash on it? Around the sting, the tail, or the sucker? In the middle, Hagrid said, demonstrating. Well, dragonskin gloves might be worn as a special precaution. Harry—you come and help me keep an eye on the big one...actually his intention was to speak to Harry alone until the others After taking Skuss away, he said to Harry very seriously, Harry, then, are you going to compete as a school player? One of the school's players. ' Harry corrected him.

Hagrid's short-sighted eyes under his bushy brows looked worried. Harry, do you have any idea who put your name in there? You believe I didn't do it? Hearing Hagrid's words, Harry struggled to express his gratitude for it.

Of course I do. Hagrid snorted. If you say it's not you, it's not you. I believe it, Dumbledore believes it, everyone believes it. I really want to know who did it. Harry was in pain.

The two looked at the lawn, the class spread out, and with some effort, the Skuese were three feet long.

Strong and powerful, they are no longer colorless and shellless, but have grown a thick layer of shiny gray armor, they look like giant scorpions, and they also look like elongated crabs. It's a pity that it is still blind.

Now they are robust and almost unruly.

It seems that they are having a good time, huh? Hagrid was quite happy. Harry thought he meant Skuss. His classmates must have been unhappy, because any Skull could jump away with a whoosh at any moment, usually by a few yards. At that time, the person who pulled it would be miserable, and would be pulled to the ground by it. Now there are several people on the ground over there, struggling desperately to stand up.

Well, Harry, I don't know. Hagrid suddenly sighed and looked at him worriedly. School contestants, why did you run into everything? Harry didn't answer, yes, it seemed that everything happened to him. More or less as Hermione had told him on his walk by the lake, which, as far as she could tell, was why Ron didn't speak to him anymore.

The rest of the day at Hogwarts had been terrible for Harry. He has been through similar situations before. It was second grade, and during those months most of the school suspected him of assaulting classmates. But then he had Ron by his side to support him. But now, he thought, if he had a friend like Ron by his side to support him, he could handle all the rest of the school. But if Ron didn't want to talk to him, he wouldn't try to talk him into it. Still, he felt alone, with disgusted looks from all directions.

As much as he hated the attitude of the students in Haifbuff's class, he could understand them, after all, they had their own players to support. And from the Slytherin gang, he hadn't expected anything from them other than malicious insults. Among them he was very unpopular. Because he often helped Gryffindor beat them in Quidditch matches and the Interlibrary Champions Cup. He had expected Ronnie Claw to support him as he had supported Cedric, but he was wrong. Most of Ronnie Claw's classmates believe that he tricked the Burning Goblet into accepting his name in order to make himself more famous.

In fact, Cedric valued the identity of the player more than he did. He was handsome: a straight nose, black hair, gray eyes. It is difficult to say whether it was he or Werther at that time. Keren is more admired. At lunch, Harry saw the group of sixth grade girls who had been frantically looking for Karen's autograph begged Cedric to autograph their schoolbags.

Sirius hasn't replied yet. Heiwei refused to approach him. Professor Troraini more often said that his death was near. And Professor Flitwick's summoning class was getting harder and harder.

His grades were so bad, extra homework, he was the only student besides Neville who had to do extra homework.

After Felitwick's class, Hermione tried to reassure him by saying, Harry, it's really not that difficult. You just didn't pay attention. Think of it as attracting dust boards, wastebaskets, and loony viewers.

I can't figure out what's going on here? said Harry gloomily. A group of laughing girls hugged Cedric. Digory walked past him, looking at him strangely, as if he were an extra-large Skuss. Forget it, I have to take pharmacy class in the afternoon. Pharmacy class has always been scary. Especially these days, everything in class was torture for Harry. To spend an hour and a half in the basement with Snape and the Slytherins was the most unpleasant thing Harry could imagine. Because all of them changed their ways to punish him who dared to be a player. Last Friday he barely made it through with Hermione's constant whispers of leave them alone, leave them alone, leave them alone. It seems that today is not much better.

After lunch, he went down to the basement with Hermione, and found the group of Slytherins gathered around the door, each with a large badge pinned to the front of their robes. chapter. Then he saw the same words written on it in bright red letters that shone against the somber background. It read: Support Cedric. Digory - a real Hogwarts player! Do you like it? Potter. Seeing Harry approaching, Malfoy asked loudly, That's not all, you see— He pressed the chapter on his chest, and the words on it disappeared, and another line appeared. Green lettering: Potter stinks.

They roared with laughter. Everyone presses the badge. Potter stinks. They all lit up, and Harry was surrounded by green light, flushed.

Oh, it's fun. Hermione sarcastically said Bancy. Parkinson and her gang. They laughed louder than anyone else. Pretty smart. Ron stood leaning against the wall with Dean and Seymour, and he didn't laugh, but he didn't defend Harry either.

Grinzo? Want one? He handed one to Hermione. I have plenty! Take it, but don't touch my hands, I just washed them, and you know I don't want a half-breed to get my hands dirty. Harry's anger over the past few days suddenly rushed to his heart . He pulled out his wand without knowing it, and the people around him backed away in the corridor in fright.

Harry! Hermione warned him.

Potter, come on then. Malfoy calmed down and drew out his wand. Now that Modi is not here, he can't take care of you. Come on, if you have the guts to go. In an instant, they looked at each other and shot at the same time.

Farnan Cruz! Harry yelled.

Dengshuo puppet. Malfoy screamed.

The two wands flew into the air, facing each other back and forth from different angles, and sparks flew everywhere. Harry's wand hit Goyle in the face, and Malfoy's hit Hermione. Goyle yelled, covering his nose with his hands, and a disgusting amount of snot flowed from his nose. Hermione cried out in fright, covering her mouth and sobbing.

Hermione! Ron ran in to see what was wrong with her.

Harry turned to see Ron take Hermione's hand from his mouth. She looked unflattering. Her front teeth were already big, but now they were growing at an alarming rate. Her incisors were getting longer and longer, and she looked more like a beaver, reaching her lower lip and down her jaw. Sensing the change, she freaked out, finding cries of fear.

Why so noisy? A dead voice sounded, and Snape came.

The people in the Slytherin class rushed to explain. Snape pointed at Malfoy with a yellow finger, Say. Polly attacked me, teacher. We attacked each other at the same time! Harry cried.

He hit Goyle, you see. Snape looked at Goyle, whose face was like the toadstools in those books at home.

Goyle, go to the hospital. Shi Gangpi calmly ordered.

Malfoy hit Hermione! said Ron. Look! He forced Hermione to show Snape the tooth. She tried to cover her teeth with her hands, but it was difficult because they had grown to her collar. Parkinson and the other girls bent over laughing. They pointed at Hermione behind Snape's back.

Snape gave Hermione a cold look and said, It's no different. Hermione whimpered, her eyes filling with tears. Turn around and run, running up the corridor and disappearing from sight.

Harry and Ron yelled at Snape at the same time. Their voices echoed in the stone hall, deafening. It was so loud and noisy that Snape couldn't hear exactly what they were calling him, but he got the general idea.

Let me see, he said in his softest tone, fifty points. Potter and Weasley each get a week of incarceration. Get in now or another week. Harry's ears were ringing, it was too much. It wasn't fair, he couldn't bear to curse Snape into filthy shards. He passed Snape and Ron to the back of the dungeon, slamming his schoolbag on the table. Ron was also shaking with anger. At that moment, it felt like returning to the past. But Ron turned and left again, sitting with Dean and Seymour, leaving Harry sitting there alone. On the other side of the basement, Malfoy pressed his badge with his back to Malfoy, and smiled smugly. The Potter Stinks light came on again.

Lessons began, and Harry sat staring at Malfoy, imagining all the horrors he was about to encounter. If only he knew the Skruhiltus spell. He would have turned Malfoy into that spider, on all fours, struggling and writhing.

Antidote! Snape looked around, his cold black eyes gleaming uncomfortably. You should all have prepared the secret recipe. I hope you brew it carefully, and we will choose someone to try it later. Snape looked at Harry, and Harry knew what was waiting for him. Snape wanted to poison him. Harry imagined him lifting the cauldron, rushing to the front of the room, and pouring it on Snape's greasy head.

A knock on the door interrupted Harry's thoughts.

It's Colin. He squeezed into the room, smiled at Harry, and walked over to Malfoy, who was standing at the front of the room.

Is something wrong? Snape asked.

Master, I'm going to take Harry Potter upstairs. Snape stared at Colin with his hooked nose down, and his smile faded away.

Potter still has half an hour's potion to brew, Snape said coldly. He'll be upstairs when class is over. Colin blushed.

Mr. Bagmon, old--sensei, was looking for him, he said nervously. All the contestants have to go, and I think they're going to have their pictures... If he could keep Colin from uttering those last words Harry would have given him everything they had if he had. He glanced occasionally at Ron, but Ron was staring intently at the ceiling.

All right, all right, Snape interrupted. Leave your things here, Potter. I want you to come down later and test your antidote. Master—he's got to take them all. Colin whispered, All the contestants— Enough! cried Snape. Porter, get your schoolbag and don't let me see you again. Potter swung his bag over his shoulder, stood up and walked towards the door. As he walked across Slytherin's desk, lights from Potter Stinks shot him from all directions.

As soon as Harry closed the door, Colin started talking, It's amazing, isn't it Harry? You're a contestant! Yeah, it's really amazing, said Harry heavily. They walked up the stairs to the entrance hall. Colin, why do they want pictures? I think it's for the Daily Prophet. Oh. Harry sullenly, Do we really need more public attention? Good luck! In the room on the right, Colin said goodbye to him, and Harry knocked on the door and walked in.

The classroom is quite small, and most of the desks have been moved to the back to leave a large space in the middle. The three of them were already sitting there. A long velvet covered the blackboard, and five chairs were placed behind the velvet-covered desk. Neutrogena. Bagmon sat on one of them, talking to a wizard in a purple shirt. Harry had never seen that wizard before.

Werther. Karen stayed in the corner with a gloomy expression as usual, not talking to anyone. Cedric and Fleur are chatting. Harry had never seen Fleur so happy. She tosses her head from time to time so as to attract attention with her hair. A man with a big belly was holding up a big black camera that was emitting light smoke, and he was rubbing her eyes.

Bagmon suddenly recognized Harry, stood up quickly, and jumped forward, Ha, here he comes! Player four! Come in, Harry, come in, there's nothing to be afraid of, it's just a wand measuring ceremony, the other judges are very Almost there. Wand measurement? Harry repeated nervously.

We must check to make sure that your wands are all right and that there is nothing wrong with them.

Know that they are vital tools for you to accomplish the tasks before you. said Bagmon, the specialist is upstairs now, with Dumbledore. We also have to take a picture. This is Little.

Scott. He added, gesturing to the purple wizard, she wrote in a small story about the contest for the Daily Prophet. Probably not too small, Hodder. Little. Scott kept his eyes on Harry.

Her hair, carefully combed into stiff curls, looked odd compared to her large jaw. She wore a pair of jeweled glasses. The nails are two inches long except for the deep red polish. Fat hands clutched her crocodile bag.

Before we start, I wonder if I could have a word with Harry? she asked Bagmon, still staring at Harry. The youngest contestant, you know... to add some color. Of course! said Bagmon, Harry has no objection? This— Harry hesitated.

Honey, Little said before an instant. Skeeter's scarlet hands had grabbed Harry's arm - her strength was amazing - and carried him out of the room again. She opened the door of the nearest room.

We don't want to be in such a noisy place, she said. Let me see, ah, yes, this place is nice, warm and comfortable. But this is the broom closet. Harry stared at her.

Come on, honey, it's all right, Little said. Skeeter barked again. She herself sat on an upside-down basket, wobbly. She shoved Harry into the closet, closed the door, and they were plunged into darkness. Now look... She opened the crocodile bag, pulled out a small handful of candles, lit them with a flick of her hand, and stayed in mid-air so they could see what they were doing.

Harry, you don't mind if I use a shorthand pen? Then I can talk to you normally. What? She smiled wider. Harry counted that she had three gold teeth. She reached into the purse again, and produced a green quill, and a roll of parchment, which she spread out on a wooden box. In fact, the wooden box is Mrs. Scott's multifunctional magic decontamination device. She put the nib in her mouth, sucked it like something delicious, and set it upright on the parchment.

It stood firmly on it, trembling slightly.

Testing, my name is Little. Scott, and I'm a reporter for the Daily Prophet. Harry looked down at the quill. Little. As soon as Skeeter opened her mouth, the pen began to slide across the parchment, writing: Charming Little. Skeeter, 43 years old, fair hair, her ruthless pen has already exposed many exaggerated reputations. ’” “Excellent,” said Little. Skeeter tore off the top of the parchment, crumpled it up and stuffed it into the bag. She moved closer to Harry and asked, So, Harry, what made you decide to take part in the Triwizard Tournament? This— Harry again. He was fascinated by that pen. Although he didn't say anything, the pen ran back and forth across the parchment, and then he came across a sentence: An ugly scar, a reminder of a tragic past. It ruined Harry Potter's charming face, his eyes... Leave it alone, Harry, said Little Skeeter firmly. Harry looked at her reluctantly. Then, why are you down? Are you determined to sign up for this competition? I don't. said Harry. I don't know how my name got into the burning goblet, I didn't put it in. Little bit Kit and raised her black and thick eyebrows, Say it, Harry, there is no need to worry about getting into trouble, we all know that you shouldn't sign up at all. But don't worry, our readers love rebels. But I didn't sign up, Harry repeated, I don't know who— How do you feel about the task ahead? asked Little Skeeter. Excited? worrying and nervous? I haven't really given it much thought... yes, I think nervousness. When he said this, he felt nervous and uncomfortable.

There have been player deaths in the past, haven't they? Little said. Skeeter said briskly, Have you ever thought about that? Well, they said this year would be safer. The quill was writing quickly on the parchment, back and forth like ice skating.

Of course, you've faced death head-on, haven't you? Little asked. Skeeter watched him closely. How do you think it's affected you? Harry continued, It's— Do you think past trauma has made you more interested in improving yourself? Live up to your name? Do you think you were tempted to sign up for the Three Witches this time maybe because... I didn't sign up. ’ Hart was enraged.

Do you remember your parents? Littleskit said over his head.

Don't remember. What do you think they'll think if they know you're going to the Triwizards? Proud of you? Worried about you? Angry? Harry was really annoyed this time. How did he know what his parents would think, if they were still alive. Sensing her concerned gaze, he frowned, avoided her gaze, and read the sentence he had just written with the pen: When our conversation turned to his parents, whom he had no impression of, his surprisingly green My eyes are watery. I have no tears in my eyes! Harry exclaimed.

Little. Before Scott could say anything, the closet door was pulled open. Harry looked out. It was too bright outside, and he blinked. albers. Dumbledore stood there, looking down at the two men huddled together in the closet.

Dumbledore! Little asked. Skeeter cried out in delight. Harry noticed that her pen and parchment had suddenly disappeared from the Magic Stain Remover. Her crooked fingers frantically closed the crocodile bag. How are you? she asked, standing up and offering Dumbledore a big, big hand.

I'm sure you read my report on the International Council of Wizards meetings I wrote this summer. It's sickeningly good, Dumbledore's eyes sparkled, I especially like that you make me a trite vagrant. Littlesketch was not at all embarrassed, I think some of your ideas are out of date, Dumbledore, with so many wizards on the street... I'd love to hear the reasoning behind your rude comments. Dumbledore He bowed politely and said with a smile, But I'm afraid this issue will be discussed later. The wand measurement ceremony is about to begin. If one of the contestants is hidden in the closet where the broom is kept, it will not be possible to open it. ’” Harry was glad to be free of Little. Scott, he hurried back to the classroom. The other contestants sat on the chairs near the door, and he hurriedly sat down next to Cedric. He saw a table covered with velvet, and four referees sat there: Professor Karkeroff, Mrs. Maxime, Klaus Mr. and Loud. bagmon. Little. Scott chose a seat and sat down. Harry saw her pull the parchment out of her bag again, lay it flat on her lap, suck the nib of her pen, and put it back on the parchment.

Let me introduce you, Mr. Olivier. Dumbledore sat down at the referee's table and said to the players, He will check your wands to make sure they are in good condition before the match begins. Harry looked around, I saw an old wizard standing quietly by the window, his eyes were large but dim. Harry was in shock; he'd seen him before. He was a wandmaker, and he bought his wand from him in Delger Street three years ago.

Miss Dimigo, please come out first. Mr. Olivier said and stood in the middle.

Fleur Dillago strode forward and handed him her wand.

Hmm... He pondered, his slender fingers turning the wand like a baton. There was some pink and gold fire from the wand, and then he brought the wand up to his eyes and looked closely.

Yes, 9.25 inches, not easy to fold, rosewood, and... my God. It uses Ville wool. Fulu said. My grandma's. That's right, said Mr. Olivier, yes, although I've never used Velvet wool in my own wand-making, it's still quite a sensitive wand . . . , as long as it suits you... Mr Olivier ran his fingers along the wand, apparently looking for scratches and bumps. Afterwards he muttered, Archidells! A bouquet of flowers bloomed from the tip of the wand.

Very good, very good, the working condition is not bad. Mr. Olivier took out the flowers and handed them to Fulu together with the wand.

Mr. Diggory, it's your turn. Fulu quietly returned to her seat and smiled at Cedric.

Ha, I made this wand, didn't I? Mr. Olivier took Cedric's wand, looking more enthusiastic. Yeah, I remember it very well, because of a hair that was plucked from the tail of a very nice male unicorn. The male unicorn had 17 hands, and I grabbed his tail and he almost died. Horn me to death. 12.25 inches long, bouncy, nice, working condition. Do you wipe it down regularly? Oiled it last night. Cedric grinned.

Harry looked down at his wand, finger prints were everywhere. He balled up the pads on his knees, trying to surreptitiously wipe his wand clean. Several golden sparks shot from its base.

Flo Tirego glanced at him so haughtily that he dared not wipe again.

Mr. Ollivander issued a string of silver smoke rings from the tip of Cedric's wand, and he was very satisfied, calling: Mr. Cron, it's your turn. Werther. Kron stood up, bowed his head, and hurried towards Oliver, who drew his wand and stood there, frowning, with his hands in his robe pockets.

Well, said Mr. Ollivender, if I'm not mistaken, this one was made by Gryffindor, and he's a pretty good wandmaker. Although his styles were never mine... He raised his hand Wand, turn it around before your eyes, watch very carefully. That's right, hornbeams and dragon heartstrings? He glanced at Karen, who nodded, It's thicker than ordinary ones, quite stable, 10.25 inches... Avis! The goose ears were made There was a shot from his wand, and from the end grew several chirping birds, and they flew out of the window into the bright sunshine.

Very well, said Mr. Ollivender, handing back his wand to Cron. Who's last...Mr. Peter? Hart stood up, walked past Keren to Olivier, and he handed over his wand.

Ah, yes. Oliver's dark eyes lit up. Yes, yes, I still remember. Harry also remembered, as if everything happened yesterday... On his 11th birthday four years ago, Hagrid took him to Olivier's shop to buy a wand. Olivier gave him some wands after fitting him. After he tried it, he felt that all the wands in the store were similar. It wasn't until finally that he found the right wand for him, and it was this one, made of holly wood, 11 inches long, and containing a feather from the tail of a phoenix. It harmonized so well with him that Olivier was amazed. It's amazing, he said, ...it's amazing. Harry then asked him where it was, and Olivier explained that the feather on this wand had absorbed Voldemort's wand. Pulled from the phoenix, the essence of magic.

Harry hadn't told anyone about the secret, he was very fond of the wand, and it seemed to him that it was as inescapably related to Voldemort's wand as he was to Aunt Petunia. same relationship. He really hoped Oliver wouldn't tell anyone in the house about it. If he had said it, Harry thought of Little. He was amused that the Skeeter might explode in excitement.

Oliverde spent a long time examining the wand, and finally, with a spurt of wine from the wand, he handed it back to Harry, saying it was in excellent working order.

Thank you all. Dumbledore stood up. You can go back to class now, or you can go downstairs to dinner, because they're going to finish— After doing something serious today, Harry stood up to go, and the man with the black camera jumped up and cleared voice.

Take a picture, Dumbledore, take a picture! Bagmond exclaimed excitedly. What do you want for a group photo of the referee and the players, Little? This--, well, let's take a group photo first. Little. Skeeter said, staring at Harry again. And then take some single photos. It took a long time. No matter where Maxim stood, she always blocked other people. The photographer had to stand far away to get a picture of her, but the room was too small, so in the end, everyone had to stand while she sat. Karkeroff kept twirling his goatee, trying to curl it a bit. Keren half-hidden, standing behind the crowd. Harry had thought that he was used to this kind of thing. The photographer seemed to like to have Flo in front, but every time Little did. Skeeter was always rushing up to pull Harry into a prominent position. She also insisted on taking solo photos of the contestants. At last I could go.

Harry had gone to dinner, but Hermione wasn't there. He estimated that she was still in the hospital to get her teeth fixed. After dinner alone, he returned to Gryffindor Tower, thinking about the extra homework he had to do for Summoning. In the dormitory, he ran into Ron.

There's an owl waiting for you, said Ron as he entered, pointing to Harry's pillow. The school eagle was there waiting for him.

Oh, said Harry.

We're going to be locked up in Snape's dungeon tomorrow night. After Ron finished speaking, he walked straight away without looking at Harry. At that moment, Harry really wanted to chase him, he didn't know whether he wanted to talk to him or hit him, but both ideas were tempting. Of course Sirius' reply was more enticing in comparison. He went to the Barn Eagle, took down the letter, and opened it.

Harry: Some things are hard to say in letters. It's too dangerous if the owl is intercepted. We need to talk face to face, can you promise to be alone by the fire in Gryffindor on November 22nd at 1:00 am? I know better than anyone that you can take care of yourself. I think as long as you stay around Dumbledore and Moody, no one can hurt you. However, it seems that someone wants to give it a try. You know, it is very dangerous to sign you up for that competition under Dumbledore's nose.

Harry, be on your guard. Hope you keep telling me about anything unusual that happens. Let me know as soon as possible on November 22nd if you can.

. Rowling Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .