The prolonged neighing of horses pierced the night, resonating across the entire sky. Then, twelve silver-maned steeds, wings unfurling, pulled a carriage gliding down from the horizon.
At first, the sight of the flying carriage, no larger than a palm in the distance, merely piqued the curiosity of the young Hogwarts witches and wizards. But as it drew closer, its size loomed ever larger in the eyes of the Gryffindor students.
When the twelve elephantine, silver-white pegasi landed on the grass, their massive hooves thundering, and when the carriage—roughly the size of a three-story villa—slammed into the ground, leaving two long, deep ruts in the turf, the Hogwarts students, startled into a collective retreat of several steps, stood dumbfounded.
The carriage's wheels, nearly as tall as two people, came to a slow halt on the grass some fifty feet away. The giant horses snorted, shaking their enormous heads, their fiery red eyes darting about, surveying this unfamiliar place.
As the young wizards gaped at the colossal carriage and its equally massive horses, the carriage door was abruptly flung open from within. A boy in a pale blue robe leapt out, bending down to fumble with something beneath the carriage. Moments later, a golden spiral staircase materialized beside the carriage's compartment.
After setting up the staircase, the boy stepped aside and gave a deep, respectful bow toward the door. "Madame Maxime, we've arrived at Hogwarts," he announced.
A massive black high-heeled shoe emerged from the doorway, followed by its owner, who stepped into view before the Hogwarts crowd. Harry distinctly heard several gasps around him.
This female giant—no, judging by her size, likely a half-giant like Hagrid—had a strikingly handsome olive-toned face. Her eyes, dark and luminous, sparkled with a vitality Hagrid lacked. A large yet refined nose accentuated her elegant features. Madame Maxime's long hair was swept into a graceful bun at the back of her head, and she was draped from head to toe in black satin robes. Around her neck and on her fingers gleamed an array of opulent opals.
Dumbledore began to clap, and the students, snapping out of their daze, followed suit. Many at the back of the crowd stood on tiptoe. They'd seen plenty of tall people before, but a woman this tall and this beautiful? That was a first.
"Dear Madame Maxime, welcome to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said with a warm smile, stepping forward.
Madame Maxime returned an elegant smile, extending a gem-laden hand toward Dumbledore. The tall headmaster straightened and courteously kissed it.
"My dear Dumbledore, I hope you're well," Madame Maxime said in a low, resonant voice.
"Quite well, thank you for your concern," Dumbledore replied with a smile.
"These are my students," the half-giantess said, casually waving a hand behind her. At some point, a dozen or so Beauxbatons students had lined up neatly in two rows. They appeared to be around eighteen or nineteen years old and were shivering slightly in the chilly October night, clad only in silk robes without cloaks. Harry noticed that their robes bore an emblem of two crossed golden wands, with six stars emanating from the wand tips.
Among them, a few students had wrapped their heads in scarves or headscarves. Harry wondered if they might hail from the eastern or southern Mediterranean, where he'd heard women often covered their heads when outdoors.
"Has Karkaroff arrived?" Madame Maxime inquired.
"He and his students should be here any moment," Dumbledore replied, glancing at the trembling Beauxbatons students behind her. "But might I suggest warming up inside the castle first? Your students don't seem entirely accustomed to Britain's late October chill. The temperature difference between France and Britain can be quite significant."
"Warming up does sound appealing," Madame Maxime nodded. "But my horses…"
"Ah, on that note, I believe our Care of Magical Creatures professor will be delighted to tend to them," Dumbledore said, gesturing invitingly. "He's currently dealing with a minor issue—well, some other creatures he looks after have caused a bit of a stir…"
"I bet those Blast-Ended Skrewts are tearing up Hagrid's hut right now!" Ron whispered to Harry with a grin.
"Dumbledore, I don't doubt your Care of Magical Creatures professor's competence," Madame Maxime said, frowning slightly, "but my horses… they're rather temperamental. It takes someone of considerable strength to manage them properly."
"When it comes to strength, you can place full confidence in Hagrid," Dumbledore assured her with a smile. He then signaled the Head Girl to step forward and lead the Beauxbatons delegation to the castle.
Madame Maxime gave a slight bow, gesturing for her students to follow the Hogwarts student waiting ahead. She herself remained behind, chatting idly with Dumbledore while awaiting the Durmstrang delegation.
"By the way, Dumbledore," Madame Maxime added after a moment, "please inform Hagrid that my horses only drink single-malt whisky."
"Of course," Dumbledore nodded.
As the night deepened, the two headmasters continued their casual conversation, seemingly unbothered by the cold. Most of the Hogwarts students, however, were shivering and hungry, their eyes frequently darting to the sky in hopes that the Durmstrang delegation would arrive soon.
Spurred by the spectacle of Beauxbatons' arrival, many young wizards began speculating about how Durmstrang might make their entrance. What kind of carriage would they have? How large would their horses be?
"Maybe it's a carriage that moves on its own, without horses!" Seamus Finnigan declared loudly.
"Hogwarts' carriages are pulled by horses," a dreamy, ethereal voice chimed in from Harry's left. Turning, he saw a pale girl with a vague, almost otherworldly air, as if her presence anywhere was purely coincidental. Her silvery, slightly protruding eyes fixed on Seamus.
"Nonsense! If there were horses, I'd have seen them!" Seamus retorted, unconvinced.
"It's true," the girl said, tucking a strand of dirty-blonde hair behind her ear. Harry noticed she wore peculiar radish-shaped earrings and a necklace made of Butterbeer corks.
"They're called Thestrals," she continued. "Magical creatures only visible to those who've seen death."
Seamus opened his mouth to argue, but Harry cut in. "Seamus, she's right. The school carriages are pulled by black, winged horses."
Seamus glanced at Harry, then back at the odd girl. His instincts urged him to argue, but his logic told him Harry had no reason to lie, especially not in cahoots with this stranger.
"Creatures only visible to those who've seen death? First I've heard of it," Seamus muttered, shrugging. "I'll ask Hagrid in class."
The girl's dreamy demeanor and eccentric aura were unmistakable. Harry turned to her. "Hi, I'm Harry Potter. And you are…?"
"I know who she is! That's Loony Luna!" a nearby Gryffindor exclaimed excitedly. "The weirdest of Ravenclaw's weird bunch…"
The Gryffindor's voice trailed off under Harry's silent stare. He gave an awkward grin, turned, and busied himself talking to someone else.
"Luna, is it?" Harry said gently, smiling. "I'm sorry about that. Just a bit of teasing between classmates—don't take it to heart."
"It's fine," Luna said, shaking her head. "Everyone at school calls me that. Oh, and my name's Luna Lovegood."
"Lovegood? Why does that sound familiar?" Ron mused, scratching his head.
"Lovegood? So, Luna, you live near Ottery St. Catchpole?" Hermione asked, surprised, looking at the pale blonde girl.
"How did you know where I live?" Luna tilted her head, puzzled. "I don't think I've introduced myself to you."
"Well," Harry explained, "Hermione and I went with Ron's family to the Quidditch World Cup via Portkey this summer. Mr. Diggory mentioned the Lovegoods…"
Perhaps because Luna lived near Ron, or perhaps because she just clicked with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, it wasn't long before Luna was happily chatting with her three new friends.
Just as Hermione was about to ask Luna about her life at Hogwarts—her nickname in Ravenclaw hinted at a challenging time, and Hermione, seeing shades of her younger self in Luna, felt a pang of sympathy—Harry suddenly whipped his head toward the Black Lake.
"Something's emerged in the lake," he said. "A massive magical disturbance… Looks like Durmstrang's here."
At Harry's words, the surrounding students turned curiously toward the lake. But aside from the inky black water, they saw nothing.
"Dumbledore, it seems you've got some promising students," Madame Maxime remarked, noticing Harry's reaction. A faint smile curved her lips as she glanced at Dumbledore. "Sensing magical fluctuations at such a young age? Don't tell me you had no hand in that."
Dumbledore, who had also noticed Harry's movement, stroked his long beard. He neither confirmed nor denied her comment.
A dozen seconds later, everyone present heard it—a loud, peculiar sound rising from the lakebed, reverberating through the earth and water to the grassy shore.
It was a muffled rumbling, interspersed with sucking noises, like a giant vacuum cleaner dragging along the riverbed.
Then, the once-calm surface of the Black Lake began to churn.
As if something enormous were rising from the depths, massive waves surged across the water, crashing against the damp shore. In the center of the lake, a colossal whirlpool formed. From its heart, a long black mast slowly emerged, followed by a small wooden platform, then a thickening pole, and finally ropes and sails…
A majestic wooden ship rose steadily from the lake.
Its appearance was eerie, less like a ship and more like a skeletal creature or undead being that had taken the form of a vessel.
At last, the ship fully surfaced, bobbing on the turbulent waves as it sailed toward the shore.
Moments later, a loud splash echoed as a massive iron anchor was cast into the shallows, followed by a thud as a long wooden plank was lowered onto the bank.
Figures began crossing the plank, stepping onto the shore. Harry and the others could make out their silhouettes against the light spilling from the ship's portholes.
"They look pretty sturdy," Ron whispered to Harry. "Is it because moving on ice requires lots of muscle to stay warm?"
"Ron, if they were relying on their bodies for warmth, they'd be plump, not muscular," Harry said, launching into an explanation of how fat aids insulation.
Meanwhile, the robust, towering figures began striding across the grass toward the castle. As they drew closer, the Hogwarts students realized their apparent bulk came from the shaggy, matted fur cloaks they wore. Leading the group was a middle-aged man in a sleek, silver-white fur cloak.
"Dumbledore!" the man called out warmly as he ascended the slope, his voice rich and syrupy. "My dear old friend, how are you? And you, Madame Maxime, how have you been?"
"Splendid, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied coolly.
"Thanks to you, I've been quite well," Madame Maxime responded with far more warmth.
As the man named Karkaroff stepped into the light streaming from the castle's main entrance, the Hogwarts students finally got a clear look at Durmstrang's headmaster.
He appeared to be in his sixties or seventies, tall and thin like Dumbledore, but with short white hair and a goatee that gave him the air of a shrewd merchant. He approached Dumbledore and clasped his hand with both of his own.
"Dear old friend, Hogwarts…" Karkaroff said, gazing up at the castle with a smile—though his eyes remained cold. "It's wonderful to be here, truly wonderful… Ah, Viktor, come here, warm up… You don't mind, do you, Dumbledore? Viktor's got a bit of a cold…"
Karkaroff beckoned one of his students forward. As the boy passed, Harry caught sight of a distinctive hooked nose and two thick, dark eyebrows.
Ron began jabbing Harry's arm frantically, and a ripple of excited whispers spread through the Hogwarts students. Some even pushed forward eagerly, quills and parchment mysteriously appearing in their hands.
"Harry—it's Krum!"
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