The main hall of Durmstrang Castle was no smaller than Hogwarts' Great Hall—if anything, it was even larger, and its style was completely different from Hogwarts as well.
There were no four long tables representing different Houses here. In their place were scattered round tables, along with long buffet tables at the edges loaded with food. It actually looked a bit like the layout Hufflepuff used when hosting tea parties in the common room.
At this moment, those round tables were already full of young people dressed in red robes or fur cloaks. Those were the Durmstrang students. There were both boys and girls among them, and their hairstyles varied wildly as well. They looked nothing like the Shaolin warrior-monks Avada had imagined.
Besides them, at a few tables closer to the sides, there were around twenty or so young people wearing elegant pale-blue clothing. When they heard the sound from the doorway, they all turned to look over as well, giving Avada—who had just entered Durmstrang's main hall—a chance to size them up. There were boys and girls among them too. Seated with them was a woman so tall that even half her body seemed taller than anyone else standing upright. When she rose after seeing Dumbledore and Karkaroff enter, she looked even taller.
"Everyone,"
Karkaroff called out to Dumbledore and the towering woman—Madame Maxime.
"Please come to the front with me. The other two gentlemen will be arriving shortly as well..."
At the very front of Durmstrang's hall there was also a row of seats for the faculty, but the middle section had clearly been magically expanded, widened enough to hold about five people. Dumbledore first waved to instruct the Hogwarts students to find some tables and sit down on their own, then walked to the front with Karkaroff and took his seat beside Madame Maxime, one on each side of Karkaroff. The two outermost seats remained empty, clearly reserved for the final two judges of the Triwizard Tournament.
Once the three headmasters and the students had all taken their seats, Durmstrang's local professors also sat down in their places along the faculty row. Then Karkaroff, seated in the center, stood up.
"Good evening! Ladies and gentlemen, and most especially our most welcome and honored guests—"
Karkaroff's warm, delighted voice rang through the entire hall.
"I am greatly honored to welcome you to Durmstrang, and I have no doubt whatsoever that you will spend a comfortable and fulfilling year here, just as you would at your own schools—or in your own homes..."
"Our final two judges still need a little more time before they arrive, so let us begin the feast first! And the Triwizard Tournament we have all been eagerly awaiting will officially commence once this banquet is over..."
"So now, please eat, drink, and enjoy yourselves to your hearts' content, and stir up your spirits for the exciting scenes yet to come!"
With that said, Karkaroff sat back down with a smile. At the same time, the empty plates on every round table were suddenly filled with a great variety of rich dishes, at least half of which Avada had never seen before. Even so, some plates on every table remained empty, or held only a small dish of sauce.
"We're supposed to go to the long tables at the side and serve ourselves."
Cedric smiled and pointed toward the other tables—quite a few local Durmstrang students were already carrying empty plates over to the buffet tables and selecting food with practiced ease.
"It really is just like the way we do tea parties."
"It is."
Baron nodded as well. After all these years, he was already a regular at Hufflepuff tea parties.
"There's no House system here at Durmstrang, and the students don't glare at each other in group units the way they do back at Hogwarts. Being able to chat a bit while picking up food like this isn't bad."
"Or if they cleared away the tables in the middle, they'd have a dance floor right there... By the way, what's this?"
As he chatted, Avada casually spread some sauce on a piece of bread and took a bite, only to discover in surprise that it was a completely new flavor he had never tasted before—and a very good one at that.
"...Cod roe."
After Cedric tried a little and shook his head blankly, Baron took a taste himself and gave the answer at once.
"It's one of the specialties around here. My dad likes it a lot. I'm going to go get some food—anyone coming?"
"I am."
Avada stood up too. He was worried that he might suddenly discover a can of surströmming beside him in the middle of dinner. Hopefully they did not serve that stuff here. He needed to inspect the spread first if he wanted peace of mind.
"Oh, right, speaking of you—"
As they walked toward the buffet tables piled high with food, Baron suddenly remembered something and turned to ask Avada,
"I remember that the champion-selection part of the Triwizard Tournament involves putting your name into the Goblet of Fire. But with your situation..."
"Oh, that's fine."
Avada immediately understood what Baron meant.
"Dumbledore already modified the Book of Admittance ahead of time. Now I can still form the magical contract with the Goblet of Fire using the name 'Ken'... though to Karkaroff, my real name probably isn't exactly unfamiliar anyway."
According to Dumbledore, the Goblet of Fire chose champions by linking itself to each school's "castle consciousness," then letting that consciousness select the champion who best represented it. Although influencing a castle consciousness was an extremely difficult thing to do—and if handled badly, could cause deep systemic damage to the entire castle—the Book of Admittance was a magical device that was both connected to the castle consciousness and specifically responsible for recording names. Combined with Dumbledore's own exceptional skill, simply altering a name was not too much of a problem.
And in truth, that was one of the very few real functions of castle consciousness in the first place. Lucius and the others had only gotten away with their lies because outsiders knew too little. Anyone with even a basic understanding of castle consciousness would have known how ridiculous their claims were. If castle consciousness were really that willful, then what would magical schools even need headmasters for?
"Haha, true enough."
Born into a pure-blood family, Baron naturally knew all about Karkaroff's dark history. He let out a half-amused, half-mocking laugh, though the emotion was swept aside the next moment by the dazzling spread of food on the tables—so much so that Avada could no longer identify well over half of it.
"Oh, I'll have some of this venison."
Avada had no idea how Baron managed to identify a cooked steak at a glance, but Baron cheerfully began adding food to his empty plate, leaving Avada staring in confusion.
"Oh, cream cod soup. I had it once before—really unforgettable. And this too, a French dish, the famous foie gras..."
"..."
Avada silently turned his head away and focused on checking whether any of these dishes contained hidden surströmming products.
Just that morning, he had enjoyed the feeling of riding in a luxurious private jet.
And now he was a country bumpkin all over again.
(End of Chapter)