Chapter 228: "The Welcoming Feast and a Discovery"

The Great Hall, always a marvel of magical architecture, seemed to shimmer with an extra layer of enchantment as students from all three schools found their seats.

The attention Viktor Krum garnered from the Hogwarts crowd was nothing short of remarkable. Harry, accustomed to being the center of attention, found himself observing the spectacle with a mixture of amusement and relief.

He watched as many students craned their necks, jumping up and down on the soles of their feet to catch a glimpse of the back of Krum's head. Several sixth-year girls were frantically searching their pockets as they walked, their voices carrying across the hall in excited whispers.

"Oh, I don't believe it, I haven't got a single quill on me —"

"D'you think he'd sign my hat in lipstick?"

Reggy, noticing Harry's bemused expression, leaned in with a grin. "The craze for Krum is really something. Harry, you've been betrayed by your fans so easily."

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm thankful he's taken the spotlight. It was starting to get on my nerves. More importantly, I'm grateful that no one's asked me to sign their hat in lipstick. That would have been embarrassing."

Reggy laughed as he and Harry took their seat at the Ravenclaw table. A few seconds later, Roger joined them, his face flushed with excitement after having had his fill of staring at Krum.

The Ravenclaw table was unusually crowded this evening. The Beauxbatons students had chosen to sit among them, their powder-blue uniforms standing out starkly against the sea of black Hogwarts robes. Harry couldn't help but notice their glum expressions as they looked around the Great Hall, clearly unimpressed by their surroundings. Three of them were still clutching scarves and shawls around their heads, as if the Scottish castle's warmth was insufficient for their delicate constitutions.

This apparent disdain for Hogwarts didn't go unnoticed by the host students. Harry could sense a ripple of indignation spreading among his schoolmates, their pride in their ancient school bristling at the Beauxbatons students' thinly veiled contempt. The Beauxbatons students, however, were unbothered.

Meanwhile, across the hall, Viktor Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students had settled themselves at the Slytherin table. The Slytherins, predictably, looked insufferably smug about this arrangement.

Roger, still craning his neck to catch glimpses of Krum, grumbled, "Why did we get stuck with these snobs while the Slytherins got Krum? This is so unfair."

Reggy nudged him sharply. "Roger, you might want to lower your voice. We have company, and it looks like some people heard you. That girl over there is glaring at us now."

Harry followed Reggy's gaze to see none other than Fleur Delacour fixing them with an icy stare. She was sitting opposite Harry, and ever since she had laid eyes on him, she had been glaring daggers in his direction. Harry found her childish display of rivalry rather amusing.

Roger, oblivious to the tension, continued, "I wasn't that loud. I don't think she heard that and is glaring at me. It looks like she's glaring at Harry."

Reggy's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh! It looks like you're right. Harry, why is that beauty glaring at you? Her admirers have started noticing, and you might have enemies soon."

Harry shrugged nonchalantly. "Don't pay attention to her. She's just one of the opponents I defeated in the dueling arena and is being a sore loser."

"Harry," Reggy hissed, "you should have lowered your voice. It seems like she heard that."

Indeed, Fleur had caught every word, her face flushing with anger. In retaliation, she sent the full force of her allure towards Harry. While Harry remained unaffected, his two friends weren't so lucky. Before they could embarrass themselves, however, Harry quickly snapped them out of their stupor with a sharp nudge and a muttered counter-charm.

Reggy blinked rapidly, shaking his head as if to clear it. "What was that?"

Roger, looking equally dazed, mumbled, "It felt like Veela allure."

Harry nodded grimly. "That's because it was. That girl there is a descendant of a Veela. So be careful when you're around her. Her allure can be... potent."

Fleur, visibly frustrated that her attack had failed to affect Harry, was about to try something else when the staff entered, filing up to the top table and taking their seats. Last in line were Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime.

When their headmistress appeared, the pupils from Beauxbatons, including Fleur, leapt to their feet in a display of respect that seemed almost comical in its formality. A few of the Hogwarts students couldn't suppress their laughter, but the Beauxbatons party appeared quite unembarrassed and did not resume their seats until Madame Maxime had taken her place on Dumbledore's left-hand side.

Dumbledore remained standing, and a hush fell over the Great Hall. The headmaster's eyes twinkled as he gazed out over the sea of faces, his presence commanding attention without effort.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and — most particularly — guests," said Dumbledore, beaming around at the foreign students. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

One of the Beauxbatons girls gave what was unmistakably a derisive laugh, earning more ire from the Hogwarts school body. But again they were not bothered one bit. In the canon it was Fleur who laughed but here it was another girl since Fleur had been busy glaring at Harry to do anything.

"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," said Dumbledore. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

With a wave of his hand, the golden plates before them filled with food. The feast was as sumptuous as ever, with an array of dishes that reflected the international nature of the gathering. Alongside the usual Hogwarts fare, Harry could see bouillabaisse, coq au vin, and ratatouille - clearly catering to the Beauxbatons palate. From the Durmstrang end, he spotted hearty stews, pierogies, and what looked like a whole roasted wild boar.

Around him, Harry could hear his fellow Ravenclaws attempting to engage the Beauxbatons students in conversation, with varying degrees of success. Some of the French students were warming up slightly, their initial disdain softening in the face of genuine curiosity and hospitality. Others, however, remained aloof, picking at their food with expressions of mild distaste.

Harry, for his part, was content to focus on his meal. There would be plenty of time to make friends - or rivals - over the coming year. For now, the array of food before him demanded his full attention.

As Harry finished his meal and looked up, his gaze was drawn to two new additions at the staff table: Ludo Bagman and Bartemius Crouch Sr. Harry's eyes lingered on Crouch, a sense of unease prickling at the back of his neck. Something was off about the man, though Harry couldn't quite put his finger on what.

Acting on instinct, Harry secretly took out the Marauder's Map, muttering the activation phrase under his breath. His eyes scanned the staff table on the magical parchment, landing on the name "Barty Crouch". Just Barty Crouch - no "Senior" or "Junior" to distinguish which Crouch it was.

Harry's suspicions deepened. He watched Crouch closely over the next few minutes, noting how the man's mannerisms seemed... off. They didn't match the Crouch Sr. that Harry had seen numerous times at the Bones Manor. Then, he saw it - Crouch discretely gulping from a personal flask.

The pieces clicked into place in Harry's mind. This wasn't Bartemius Crouch Sr. at all - it was Barty Crouch Jr., using Polyjuice Potion to impersonate his father.

This explained why Moody hadn't been replaced by Junior as in the original timeline. Pettigrew must have told Voldemort about the Marauder's Map, and the Dark Lord had realized his original plan was insufficient. A polyjuiced impostor would have been discovered by Harry the moment he entered the castle.

They had now come up with this workaround. Voldemort must have figured out that the map wouldn't distinguish between senior and junior, allowing Junior to replace his father undetected.

Harry had to admit, it was clever. By impersonating his father, Crouch Jr. had access to the Triwizard Cup, ensuring it could be tampered with to enter Charles as a competitor. Harry felt a surge of pride at having unraveled the plot, feeling once again in control of the situation. Now, all he had to do was keep a close eye on the impostor Crouch and anticipate his next move.

As Harry pondered these revelations, the golden plates were magically wiped clean, signaling the end of the main course. Dumbledore rose to his feet once more, and a palpable tension filled the Hall. Even the usually rebellious Weasley twins were now staring at Dumbledore with rapt attention, all thoughts of mischief momentarily forgotten.