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Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN - THE WEIGHING OF THE WANDS
When Harry
woke up on Sunday morning, it took him a moment to remember why
he felt so
miserable and worried. Then the memory of the previous night rolled
over him.
He sat up and ripped back the curtains of his own four-poster, intending
to talk to
Ron, to force Ron to believe him - only to find that Ron's bed was empty;
he had
obviously gone down to breakfast.
Harry
dressed and went down the spiral staircase into the common room. The
moment he
appeared, the people who had already finished breakfast broke into
applause
again. The prospect of going down into the Great Hall and facing the rest
of the
Gryffindors, all treating him like some sort of hero, was not inviting; it was
that,
however, or stay here and allow himself to be cornered by the Creevey
brothers,
who were both beckoning frantically to him to join them. He walked
resolutely
over to the portrait hole, pushed it open, climbed out of it, and found
himself
face-to-face with Hermione.
"Hello,"
she said, holding up a stack of toast, which she was carrying in a napkin.
"I
brought you this. . . . Want to go for a walk?"
"Good
idea," said Harry gratefully.
They went
downstairs, crossed the entrance hall quickly without looking in at the
Great Hall,
and were soon striding across the lawn toward the lake, where the
Durmstrang
ship was moored, reflected blackly in the water. It was a chilly
morning,
and they kept moving, munching their toast, as Harry told Hermione
exactly
what had happened after he had left the Gryffindor table the night before.
To his
immense relief, Hermione accepted his story without question.
"Well,
of course I knew you hadn't entered yourself," she said when he'd finished
telling her
about the scene in the chamber off the Hall. "The look on your face
when
Dumbledore read out your name! But the question is, who did put it in?
Because
Moody's right, Harry... I don't think any student could have done it. . .
they'd
never be able to fool the Goblet, or get over Dumbledore's -"
"Have you seen Ron?" Harry
interrupted.
Hermione hesitated.
"Erm. . . yes. . . he was at
breakfast," she said.
"Does he still think I entered
myself?"
"Well. . . no, I don't think so . . . not
really," said Hermione awkwardly.
"What's that supposed to mean, 'not
really'?"
"Oh Harry, isn't it obvious?"
Hermione said despairingly. "He's jealous!"
"Jealous?" Harry said incredulously.
"Jealous of what? He wants to make a prat of
himself in front of the whole school, does
he?"
"Look," said Hermione patiently,
"it's always you who gets all the attention, you
know it is. I know it's not your fault,"
she added quickly, seeing Harry open his
mouth furiously. "I know you don't ask for
it.. . but - well - you know, Ron's got
all those brothers to compete against at home,
and you're his best friend, and
you're really famous - he's always shunted to
one side whenever people see you,
and he puts up with it, and he never mentions
it, but I suppose this is just one time
too many. . .
"Great," said Harry bitterly.
"Really great. Tell him from me I'll swap any time he
wants. Tell him from me he's welcome to it....
People gawping at my forehead
everywhere I go. . ."
"I'm not telling him anything,"
Hermione said shortly. "Tell him yourself. It's the
only way to sort this out."
"I'm not running around after him trying
to make him grow up!" Harry said, so
loudly that several owls in a nearby tree took
flight in alarm. "Maybe he'll believe
I'm not enjoying myself once I've got my neck
broken or -"
"That's
not funny," said Hermione quietly. "That's not funny at all."
She looked
extremely
anxious. "Harry, I've been thinking - you know what we've got to do,
don't you?
Straight away, the moment we get back to the castle?"
"Yeah,
give Ron a good kick up the -"
"Write
to Sirius. You've got to tell him what's happened. He asked you to keep
him posted
on everything that's going on at Hogwarts. . . . It's almost as if he
expected
something like this to happen. I brought some parchment and a quill out
with me
-"
"Come
off it," said Harry, looking around to check that they couldn't be
overheard,
but the
grounds were quite deserted. "He came back to the country just because
my scar
twinged. He'll probably come bursting right into the castle if I tell him
someone's
entered me in the Triwizard Tournament -"
"He'd
want you to tell him," said Hermione sternly. "He's going to find out
anyway."
"How?"
"Harry,
this isn't going to be kept quiet," said Hermione, very seriously.
"This
tournament's
famous, and you're famous. I'll be really surprised if there isn't
anything in
the Daily Prophet about you competing. . . . You're already in half the
books about
You-Know-Who, you know.. . and Sirius would rather hear it from
you, I know
he would."
