"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," said Dumbledore. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, J.K Rowling, ch. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard. When the puddings too had been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. "Spotted dick, look! Chocolate gateau!"īut Hermione gave him a look so reminiscent of Professor McGonagall that he gave up. "Treacle tart, Hermione!" said Ron, deliberately wafting its smell toward her. Another clap of thunder shook the windows, and the stormy ceiling flashed, illuminating the golden plates as the remains of the first course vanished and were replaced, instantly, with puddings. The rain was still drumming heavily against the high, dark glass. "Slave labor," said Hermione, breathing hard through her nose. "You won't get them sick leave by starving yourself!" "Oh c'mon, 'Er-my-knee," said Ron, accidentally spraying Harry with bits of Yorkshire pudding. Hermione looked down at her hardly touched plate of food, then put her knife and fork down upon it and pushed it away from her. "House-elves don't want sick leave and pensions!" "Sick leave and pensions?" he said, pushing his head back onto his shoulders and securing it once more with his ruff. Nearly Headless Nick chortled so much that his ruff slipped and his head flopped off, dangling on the inch or so of ghostly skin and muscle that still attached it to his neck. "They get holidays, don't they? And - and sick leave, and pensions, and everything?" I mean, you're not supposed to see them, are you? That's the mark of a good house-elf, isn't it, that you don't know it's there?" "They come out at night to do a bit of cleaning. "Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they?" said Nearly Headless Nick. "The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. "Certainly," said Nearly Headless Nick, looking surprised at her reaction. "There are house-elves here?" she said, staring, horror-struck, at Nearly Headless Nick. Pumpkin juice spread steadily over the tablecloth, staining several feet of white linen orange, but Hermione paid no attention. Hermione had knocked over her golden goblet. Terrified the house- elves out of their wits-" "Oh the usual," said Nearly Headless Nick, shrugging. "Yeah, we thought Peeves seemed hacked off about something," said Ron darkly. We held a ghost's council - the Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance - but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down." He wanted to attend the feast - well, it's quite out of the question, you know what he's like, utterly uncivilized, can't see a plate of food without throwing it. He pulled his ruff a little higher up on his neck. "Peeves, of course," said Nearly Headless Nick, shaking his head, which wobbled dangerously. "Why? Wha' 'appened?" said Harry, through a sizable chunk of steak. "There was trouble in the kitchens earlier." "You're lucky there's a feast at all tonight, you know," said Nearly Headless Nick. "Aaah, 'at's be'er," said Ron, with his mouth full of mashed potato. Nearly Headless Nick watched mournfully as Harry, Ron, and Hermione loaded their own plates. "Hear, hear!" said Harry and Ron loudly as the empty dishes filled magically before their eyes. "I have only two words to say to you," he told them, his deep voice echoing around the Hall. He was smiling around at the students, his arms opened wide in welcome. Professor Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. Harry was feeling extremely well fed and at peace with the world as he watched several gnomes sprinting through the rosebushes, laughing madly and closely pursued by Crookshanks. Weasley conjured up candles to light the darkening garden before they had their homemade strawberry ice cream, and by the time they had finished, moths were fluttering low over the table, and the warm air was perfumed with the smells of grass and honeysuckle. To somebody who had been living on meals of increasingly stale cake all summer, this was paradise, and at first, Harry listened rather than talked as he helped himself to chicken and ham pie, boiled potatoes, and salad. Weasley's excellent cooking, and the nine Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione were settling themselves down to eat beneath a clear, deep-blue sky. 41-2.īy seven o'clock, the two tables were groaning under dishes and dishes of Mrs. Read the text and find out the title of the unit 2 words 11 letters ( COOKING SHOW).
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