Simone Martiane and the Goblet of Fire

I stared impatiently out the window of the carriage. "Are we nearly there, Madame Maxime?" I asked, turning my gaze to our large headmistress.

Madame Maxime smiled at me. "Look down, child. Do you see many trees?"

"Oui, Madame," I said, wondering what that could mean.

"Are there large spider-webs in the trees?" she asked.

I looked closely, and soon I could see silvery webs large enough to hold our whole carriage and all four horses too, which, like Madame Maxime, were fairly large. "Oui, Madame," I said.

"Then we are nearly there," replied Madame Maxime with a smile.

She turned to the class at large--there were twelve of us. "Ecoutéz (Listen)!" she demanded. "When we arrive, you must know that Hogwarts is a very grand place, true, though not anywhere near as grand as Beauxbatons. Do not be surprised if the food is bland and tasteless and not what we're used to. Do not be surprised if the ceiling is mere plaster--if there is a ceiling at all, which I doubt. Do not be surprised if there is not room to accommodate us, for we will sleep in the carriage. And most importantly, do not be surprised if the uniforms are not silk, as ours are. Hogwarts must be a very poor school if these things are so inferior to our own dear Beauxbatons."

I bristled. Who was Madame Maxime to be saying things like that? She was teaching us ethnocentrism, and I would have none of it. I was determined to keep an open mind. This is where I was born after all...and I believe those Weasley children attend school there. I look forward to seeing them, and meeting them a little more formally. But I knew I would be in major trouble if I said this to Madame Maxime, and I was not her favourite student (though I was close), so I seethed in silence.

I returned to looking out the window. Suddenly I noticed it: the end of the woods. A large stone castle loomed ahead. "Regardez (look)!" I cried. "There it is!"

The other students crowded behind me. "How boring," yawned Fleur. "They didn't even paint the castle. It is a plain, ordinary grey."

I turned and fixed her with my steely gaze, and she quickly shut up.

Mae pointed. "Look!" she said. "They must be the Hogwarts students!"

Fleur sniffed. "Some of their robes look downright shoddy."

"Fleur," I said warningly.

The carriage bumped to a halt. "Wrap up warmly," Madame Maxime advised. "Il fait trés froid (it is very cold)." Then the door opened.

I was wearing a basic black winter cloak with silver fastenings, one my father had bought for me in Diagon Alley. Most of the others, however, wore mufflers and shawls and scarves and balaclavas. Henrí, the only boy who had come, jumped out and lowered the steps. Madame Maxime stepped out. I noticed a few--a very few--Hogwarts students stare in surprise. Many seemed to simply accept her largeness. Fine with me.

We slowly filed out as Madame Maxime began to talk to the headmaster (at least I assumed he was the headmaster) of Hogwarts. I looked up at the huge, beautiful old castle and shivered delightfully with anticipation. Most of my classmates were shivering with cold.

"My pupils," Madame Maxime said. Obviously, she was using English, since they could not understand French. I could see several Hogwarts students look our way. I was already mentally compiling a list of who to talk to. I saw four of the Weasleys--the twins, the girl called Ginny, and the boy called Ron, who was standing next to Harry Potter and the girl called Hermione Granger, if I recalled correctly. I would talk to all six of them eventually. Then there was a girl who looked about our age, three in fact. Upon closer inspection, they were discovered to be wearing emblems on their robes that perfectly matched that of the Weasley twins. I decided it must be a house mark, since another boy a little farther on had a different badge.

"Where is Karkaroff?" asked Madame Maxime.

"He has not arrived yet," replied the tall man. "Would you care to stay and wait for him, or would you like to go inside and warm up?"

"Warm up, I think," said Madame Maxime. Fleur nodded vigorously next to me. "But ze 'orses..."

I sighed. The man replied, "Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will see to them, as soon as he has finished with a slight problem that has arisen with some of his--er--other charges."

I noticed Ron Weasley whisper something to Harry Potter with a grin.

"My 'orses are--er--very strong," said Madame Maxime, and I was a bit hurt to hear the doubt in her voice, as though she did not think this Hogwarts teacher would be up to it. "They require forceful 'andling..."

"I assure you Hagrid will be well up to the job," replied the tall man with a smile.

"Very well," said Madame Maxime, as though wondering if her horses would be well cared for. "Would you please inform zis 'Agrid zat ze 'orses only drink single-malt whiskey?"

Not true, as it happened. They much preferred a big trough of pumpkin juice, which I happened to know because I take care of them.

"It will be attended to," replied the man, bowing also.

Madame Maxime beckoned to us, and we followed her into a large room that seemed to have no ceiling--it just opened up into the night sky. "I told you," said Madame Maxime, speaking French again. "There is no ceiling."

I made a mental note to ask if Hogwarts had a guidebook. I wanted to learn as much about this school as possible.

I put my cloak on the back of the chair I'd been assigned to and sat down. Fleur sat down next to me, continuing to clutch a muffler to her face. I sighed and ignored her.

The Hogwarts students began filing in. A young girl with black hair came over, smiling, and sat down next to me. She was only a couple years younger than I, perhaps fifteen or sixteen. "Hi!" she said, continuing to smile. "I'm Cho Chang."

"I'm Simóne," I replied. "Simóne Martáine. Nice to meet you, Cho."

"Je m'appelle Fleur Delacour (I call myself Fleur Delacour)," said Fleur from behind her muffler.

"Fleur," I said warningly.

Fleur sighed. "Oh, all right. I call myself Fleur Delacour."

Cho smiled at us both. "I can't wait for the tournament!"

"Me, either," I said with a smile.

"You're both entering, aren't you?" asked Cho eagerly.

I shook my head. "I am here as a reporter only. I'm a reporter for my school newspaper. But Fleur is competing."

Cho grinned excitedly. "I can't wait! I'm hoping Cedric Diggory is chosen as champion." She pointed to a boy at the next table. He seemed kind of handsome, but the really handsome types always seem to be just useless pretty-boys. "He's my boyfriend. Most popular guy in school--and he's a prefect."

"Lucky you," said Fleur enviously.

Madame Maxime came in. All my friends jumped up. I sighed. "This is so stupid," I whispered as I stood up too. "We don't need to do this every time she comes in. It's a dumb custom."

Fleur glared at me. I sighed. "Oh, all right. But just this once."

When Madame Maxime sat down, we did too. The tall wizard stood up.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts, and--most especially--guests," he said. "I trust your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

Fleur gave a derisive laugh I was sure carried across the hall.

"No one's making you stay!" I hissed at her. I noticed the Hermione girl bristling across the room. I smiled at her but I don't think she noticed. She had seemed very defensive earlier.

"The tournament will be officially open at the end of the feast," the man continued. "Meanwhile, I invite you to eat and enjoy!"

The plates before us filled with food. Starving, I looked around to see what would be good. I nudged Cho.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing at a dish next to a plate of croissants.

"Oh, you don't want that," said Cho, peering over. "That's haggis. Sheep's innards boiled with oatmeal in the sheep's stomach."

"Sounds delicious," I said, taking a small serving. "What would you recommend?"

Cho pointed to a casserole dish. "Macaroni and Cheese. It's one of my favourite dishes. Then there's..."

Cho pointed out several dishes she thought were excellent, and I in turn showed her several good French ones. We both sampled some other dishes, which we agreed must be Bulgarian or Russian. Fleur, who had a plate filled with nothing but French food, looked disappointed. "Where is ze bouillabaisse?"

I pointed. "There's some over at that table. You could see if they're done with it."

"Mercí (thanks)," said Fleur through the muffler.

I sighed. "Fleur, you can't eat through that muffler."

Fleur removed the muffler, allowing her white-gold hair to fan out behind her, and walked over to the Gryffindor table.

She returned with the dish a minute later. I noticed that the boy called Ron Weasley was staring at Fleur, while Harry Potter was staring at Cho. I giggled.

"Hey, Fleur, I think that redhead over there has a crush on you."

Fleur looked at the boy. "Ugh! Un garcon Anglais (an English boy). He is not even handsome or rich, merely poor and ugly."

"Fleur!" I said, shocked. "That wasn't nice."

"Oh, dear," said Cho. "Harry's staring at me again."

"Yeah, I think he likes you," I said, switching to English (I'd been speaking to Fleur in French).

Cho sighed and rolled her eyes. "He is such a little creep. I'd be a bit more frank with him--tell him what a creep I think he is--but he's had so many hardships, and he brought about You-Know-Who's downfall, and he's saved the school at least twice..."

I sighed and shook my head. "I don't know either one of you."

After finishing a bit more of my dinner, I turned to Cho. "I've got a few questions for you."

"Fire away," said Cho, wiping a bit of cheese off of her face.

"Who is the tall wizard who addressed the school?"

"Oh, that's Albus Dumbledore. He's the headmaster--and he's supposed to be the greatest headmaster Hogwarts has ever had, but I don't know. A good headmaster wouldn't have let Muggle-borns in...it just doesn't seem decent, somehow. I mean, I'm not a Slytherin or anything, but it still doesn't seem decent."

I sighed and shook my head. "Is there a guidebook to your school?"

Cho shrugged. "Beats me. Ask someone else."

I rolled my eyes.

When dessert was over, Albus Dumbledore called for a casket. Out of it, he pulled a beautiful goblet. Quickly, I pulled out my notebook and a quill and began scribbling notes. The goblet was the Goblet of Fire. To get in, you simply put in your name and school on a piece of paper and hoped your name came out. Then Dumbledore dropped a bombshell on the students: There would be an age line around the goblet, keeping students under the age of seventeen out. I could hear several disappointed groans and excited whispers at this announcement. Then everyone was sent to bed.

That evening, I looked over the notes I'd taken for the paper. Fleur came over to where I was lounging.

"So," she said, "what are you going to do now?"

I looked up at her. "I think that tomorrow I will do a little investigating. Just to see what everyone thinks."

The next morning, after grabbing a piece of toast, I took my clipboard and quill down to the dungeon where the Goblet of Fire had been placed. Well, I thought, this looks like a good place to start.

I walked up to a small girl who couldn't have been more than thirteen. "Excuse me," I said to her. "Could you explain something to me?"

"Sure!" said the girl, looking up at me.

I flipped to the back of my previous notes. "You have houses, correct?"

"Right," said the girl. "Four of them. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin."

I grinned. "What are the house colours?"

The girl frowned. "Red and gold for Gryffindor, yellow and black for Hufflepuff, blue and white for Ravenclaw, green and silver for Slytherin."

I nodded, scribbling away. "All right. How can I tell who is in what house?"

"We wear crests," said the girl, pointing to the crest on her chest. "Gryffindor has the Gryffindor lion, Hufflepuff has a badger, Slytherin has a snake, and Ravenclaw has--has some kind of bird."

I peered at the crest she was wearing. "So you're a Hufflepuff?"

"Right," said the girl.

"Now, to the serious stuff," I said to her. "Who do you want to be champion for the Triwizard Tournament?"

"Oh, Cedric Diggory," said the girl enthusiastically. "He's a Hufflepuff."

I groaned inwardly but said nothing.

~~~

By lunchtime, I had asked every Hogwarts student, plus the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students. As usual, Fleur and Cho came over to sit next to me.

"What's that?" asked Cho, pointing to my clipboard.

"As you know, I asked every student in all three schools who they wanted to be the champion," I began. "This is my list."

Fleur perked up. "So, what does that show?"

I looked at my notes. "Well, the favourite for Hogwarts is Angelina Johnson, who's a Gryffindor, but Cedric Diggory, a Hufflepuff, is in close second. The Beauxbatons favourite is"--I hated to say it--"you, Fleur, and everybody at Durmstrang seems to think Viktor Krum will be champion except Krum. He thinks it'll be Ivana Sklodowska."

"Sklodowska? That's Polish, isn't it?" said Cho.

"Or Russian. It could go either way."

Cho nodded. "So what are your plans for the afternoon?"

"I am going to make myself look my best for this evening," said Fleur haughtily. "When I am chosen, I want to glow."

I rolled my eyes again. "I believe I will speak to some of the teachers and see if I can sit in on a few classes. The readers back home might wish to know how Hogwarts classes work. Then I'll probably go to the library and see if I can find a guidebook to Hogwarts."

I finished my lunch and headed to the library first. There I noticed the girl called Hermione Granger, browsing the shelves. "Hello," I said pleasantly. "Remember me?"

Hermione turned around. "No," she answered.

"I'm Simóne Martáine," I said, extending my hand. "You're Hermione Granger, correct?"

"Oh! Right! The World Cup!" said Hermione, taking my hand. "What's up?"

I hesitated, then said, "Hermione, is there a guidebook to Hogwarts? Cho Chang is the only one I've asked, and she had no clue..."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't bother with her. She's enamoured by Cedric Diggory, and I think he's rubbing off on her. But to answer your question--yes, there is. It's called Hogwarts, a History and it's usually right over there."

A small girl who was next to her spoke up. "It doesn't matter, though. Hermione's memorised it, you can just ask her."

I laughed. Hermione glared. "Shut up, Ginny."

"Well, actually, I'll check it out anyway," I chuckled, "but there is one thing I want to ask. Is the ceiling really open in the Great Hall?"

"Of course not!" said Hermione indignantly. "It's bewitched, to look like the s outside. It's great--you can find out the weather without going outside."

I smiled. "Thanks, Hermione."

The little girl called Ginny, whom I recognised as a Weasley, spoke up. "What do you think of Hogwarts so far?"

"What I've seen so far looks favourable," I replied. "I've enjoyed it a lot. I think I'll see if I can sit in on a few classes to see what they're like."

I held up my clipboard. "I'd better go. I need to take a few more notes, then organise this into a legible paper."

"Why not wait until tonight?" suggested Hermione. "Then you can include the champion's names."

I grinned. "Good idea. I hope the Hogwarts champion will be Angelina," I added. "She's the favourite, you know."

"Really?" said Hermione in delight.

I nodded and flipped open to my sheet. I had marked each candidate's name in the colour of his or her house, and each voter's colour corresponded to his or her own house. "There are only three champions for Hogwarts who even entered: Cedric Diggory, who's a Hufflepuff; Angelina Johnson, a Gryffindor; and Terrence Warrington, a Slytherin. There were no Ravenclaw champions. All of the Hufflepuffs and about a quarter of the Ravenclaws are in favour of Cedric. All of the Gryffindors and most of the Ravenclaws are in favour of Angelina. And all of the Slytherins are in favour of Terrence, of course--well, almost all of them. One Slytherin, a boy about your age, voted for Angelina. Thanks to the Ravenclaw votes, Angelina is definitely the favourite--a lot of people are impressed by her Quidditch ability, they say--but Cedric is, unfortunately, in a close second because he's handsome. And possibly his Quidditch talent."

Hermione groaned. "I really hope it is Angelina. Cedric wouldn't be a bad choice, but if he's that close because he's handsome he doesn't deserve it. Obviously, we can't have a Slytherin champion." She registered a double take. "Did you say a Slytherin voted for Angelina? They hate us!"

"Only one," I replied. "About your age, blonde hair, blue eyes, kind of rich-looking?"

"Draco Malfoy?" gasped both girls in unison.

"Yeah, that's his name, I just couldn't remember it," I nodded. "Why?"

Hermione looked speechless. "He hates us worst of all!"

I shrugged. "Maybe he's not as bad as he wants to seem. Well, see you later." I left, pausing only to check out the book.

~~~

That evening, I sat down next to Fleur and Cho. "Well, this is it!" I said as cheerfully as I could. I could only pray that the Beauxbatons favourite would not be chosen. Beauxbatons girls are not known for their ability at Divination.