Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Harry Potter, #4)

by J.K. Rowling

“We’ll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts,” said Fred as he and George quickly pooled all their money, “that Ireland wins — but Viktor Krum gets the Snitch. Oh and we’ll throw in a fake wand.”

“You don’t want to go showing Mr. Bagman rubbish like that —” Percy hissed, but Bagman didn’t seem to think the wand was rubbish at all; on the contrary, his boyish face shone with excitement as he took it from Fred, and when the wand gave a loud squawk and turned into a rubber chicken, Bagman roared with laughter. “Excellent! I haven’t seen one that convincing in years! I’d pay five Galleons for that!” Percy froze in an attitude of stunned disapproval.

“TROY SCORES!” roared Bagman, and the stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers. “Ten zero to Ireland!”

“What?” Harry yelled, looking wildly around through his Omnioculars. “But Levski’s got the Quaffle!” “Harry, if you’re not going to watch at normal speed, you’re going to miss things!” shouted Hermione,

Furious with himself, Harry spun his speed dial back to normal as play resumed.

“Now, we can’t have that!” said Ludo Bagman, though he sounded highly amused. “Somebody slap the referee!”

“MORSMORDRE!”

“Mum, you’ve given me Ginny’s new dress,” said Ron, handing it out to her.

“Of course I haven’t,” said Mrs. Weasley. “That’s for you. Dress robes.” “What?” said Ron, looking horror-struck. “Dress robes!” repeated Mrs. Weasley. “It says on your school list that you’re supposed to have dress robes this year . . . robes for formal occasions.” “You’ve got to be kidding,” said Ron in disbelief. “I’m not wearing that, no way.” “Everyone wears them, Ron!” said Mrs. Weasley crossly. “They’re all like that! Your father’s got some for smart parties!” “I’ll go starkers before I put that on,” said Ron stubbornly.

“I’m never wearing them,” Ron was saying stubbornly. “Never.” “Fine,” snapped Mrs. Weasley. “Go naked. And, Harry, make sure you get a picture of him. Goodness knows I could do with a laugh.”

“Ah, think of the possibilities,” said Ron dreamily. “It would’ve been so easy to push Malfoy off a glacier and make it look like an accident. . . . Shame his mother likes him. . . .”

Oooh, which one’s that, Professor?” “It is Uranus, my dear,” said Professor Trelawney, peering down at the chart. “Can I have a look at Uranus too, Lavender?” said Ron.

“Don’t talk to me,” Ron said quietly to Harry and Hermione as they sat down at the Gryffindor table a few minutes later, surrounded by excited talk on all sides about what had just happened. “Why not?” said Hermione in surprise. “Because I want to fix that in my memory forever,” said Ron, his eyes closed and an uplifted expression on his face. “Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret . . .”

“He could have really hurt Malfoy, though,” she said. “It was good, really, that Professor McGonagall stopped it —” “Hermione!” said Ron furiously, his eyes snapping open again, “you’re ruining the best moment of my life!”

“Imagine if Moody turned Snape into a horned toad,” said Ron, his eyes misting over, “and bounced him all around his dungeon. . . .”

“Over here! Come and sit over here!” Ron hissed. “Over here! Hermione, budge up, make a space —” “What?” “Too late,” said Ron bitterly. Viktor Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students had settled themselves at the Slytherin table. Harry could see Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle looking very smug about this. As he watched, Malfoy bent forward to speak to Krum. “Yeah, that’s right, smarm up to him, Malfoy,” said Ron scathingly. “I bet Krum can see right through him, though . . .

Most Ravenclaws seemed to think that he had been desperate to earn himself a bit more fame by tricking the goblet into accepting his name.

“Harry’s got a long way to go before he finishes this tournament,” she said seriously. “If that was the first task, I hate to think what’s coming next.” “Right little ray of sunshine, aren’t you?” said Ron. “You and Professor Trelawney should get together sometime.” He threw Pigwidgeon out of the window. Pigwidgeon plummeted twelve feet before managing to pull himself back up again; the letter attached to his leg was much longer and heavier than usual — Harry hadn’t been able to resist giving Sirius a blow-by-blow account of exactly how he had swerved, circled, and dodged the Horntail.

“It was someone being tortured!” said Neville, who had gone very white and spilled sausage rolls all over the floor. “You’re going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!” “Don’t be a prat, Neville, that’s illegal,” said George. “They wouldn’t use the Cruciatus Curse on the champions.

I thought it sounded a bit like Percy singing . . . maybe you’ve got to attack him while he’s in the shower, Harry.”

“Want a jam tart, Hermione?” said Fred. Hermione looked doubtfully at the plate he was offering her. Fred grinned. “It’s all right,” he said. “I haven’t done anything to them. It’s the custard creams you’ve got to watch —” Neville, who had just ...

“Just my little joke, Nevi...

Just then, Neville caused a slight diversion by turning into a large canary.

“Percy wouldn’t recognize a joke if it danced naked in front of him wearing Dobby’s tea cozy.”

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Snape stopped talking very abruptly. He and Filch both looked down at the foot of the stairs. Harry saw Mad-Eye Moody limp into sight through the narrow gap between their heads. Moody was wearing his old traveling cloak over his nightshirt and leaning on his staff as usual. “Pajama party, is it?” he growled up the stairs. “Professor Snape and I heard noises, Professor,” said Filch at once. “Peeves the Poltergeist, throwing things around as usual — and then Professor Snape discovered that someone had broken into his off —” “Shut up!” Snape hissed to Filch.

If you want to know what a man’s like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.”

“Curiosity is not a sin,” he said. “But we should exercise caution with our curiosity . . . yes, indeed . . .”

Voldemort. . . . He was the one who had torn these families apart, who had ruined all these lives. . .

I do not want you questioning him until he is ready to answer, and certainly not this evening.” Mrs. Weasley nodded. She was very white. She rounded on Ron, Hermione, and Bill as though they were being noisy, and hissed, “Did you hear? He needs quiet!”

You fail to recognize that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be!

“What’s comin’ will come, an’ we’ll meet it when it does.

“Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Hufflepuff House,” Dumbledore continued. “He was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play.

we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided.

Lord Voldemort’s gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.

“Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory.”