book 4 - harry potter and the goblet of fire

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harry potter and the goblet of fire by j.k. rowling 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 hagletons 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 …

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ers. 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 grounds 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. there was a rush to buy the cook drinks and hear more details. “always thought he was odd,” she told the eagerly listening villagers, after her fourth sherry. “unfriendly, like. i’m sure if i’ve offered him a cuppa once, i’ve offered it a hundred times. never wanted to mix, he didn’t.” “ah, now,” said a woman at the bar, “he had …

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in the village had seen any such boy, and the police were quite sure 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, strangles, 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 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 had a look of terror upon his or her face — but as the frustrated police said, whoever heard of three …

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ardening, however. frank was nearing his seventy-seventh birthday now, very deaf, his bad leg stiffer than ever, but could be seen pottering around the flower beds in fine weather, even though the weeds were starting to creep up on him, try as he might to suppress them. weeds were not the only things frank had to contend with either. boys from the village made a habit of throwing stones through the windows of the riddle house. they rode their bicycles over the lawns frank worked so hard to keep smooth. once or twice, they broke into the old house for a dare. they knew that old frank’s devotion to the house and the grounds amounted almost to an obsession, and it amused them to see him limping across the garden, brandishing his stick and yelling croakily at them. frank, for his part, believed the boys tormented him because they, like …

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ff into the night. the front door of the riddle house bore no sign of being forced, nor did any of the windows. frank limped around to the back of the house until he reached a door almost completely hidden by ivy, took out the old key, put it into the lock, and opened the door noiselessly. he let himself into the cavernous kitchen. frank had not entered it for many years; nevertheless, although it was very dark, he remembered where the door into the hall was, and he groped his way towards it, his nostrils full of the smell of decay, ears pricked for any sound of footsteps or voices from overhead. he reached the hall, which was a little lighter owing to the large mullioned windows on either side of the front door, and started to climb the stairs, blessing the dust that lay thick upon the stone, …

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harry potter and the goblet of fire by j.k. rowling 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 hagletons 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 …

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