As Ludo Bagman's voice echoed throughout the stadium announcing "HARRY POTTER," a hush fell over the crowd. Harry stepped out from the champions' tent, his legs surprisingly steady despite the terror coursing through his veins. The November sun momentarily blinded him, and as his eyes adjusted, he saw it. the Hungarian Horntail. The beast was more terrifying in the daylight than it had been by torchlight, its black scales absorbing the sun's rays rather than reflecting them, giving it the appearance of a living shadow. Yellow eyes fixed on Harry with prehistoric malice, and the bronze spikes along its tail gleamed with deadly promise as it curled protectively around its clutch of eggs.
In the stands, Chris leaned forward, his eyes intent on Harry's small figure at the arena entrance. Beside him, Susan clutched the edge of her seat, her knuckles white.
"Here we go," Chris murmured, his voice steady despite the tension radiating from the group. "Let's see if he remembers what we taught him."
Harry stood frozen for a moment, absorbing the reality of what faced him. The dragon's neck arched like a serpent preparing to strike, smoke curling from its nostrils in thin, gray tendrils. Its tail, tipped with bronze spikes that could impale a man with casual ease, swept across the rocky ground, leaving gouges in the earth. Among the granite-colored eggs nestled between its massive forelegs, the golden egg gleamed tantalizingly, impossibly out of reach.
The Horntail's jaws opened, revealing teeth like daggers, and it released a roar that shook the very air, a primal challenge that made Harry's bones vibrate. Several students in the front rows flinched back, though they sat well beyond the protective barriers.
"He's just standing there," Hannah whispered, her voice tight with anxiety. "Why isn't he moving?"
"He's assessing," Daphne replied, her eyes never leaving the arena. "Smart, actually."
Harry's hand tightened around his wand, Chris's words from their training sessions echoing in his mind. His strength was flying. On a broom, he could outmaneuver the dragon. He just needed his Firebolt.
Taking a deep breath, Harry raised his wand. "ACCIO FIREBOLT!" he shouted, his voice carrying across the suddenly silent arena.
Nothing happened.
The dragon shifted, its yellow eyes narrowing as it assessed the small human that threatened its nest. A collective breath was held throughout the stadium, the silence almost oppressive.
"Come on," Hermione whispered, her hands clasped so tightly her nails dug into her skin. "Come on."
Seconds stretched like hours. Harry stood his ground, his wand still raised, every muscle tense with anticipation and fear. The Horntail growled, a deep, resonant sound that promised imminent violence.
And then, a distant whistling sound, growing louder by the second. From somewhere over the Forbidden Forest, a dark speck appeared, growing larger as it shot toward the stadium.
"There!" Astoria cried, twisting on Chris's lap and pointing excitedly. "His broom! It worked!"
The Firebolt streaked into the arena, a blur of polished wood and perfectly aligned twigs, arrowing straight for Harry's outstretched hand. His fingers closed around the handle with practiced familiarity, and in one fluid motion, he swung his leg over and kicked off from the ground.
The effect was instantaneous. As Harry soared upward, his entire demeanor changed. The fear that had tightened his features melted away, replaced by a calm determination that was visible even from the stands. He was in his element now, the wind rushing through his hair, the broom responding to his slightest touch as though it were an extension of his body.
"Beautiful," Susan breathed, a smile breaking through her tension. "Look at him fly."
The crowd erupted in cheers, the sudden ascent catching everyone by surprise. The Horntail's head swiveled upward, tracking this new aerial threat, its tail lashing with increased agitation.
Harry circled high above the dragon, his mind racing through possible approaches. The Horntail remained firmly positioned over its nest, its neck craned to keep Harry in sight. He needed to draw it away, just enough to create an opening.
Pulling his broom into a steep dive, Harry plummeted toward the dragon's head before veering sharply away at the last second. The Horntail snapped at the empty air where he'd been a moment before, then let loose a torrent of flame that Harry barely managed to avoid, the heat searing his back even from several feet away.
"PROTEGO!" Harry shouted as a second blast of fire came too close to dodge. The shield shimmered into existence just in time, deflecting the worst of the flames, though the heat that penetrated was still intense enough to make him gasp.
In the stands, Hermione clutched Hannah's arm. "He remembered," she said, relief evident in her voice. "The Shield Charm held!"
Harry continued his aerial dance, diving and weaving, each maneuver bringing him tantalizingly close to the nest before the dragon's protective instincts forced him away. The Horntail, growing increasingly frustrated, began to rise on its hind legs, stretching its neck to full extension as it tried to reach the irritating human that threatened its eggs.
"It's working," Chris said quietly, his eyes following Harry's every move. "He's drawing it away from the nest."
Indeed, as the dragon stretched higher, the front of its body lifted slightly, creating a small gap between its forelegs and the clutch of eggs. Harry, circling overhead, spotted the opening immediately. This was his chance, but he needed to time it perfectly.
The golden egg lay partially visible now, its metallic surface catching the sunlight. Harry's gaze darted around the arena, landing on a fist-sized rock near the edge of the arena. Perfect.
Drawing his wand as he flew, Harry concentrated on the rock, picturing it clearly in his mind, feeling the connection between his magic and the stone. "Lapifors," he muttered, and the rock shimmered briefly, retaining its shape but becoming easier to magically manipulate.
The Horntail roared again, flames erupting from its mouth in a column of blistering heat that Harry barely avoided. As he swerved, he saw his opening, the dragon's attention momentarily fixed on his previous position, the nest briefly exposed.
"Permutatio!" Harry shouted, executing the Switching Spell with every ounce of concentration he possessed. For a heart-stopping moment, nothing happened. Then the golden egg vanished from the nest, replaced by the rock, while the egg materialized in the rocks place. In the moment of confusion, Harry swept down and collected the egg in his outstretched hand.
The weight of it nearly pulled him from his broom, but he clutched it to his chest, already shooting toward the exit. Behind him, the dragon released a bellow of fury as it realized its nest had been violated, but Harry was already beyond its reach, streaking toward safety with the prize clutched tightly against him.
As his feet touched the ground outside the arena's bounds, the crowd exploded into thunderous applause. Harry stood swaying slightly, the adrenaline that had carried him through the task beginning to ebb, leaving him light-headed with relief and triumph.
In the stands, Chris and his friends were on their feet, cheering wildly alongside the rest of the crowd. Even Daphne's usual composure had cracked, a genuine smile lighting her face as she clapped.
"He did it!" Susan exclaimed, turning to Chris with shining eyes. "All that training paid off!"
"The Switching Spell," Hannah marveled, high-fiving an equally excited Hermione. "He actually managed it under pressure!"
"Potter surprised me," Daphne admitted, her smile small but sincere. "Good work, everyone."
Astoria threw her arms around Chris's neck, planting a quick, impulsive kiss on his cheek before burying her face against his chest, suddenly shy at her own boldness.
Ludo Bagman's amplified voice boomed across the stadium once more, announcing the judges' scores. Madame Maxime raised her wand, shooting a silver ribbon into the air that formed the number nine. Dumbledore followed with another nine, Crouch with an eight. Bagman himself gave a ten, while Karkaroff, after a moment's hesitation, reluctantly produced a four.
"Forty points!" Hermione calculated quickly. "He's tied with Krum for first place!"
As the crowd began to disperse, Chris led the group down from the stands to meet Harry. They found him near the medical tent, looking dazed but elated, the golden egg still clutched in his arms as though he feared it might disappear.
"Harry!" Hermione called, rushing forward. "That was amazing!"
Harry's tired face broke into a genuine smile as he saw them approach. "It worked," he said simply. "Everything you taught me, it actually worked."
"Of course it did," Chris replied with a casual confidence that belied the relief he felt. "You executed it perfectly."
Harry's gaze moved from face to face, taking in their proud expressions. "Thank you," he said, his voice quiet but intense. "All of you. I couldn't have done this without your help."
He turned to Chris, lowering his voice slightly. "And thank you, Chris. This is... the third time you've helped me. First with my inheritance, then with Sirius, and now this."
Chris offered a small, casual smile, though his eyes held understanding of the debt Harry felt. "Don't mention it, Harry. That's what friends are for." He nodded toward the golden egg. "Just let us know when you figure out what that thing means. If you need help with the second task, we're here."
Harry nodded, a newfound respect and trust evident in his eyes. The terror of facing the dragon had been replaced by something stronger, the knowledge that he wasn't alone, that with the right preparation and the right allies, even the most intimidating challenges could be overcome.
...
The portrait of the Fat Lady swung open to a burst of noise so unexpected that Harry nearly dropped the golden egg. The Gryffindor common room had transformed into an impromptu celebration, red and gold streamers hanging from the ceiling, tables laden with snacks and bottles of butterbeer that someone had smuggled up from Hogsmeade. A cheer went up as Harry stepped through the portrait hole, though he noticed that not every face showed the same enthusiasm, some still wore the skeptical expressions that had followed him since Halloween night.
"There he is!" Dean Thomas shouted, thrusting a butterbeer into Harry's free hand. "The dragon-slayer himself!"
"I didn't slay it," Harry corrected, but his words were lost as Fred and George Weasley hoisted him onto their shoulders, parading him around the common room to raucous applause and a hastily composed victory song that seemed to consist primarily of the words "Harry" and "dragon" repeated with varying levels of enthusiasm.
The golden egg was passed around reverently, students running their fingers over its metallic surface with expressions of awe. Harry accepted congratulations with awkward nods, the adrenaline that had carried him through the task now completely drained, leaving him hollow and desperately tired.
Hermione pushed through the crowd, her face a mixture of exasperation and relief. "Give him some space," she insisted, pulling Harry from the twins' grasp. "He's just faced a dragon, for goodness' sake. He needs rest, not... whatever this is." She gestured vaguely at the chaos around them.
Harry shot her a grateful look as she created a small pocket of calm in the storm of celebration. His eyes scanned the room, automatically seeking Ron's lanky form among the crowd. He found him standing near the fireplace, slightly apart from the main group. Their eyes met briefly, and Harry thought he saw something shift in Ron's expression, the hard line of his mouth softening slightly, the coldness in his eyes warming by a fraction. But neither boy moved toward the other, the weeks of silence between them creating a barrier neither yet knew how to cross.
"You were brilliant, Harry," Hermione said, reclaiming his attention. "That Switching Spell was perfect, I could hardly believe it when I saw the egg appear in place of the rock!"
"Chris's idea," Harry replied, his voice low enough that only she could hear. "The whole strategy, really. I'd never have thought of using my broom."
Hermione opened her mouth as if to reply, then closed it, her eyes flickering briefly toward Ron. The subtle movement wasn't lost on Harry, who felt a sudden weariness that had nothing to do with physical exhaustion.
"I need some quiet," he said abruptly. "Going to head up for a bit."
Before she could protest, Harry reclaimed the golden egg from Neville and made his way toward the spiral staircase leading to the boys' dormitories. The celebration continued behind him, but as he climbed the stone steps, the noise faded to a dull roar, then to blessed quiet as he entered the empty dormitory.
The room was dim and peaceful, afternoon sunlight filtering through the windows in dusty golden beams. Harry placed the egg on his bedside table and sank onto his four-poster bed, releasing a long breath that seemed to deflate his entire body. He stared at the egg, its golden surface reflecting the light, mysterious and inscrutable.
Bagman had said it contained a clue for the second task. Harry picked it up, turning it over in his hands. It was heavier than it looked, with a hinged top that suggested it could be opened. There were no visible clasps or buttons, no obvious mechanism for unlocking its secret.
After examining it for several minutes, Harry tried tapping it with his wand. Nothing happened. He shook it gently, hearing something shift inside, but the egg remained stubbornly sealed. Growing frustrated, he tried several basic opening charms Hermione had taught him, to no effect.
"Alohomora," he muttered, the most basic unlocking spell. The egg sat immobile and unchanged.
Finally, after exhausting his limited repertoire of spells, Harry spotted what appeared to be a small indent near the top. He pressed it with his thumb, and with a soft click, the egg split open along its golden seam.
Immediately, the most horrible noise filled the dormitory, a loud, screeching wail that sounded like a chorus of banshees being tortured. Harry slammed the egg shut, his ears ringing painfully, heart pounding from the sudden assault of sound.
"What the bloody hell was that?" Ron's voice came from the doorway, making Harry start. He hadn't heard him come up the stairs over the egg's wailing.
Harry looked up, unsure how to respond after weeks of silence between them. "The egg," he said finally. "It's supposed to be a clue, but all it does is... that."
Ron hovered awkwardly in the doorway, his tall frame silhouetted against the light from the stairwell. He took a tentative step into the room, then another, as though approaching a wild animal that might bolt.
"Sounded awful," he offered, his voice strained with the effort of casual conversation.
Harry nodded, watching Ron's face carefully. Something had changed. The cold anger that had radiated from him since Halloween night had diminished, replaced by uncertainty and what might have been the beginnings of remorse.
"I reckon," Ron continued, the words seeming to cost him considerable effort, "that maybe... you didn't put your name in after all."
It wasn't quite an apology, but Harry recognized it for the olive branch it was. Still, weeks of hurt didn't vanish in an instant, and he found himself thinking of Chris and the others, who had believed him without question and offered help when he needed it most.
"I told you I didn't," Harry said simply.
"I need to figure out what this means," he said. "I'll ask Chris and the others tomorrow. They helped me prepare for the dragon; maybe they'll have ideas about this too."
Ron's expression flickered at the mention of Chris, surprise, a touch of jealousy, but he nodded. "Good idea," he said, and if the words were a bit stiff, at least they weren't hostile.
Harry placed the egg back on his bedside table, making a mental note to bring it to the study group's classroom the next day. Whatever secret the egg contained, he felt certain that between Chris's strange knowledge, Hermione's research skills, and the combined talents of the others, they would uncover it. The thought brought a measure of comfort, even as he recognized how much his world had shifted in the weeks since his name had emerged from the Goblet of Fire.
...
The study group's classroom was bathed in afternoon light when Harry arrived, the golden egg tucked under his arm. They were already assembled, Hermione bent over a thick tome on advanced charms, Susan and Hannah practicing wandwork in the corner, Daphne organizing a stack of notes with meticulous care, and Astoria perched on a desk near Chris, chattering animatedly about something that made him smile. All activity ceased when Harry entered, six pairs of eyes immediately fixing on the gleaming object he carried.
"You brought it," Hermione said, closing her book with a soft thump. "Good. We were just discussing potential magical puzzles it might contain."
Harry placed the egg on the central table with a weighty clunk. "I've tried everything I could think of," he admitted, running a hand through his perpetually messy hair. "It opens, but all it does is screech."
"Screech?" Susan asked, moving closer to examine the egg. Her curious fingers traced the golden surface, searching for hidden mechanisms.
"Like someone being tortured," Harry confirmed grimly. "Nearly blew my eardrums out when I opened it in the dormitory."
Chris approached the table, his eyes studying the egg with focused interest. "May I?" he asked, extending a hand. Harry nodded, and Chris lifted the egg, turning it slowly in his hands, examining it from every angle.
"There must be a specific way to interpret the sound," Daphne suggested, her analytical mind already working through possibilities. "Magical puzzles rarely rely on straightforward solutions."
Astoria bounced over, eyes wide with excitement. "Maybe it's a code! Or a language that only sounds like screeching to us. Like how grown-ups can't hear those high-pitched sounds that kids and dogs can!"
The others exchanged glances, considering this unexpectedly insightful suggestion from the youngest member of their group.
"Let's hear it first," Chris decided, placing the egg back on the table. "Everyone, cover your ears."
They complied, hands pressed tightly against their ears as Chris located the small indent Harry had discovered and pressed it firmly. The egg split open along its golden seam, and even through their covered ears, the horrible wailing penetrated, making them wince collectively. Astoria actually squealed, burying her face against Chris's side as he quickly closed the egg again, silencing the awful noise.
"Well, that was pleasant," Daphne remarked dryly, lowering her hands. "Astoria might be onto something, though. It could be a language that's unintelligible to human ears in its natural state."
Hermione's eyes lit up with sudden inspiration. "Of course! Magical languages that sound discordant in one environment might be perfectly comprehensible in another." She began rifling through her stack of books, searching for relevant information.
Meanwhile, Chris had reopened the egg, but this time didn't activate whatever triggered the screeching. Instead, he was examining the interior surface with intense concentration.
"There's something here," he murmured, tilting the egg toward the light streaming through the classroom windows. "Engravings, very faint."
Hermione abandoned her books and leaned in, squinting at where Chris was pointing. "You're right," she breathed. "There are markings, some kind of script. But..." her excitement faltered, "I don't recognize these characters at all. They're not runes or any magical language I've studied."
"They're Mermish," Chris stated simply, his finger tracing the flowing, unfamiliar script etched into the egg's inner surface.
A stunned silence fell over the group. Harry stared at Chris, bewildered. "How could you possibly know that?"
Chris looked up, meeting the confused gazes fixed on him. "It's a family thing," he said, his tone deliberately light. "The Emrys line has some... unusual magical inheritances. Linguistic aptitude is one of them."
Before anyone could press further, he continued, "It says the egg needs to be submerged in water to be understood. Mermish is comprehensible underwater but sounds like screeching in the air."
Susan and Hannah exchanged astonished glances, while Hermione looked torn between academic fascination and suspicion. Daphne's eyes narrowed slightly, filing away this new information about Chris for future consideration.
"Well then," Susan said briskly, breaking the awkward moment, "let's get some water." With a confident flick of her wand and a muttered incantation, she conjured a large wooden barrel that materialized with a solid thunk on the stone floor. Another spell filled it to the brim with clear water.
Harry's eyes widened at the casual display of magic well beyond their year level. "That was incredible," he said, genuinely impressed. "Conjuring isn't taught until sixth year."
Susan blushed slightly, but Daphne interjected smoothly, "We've been studying ahead. Now, shall we test the egg?"
Harry nodded, stepping forward and carefully lowering the golden egg into the barrel. The moment it was fully submerged, he pressed the indentation, and the egg opened underwater. Instead of the horrible screeching, bubbles rose to the surface, carrying with them the faint sound of haunting, ethereal music.
"I can't make out the words," Hermione said, frustrated, leaning so close to the water's surface that her bushy hair nearly dipped into it.
"We need to hear it properly," Chris mused, then turned to Hermione. "Can you cast a Sonorus charm on the egg itself? That might amplify the song enough for us to hear clearly without putting our heads underwater."
Hermione looked momentarily surprised that she hadn't thought of it herself, then nodded. Pointing her wand at the submerged egg, she cast, "Sonorus!"
Immediately, the music grew louder, the watery melody filling the classroom with eerie beauty. A chorus of voices sang in perfect harmony:
"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 bleak,
Too late, it's gone, so save what you seek."
The song repeated once more before fading into silence. For a moment, no one spoke, each processing the clue in their own way.
"The Black Lake," Hermione whispered, breaking the silence. "It has to be. 'Come seek us where our voices sound, we cannot sing above the ground.' The merpeople in the Black Lake!"
"They'll take something from you," Hannah added, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Something you'll 'sorely miss.' And you'll have an hour to find it underwater."
Harry's face paled slightly as the implications sank in. "An hour underwater? How am I supposed to breathe for that long?"
"There are several possibilities," Hermione began, already mentally cataloging potential solutions. "The Bubble-Head Charm creates a pocket of air around your head, but it's complex magic, usually not taught until sixth year. Or there's human transfiguration, giving yourself gills temporarily, but that's incredibly advanced and dangerous if done incorrectly."
As Hermione continued listing increasingly complex magical solutions, Chris watched Harry's growing anxiety with calm understanding. He waited until she paused for breath before speaking.
"Gillyweed," he said simply, the single word cutting through Hermione's academic discourse. "This task will be simple, Harry."
The others turned to him, some with understanding, others with curiosity.
"What's gillyweed?" Harry asked, hope cautiously entering his voice.
"A magical plant that allows you to breathe underwater," Chris explained. "When eaten, it gives you gills and webbed hands and feet for about an hour, perfect for the time constraint mentioned in the clue. No complex spellwork required, just swallow it before you enter the lake."
Hermione looked both impressed and slightly chagrined that she hadn't thought of it. "Of course! I've read about it in 'Magical Mediterranean Water-Plants and Their Properties.' It's brilliant, actually, simple but effective."
"Where would I get some?" Harry asked, already looking more optimistic than he had when he'd entered the room.
"Leave that to me," Chris replied with quiet confidence. "I can have it for you well before the second task."
Astoria, who had been unusually quiet during the problem-solving process, suddenly darted forward and wrapped her arms around Chris's waist. "See? I told you all big brother is the smartest! He's so much better than Cedric or any of the champions." She looked up at Chris with undisguised adoration. "You should've been Hogwarts champion instead."
Daphne rolled her eyes at her sister's enthusiasm but didn't contradict her. "The solution is elegant in its simplicity," she acknowledged. "Potter will be at a distinct advantage having this information so far in advance."
Harry looked around at the group, genuine gratitude written across his features. In the span of an afternoon, they had solved a puzzle that might have taken him weeks to decipher alone, and provided a straightforward solution to what had seemed an insurmountable challenge.
"Thank you," he said simply. "All of you."
Susan smiled warmly. "That's what friends are for, Harry."
As they began discussing the practical aspects of the underwater task, the frigid February temperature of the lake, potential waterproofing charms for Harry's glasses, the most efficient swimming techniques, Harry felt a surge of confidence that had nothing to do with the gillyweed solution. With this group supporting him, the Triwizard Tournament suddenly seemed far less daunting than it had on Halloween night when his name had emerged from the Goblet of Fire.