Harry Wayne and the Batman of Hogwarts
Chapter 33-Secrets That Lie Beneath
The champions sat at a long table in the Great Hall, their Acromantula eggs gleaming faintly under the enchanted ceiling, which mirrored the stormy sky outside. Viktor Zsasz, his sharp eyes scanning his egg with predatory focus, sat at one end. Beside him was Jervis Delacour, twirling his wand absentmindedly, his posture oddly relaxed for someone in the middle of a life-threatening tournament. Waylon Diggory, calm but purposeful, inspected his egg with the care of someone solving a puzzle. Harry Wayne sat at the opposite end, his dark cloak draped over his shoulders, his green eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight as he stared at the mysterious egg before him.
Dumbledore stepped forward, his presence commanding immediate attention. "Champions," he began, his voice echoing softly, "before you, lies the key to the next round of the Triwizard Tournament. Each of these Acromantula eggs contains a message, but retrieving it will not be straightforward. You must figure out how to unlock its secrets."
The boys exchanged uncertain glances before nodding.
"Go ahead," Dumbledore said, stepping back with a wave of his hand. "Open your eggs."
Harry hesitated, but eventually twisted his egg's seam, breaking the magical seal. A high-pitched whining noise erupted from within, so sharp and piercing it felt like needles driving into his eardrums. He immediately clapped the egg shut, glancing around to see the other champions reacting similarly.
Waylon Diggory flinched, but seemed less perturbed. His lips pressed into a thin line as if the sound confirmed something he already suspected. Without a word, he stood, tucking the egg under his arm, and strode out of the Great Hall.
"Wait, you know what it means?" Harry called after him, but Waylon didn't turn back.
Viktor Zsasz growled in frustration, holding his egg up to the light as if examining it more closely would reveal its secrets. As he did, Harry's gaze was drawn to his forearm, where several faint scars crisscrossed the pale skin. Intrigued and concerned, Harry leaned in.
"Zsasz?" he asked, pointing to the marks. "Where'd you get those?"
Viktor's jaw tightened. "Mind your business, Wayne," he snapped, snapping his egg shut with unnecessary force. He stood abruptly and stalked out of the room, leaving Harry watching his retreating figure.
Turning to Jervis Delacour, Harry couldn't help but notice how out of place the Beauxbaton's champion seemed. Jervis had a wiry build and a mischievous air that made him look more suited to mischief-making than dueling dragons. His strange, eccentric attire seemed a direct contrast to the uniforms of the other champions. He wore a colorful bow tie and a top hat which looked like something a magician might pull a rabbit from.
"How did you even become champion?" Harry asked, curiosity getting the better of him. "You don't exactly seem…traditional."
Jervis smirked, his fingers drumming on the surface of his closed egg. "It's easy to get what you want, Harry. You just have to control the narrative."
Harry frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Jervis's grin widened, but instead of answering, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of small earbuds, slipping them into his ears. The faint sound of an upbeat tune reached Harry's ears as Jervis leaned back, his attention drifting away entirely.
Realizing the conversation was over, Harry stood and picked up his own egg. The high-pitched sound it had emitted earlier echoed in his mind as he left the hall. He had no idea how to decode the egg's message, but one thing was clear—he was falling behind. And if he wanted to honor his promise to Neville and his father, failure wasn't an option.
As he walked, Harry replayed the interactions in his head. Viktor's scars, Jervis's cryptic comment, and Waylon's confident exit—it all felt connected somehow. But for now, the egg was his priority. He needed to crack its mystery, and he needed to do it fast.
Harry sat in his room for hours, turning the egg over and over in his hands. The high-pitched whining sound echoed in his mind each time he tried to open it, driving him to frustration. He felt like he was missing something obvious, but couldn't figure out what. Finally, he decided it was time to take a more unorthodox approach. Throwing on his Cloak of Shadows, he crept out of his dorm, determined to see if the other champions had found any clues.
His first stop was Jervis Delacour's quarters. Harry slipped into the room, his footsteps silent as a shadow. Jervis sat at a desk, his Acromantula egg resting near him. Harry's eyes widened as he watched Jervis pull out a strange device that emitted a faint hum. The gadget looked like an ultrasound machine, its small screen flickering as Jervis turned a dial, adjusting the frequency.
Harry leaned closer, curiosity mounting as Jervis's expression shifted. A sly smile crossed Jervis's face, his eyes lighting up as though he'd uncovered the egg's secret. Harry held his breath, hoping Jervis would say something revealing.
But as Harry shifted to get a better view, his elbow brushed against a shelf, sending a small decorative trinket clattering to the floor.
Jervis froze, his sharp eyes darting around the room. He stood, grabbing his egg, and began pacing the space, his gaze scanning the shadows. Harry's heart pounded as he pressed himself against the wall, willing the Cloak of Shadows to conceal him.
"Who's there?" Jervis muttered, his wand in one hand and the egg in the other. After a tense moment, he shook his head, muttering under his breath as he left the room, the egg tucked under his arm.
Harry exhaled slowly, relief washing over him. The close call left him rattled, and he decided against sneaking into Viktor's quarters for now. Instead, he made his way back to his own dormitory.
He removed the Cloak of Shadows, figuring it wasn't necessary anymore. As he walked down the corridor, he ran into Waylon Diggory, who was carrying his own egg under one arm.
"Still trying to crack the message?" Waylon asked, his tone casual.
Harry sighed. "Yeah, no luck so far. Have you figured it out?"
Waylon didn't answer directly. Instead, he smiled faintly and said, "You know, the sound the egg makes reminds me of the mermaids in the Black Lake. Above water, their songs sound just like that high-pitched noise. It's strange, really."
Harry frowned. "Mermaids? What are you getting at?"
Waylon's smile widened, but he said nothing more. He simply patted Harry on the shoulder and walked away, leaving Harry more confused than ever.
Determined to find answers, Harry decided to snoop in Waylon's room. Donning his Cloak of Shadows once more, he slipped inside and began looking around. The walls were decorated with photos of Waylon alongside various marine creatures—posing with dolphins, feeding seals, even sitting beside a massive crocodile.
The room gave off an aquatic vibe, but it was the bathroom that caught Harry's attention. The bathtub was full of water, glistening faintly in the dim light. As Harry stared at it, Waylon's words replayed in his mind: the mermaids' songs above water.
A realization hit him like a thunderbolt. Of course! The sound of the egg—it wasn't meant to be heard in the air. It needed water.
Excitement surged through him as he rushed back to his own dormitory, barely acknowledging Harvey as he passed him.
"Hey, what's the big hurry?" Harvey called out.
"I need to take a bath!" Harry replied, clutching his egg.
Harvey raised an eyebrow but didn't press further as Harry dashed into the bathroom. Filling the tub with water, Harry submerged the egg and cautiously opened it.
The piercing noise faded instantly, replaced by a melodic, haunting song. The voices were otherworldly, like a choir of mermaids singing in unison. The message was clear:
"Come seek us where our voices sound,
We cannot sing above the ground.
And while you're searching, ponder this:
We've taken something you'll dearly miss.
But beware, young champion, your task's not complete;
Beneath the surface, you'll face the deep.
To retrieve what's yours, at the Black Lake's floor,
You must stay submerged for an hour or more."
Harry's breath caught as the song repeated, the meaning sinking in. The next task would take place in the Black Lake, and he would have to rescue something precious to him. But now an additional challenge loomed: he would have to figure out a way to breathe underwater for at least an hour.
A mixture of relief and dread filled him. He had uncovered the egg's secret, but the enormity of the task ahead left his mind racing. How was he supposed to pull this off? One thing was certain—he didn't have much time to figure it out.
Harry sat at his desk, his brows furrowed in thought as he flipped through his magician's handbook. The task of breathing underwater for an hour weighed heavily on his mind, and despite his efforts, he couldn't find any spell to solve the problem. Each page turned with increasing frustration, the clock ticking louder in his head.
Harvey entered the room and watched Harry for a moment, noting his intense focus. Finally, he interrupted, clearing his throat.
"Hey, Harry," Harvey began awkwardly. "Can we talk?"
Harry looked up, his brow relaxing slightly. "What's up?"
Harvey hesitated before continuing. "I just... I wanted to apologize. For how I reacted during the ceremony. I was out of line."
Harry's lips twitched into a faint smile. "Thanks, Harvey. It's all right. I get it—it was a shock to everyone. Honestly, I wasn't expecting to be chosen either." He paused, his expression darkening. "Especially since I didn't enter my name. Something doesn't feel right about all this."
Harvey nodded thoughtfully. "You think someone else entered your name?"
Harry shrugged. "I don't know. But whoever did, it's like they wanted me to compete. This whole thing feels like a setup."
There was a moment of silence before Harvey gestured to the handbook. "What are you looking for in there, anyway?"
"A spell to help me breathe underwater," Harry admitted, leaning back in his chair.
Harvey's face lit up as he recalled something. "Wait a second! I remember a class Professor Crane taught—he mentioned something about Gillyweed. It's a plant that lets you breathe underwater."
"Really?" Harry asked, intrigued. "How does it work?"
"Well, if I remember right, eating it makes you grow gills. Like a fish." Harvey chuckled, and Harry couldn't help but laugh too.
"That sounds ridiculous," Harry said, still grinning. "But honestly, it might be my only hope. Do you know where I can get some?"
Harvey thought for a moment. "Crane keeps some in a jar in his office. But it's locked in his cabinet."
Harry leaned forward, a glint of determination in his eyes. "Then it's time to put the Cloak of Shadows to use."
Later that night, Harry crept through the dimly lit corridors of the castle, the Cloak of Shadows wrapped tightly around him. When he reached Professor Crane's office, he ensured the coast was clear before slipping inside.
The office was eerily quiet; the air tinged with a faint smell of herbs and potions. Harry quickly spotted the locked cabinet and muttered an unlocking spell. The lock clicked, and he opened the cabinet door.
Suddenly, a strange mist sprayed out, enveloping him in a cold, smoky cloud. Harry coughed and stumbled back as the mist absorbed into his skin. For a moment, nothing seemed to happen, so he grabbed the jar of Gillyweed and bolted from the office, his heart pounding.
As Harry made his way back to his dorm, the effects of the mist began to take hold. His vision blurred, and the corridors seemed to stretch and twist. Shadows grew taller, their shapes warping into haunting forms.
Suddenly, he saw his parents—his mother's kind smile, his father's reassuring presence—but their faces quickly contorted into masks of pain and fear as they vanished. The image of a towering figure loomed next: the man who had tried to kill Neville, his laugh echoing menacingly.
Harry shook his head, trying to ward off the visions, but they wouldn't stop. Finally, Ra's al Ghul appeared before him, his piercing gaze freezing Harry in place. The sight of him was too much. Harry collapsed to the ground just outside his dorm, curling into a ball as fear gripped him.
Hermione happened to be on her way to visit Harvey when she spotted Harry. Her heart sank at the sight of him trembling and muttering incoherently.
"Harry!" she called, rushing to his side. She knelt beside him and gently shook his shoulder. When he didn't respond, she turned and shouted for Harvey.
Together, they helped Harry into his room and laid him on the bed. He continued to mutter, his face pale and drenched in sweat.
"What happened to him?" Harvey asked, panic in his voice.
Hermione examined Harry closely. "I think he's under some kind of spell—or maybe it's a potion effect. I'll make something to help."
She quickly mixed a small potion from her bag, carefully measuring each ingredient. When it was ready, she helped Harry sit up and coaxed him into drinking it.
"What is that?" Harvey asked.
"A potion I made for myself when I was younger," Hermione explained. "I used to have terrible nightmares, and this helped calm me down."
They sat by Harry's side for hours, waiting anxiously. Finally, his breathing steadied, and his color returned. Harry opened his eyes, blinking up at them.
"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, relief flooding her voice.
"Thanks," Harry said hoarsely. "Both of you."
"What happened?" Harvey asked.
Harry sat up slowly, his hands trembling as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the jar of Gillyweed. "I... I went to Crane's office to get this. But when I opened the cabinet, something sprayed out—a defense mechanism, I think. It made me see things... things I fear the most."
Hermione and Harvey exchanged worried looks.
"You'll have to be more careful, Harry," Hermione said gently. "This tournament is dangerous enough without extra risks."
Harry nodded. "I know. But at least now I have what I need for the task."
Hermione shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "And here I thought I was bad at sneaking around and stealing things. You managed to steal Gillyweed right out of Professor Crane's office and trigger his defense mechanisms in the process."
Harry let out a weak chuckle. "Yeah, I've got a knack for making things harder than they need to be."
Hermione stood up, smoothing her robes as she prepared to leave. "Well, you've got what you need now, so you better focus on getting a good night's rest." She gave Harry a pointed look. "The tournament starts early tomorrow morning, and you'll need every ounce of strength and wits you've got."
Harvey, still sitting nearby, added with a grin, "She's right. No point in being a hero if you're too tired to win."
Harry smiled at both of them, feeling a wave of gratitude. "Thanks, Hermione. Thanks, Harvey. For everything."
Hermione gave him a warm smile before turning to leave. "Good night, Harry. Try not to break into any more offices tonight, okay?"
As the door clicked shut behind her, Harry leaned back against the headboard, staring at the jar of Gillyweed in his hands. Tomorrow would be one of the toughest challenges he'd ever faced—but for now, he closed his eyes, letting the comfort of his friends' support carry him into sleep.
To be continued…