A heavy rainstorm had thoroughly disrupted Harry and his friends' daily routine. After dinner in the Great Hall, when they'd emerged into the entrance hall with plans for their evening run, the floodwaters was still pooling up to the marble steps creating what was essentially a small lake and completely dashed their hopes of going for their usual exercise.
However, this unexpected disruption also brought some amusement to the young wizards, especially the more adventurous ones. Fred and George were the very first to shed their school robes without hesitation, stripping down to their undies and jumping enthusiastically into the water to play and splash.
They were quickly followed by Neville, and several Hufflepuff students emboldened by the Gryffindor's courage. And then more and more boys, unable to resist the temptation, leaped in to frolic wildly in the impromptu pool, treating it like a summer swimming hole.
Within minutes, dozens of heads bobbed up and down in the undulating waves, laughing and shouting.
Professor McGonagall, who had returned to her office after dinner to work overtime on paperwork, happened to look out her window at precisely the wrong moment. She saw the young wizards "struggling" in the water below, their heads disappearing beneath the surface.
She was so frightened, so terrified that something terrible had happened, that she nearly jumped out of her office window in her panic to reach them faster. Her heart stopped, her breath was caught, and for a horrible moment she was certain she was witnessing a mass drowning.
When she rushed downstairs at a dead run, wand drawn and ready to rescue students, only to learn the actual truth that they were playing, swimming for entertainment—the fury that erupted in that instant was spectacular to witness.
The rage was so intense that it made even the flames of the torches in the entrance hall tremble and flicker as if blown by a violent wind.
Every single student who had gone into the water lost ten house points on the spot. And furthermore, they would all face a full week of detention with Filch, doing whatever unpleasant tasks he could devise.
Judging by the number of students who received this punishment, Filch wouldn't lack for help or entertainment until the very end of term. He'd probably be grinning for weeks.
"Where are Potter and Weasley? Don't tell me they're still in the water!"
In the entrance hall, which had become something of a courtroom, the soaking wet young wizards who had been pulled from the water stood obediently in shivering lines with their heads bowed, water pooling at their feet. They endured the lecture in dejected silence, knowing better than to argue.
When Professor McGonagall's sharp, hawk-like gaze swept across all their dripping faces but failed to find Harry Potter and Ron Weasley—whom she was certain must have participated in this dangerous game, her heart skipped a beat with new fear.
"Oh, we're here, Professor McGonagall!"
Standing safely on the stone stairs leading to the second floor with their dry classmates, watching the entire spectacle with amusement from a distance, Harry and Ron raised their hands simultaneously like students answering a question in class. Ron was the one who spoke up cheerfully.
"Oh, you didn't go in the water?"
Professor McGonagall looked at the completely dry-clothed Harry and Ron with a very surprised expression, her eyebrows were rising nearly to her hairline. Then, recovering from her shock, she nodded with approval, her stern expression softened slightly.
"Very wise indeed, gentlemen. It seems you've finally realized that your behavior should match your age and position as older students. You're setting an example. In contrast, Mister... Longbottom!"
Professor McGonagall's gaze swung heartbrokenly at Neville, who was smiling rather nonchalantly despite being soaked to the skin and shivering.
"Where is your usual modesty and caution, Mr. Longbottom? What happened to the sensible young man I thought you were becoming? Oh, regarding what happened today, I will definitely be writing to your grandmother about this incident. Your parents—"
She turned her glare on the Weasley twins.
"And you two, Fred and George! If you wish, if you continue this behavior, your parents can come to Hogwarts personally to take you home for the remainder of the term!"
"This is completely prejudiced—"
In the crowd of students being driven upstairs by Professor McGonagall, who was herding them like sheep toward their dormitories, Ron shrugged and muttered to Harry.
"She automatically assumed we must have gone in too! She was ready to punish us without even checking."
"Oh, in fact, you did plan to go in, didn't you, Ron?"
Hermione, walking beside them, giggled a few times, her eyes were twinkling with amusement.
"You managed to escape punishment purely because you promised to help me practice spells tonight."
With the third task of the Triwizard Tournament approaching rapidly, the champions had all begun preparing in advance, training intensively for whatever might come.
Although there had been no news or hints about the competition format so far, this final task would ultimately test the champions' courage and skills, testing their ability to solve complex problems with magic.
So, since late May had arrived, Harry and Ron had been diligently finding time to help Hermione practice various spells and scenarios, running through possibilities and strategies.
At nine o'clock in the evening, after two solid hours of practice, they finally left the abandoned classroom on the third floor that had become their regular training space. They returned to the Gryffindor common room, tired but satisfied with the progress.
They didn't need to use Harry's Invisibility Cloak for concealment tonight—Hermione had recently mastered the Disillusionment Charm after considerable effort, and she used it skillfully to help them avoid Mrs. Norris's pursuit through the corridors.
When they climbed through the portrait hole past the Fat Lady, who grumbled sleepily about the late hour, they found the celebration party in the common room wasn't over yet. The students were still celebrating the "brave acts" of several Gryffindors who had gone swimming earlier that evening, treating them like conquering heroes.
Neville was actually standing on a table, gesturing wildly and boasting to Dean Thomas that if Professor McGonagall hadn't called him up and interrupted, he had originally planned to swim all the way out into the Black Lake itself to meet those ugly merpeople face-to-face!
His audience cheered and laughed.
Ron was pulled away by Lavender in the blink of an eye, practically dragged into a corner. Harry knew his friend wouldn't be back for quite a while, and when he did eventually return, there would probably be some "wounds" on his neck.
Turning around, feeling suddenly alone in the crowded room, Harry found Hermione looking directly at him. Her clear brown eyes sparkled knowingly in the steady golden candlelight.
"Want to talk, Harry?"
Harry's eyelids twitched slightly. He immediately realized that the hidden worry that had been lurking in his heart since the day Percy had visited Professor Watson's office had been perceived by Hermione.
She must have noticed something was off with him, though it was hard to say exactly how much she had guessed or deduced from his behavior. Based on Harry's understanding of Hermione, she had probably guessed pretty close to the truth before even approaching him.
"Oh, maybe next time, Hermione—"
Harry said quickly, perhaps too quickly. This trouble was unusual, deeply disturbing. He had felt something akin to an intention to kill toward Percy and Professor Watson—very strong, murderous intent. He had almost acted on it.
He still didn't fully understand what had come over him then, what had possessed him. Or rather, he was unwilling to face the answer that frightened him so badly.
"I'm a bit tired today."
After saying this, he bid Hermione a hasty farewell and turned quickly toward the spiral staircase leading to the boys' dormitory.
After a quick wash, Harry jumped onto his four-poster bed. Now, he was the only one in the dim dormitory, the others were still downstairs celebrating or occupied with their girlfriends.
The quiet dormitory didn't make him feel lonely at all; instead, surprisingly, it gave him a sense of security and relief. He was afraid, genuinely afraid that he might suddenly lose control and attack the roommates he spent day and night with.
After the rain had finally passed, summer had arrived suddenly.
Waking suddenly from his sleep, Harry could hear the noisy chirping from the Forbidden Forest coming through the open window into the dormitory.
He propped himself up groggily in the darkness, fumbled around at his bedside table for a moment with clumsy fingers, then found and put on his glasses.
By the bright, full moonlight coming through the window, Harry saw that everyone had returned to the dormitory while he slept. Neville and Ron were sprawling out unconsciously on their beds, snoring softly.
He glanced at the gold watch Professor Watson had given him last Christmas, which sat on his bedside table. The hour hand pointed to '12'.
Harry didn't know why himself, but he began to get dressed almost automatically. Pullover, trousers, socks, shoes, moving quietly to avoid waking anyone. And then he quietly fished out his Invisibility Cloak from his school bag.
When Harry came down to the common room through the dormitory entrance, the moonlit room had already been tidied up. Harry was certain he saw a dark shadow flash quickly past the fireplace that was still emitting a few wisps of dying smoke. That small figure was definitely not a wizard—it could only be a house-elf.
"Dobby?"
Harry asked softly, but the little creature hiding behind the curtain only trembled a few times and didn't come out or respond.
'Apparently not Dobby,' Harry thought with disappointment. Before leaving the common room, Harry put on his Invisibility Cloak, pulling it over his head and adjusting it carefully.
The Fat Lady in the portrait complained resentfully behind him about being woken yet again, but Harry ignored her. He descended the tower's staircase rapidly, taking the steps two at a time. His hurried footsteps echoed through the empty castle, sounding unnaturally loud in the sleeping silence.
Whoosh!
On the third-floor landing, Harry gasped a few times, catching his breath, then turned and walked toward the long corridor where moonlight casted shadows on the floor through the tall windows.
The midnight breeze coming through the open windows made Harry's thoughts clearer, sharper, though anxiety still gnawed at him. As he gradually approached that office, his heartbeat began to accelerate uncontrollably, pounding in his ears.
But besides Professor Watson, who else at Hogwarts could possibly answer his doubts?
Oh, of course, Professor Dumbledore surely knew too. To this day, people still considered Dumbledore to be the wizard Voldemort feared most.
Although Harry fully trusted Professor Dumbledore, the thought of knocking on the headmaster's office door in the middle of the night to ask about his scar, to ask what was going on with the strangeness in his body—this was a severe test of Harry's courage.
But when Harry finally arrived at Professor Watson's office door, walking quickly down the familiar corridor, he let out a disappointed sigh that deflated his chest.
No light shone through the crack under the door. It was completely dark. It seemed Professor Watson was already asleep, contrary to his usual habits.
This wasn't quite normal. Harry knew from many late-night conversations that Professor Watson was a confirmed night owl who usually didn't go to bed until the early morning hours.
He lingered at Professor Watson's door for quite a while, hoping that Professor Watson might get up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night and discover him standing there by chance. It seemed unlikely, but Harry waited anyway.
Unfortunately, after a half an hour of patient waiting, the office remained completely quiet without any sound whatsoever.
A heavy sigh dissipated in the ancient stone corridor, absorbed by the castle itself. Harry reluctantly admitted to himself that his plan for tonight had fallen through completely.
When passing through the corridor again on his way back, preparing to return to Gryffindor Tower, Harry casually glanced up toward the various towers.
He was surprised to find that the lights were still on in the small tower where Professor Dumbledore's office was located, glowing warmly against the night sky. The headmaster apparently hadn't gone to sleep yet, and was still probably working.
Just as Harry was hesitating whether to try his luck with Professor Dumbledore instead, to see if there might be some unexpected gain—
CRACK!
At one corner of the Forbidden Forest, a massive golden thunderbolt suddenly descended from the cloudless night sky without warning.
There had been no storm, no clouds, nothing to herald it.
The overwhelming pressure that came with the violent wind made Harry genuinely fearful—even the space in his vision became blurred!
The next second, a surging golden sea of fire like gigantic tsunami waves rose from the pitch-black horizon into the sky, climbing high. It spread like a ceiling covering a large part of the Forbidden Forest, turning night into artificial day. The dazzling light was so intense, that it even made Harry think for a confused moment that the sun had somehow risen hours early.
"I'll only say this once!"
A high-pitched, cold voice rang out, enveloping the Forbidden Forest, Hogwarts, and even Hogsmeade.
"Submit or be destroyed—you have only these two choices!"
BOOM!
In an instant, Hogwarts castle erupted into complete chaos.
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