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Harry shook his head, pushing thoughts of the dragon aside, and pulled out the golden egg. "Hermione, do you know what this thing is actually hiding?"
Since cheating was already a done deal, Harry figured he might as well commit.
For brain-melting puzzle-solving like this, fumbling around on his own seemed pointless when the amazing Hermione existed.
If you're going to cheat, cheat properly.
Cheat once, feel great. Keep cheating, keep feeling great.
Once he had the answer, he could find a way to pass it along to Cedric too, a decent thing to do, one Hogwarts champion to another.
Aside from asking the amazing Hermione, he genuinely couldn't think of a second option.
Hermione glanced at the egg, then at the three of them, and beckoned. "Follow me."
She led them across the castle all the way to the entrance of the girls' bathroom.
Hermione pushed the door open. "In you go."
Ginny walked in first.
Harry thought about it for a second, it wasn't like this was his first time, and went in after her.
Dracola hesitated in the doorway. Ginny turned back, baffled, and grabbed her by the arm.
"What are you doing? Why is your face red? Are you sick?"
Dracola bit her lip.
How exactly was she supposed to answer that?
Inside the bathroom.
"What are we doing here?" Harry asked, looking around.
Hermione pointed at the large sunken bath in the center and said simply, "Take your clothes off. Get in."
"G-Get in?!" Harry's face went scarlet immediately, and his words came out in a stammer. "That's — that's not really —"
He couldn't help sneaking a glance at Ginny and Dracola beside him.
Ginny was just as red, head dropped low in embarrassment.
Dracola's eyes were darting everywhere, her hands twisting the hem of her robes like she was trying to wring them dry.
Hermione's gaze settled on Dracola.
Seriously, why are you blushing?
Had Malfoy gone and developed some kind of weird fixation after being turned into a girl?
Sensing Hermione's stare, Dracola flinched visibly.
"You're overthinking it," Hermione said, waving a hand at Harry. "Just you. We'll wait over here."
She paused, then added with a trace of mischief she didn't bother hiding, "And at most, we'll let Moaning Myrtle keep you company. She's been keen on you for quite a while."
"Huh?" Harry didn't even have time to react before Hermione shoved him straight into the bath.
A translucent figure slipped through the wall and drifted toward the bath, Moaning Myrtle.
She spotted Harry and her eyes lit up. She swooped in close, voice going soft and syrupy. "Oh, Harry~ You finally came to see me~"
That sticky-sweet tone sent a full-body shudder through Harry. He nearly vaulted straight back out of the water.
Then the golden egg in his hand touched the surface.
CLICK!
Cracks split across the smooth shell, and an instant later, a shriek erupted, ear-splitting, violent, rattling the entire bathroom until the walls hummed.
Harry's head nearly came apart. He gritted his teeth against the pain and listened hard, just barely catching what sounded like some kind of song buried underneath all that noise. Fragmented. Strange. It made his scalp crawl.
Eventually it stopped. The egg sealed itself shut again.
Harry dragged himself out of the bath, soaking wet, hair plastered to his face.
"Well," Hermione said, arms folded, watching him. "Figure it out?"
Harry looked at her blankly.
Ginny and Dracola looked equally lost.
Figure out what, exactly?
Hermione took in their three identically vacant expressions and let out a long-suffering sigh.
"The lyrics mean the second task involves water. The location is the Black Lake here at Hogwarts. What you'll be up against is the merpeople living at the bottom."
That did it. Harry, Ginny, and Dracola all lit up at once.
"That's what it meant!" Harry said.
The amazing Hermione had, without breaking a sweat, done exactly what the rest of them couldn't.
...
The next day.
To get a proper look at what they were dealing with, Hermione brought Harry, Ginny, and Dracola down to the shore of the Black Lake.
"Alright, merpeople, got it," Harry said, staring out at the flat, still water. "But what exactly will the task look like?"
"That part I don't know," Hermione said airily.
As she said it, her gaze drifted to Ginny and Dracola. A smile spread across her face that had no business being that unsettling.
Both of them felt it immediately, a cold prickle climbing up their spines.
Ginny swallowed. "Hermione," she said carefully, keeping her voice small, "the look you just gave us was genuinely terrifying."
Dracola said nothing. She simply edged behind Ginny, face pale.
Footsteps crunched nearby.
Another group was making its way toward the lake, students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. Krum and Fleur both glanced over at Harry and Hermione, and for just a moment, surprise flickered across their faces.
So they'd cracked the egg too. Here for the same reason.
Champions were champions for a reason.
The two groups regarded each other briefly, the air between them carrying a certain charge.
What no one expected was for Fleur to break away and walk straight toward Hermione, no hesitation, no maintaining of distance. Her strides were deliberate. Her eyes didn't leave Hermione's face. Something in them burned.
She stopped a foot away and held Hermione's gaze without flinching.
Everyone around them went quiet.
Fleur looked at her for a moment, then slowly extended her hand.
Hermione raised an eyebrow. She reached out and shook it.
"Miss Sorceress." Fleur's voice was clear and steady. "Your name has reached Beauxbatons long before this meeting. It is an honor."
Hermione felt the strength in her grip, the warmth of her palm, and the thing blazing openly in those eyes. Fighting spirit? Hunger? Some ferocious kind of wanting?
So this was Beauxbatons' champion. The reputation was deserved.
Hermione's name had traveled far in the magical world, her feats, her title. A witch like Fleur, exceptional and proud, would have taken notice long ago. She'd probably been waiting for a chance to do exactly this.
Fleur released her hand and stepped back. Her wand came out. Her expression shifted into something solemn.
"Miss Hermione Granger." Her voice rang out, carrying a fervor that bordered on reverence. "I, Fleur Delacour, stand before you today to solemnly,"
A formal challenge? A duel?
Hermione read the fire in Fleur's eyes, the set of her jaw, and started working out the possibilities.
Some kind of I-bow-to-no-one conviction? Veela pride given form? This girl clearly wanted to be taken seriously, wanted the kind of name that commanded respect, the way "Sorceress" did.
If so, she'd meet it properly. No condescension.
Then Fleur finished her sentence.
And Hermione nearly tripped over her own feet.
"— ask for an autograph and a photo together!"
➤ Next: Stop Looking, She's Your Sister-in-Law Now
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