"Next, you'll draw your order of appearance and the opponent you'll face from this little bag." Bagman held a small cloth bag in his hand, beaming.
Tris stared at the old fellow, utterly speechless.
The man had spent an entire month at Hogwarts. During that time, Crouch had only visited two or three times, apparently to check on the preparations. Yet this old fellow had simply planted himself at the school, seemingly doing nothing all day except grinning at everyone he met.
By the look of things, he intended to hide out until the tournament ended. Well, by then, the people running those betting operations would probably have lost the will to keep chasing him.
The old fellow certainly knew how to pick his hiding spots.
Tris had the leisure to entertain these idle thoughts, but the other two champions weren't quite so relaxed.
Pheobe, who had always worn a frosty expression before, now looked faintly green. She paced back and forth across the room, nibbling her rosy lips, with nervousness all but written across her face.
Even Krum, who had always seemed so composed, had his brow tightly furrowed and appeared to be muttering something under his breath.
Harry was much the same, glancing toward Tris from time to time as though seeking a little comfort. Tris only rolled his eyes at him, however, which left Harry feeling deeply hurt.
Bagman's arrival now signaled that the first task was about to officially begin. They felt both the relief of knowing the wait would soon be over and the anxiety of actually facing a dragon.
"Then let's have our only lady draw first: Miss Fleur Delacour."
Pheobe closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, she looked resigned to her fate. She stepped forward and