"Yes, I took the golden egg with me to bathe."
Facing the curious gazes of Harry, Hermione, and Ron, Sherlock had restrained his earlier laughter, though his lips still curved slightly upward, his eyes hiding some amusement.
On one hand, he was quite satisfied with the process of solving the golden egg's secret.
On the other hand, he was pleased by his friends' surprised and admiring gazes.
He tapped the table lightly with his finger, explaining methodically: "Last night after returning to the common room to the dormitory, I took the golden egg to the Prefects' bathroom on the sixth floor..."
"The Prefects' bathroom?" Ron's eyes widened in surprise. "Sherlock, you actually went to the Prefects' bathroom?"
"What about it?" Sherlock asked back. "Is there a problem?"
Seeing Sherlock's counter-question, Ron didn't know what to say.
It's called the Prefects' bathroom—how could you act so matter-of-fact about it!
"The environment there is quite nice, suitable for independent thinking. Moreover, under circumstances like yesterday, no one would come to disturb me, making it very suitable for verifying my hypothesis. I carried the golden egg into the bathtub, and when the warm water rose above my shoulders and my whole body was submerged, I slowly opened the golden egg's shell..."
"I understand!"
Before Sherlock could finish, Ron suddenly exclaimed excitedly, his voice breaking the common room's tranquility.
He slapped his own thigh hard, his palm colliding with his trousers with a loud "smack": "You have to put the golden egg in water to open it, right? That way the golden egg won't scream like sawing wood as before, but will transmit the secret instead, right? I knew it had to do with water!"
"Don't interrupt Sherlock!" Hermione glared at Ron disapprovingly. This was the second time.
Besides, Sherlock had already reached the step of "submerging in water and opening the golden egg." Anyone with half a brain could guess what came next, yet Ron had to interrupt, which was truly exasperating.
"Oh, sorry, sorry." Ron coughed twice and sat back down sheepishly, unconsciously touching his nose. "I, I was just too excited, couldn't hold back. Sherlock, please continue, don't mind me."
"Just as you said, my dear friend," Sherlock didn't mind Ron's interruption, his tone remaining calm as if the small incident had never occurred. "When I put the golden egg in water and opened it, it indeed stopped screaming and instead emitted a melodious and pleasant singing voice."
"Singing?"
Hearing these two words, Harry's eyes widened considerably, his face full of disbelief.
He still remembered the first time he opened the golden egg, that sharp, ear-piercing sound like a blunt saw cutting wood.
Now Sherlock was saying that was actually singing?
He couldn't help but mutter to himself: that kind of sound could perhaps only be compared to the noise Sherlock made when he didn't play the violin properly.
"That's right, singing," Sherlock said, seeing Harry's shocked expression and smiling slightly, his tone carrying some teasing. "If you're interested, you can try holding the golden egg and doing the same someday. You'll know when you hear it for yourself."
With that, he restrained his smile and continued: "The lyrics went like this:
Come seek us where our voices sound,
We cannot sing above the ground,
And while you're searching, ponder this:
We've taken what you'll sorely miss,
An hour long you'll have to look,
And to recover what we took.
But past an hour — the prospect's black
Too late, it's gone, it won't come back."
As Sherlock's voice fell, Harry, Hermione, and Ron immediately fell into contemplation.
Harry frowned, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the edge of the sofa, trying to connect the lyrics to the Triwizard Tournament task.
Hermione took out her ever-present small notebook and quickly jotted down the lyrics, her pen scratching across the paper, her eyes full of concentration.
Ron stared at the floor with his chin propped up, though his slightly dazed appearance suggested he was still trying to memorize the lyrics.
A moment later, Hermione was unsurprisingly the first to react.
She suddenly raised her head, her eyes flashing with sudden understanding, looking at Sherlock with surprise and admiration:
"Sherlock, I know! The second task's location must be underwater! The lyrics say 'we cannot sing above the ground,' which means the 'we' making the singing are creatures that live in water.
'Taken what you'll sorely miss' should mean these creatures will take something the champions care about underwater. Your task is to dive underwater within an hour and rescue that 'treasure'!"
Harry was only half a beat slower than Hermione, now also understanding, the confusion in his eyes instantly dissipating.
"So that's it! That's why you just said we need to find a way to stay underwater for a long time while being able to engage in strenuous activity. After all, searching for things in the lake definitely requires sufficient stamina. Just holding your breath couldn't possibly last an hour!"
Only Ron was still in a daze.
He blinked, looking at Harry, then at Hermione, and finally scratched his head sheepishly, looking at Sherlock. "Um... Sherlock, you memorized all the lyrics after hearing them once?"
"What else?"
Seeing Sherlock look at him with an expression that said "of course," Ron couldn't help but sigh deeply in his heart.
Comparing yourself to others will only make you angry!
Embarrassingly enough, he had only remembered "one hour" and "sorely miss"...
"So now our primary task is to find a method that allows a person to breathe underwater for at least an hour," Hermione said, putting away her notebook and tapping the table lightly with her finger.
"From the lyrics' clues of 'cannot sing above ground' and 'live underwater,' the creatures that took the 'sorely missed treasure' are most likely merpeople."
"Sorry," Ron couldn't help but interrupt Hermione's statement. "Why must it be merpeople? Aren't there other creatures in the water? Like the giant squid in the lake?"
"Among the underwater creatures we know of that can make sounds, not many cannot survive on land," Harry explained before Hermione could speak. "In the Hogwarts Lake, besides that giant squid, there are only merpeople. Merpeople have a natural habit of singing, which corresponds exactly to the 'singing' in the lyrics. The giant squid can't sing."
"Exactly," Hermione nodded with satisfaction at Harry's explanation.
However, Harry suddenly became somewhat embarrassed: "But, but I'm not very good at swimming."
Before his relationship with the Dursleys improved, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had never let him learn to swim. Dudley had received swimming training when he was young, but Harry didn't think he could do well at it without any foundation.
"What's there to be afraid of? We have Sherlock!" Ron said carelessly. "Sherlock, you definitely know how to swim, right—see, I knew it!"
Harry shook his head. "But that lake is very wide and very deep... The merpeople must live in the deepest part... Besides, we can't always rely only on Sherlock..."
"What are you two talking about?" Hermione looked at Harry and Ron with exasperation.
"Didn't you listen to a single word we just said? Sherlock said from the beginning to find a method for staying in water long-term. The key is the method, not swimming skill! Even a champion swimmer couldn't hold their breath at the bottom of the lake for over an hour! Harry, don't forget you're a wizard, a wizard! You need to think in terms of magic!"
Harry and Ron exchanged glances, both simultaneously realizing that Hermione's words had deeper meaning.
Back in first year when dealing with the Philosopher's Stone, they had complained that Hermione wasn't really a witch.
Although Hermione was definitely their good friend, it now seemed she still couldn't escape certain commonalities of girls—holding grudges.
"So our task going forward is very clear: find a magical means that allows a person to survive underwater for at least an hour without oxygen," Hermione said, slapping the table forcefully, her voice full of determination.
"Fortunately, Sherlock solved the secret quickly enough. We have a full two months to prepare! If we still can't solve the problem with that much time, that would be strange!"
As soon as she finished speaking, she noticed Harry and Ron looking at her with peculiar expressions.
Those looks contained some amusement and some helplessness, as if looking at someone familiar.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Hermione touched her face in confusion, then looked down at her clothes. "Is there something on my face? Or are my clothes inappropriate?"
Harry and Ron exchanged glances, then shook their heads in unison, saying together: "No, nothing at all."
Even so, both were thinking the same thing: Hermione's tone just now, and that table-slapping gesture, were becoming more and more like Sherlock. Especially that last line about "if we still can't solve it, that would be strange"—wasn't that one of Sherlock's catchphrases!
Just like with the first task, Harry told Cedric about this according to Sherlock's wishes.
When Cedric learned that Sherlock had solved the golden egg's secret in such a short time, he was both shocked and delighted.
"Worthy of the great detective Sherlock Holmes!" he said excitedly. "I'll bet you anything the people from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons still don't have a clue! Sherlock's a genius—we have plenty of time to prepare!"
"You can't tell Delacour about this," Harry suddenly remembered that Cedric had danced with Fleur Delacour at the Christmas Ball and couldn't help but add an extra warning.
He worried that Cedric might not be able to resist and accidentally leak the secret.
After all, she was a woman with Veela blood.
"Harry, what are you saying?" Cedric immediately complained. "I'm not like that friend of yours—do I look like that kind of person?"
Hearing this, Harry instantly understood that Cedric was referring to Ron.
Back when Ron had tried to invite Fleur as his dance partner, making a scene in the Great Hall, almost everyone at Hogwarts now knew about it.
"Ahem..." Harry felt somewhat embarrassed, but he couldn't really refute it.
First, because Ron had indeed done that, and second, because he had spoken about Cedric first.
"Alright, just joking, don't take it to heart," Cedric said, seeing Harry's embarrassment and quickly laughing to smooth things over.
He patted Harry's arm, his tone becoming serious.
"Don't worry, Sherlock bought us so much time, we definitely can't let down his efforts. I won't tell anyone about this, including my friends. Leave the subsequent preparation work to me. I need to do something too—I can't always rely on Sherlock."
Seeing Cedric's confident appearance, the embarrassment in Harry's heart dissipated, and he smiled along: "Good! We'll definitely be able to..."
Click!
Just then, a shutter sound rang out.
Harry and Cedric turned their heads simultaneously to see Colin Creevey holding up his old camera.
His brother Dennis Creevey stood beside him, both having appeared from some corner.
Colin had just lowered his camera, his face still wearing an excited smile.
Cedric looked surprised.
Harry remained expressionless.
As for Colin being able to find him and take photos, he was completely unsurprised by now.
No other reason—he was used to it.
"Harry, Diggory, from the looks of you two, you're clearly confident about the second task! This photo will definitely look great. Once it's developed, I'll send it to you!"
Watching Colin and Dennis waving their fists excitedly, Cedric looked at Harry with some surprise.
His eyes held some confusion.
Who were these two little boys?
Why were they so enthusiastic toward Harry?
Harry felt somewhat embarrassed under Cedric's gaze and could only explain reluctantly, "They're our Gryffindor housemates, Colin Creevey and his brother Dennis Creevey. They've always been very... supportive of me."
He really couldn't bring himself to say "they're my fans," so he found a euphemistic way to put it.
But Cedric understood immediately.
So these two were Harry's devoted fans.
"Harry, can we take another photo with you?" Colin, oblivious to their eye contact, still looked at Harry expectantly, then turned to Cedric. "Diggory, could you take a photo for us? It's very simple, you just press this spot!"
As he spoke, he held the camera up to Cedric, pointing at the shutter button.
Harry: "..."
Cedric: "..."
The two Hogwarts champions found themselves surrounded by two enthusiastic young fans, momentarily at a loss for what to do.
While Harry and Cedric were being pestered by Colin, Sherlock had already arrived alone at the door to the headmaster's office on the top floor of Hogwarts Castle.
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