Chapter 501: Three Champions
For the first time, everyone realized how unbearably long a Saturday could feel. Time dragged on relentlessly; even wizard chess and Exploding Snap, usually the highlight of their free hours, lost their appeal. Every now and then, they would glance up at the sky, hoping it had darkened, only to be met with the unchanged light of day.
Morning crawled into noon, then stretched torturously into afternoon. By the time the sky finally dimmed, it felt as though an entire month had passed. When the moon rose, a palpable wave of anticipation rippled through the castle as everyone hurried to the Great Hall.
Despite the lavish feast laid out—undoubtedly due to back-to-back celebrations—the food didn't receive the attention it usually would. Most students picked at their plates, barely taking a few bites before setting their utensils down. Restlessness filled the air as heads turned repeatedly toward Professor Dumbledore, wondering if he had finished eating yet.
"Sit down," Hermione finally snapped when Ron stood up for the third time. "The Goblet of Fire needs time to decide. Even Headmaster Dumbledore can't announce the results before it's ready."
"And how exactly do you know that?" Ron challenged. "Did the goblet whisper the timeline to you when you put your name in?"
"Of course not!" Hermione replied with an exasperated sigh. "Have you ever read Hogwarts: A History? It's all in there."
Ron muttered under his breath, "I don't think many people read a book that thick." Noticing Hermione's irritated glare, he hastily added, "Okay, fine. Could you kindly tell us what time it's supposed to decide?"
Their little exchange had drawn the attention of nearby students, all of whom turned to Hermione.
"The book states the Goblet of Fire extinguishes itself after one day," she explained, her tone clipped. "It was only brought out at the end of last night's feast. Based on that, the decision should happen around 7:30."
Ron checked the clock. It was only ten past seven. He groaned inwardly. Another twenty minutes? With a sigh, he grabbed a plate of pudding, prodding at it half-heartedly with his fork. "So, who do you think will be the Hogwarts Champion?" he asked irritably.
Harry scanned the hall and spotted Fred and George sitting at the far end of the table. "I hope it's Angelina," he whispered.