navygreen | Reading from Goblet of Fire. (Reply)

I'm to read the first and last paragraphs of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire for today's task in the 'Five Days of Harry Potter FUNTIME! event. I intend to read the entire chapters, however, and post a bit more than just one paragraph in each case. Here goes (and there will be spoilers below if you've not read the books):

Chapter One: "The Riddle House"

"The villagers of Little Hangleton still called it 'the Riddle House,' even though it had been many years since the Riddle family had lived there. It stood on a hill overlooking the village, some of its windows boarded, tiles missing from its roof, and ivy spreading unchecked over its face. Once a fine-looking manor, and easily the largest and grandest building for miles around, the Riddle House was now damp, derelict, and unoccupied.

The Little Hangletons all agreed that the old house was 'creepy.' Half a century ago, something strange and horrible had happened there, something that the older inhabitants of the village still liked to discuss when topics for gossip were scarce. The story had been picked over so many times, and had been embroidered in so many places, that nobody was quite sure what the truth was anymore. Every version of the tale, however, started in the same place: Fifty years before, at daybreak on a fine summer's morning, when the Riddle House had still been well kept and impressive, a maid had entered the drawing room to find all three Riddles dead.

The maid had run screaming down the hill into the village and roused as many people as she could.

'Lying there with their eyes wide open! Cold as ice! Still in their dinner things!'

The police were summoned, and the whole of Little Hangleton had seethed with shocked curiosity and ill-disguised excitement. Nobody wasted their breath pretending to feel very sad about the Riddles, for they had been most unpopular. Elderly Mr. and Mrs. Riddle had been rich, snobbish, and rude, and their grown-up son, Tom, had been, if anything, worse. All the villagers cared about was the identity of their murderer--for plainly, three apparently healthy people did not all drop dead of natural causes on the same night.

The Hanged Man, the village pub, did a roaring trade that night; the whole village seemed to have turned out to discuss the murders. They were rewarded for leaving their firesides when the Riddles' cook arrived dramatically in their midst and announced to the suddenly silent pub that a man called Frank Bryce had just been arrested.

'Frank!' cried several people. 'Never!'

Frank Bryce was the Riddles' gardener. He lived alone in a run-down cottage on the ground of the Riddle House. Frank had come back from the war with a very stiff leg and a great dislike of crowds and loud noises, and had been working for the Riddles ever since.

...

But over in the neighboring town of Great Hangleton, in the dark and dingy police station, Frank was stubbornly repeating, again and again, that he was innocent, and that the only person he had seen near the house on the day of the Riddles' deaths had been a teenage boy, a stranger, dark-haired and pale. Nobody else in the village had seen such a boy, and the police were quite sure that Frank had invented him.

Then, just when things were looking very serious for Frank, the report on the Riddles' bodies came back and changed everything.

The police had never read an odder report. A team of doctors had examined the bodies and had concluded that none of the Riddles had been poisoned, stabbed, shot, strangled, suffocated, or (as far as they could tell) harmed at all. In fact (the report continued, in a tone of unmistakable bewilderment), the Riddles all had appeared to be in perfect health--apart from the fact that they were all dead. The doctors did note (as though determined to find something wrong with the bodies) that each of the Riddles ha d a look of terror upon his or her face--but as the frustrated police said, whoever heard of three people being frightened to death?"

Chapter Thirty-Seven: "The Beginning"

"The rest of the journey passed pleasantly enough; Harry wished it could have gone on all summer, in fact, and that he would never arrive at King's Cross... but as he had learned the hard way that year, time will not slow down when something unpleasant lies ahead, and all too soon, the Hogwarts Express was pulling in at platform nine and three-quarters. The usual confusion and noise filled the corridors as the students began to disembark. Ron and Hermione struggled out past Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, carrying their trunks. Harry, however, stayed put.

'Fred--George--wait a moment.'

The twins turned. Harry pulled open his trunk and drew out his Triwizard winnings.

'Take it,' he said, and he thrust the sack into George's hands.

'What?' said Fred, looking flabbergasted.

'Take it,' Harry repeated firmly. 'I don't want it.'

'You're mental,' said George, trying to push it back at Harry.

'No, I'm not,' said Harry. 'You take it, and get inventing. It's for the joke shop.'

'He is mental,' Fred said in an almost awed voice.

'Listen,' said Harry firmly. 'If you don't take it, I'm throwing it down the drain. I don't want it and I don't need it. But I could do with a few laughs. We could all do with a few laughs. I've got a feeling we're going to need them more than usual before long.'

'Harry,' said George weakly, weighing the money bag in his hands, 'there's got to be a thousand Galleons in here.'

'Yeah,' said Harry grinning. 'Think how many Canary Creams that is.'

The twins stared at him.

'Just don't tell your mum where you got it... although she might not be so keen for you to join the Ministry anymore, come to think of it...'

'Harry,' Fred began, but Harry pulled out his wand.

'Look,' he said flatly, 'take it, or I'll hex you. I know some good ones now. Just do me one favor, okay? Buy Ron some different dress robes and say they're from you.'

He left the compartment before they could say another word, stepping over Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were still lying on the floor, covered in hex marks.

Uncle Vernon was waiting beyond the barrier. Mrs. Weasley was close by him. She hugged Harry very tightly when she saw him and whispered in his ear, 'I think Dumbledore will let you come to us later in the summer. Keep in touch, Harry.'

'See you, Harry,' said Ron, clapping him on the back.

''Bye, Harry!' said Hermione, and she did something she had never done before, and kissed him on the cheek.

'Harry--thanks,' George muttered, while Fred nodded fervently at this side.

Harry winked at them, turned to Uncle Vernon, and followed him silently from the station. There was no point worrying yet, he told himself, as he got into the back of the Dursleys' car.

As Hagrid had said, what would come, would come... and he would have to meet it when he did."