Harry Potter 04 - Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

will care, ’cos they’ll know he’s not dangerous,’ said Ron, slowly. ‘But … Harry, they’re just vicious, giants. It’s like Hagrid said, it’s in their natures, they’re like trolls … they just like killing, everyone knows that. There aren’t any left in Britain now, though.’
    ‘What happened to them?’
    ‘Well, they were dying out anyway, and then loads got themselves killed by Aurors. There’re supposed to be giants abroad, though … they hide out in mountains mostly …’
    ‘I don’t know who Maxime thinks she’s kidding,’ Harry said, watching Madame Maxime sitting alone at the judges’ table, looking very sombre. ‘If Hagrid’s half-giant, she definitely is. Big bones … the only thing that’s got bigger bones than her is a dinosaur.’
    Harry and Ron spent the rest of the ball discussing giants in their corner, neither of them having any inclination to dance. Harry tried not to watch Cho and Cedric; it gave him a strong desire to kick something.
    When the Weird Sisters finished playing at midnight, everyone gave them a last, loud round of applause, and started to wend their way into the Entrance Hall. Many people were expressing the wish that the ball could have gone on longer, but Harry was perfectly happy to be going to bed; as far as he was concerned, the evening hadn’t been much fun.
    Out in the Entrance Hall, Harry and Ron saw Hermione saying goodnight to Krum before he went back to the Durmstrang ship. She gave Ron a very cold look, and swept past him up the marble staircase without speaking. Harry and Ron followed her, but halfway up the marble staircase, Harry heard someone calling him.
    ‘Hey – Harry!’
    It was Cedric Diggory. Harry could see Cho waiting for him in the Entrance Hall below.
    ‘Yeah?’ said Harry coldly, as Cedric ran up the stairs towards him.
    Cedric looked as though he didn’t want to say whatever it was in front of Ron, who shrugged, looking bad-tempered, and continued to climb the stairs.
    ‘Listen …’ Cedric lowered his voice as Ron disappeared. ‘I owe you one for telling me about the dragons. You know that golden egg? Does yours wail when you open it?’
    ‘Yeah,’ said Harry.
    ‘Well … take a bath, OK?’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Take a bath, and – er – take the egg with you, and – er – just mull things over in the hot water. It’ll help you think … trust me.’
    Harry stared at him.
    ‘Tell you what,’ Cedric said, ‘use the Prefects’ bathroom. Fourth door to the left of that statue of Boris the Bewildered on the fifth floor. Password’s Pine-fresh. Gotta go … want to say goodnight –’
    He grinned at Harry again and hurried back down the stairs to Cho.
    Harry walked back to Gryffindor Tower alone. That had been extremely strange advice. Why would a bath help him to work out what the wailing egg meant? Was Cedric pulling his leg? Was he trying to make Harry look a fool, so Cho would like Cedric even more by comparison?
    The Fat Lady and her friend Vi were snoozing in the picture over the portrait hole. Harry had to yell ‘Fairy lights!’ before he woke them up, and when he did, they were extremely irritated. He climbed into the common room, and found Ron and Hermione having a blazing row. Standing ten feet apart, they were bellowing at each other, each scarlet in the face.
    ‘Well, if you don’t like it, you know what the solution is, don’t you?’ yelled Hermione; her hair was coming down out of its elegant bun now, and her face was screwed up in anger.
    ‘Oh yeah?’ Ron yelled back. ‘What’s that?’
    ‘Next time there’s a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!’
    Ron mouthed soundlessly like a goldfish out of water as Hermione turned on her heel and stormed up the girls’ staircase to bed. Ron turned to look at Harry.
    ‘Well,’ he spluttered, looking thunderstruck, ‘well – that just proves – completely missed the point –’
    Harry didn’t say anything. He liked being back on speaking terms with Ron too much to speak his mind right now – but he somehow thought that Hermione had got the point much better than Ron had.

 
     
— CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR —
     
Rita Skeeter’s Scoop
    Everybody got up late on Boxing Day. The Gryffindor common room was much quieter than it had been lately, many yawns punctuating the lazy conversations. Hermione’s hair was bushy again; she confessed to Harry that she had used liberal amounts of Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion on it