Durmstrang was taking a very long time to arrive, so long that many people were beginning to look impatient.
Even the whispers had died away, leaving everything quiet.
More and more people pulled their robes tight around them, stamping their feet to keep themselves barely warm. Quite a few young wizards had abandoned any notion of staying in line and huddled together against the cold wind, occasionally looking up at the sky for any sign of Durmstrang Institute's arrival.
Su Er slipped quietly into the Gryffindor line, took off his scarf, and wrapped it around Hermione's neck.
Just then, a new sound came-a very loud, very strange sound, like an enormous vacuum cleaner moving along a riverbed, a dull rumbling and sucking noise.
Ripples suddenly spread across the still Black Lake, and huge splashes broke its surface. Waves battered the damp shore as an enormous whirlpool appeared in the very middle of the lake.
"In the lake!" a young wizard shouted. "Look at the lake!"
The young wizard had barely finished speaking when a long black pole slowly rose from the center of the whirlpool.
"It's a mast!" another young wizard said.
First came the mast, then the sails, then the bow and the hull. The ship emerged from the lake at an upward angle, slowly but steadily rising entirely above the surface. Lake water streamed down its decks and sides, striking the lake with a clear, pleasant sound. Everyone turned to look.
In the moonlight, it looked like the wreck of a sunken ship that had just been salvaged, its portholes glimmering with a dim, misty light.
Could this be where the Muggle world's legends of ghost ships at sea came from? Su Er rubbed his chin, unable to help wondering.
The great ship drew up to the shore.