Harry Potter 04 - Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

think they can’t spot a Mudblood, stay where you are.’
    ‘You watch your mouth!’ shouted Ron. Everybody present knew that ‘Mudblood’ was a very offensive term for a witch or wizard of Muggle parentage.
    ‘Never mind, Ron,’ said Hermione quickly, seizing Ron’s arm to restrain him as he took a step towards Malfoy.
    There came a bang from the other side of the trees that was louder than anything they had heard. Several people nearby screamed.
    Malfoy chuckled softly. ‘Scare easily, don’t they?’ he said lazily. ‘I suppose your daddy told you all to hide? What’s he up to – trying to rescue the Muggles?’
    ‘Where’re your parents?’ said Harry, his temper rising. ‘Out there wearing masks, are they?’
    Malfoy turned his face to Harry, still smiling. ‘Well … if they were, I wouldn’t be likely to tell you, would I, Potter?’
    ‘Oh, come on,’ said Hermione, with a disgusted look at Malfoy, ‘let’s go and find the others.’
    ‘Keep that big bushy head down, Granger,’ sneered Malfoy.
    ‘Come on ,’ Hermione repeated, and she pulled Harry and Ron off up the path again.
    ‘I’ll bet you anything his dad is one of that masked lot!’ said Ron hotly.
    ‘Well, with any luck, the Ministry will catch him!’ said Hermione fervently. ‘Oh, I can’t believe this, where have the others got to?’
    Fred, George and Ginny were nowhere to be seen, though the path was packed with plenty of other people, all of them looking nervously over their shoulders towards the commotion back at the campsite.
    A huddle of teenagers in pyjamas was arguing vociferously a little way along the path. When they saw Harry, Ron and Hermione, a girl with thick, curly hair turned and said quickly, ‘Où est Madame Maxime? Nous l’avons perdue –’
    ‘Er – what?’ said Ron.
    ‘Oh …’ The girl who had spoken turned her back on him, and as they walked on they distinctly heard her say,‘’Ogwarts.’
    ‘Beauxbatons,’ muttered Hermione.
    ‘Sorry?’ said Harry.
    ‘They must go to Beauxbatons,’ said Hermione. ‘You know … Beauxbatons Academy of Magic … I read about it in An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe .’
    ‘Oh … yeah … right,’ said Harry.
    ‘Fred and George can’t have gone that far,’ said Ron, pulling out his wand, lighting it like Hermione, and squinting up the path. Harry dug in the pockets of his jacket for his own wand – but it wasn’t there. The only things he could find were his Omnioculars.
    ‘Ah, no, I don’t believe it … I’ve lost my wand!’
    ‘You’re kidding?’
    Ron and Hermione raised their wands high enough to spread the narrow beams of light further on the ground; Harry looked all around him, but his wand was nowhere to be seen.
    ‘Maybe it’s back in the tent,’ said Ron.
    ‘Maybe it fell out of your pocket when we were running?’ Hermione suggested anxiously.
    ‘Yeah,’ said Harry, ‘maybe …’
    He usually kept his wand with him at all times in the wizarding world, and finding himself without it in the midst of a scene like this made him feel very vulnerable.
    A rustling noise made all three of them jump. Winky the house-elf was fighting her way out of a clump of bushes nearby. She was moving in a most peculiar fashion, apparently with great difficulty; it was as though someone invisible was trying to hold her back.
    ‘There is bad wizards about!’ she squeaked distractedly, as she leant forwards and laboured to keep running. ‘People high – high in the air! Winky is getting out of the way!’
    And she disappeared into the trees on the other side of the path, panting and squeaking as she fought the force that was restraining her.
    ‘What’s up with her ?’ said Ron, looking curiously after Winky. ‘Why can’t she run properly?’
    ‘Bet she didn’t ask permission to hide,’ said Harry. He was thinking of Dobby: every time he had tried to do something the Malfoys wouldn’t like, he had been forced to start beating himself up.
    ‘You know, house-elves get a very raw deal!’ said Hermione indignantly. ‘It’s slavery, that’s what it is! That Mr Crouch made her go up to the top of the stadium, and she was terrified, and he’s got her bewitched so she can’t even run when they start trampling tents! Why doesn’t anyone do something about it?’
    ‘Well, the elves are happy, aren’t they?’ Ron said. ‘You heard old Winky back at the match … “House-elves is not supposed to have fun”… that’s