It made it easier to study, but that just pushed him further away from her and compounded the problem.
At least when the champions are chosen the excitement will die down and Ron will start talking about something else.
'Aren't Beauxbaton and Durmstrang's students meant to be arriving today,' Alicia asked from across where he sat.
'I think so,' Angelina nodded, 'but I don't know how they're arriving.'
A burst of startled exclamations from by the window drew the attention of everyone in the hall.
'What is that?' Dean came to peer over his shoulder, apparently he had the misfortune of having a good view out the window from where he sat.
'It's a bird,' someone dismissed.
'No, it's a plane,' a muggle-born student cried out to a few sniggers and more than a few blank looks from those raised in the magical world.
'It's Beauxbatons' flying carriage,' a seventh year Ravenclaw announced in a very Hermione-ish manner as it drew closer. 'It's pulled by Abraxan horses.'
The coach was a pale, pastel blue and rather ornate. Its wheels reminded Harry vaguely of the Penny Farthing bicycle in that the rear pair were much larger than the front pair. The entire affair, both winged horses and carriage, disappeared behind the central tower and Harry returned to his book again. A few more unfamiliar faces hardly changed anything here in a school where he knew and recognised at best at a quarter of the students.
Somebody had informed Dumbledore because he and the majority of the Hogwarts staff were now entering the hall, trailed by what appeared to be the remainder of the student body. Harry was more than a little bemused by the air of excitement.
'Something's happening to the lake,' a first year squeaked from the other side of the Great Hall. There was a rush of noise as half the students flowed from one side of the room to the other.
'It's bubbling,' someone cried in surprise.
'There's a ship.'
'It must be Durmstrang,' the Ravenclaw from before declared.
'Do they know about the giant squid?' a girl asked innocently. Harry bit back a laugh. That could be a nasty surprise for the arriving contingent from Durmstrang.
'I heard Durmstrang is in the Czech Republic,' Ron announced loudly from down the table. Harry was almost proud of his friend for not joining the congregation around the window.
'The Czech Republic is a landlocked country, Ron,' Hermione declared with some incredulity. 'Travelling by ship would be very impractical.'
'Me mam said something about Scandinavia,' Seamus added.
'If everyone could find a seat on their house tables,' Dumbledore suggested, his wand held against his throat to magnify his voice over the hubbub. 'Let's give a good impression to our guests.'
There was a scramble back to the tables and Harry found himself squished very tightly in between Katie and another sixth year girl he didn't know. He tucked his elbows in as far as possible to try and separate himself from the warmth of the two of them, but as soon as he made space they seemed to encroach into it again. He took several deep breaths and tried to concentrate on his book as best he could to block out the uneasy nearness of the people around and the annoying tickling sensation of Katie's hair on his arm.
The entrance to the Great hall remained open as it always was, presumably to prevent first years from being trapped behind the heavy doors, so there was a good view of the new arrivals.
Katie's attempts to crane her neck around Harry were making him increasingly aware of her proximity and he leant a little further away.
'Sorry, Harry,' she apologised with a giggle when she realised she was all but lying across him. 'Didn't mean to be so forward.' He gave her a slightly awkward smile in return.
The Durmstrang students were dressed for cold weather the likes of which Scotland would never see and Harry thought Seamus' Scandinavian idea might bear some merit after all. Their headmaster, a silver-haired, sour-faced man with a short, pointed goatee came last, his arm draped about the broad shoulders of his final student.
'That's Viktor Krum,' Ron hissed. A murmur of surprise and admiration spread as the prodigious young seeker entered the hall.
'Igor,' Dumbledore welcomed, arms outspread and eyes twinkling beneath his spectacles. He received a sharp, curt nod in return, something Harry thought slightly rude.
'Madame Maxime, is on her way,' the foreign professor announced in surprisingly unaccented english. 'She stopped to give more precise instructions to your gamekeeper about her Abraxans.'
Dumbledore let his arms drop and continued to smile magnanimously as his counterpart joined him at the elevated table and his students, following Krum's lead, found space on the Slytherin table.
The hall began to fill with whispers as they waited for the French students to arrive.
Harry's attention returned to the pages of his transfiguration book and, consequently, he completely missed the arrival of the Beauxbatons pupils. Harry only realised anything had happened at all when the hall fell eerily silent and he caught Katie mutter, 'that girl is not normal.'
Looking up from his reading material for what he decided would be the last time his eyes roved over an unremarkable group of French witches and a number of glassy-eyed Hogwarts students. One of the witches had oddly familiar platinum hair and sat at the very end of the group of new arrivals on the Ravenclaw table. She looked a little left out of the conversation in the few moments Harry watched them and for a second she reminded him of himself and his currently distant group of friends, but he didn't see anyone to justify Katie's comment.
He raised his book to avoid the sudden arrival of food, something that proved to be wise as its spine only narrowly avoided the appearance of a large bowl of fish stew. It had the largest prawns he had ever seen arrayed neatly around the edge.
It looks quite tasty.
.
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