Come Monday morning, Sherlock felt as good as new-with the exception of an ache over the majority of his body, and an impending sense of doom. Anyhow, things could have been a lot worse. He and Collins were tied for first, after all, and they had decimated Moriarty, which was a thought that seemed to never fail in lifting the boy's spirits.

The entire morning was pretty much wonderful; Slughorn was more adoring than ever, Flitwick was enthralled that Sherlock had brought such glory to the Ravenclaw name, and even Professor McGonagall seemed a bit less stern. After a delicious lunch, even Nevamann's unnerving stares and glances couldn't bring him down.

Sherlock had the rest of the evening free, so in the hours before dinner, he sat in the library perfecting the coins for himself and Jack while John completed some overdue Charms homework.

"Are they giving you any clues about the second task?" the Gryffindor inquired of him. "I thought it might be in the egg…"

"No, they told us it wasn't. We do get to keep them, though. We should be informed sometime this week. They said they'd give us ample time to figure out the clue and prepare."

"Any ideas?"

"Not really," Sherlock admitted, throwing down his wand with a sigh. "I mean, there will be some kind of magical creature involved, that's for sure. But it might just be as an obstacle rather than the main challenge."

"Well what did they do in the past? Did you find any patterns?"

Sherlock shook his head, causing his dark curls to bounce around. "It seemed like the only task without a pattern. The only thing I found is that it usually involves finding something, which isn't very helpful. I mean, we had to find the Griffin last time."

"Heads up," John muttered, jerking his chin to the library doors.

Casting a quick glance over his shoulder, Sherlock saw Moriarty and Adler stepping into the library; the dark-haired boy's magnetic eyes seemed to latch on to Sherlock.

"Wonder what they're here for." John ran a hand through his blonde hair anxiously.

Noticing the action, Sherlock rose to his feet. "Don't worry, even they won't start anything here. They're too good for that."

He approached the pair cautiously, ignoring the sly smile that Adler gave him. "If you're looking for books on the tournament, they're against the far left wall, in the corner."

Moriarty raised his eyebrows. "Thanks, but no. That doesn't interest us." With an annoyingly amused look, the dark-haired boy turned his back on Sherlock haughtily and disappeared with Irene among the shelves.

"That's over near the restricted section, isn't it?" John whispered when Sherlock sat back down, his blonde eyebrows furrowed.

"John, please don't think, just watching the process is painful to me."

"Oh, shut up. Still, though. Wha'd'ya think they're looking for?"

"Probably books on dark magic. Or regular magic, for them. Durmstrang doesn't have the cleanest reputation."

"I wouldn't think so. Anyway, I have to get going-Quidditch practice. There's a game Saturday. You'll be there, right?"

"Have I missed one yet this year?"

"Well there's only been one."

"Feels like a hundred," Sherlock observed, grinning nonetheless. "Yeah, yeah, I'll be there unless something important comes up."

"More important than Quidditch? Impossible."

It was on Wednesday morning that the Gryffindors saw the notice posted on the bulletin board, and immediately excited chattering broke out.

ATTENTION ALL STUDENTS

It is a custom of the tournament to hold a Yule ball on Christmas Eve. However, due to the lateness of planning the tournament, it is to take place on the first Saturday of February instead.

Only students third year and above may attend the dance, but a younger student may attend if accompanied by an older student.
The ball will take place in the Great Hall, from seven until midnight.

John had simply stared at the paper for a moment. He had never known that wizards had dances like muggle schools did. He figured it couldn't be vastly different, but he certainly had his doubts. He considered asking Sherlock, before realizing that a boy who had never gone to a game of Quidditch or Hogsmeade would not likely have ever gone to something as social as a ball.

As January ended in two weeks, this was rather late notice-and John new that if he wanted to find a date, he had better ask someone soon. In the meantime, however, he had a Quidditch match to practice for.

At breakfast on Saturday morning, John was shoveling eggs into his mouth at quite an impressive rate when Sherlock sat down beside him. "Something the matter?" He asked, flipping his curls out of his eyes. "People will think you haven't eaten in weeks."

"Gothavengy," the boy said around a mouth full of toast.

Sherlock raised his eyebrows, looking mildly disgusted. "Pardon?"

"I gotta have energy. Big match against Slytherin today," John said, finally finished his food.

"Be careful not to bite off more than you can chew."

"With the match, or the food?"

"Both."

"Ha, ha," said John, not sounding amused in the slightest. "Did you see the notice about the ball?"

"Mhmmm."

"Who are you going to ask?"

"Pfft! I'm not going."

"Yes, you are," said Collins from behind the boys, unexpectedly sitting down next to Sherlock. The dark-haired boy discreetly moved a bit closer to John. "Champions have to go, it's a part of the tradition. And we also have to open the dancing, so you need a date."

"You've got to be kidding," Sherlock groaned.

Then, as if something clicked in his head, Sherlock's head snapped up. "John. Go with me to the ball."

"What?!" John was looking at him as though he had lost his mind. "Absolutely not!"

"Come on, the only reason I entered this tournament is because of you. This is all your fault."

"Sherlock! I am not going to the ball with you!"

A few passing first years glanced at the two of them and started giggling, as well as a few other students at the Gryffindor table.

"You see?" John exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sherlock. "This is how rumors get started."

"You're the one shouting," Sherlock observed calmly. "At least find me a date. You know I won't ask anyone."

"What about Molly Hooper?" suggested John innocently. "She'd be thrilled to go with you."

"I am not going with Molly."

"Suit yourself."

Half an hour later, Sherlock and Collins joined the crowd of students swarming out onto the grounds towards the Quidditch pitch. However, before they were out the doors, a shrill voice stopped them in their tracks.

"Boys, boys!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, waving them over. "Come, come!"

Jack gave Sherlock a confused look, which he did not return. There was really only one thing this could be about.

Once the hall had emptied, Professor Flitwick cleared his throat and began speaking again. "I was instructed to give you your clue for the Second Task of the Tournament, which will take place in March. It was decided that now would be the best time to do it, while everyone was away-we didn't want to cause too much of a hubbub.

Now-these," plunging his hands into the pockets of his cloak, the short little wizard pulled out what appeared to be two ordinary muggle rubix cubes. He handed one to each of the two boys. "Inside is the clue. You need to solve the puzzle to unlock it and receive the clue. You have plenty of time to prepare. Good luck!"

He reached up to shake each of their hands, and bustled away. "Well," said Collins. "That was…interesting."

"Hmm."

John didn't see Sherlock anywhere after the match, and wasn't particularly upset. The loss hadn't been terrible, but it was certainly disappointing. Right now, John wanted sympathy, which was something he wasn't about to get from the boy.

In the end, he didn't end up seeing Sherlock until later at dinner, where Sherlock had explained what happened.

"And you think it's really just a muggle rubix cube?" John discreetly examined it under the table, trying not to be amused.

"Seems like it. I mean, it makes sense. Most wizards wouldn't have seen something like this before, so it certainly would be a test of logic. Many would struggle immensely."

"Not you, I'm guessing?"

"Shouldn't take me too long," Sherlock noted, nodding his head. "Mycroft and I used to play with muggle puzzles all the time as kids. We liked to see who could solve them faster."

"'Course you did."

"It's the clue inside that'll be the most difficult," Sherlock observed thoughtfully, sticking the cube back in his back. "I'll want as much time as possible to riddle that one out."

"Was that a pun?"

"Huh?"

"Never mind. Just beat Moriarty again."

Sherlock looked over to where the black-haired boy was sitting, staring at the puzzle as though it were some undiscovered insect. He had probably never been in such close proximity to a muggle item before. Sherlock guessed he thought it was some type of new magic; the boy would most likely be disgusted if he knew what it really was.

"Shouldn't be too hard," Sherlock said, grinning slyly.