The last class of the day finished half an hour early for everyone.
Students rushed back to their dormitories, scrambling to change into their neat Hogwarts uniforms.
Charlie was dressed neatly, the black robes making his shoulders look wider and his posture upright. His features were clearly defined, and while his expression was slightly casual, his eyes were clear and bright.
The Entrance Hall was already packed with people.
The Deans stood in front of their respective House lines, their expressions serious.
"Line up! Sorted by height!" Professor McGonagall's voice rang out through the noise.
Slytherin was the fastest, lining up neatly in no time, with Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw following close behind.
Meanwhile, the chaos among the Gryffindor students was comparable to a tornado destroying a parking lot.
"Miss Patil!" Professor McGonagall suddenly raised her voice.
"Take that ridiculous thing off your head!"
Parvati reluctantly took off her butterfly headpiece, and Lavender next to her patted her shoulder sympathetically.
The Prefects were arranged at the front of the lines, and the Head Student stood with the Professors.
Charlie had intended to blend into the crowd, but Dumbledore called him over to stand next to the Professors.
Charlie could only stand there obediently, feeling countless gazes fixed upon him from behind.
"How are they going to arrive?" someone whispered in the crowd.
"They must be flying."
"No kidding, are they going to walk all the way?"
"Maybe they'll come out of the fireplace."
"There's no fireplace in the Entrance Hall, idiot."
Arguments broke out one after another, forcing Professor McGonagall to restore order again.
Just then, someone pointed to the sky and yelled.
"Look! What is that!"
Everyone looked up. A dark shadow appeared in the night sky. At first, its shape was unclear; only a vague outline could be seen.
The shadow drew closer, and the lights of the Castle illuminated it.
It was a huge powder-blue carriage, roughly the size of a house. Pulling the carriage were twelve winged horses.
Once the carriage flew closer, Charlie gained a clear understanding of its size.
Each of the twelve horses pulling the carriage was roughly the size of an elephant, and their wings spread out, blotting out the sky.
The moment the hooves landed, the ground trembled.
"How much oats must these horses eat?" Ron muttered softly from the back.
The carriage door opened, and a boy wearing light blue robes jumped down, smoothly producing a golden spiral staircase.
He fixed the spiral staircase to the side of the door, then respectfully stepped aside.
A black high-heeled shoe emerged from the carriage; the foot was the size of a skateboard.
Immediately afterward, a woman stepped out of the carriage.
She was dressed in black satin, and her jewelry sparkled in the night. Her hair was pulled back and coiled into a neat bun at the nape of her neck.
Her height rivaled Hagrid's, and she possessed a distinguished demeanor standing there.
Dumbledore led the applause.
"Welcome, welcome! Madame Maxime!" His voice was booming.
Madame Maxime's voice was deep and rich, carrying a distinct French accent.
"Dumbledore, it is a pleasure to see you."
"Did you have a smooth journey?" Dumbledore asked with a smile.
"Not bad, though the weather is a little cold." Madame Maxime turned and called into the carriage.
"Come down, all of you. Don't dawdle."
About twelve or thirteen students filed out of the carriage.
There were boys and girls, dressed in exquisite but thin silk robes, shivering in the late October night air.
Several girls tightly wrapped scarves around their heads, and others rubbed their arms for warmth.
They looked up at Hogwarts Castle, their eyes filled with curiosity and awe.
Madame Maxime glanced around.
"Dumbledore, has Karkaroff arrived?"
"Not yet," Dumbledore replied with a smile.
"Perhaps you would like to step inside the Castle and warm up? It's quite cold out here."
"Thank you very much." Madame Maxime nodded, but her gaze fell upon the twelve giant horses.
"But the horses... they require proper care."
"Our Care of Magical Creatures Class Professor will be delighted to look after them." Dumbledore turned to Hagrid.
"Isn't that right, Hagrid?"
Hagrid did not respond.
He stood there, staring intently at Madame Maxime, his mouth slightly agape.
Madame Maxime noticed his gaze and politely nodded toward him.
Hagrid's face instantly flushed, turning as red as a boiled lobster.
Charlie couldn't stand it anymore and gently kicked Hagrid's shin.
Only then did Hagrid snap out of his trance, suddenly coming back to his senses. He frantically wiped his hands and stammered.
"Y-yes! I will take good care of these horses! Very good horses, very beautiful, I mean, they are very... very beautiful!"
Madame Maxime's expression was slightly subtle, but she maintained a polite smile.
"I appreciate your trouble, then."
She looked at Charlie.
"This must be Mr. White."
"Yes, Madam." Charlie nodded politely.
A hint of admiration flashed in Madame Maxime's eyes.
"I read about you in the papers. What you did at the Quidditch World Cup was truly remarkable."
"Later, upon looking into it, I discovered you already possess extraordinary accomplishments in Transfiguration and Potions. Truly admirable."
"You flatter me." Charlie smiled.
"Madame Maxime, it's windy outside. Please take your students into the Castle to warm up first."
"We shall impose, then."
Madame Maxime turned and spoke a few words to the students behind her in French.
The students, dressed in thin silk robes, immediately formed a line. Several girls tightened their scarves, but their eyes couldn't help but glance toward Charlie.
"Hagrid!" Professor McGonagall's stern voice suddenly rang out.
Hagrid was still staring at Madame Maxime's retreating figure.
Seeing Professor McGonagall glaring at him, he hastily withdrew his gaze, his face red as a tomato.
Watching this scene, Charlie sighed internally, feeling that Hogwarts was truly depressing this year.
Not long after, strange sounds came from the Black Lake.
At first, it was just a low humming sound, like giant bees flapping their wings underwater.
The sound grew louder, and the lake surface began to churn.
"Look over there!" someone shouted, pointing toward the center of the lake.
The calm surface of the lake suddenly exploded, sending spray high into the air. A massive whirlpool appeared in the center of the lake, and the black water swirled downwards.
In the center of the whirlpool, a dark shape slowly emerged.
It was a ship.
To be precise, it was an ancient sailing ship that looked like it should be resting on the seabed. Its hull was covered in moss and barnacles, and tattered black sails hung from its masts. The figurehead was carved into a ferocious sea monster, whose eye sockets glowed with an eerie green light.
The ship slowly sailed toward the shore, water cascading off its hull. The sound of the anchor chain dropping was particularly grating in the night air.
The gangplank was lowered, and a group of people emerged from the cabin.
"My god, do the Durmstrang people grow up on feed?" Ron gasped.
That line of figures was indeed frighteningly robust, each one broad-shouldered and imposing, walking with an air of momentum.
Only when they drew closer could they see clearly. It turned out that every person was draped in heavy black fur cloaks.
The cloak of the person leading them was silver-white.
He strode toward Dumbledore, opening his arms.
"Dumbledore!" His voice was smooth.
"Old friend, you look well."
"I am very well, thank you, Professor Karkaroff." Dumbledore smiled and shook his hand.
Karkaroff was tall and thin, his white short hair meticulously combed, and he sported a carefully trimmed goatee on his chin.
He smiled warmly, but Charlie noticed that there was no trace of humor in his grey eyes.
He was a wolf in sheep's clothing.
"Hogwarts is just as I remember it." Karkaroff looked around.
"It's good to be here."
Charlie glanced at the Durmstrang students. Most of them were very robust, with grim expressions.
They scrutinized Hogwarts Castle, their eyes filled with appraisal.
"Harry!" Ron suddenly patted Harry's arm excitedly.
"Look at the guy at the back!"
Harry followed his gaze.
At the very end of the Durmstrang line walked a young man with a hooked nose and thick eyebrows.
"It's Krum!"
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