Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE 
 
 
The Third Task
“Dumbledore reckons You-Know-Who’s getting stronger again as well?” Ron whispered. 
Everything Harry had seen in the Pensieve, nearly everything Dumbledore had told and shown 
him afterward, he had now shared with Ron and Hermione - and, of course, with Sirius, to whom 
Harry had sent an owl the moment he had left Dumbledore’s office. Harry, Ron, and Hermione 
sat up late in the common room once again that night, talking it all over until Harry’s mind was 
reeling, until he understood what Dumbledore had meant about a head becoming so full of 
thoughts that it would have been a relief to siphon them off. 
Ron stared into the common room fire. Harry thought he saw Ron shiver slightly, even though 
the evening was warm. 
“And he trusts Snape?” Ron said. “He really trusts Snape, even though he knows he was a Death 
Eater?” 
“Yes,” said Harry. 
Hermione had not spoken for ten minutes. She was sitting with her forehead in her hands, staring 
at her knees. Harry thought she too looked as though she could have done with a Pensieve. 
“Rita Skeeter,” she muttered finally. 
“How can you be worrying about her now?” said Ron, in utter disbelief. 
“I’m not worrying about her,” Hermione said to her knees. “I’m just thinking… remember what 
she said to me in the Three Broomsticks? ‘I know things about Ludo Bagman that would make 
your hair curl.’ This is what she meant, isn’t it? She reported his trial, she knew he’d passed 
information to the Death Eaters. And Winky too, remember… ‘Ludo Bagman’s a bad wizard.’ 
Mr. Crouch would have been furious he got off, he would have talked about it at home.” 
“Yeah, but Bagman didn’t pass information on purpose, did he?” Hermione shrugged. 
“And Fudge reckons Madame Maxime attacked Crouch?” Ron said, turning back to Harry. 
“Yeah,” said Harry, “but he’s only saying that because Crouch disappeared near the Beauxbatons 
carriage.” 
“We never thought of her, did we?” said Ron slowly. “Mind you, she’s definitely got giant 
blood, and she doesn’t want to admit it-” 

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“Of course she doesn’t,” said Hermione sharply, looking up. “Look what happened to Hagrid 
when Rita found out about his mother. Look at Fudge, jumping to conclusions about her, just 
because she’s part giant. Who needs that sort of prejudice? I’d probably say I had big bones if I 
knew that’s what I’d get for telling the truth.” 
Hermione looked at her watch. “We haven’t done any practicing!” she said, looking shocked. 
“We were going to do the Impediment Curse! We’ll have to really get down to it tomorrow! 
Come on. Harry, you need to get some sleep.” 
Harry and Ron went slowly upstairs to their dormitory. As Harry pulled on his pajamas, he 
looked over at Nevilles bed. True to his word to Dumbledore, he had not told Ron and Hermione 
about Neville s parents. As Harry took off his glasses and climbed into his four-poster, he 
imagined how it must feel to have parents still living but unable to recognize you. He often got 
sympathy from strangers for being an orphan, but as he listened to Nevilles snores, he thought 
that Neville deserved it more than he did. Lying in the darkness, Harry felt a rush of anger and 
hate toward the people who had tortured Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom… He remembered the jeers 
of the crowd as Crouch’s son and his companions had been dragged from the court by the 
dementors… He understood how they had felt… Then he remembered the milk-white face of the 
screaming boy and realized with a jolt that he had died a year later…
It was Voldemort, Harry thought, staring up at the canopy of his bed in thedarkness, it all came 
back to Voldemort… He was the one who had torn these families apart, who had ruined all these 
lives…
Ron and Hermione were supposed to be studying for their exams, which would finish on the day 
of the third task, but they were putting most of their efforts into helping Harry prepare.
“Don’t worry about it,” Hermione said shortly when Harry pointed this out to them and said he 
didn’t mind practicing on his own for a while, “at least we’ll get top marks in Defense Against 
the Dark Arts. We’d never have found out about all these hexes in class.” 
“Good training for when we’re all Aurors,” said Ron excitedly, attempting the Impediment Curse 
on a wasp that had buzzed into the room and making it stop dead in midair. 
The mood in the castle as they entered June became excited and tense again. Everyone was 
looking forward to the third task, which would take place a week before the end of term. Harry 
was practicing hexes at every available moment. He felt more confident about this task than 
either of the others. Difficult and dangerous though it would undoubtedly be, Moody was right: 
Harry had managed to find his way past monstrous creatures and enchanted barriers before now, 
and this time he had some notice, some chance to prepare himself for what lay ahead. 
Tired of walking in on Harry, Hermione, and Ron all over the school, Professor McGonagall had 
given them permission to use the empty Transfiguration classroom at lunchtimes. Harry had soon 
mastered the Impediment Curse, a spell to slow down and obstruct attackers; the Reductor Curse, 
which would enable him to blast solid objects out of his way; and the Four-Point Spell, a useful 
discovery of Hermiones that would make his wand point due north, therefore enabling him to 

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check whether he was going in the right direction within the maze. He was still having trouble 
with the Shield Charm, though. This was supposed to cast a temporary, invisible wall around 
himself that deflected minor curses; Hermione managed to shatter it with a well-placed Jelly-
Legs Jinx, and Harry wobbled around the room for ten minutes afterward before she had looked 
up the counterjinx. 
“You’re still doing really well, though,” Hermione said encouragingly, looking down her list and 
crossing off those spells they had already learned. “Some of these are bound to come in handy.” 
“Come and look at this,” said Ron, who was standing by the window. He was staring down onto 
the grounds. “What’s Malfoy doing?” 
Harry and Hermione went to see. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing in the shadow of a 
tree below. Crabbe and Goyle seemed to be keeping a lookout; both were smirking. Malfoy was 
holding his hand up to his mouth and speaking into it.
“He looks like he’s using a walkie-talkie,” said Harry curiously. 
“He can’t be,” said Hermione, “I’ve told you, those sorts of things don’t work around Hogwarts. 
Come on, Harry,” she added briskly, turning away from the window and moving back into the 
middle of the room, “let’s try that Shield Charm again.” 
Sirius was sending daily owls now. Like Hermione, he seemed to want to concentrate on getting 
Harry through the last task before they concerned themselves with anything else. He reminded 
Harry in every letter that whatever might be going on outside the walls of Hogwarts was not 
Harry’s responsibility, nor was it within his power to influence it.