Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

Chapter 507: The Triwizard Tournament

After listening for a while, Hermione got up, tiptoed to the compartment door, and slid it shut, blocking out Malfoy’s voice.

“So he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he?” she said angrily. “I wish he had gone, then we wouldn’t have to put up with him.”

“I remember that Krum is also from Durmstrang!” said Ron. “I have done my research.”

“What, Krum is from there too?!” Harry looked a little surprised. “But Sirius said before that the school had a bad reputation…”

“Accurately speaking, it’s got a horrible reputation!” said Hermione sniffily. “According to An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe, it puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark Arts. Many Dark wizards graduated from there.”

Of course, Durmstrang’s tolerance for Dark Arts was within certain limits.

If there were young wizards growing up to be like Grindelwald or Voldemort, they would also take measures to deal with them.

In history, Grindelwald was expelled from Durmstrang because they could no longer tolerate his messy and increasingly evil research on Dark Arts.

“But Krum looks righteous. By the way, where is the school?” Ron asked, “What country?”

“Somewhere in Nordic Europe, I guess it should be near Scandinavia!” said Evan. “I’ve seen descriptions of the scenery around their school, which fits the Scandinavian environment very well. It’s the largest peninsula in Europe and the highest terrain. There are vast forests covered with snow for long periods, vast snow fields and glaciers, as well as the polar starry sky.”

“Evan, you are so good;you can analyze what information you have to a great extent and deduce a lot!” Hermione exclaimed, “I just speculated that Durmstrang must be somewhere in the far north, somewhere very cold, because they’ve got fur capes as part of their uniforms.”

“That sounds good. Think of the possibilities,” said Ron dreamily. “It would have been so easy to push Malfoy off a glacier and make it look like an accident … Shame his mother likes him …”

“”You’d better mind your own business, Weasley!!”

Before Ron had finished, Draco Malfoy appeared in the doorway. Behind him stood Crabbe and Goyle, his enormous, thuggish cronies, both of whom appeared to have grown at least a foot during the summer.

Evidently, they had overheard the conversation through the compartment door.

“Go out, Malfoy, we didn’t invite you in,” said Harry coldly.

Malfoy ignored him. He glanced fearfully at Evan sitting by the window, and then looked at Ron again.

Ron’s words had obviously made Malfoy very angry, and he was not ready to leave.

“Weasley, what is that?” he asked, pointing to Pigwidgeon’s cage. A sleeve of Ron’s dress robes was dangling from it, swaying with the motion of the train, the moldy lace cuff very obvious

Ron made to stuff the robes out of sight, but Malfoy was too quick for him; he seized the sleeve and pulled.

“Look at this!” said Malfoy in ecstasy, holding up Ron’s robes and showing Crabbe and Goyle, “Weasley, you weren’t thinking of wearing these, were you? I mean … they were very fashionable around 1890…”

“Eat dung, Malfoy!” said Ron, the same color as the dress robes as he snatched them back out of Malfoy’s grip. Malfoy howled with derisive laughter; Crabbe and Goyle guffawed stupidly.

“So … going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There’s money involved as well, you know … you’d be able to afford some decent robes if you won …”

“What are you talking about?” snapped Ron.

“Are you going to enter?” Malfoy repeated, looking at Harry, who was also glaring at him. “I suppose you will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?”

“Either explain what you’re on about or go away, Malfoy,” said Hermione testily, over the top of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4. 

When he heard Hermione’s words, a gleeful smile spread across Malfoy’s pale face.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know?” He said delightedly. “Weasley, you’ve got a father and brother at the Ministry and you don’t even know? My God, my father told me about it ages ago … he heard it from Cornelius Fudge. But then, Father is always associated with the top people at the Ministry. Maybe your father’s is too junior to know about it. He has no right to know, Weasley, yes … yes … they probably don’t talk about important stuff in front of him…”

“Of course we know about the Triwizard Tournament!” Evan interrupted him, “And we also intend to take part in it and become Hogwarts champions. If you have a problem with that, feel free to ask.”

When he heard Evan’s words, the look of joy on Malfoy’s face came to an abrupt end, and he looked comedically shocked. He took a step back and his horrified look seemed to have just discovered that Evan was here too.

Malfoy naturally did not dare to have any comments about Evan’s words. Both his experience of the last term and the horrifying and shocking image of the World Cup were stuck to his mind and could never be forgotten.

He beckoned to Crabbe and Goyle, and the three of them disappeared together.

Ron got to his feet and slammed the sliding compartment door so hard behind them that the glass shattered.

“Ron!” said Hermione reproachfully, and she pulled out her wand, muttered “Reparo!” and the glass shards flew back into a single pane and back into the door. 

“I’ve had enough of him!” said Ron angrily. “’Father’s always associated with the top people at the Ministry’… Dad could have a promotion at any time. He just likes where he is…”

“Don’t let Malfoy get to you, Ron, it’s not worth it!” said Harry.

“Him! Get to me?! As if!” said Ron resentfully. He picked up one of the remaining Cauldron Cakes, made by Mrs. Weasley, and squashed it into a pulp.

“Well, Evan, what exactly is the Triwizard Tournament you just talked about?” Hermione turned to look at Evan. “Is that what they’ve been talking about? I wish I had heard about it…”

Harry and Ron also focused and looked at Evan curiously.