Harry Potter 04 - Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory.’
    *
    Harry’s trunk was packed; Hedwig was back in her cage on top of it. He, Ron and Hermione were waiting in the crowded Entrance Hall with the rest of the fourth-years for the carriages that would take them back to Hogsmeade station. It was another beautiful summer’s day. He supposed that Privet Drive would be hot and leafy, its flowerbeds a riot of colour, when he arrived there that evening. The thought gave him no pleasure at all.
    ‘’Arry!’
    He looked around. Fleur Delacour was hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. Beyond her, far across the grounds, Harry could see Hagrid helping Madame Maxime to back two of the giant horses into their harness. The Beauxbatons carriage was about to take off.
    ‘We will see each uzzer again, I ’ope,’ said Fleur, as she reached him, holding out her hand. ‘I am ’oping to get a job ’ere, to improve my Eenglish.’
    ‘It’s very good already,’ said Ron, in a strangled sort of voice. Fleur smiled at him; Hermione scowled.
    ‘Goodbye, ’Arry,’ said Fleur, turning to go. ‘It ’az been a pleasure meeting you!’
    Harry’s spirits couldn’t help but lift slightly, as he watched Fleur hurry back across the lawns to Madame Maxime, her silvery hair rippling in the sunlight.
    ‘Wonder how the Durmstrang students are getting back?’ said Ron. ‘D’you reckon they can steer that ship without Karkaroff?’
    ‘Karkaroff did not steer,’ said a gruff voice. ‘He stayed in his cabin and let us do the vork.’ Krum had come to say goodbye to Hermione. ‘Could I have a vord?’ he asked her.
    ‘Oh … yes … all right,’ said Hermione, looking slightly flustered, and following Krum through the crowd and out of sight.
    ‘You’d better hurry up!’ Ron called loudly after her. ‘The carriages’ll be here in a minute!’
    He let Harry keep a watch for the carriages, however, and spent the next few minutes craning his neck over the crowd to try and see what Krum and Hermione might be up to. They returned quite soon. Ron stared at Hermione, but her face was impassive.
    ‘I liked Diggory,’ said Krum abruptly, to Harry. ‘He vos alvays polite to me. Alvays. Even though I vos from Durmstrang – with Karkaroff,’ he added, scowling.
    ‘Have you got a new Headmaster yet?’ said Harry.
    Krum shrugged. He held out his hand as Fleur had done, shook Harry’s hand and then Ron’s.
    Ron looked as though he was suffering some sort of painful internal struggle. Krum had already started walking away when Ron burst out, ‘Can I have your autograph?’
    Hermione turned away, smiling at the horseless carriages which were now trundling towards them up the drive, as Krum, looking surprised, but gratified, signed a fragment of parchment for Ron.
    *
    The weather could not have been more different on the journey back to King’s Cross than it had been on their way to Hogwarts the previous September. There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. Harry, Ron and Hermione had managed to get a compartment to themselves. Pigwidgeon was once again hidden under Ron’s dress robes to stop him hooting continually; Hedwig was dozing, her head under her wing, and Crookshanks was curled up in a spare seat like a large, furry ginger cushion. Harry, Ron and Hermione talked more fully and freely than they had done all week, as the train sped them southwards. Harry felt as though Dumbledore’s speech at the Leaving Feast had unblocked him, somehow. It was less painful to discuss what had happened now. They broke off their conversation about what action Dumbledore might be taking even now to stop Voldemort, only when the lunch trolley arrived.
    When Hermione returned from the trolley and put her money back into her schoolbag, she dislodged a copy of the Daily Prophet which she had been carrying in there.
    Harry looked at it, unsure whether he really wanted to know what it might say, but Hermione, seeing him looking at it, said calmly, ‘There’s nothing in there. You can look for yourself, but there’s nothing at all. I’ve been checking every day. Just a small piece the day after the third task, saying you won the Tournament. They didn’t even mention Cedric. Nothing about any of it. If you ask me, Fudge is forcing them to keep quiet.’
    ‘He’ll never keep Rita quiet,’ said Harry. ‘Not on a story like this.’
    ‘Oh, Rita hasn’t written anything at all since the third task,’ said Hermione, in an oddly constrained voice.