I almost slept through the entire competition process – that is, for an hour when the calm lake surface would occasionally bubble up, and the wind kept shattering the sunlight that was dancing merrily on the lake, making it seem as if hundreds of torches were lit on it. At first, everyone would get excited from time to time due to some movements, but after dozens of minutes passed, most of the audience felt bored, except for me who was sound asleep and a small number of students who brought wizard chess or Exploding Snap cards.
I was woken up by Miss Delacour's return. It's hard to imagine that the celebratory cheers from more than a dozen Beauxbatons students could be so piercing. Of course, as she emerged from the water, all the audience became restless. I groggily lifted the clothes covering my head and found that it was Draco's half - taken - off outer robe. I had just fallen asleep hugging his arm.
Suddenly seeing the sunlight, I reflexively raised my hand to block my vision. I felt a blur of blue - black in front of my eyes, and then I felt a sharp pain as my scalp was tugged. Looking down, sure enough, there were several strands of my hair wrapped around his fingers.
"When will you let go of my hair?" I mumbled, struggling out of his outer robe and trying to see what was happening on the opposite bank.
"She doesn't look very happy," Greengrass squinted and looked at the opposite side through a pocket telescope for a while. "She seems to want to go back into the water... Her headmistress stopped her."
The students from Beauxbatons seemed to have noticed this too. Although their champion was the first to return, she looked injured and empty - handed. Madam Pomfrey rushed over and wrapped a thick blanket around Miss Delacour. Then, Mr. Bagman's booming voice came from the opposite side, telling us that Miss Delacour had failed to complete the task due to an attack. The Beauxbatons students who had just jumped up to celebrate excitedly became instantly dejected.
"So how much longer do we have to stay here?" Draco grumbled as he put on his outer robe and adjusted himself.
"Someone else is coming up." Goyle, who was usually slow - witted, was actually the first to notice the movement on the water. But by the time he finished speaking, his voice was drowned out by the cheers of the Hufflepuffs. They recognized that the two heads belonged to Diggory and Cho Chang.
The following time wasn't as boring. Krum (when he jumped out of the water, his head was still in the shape of a shark's, and we didn't recognize him at first) also climbed ashore with a girl. When I confirmed through Greengrass's telescope that the girl who was coughing continuously and whose lips were blue - white from the cold was Hermione, I finally understood why Hermione and Taurus hadn't come back after being called away by Professor McGonagall last night. The champions' most beloved treasures were not objects, but the people who were most important to them.
I really wanted to go and check on Hermione's condition, but the moment I stood up excitedly, Draco pulled me back, and as if afraid that I would turn around and leave, he reached out and tightly grabbed my wrist.
"It seems Potter drowned," he said with a smile on his lips, not the kind of smile that others had to celebrate the fact that the Hogwarts champion had completed the competition first. He gloated, "Together with his most important treasure - whether it's that Weasley or that Black. I think the person who set up this task is a genius now."
My heart sank. It had been well over an hour, and I only vaguely remembered that the effect of Gillyweed lasted longer than an hour. Why didn't I confirm it in advance? I knew that Gillyweed originated from the Mediterranean Sea. It would have been so easy to find a book introducing Mediterranean plants in the library... But I just turned back to the common room as if I had completed the task Hermione had assigned to me.
Time passed by minute after minute, and Draco hummed a song cheerfully.
"The people they were rescuing... should be out of danger even if they weren't saved in time, right?" Greengrass asked in a low voice. Since just now, she had been tucking the hair that fell in front of her face behind her ears, touching the blue flower - shaped hairpin. "They weren't in a hurry to save Delacour's treasure, were they?"
"What are you so nervous about?" her sister sneered behind her. "You seem strange today."
A blush rose on Greengrass's bloodless face. As if trying to hide something, she lowered her head and stuffed her telescope into my hands.
I don't know how much longer passed, but the calm on the lake was broken again. Three people emerged from the water, and then a bunch of green - haired heads popped up beside them, making some shrill noises. Everyone in the stands stood up and tried desperately to see if they were still alive. For a moment, there was a hubbub of voices, and it was almost impossible to hear what anyone was saying.
Through the telescope, I saw that Harry not only rescued Talos but also brought up a little girl with silver hair. Delacour, who had been sobbing softly nearby, tried to jump into the water like crazy when she saw the little girl, but was pulled back by Madam Maxime. Harry didn't look well and didn't have the extra strength to deal with the little girl who was panicking and struggling wildly in the water (she didn't seem to be able to swim). Taurus swam over, grabbed her, and half - dragged, half - carried her to the shore.
"Who is that girl?" Greengrass crossed her arms and looked across the lake. The reflection of the little girl's silver hair made it hard to ignore her presence. She seemed to be extremely frightened. Even after getting to the shore, she didn't let go of Taurus's neck until she saw her sister and then sobbed and threw herself into her sister's arms.
"Maybe a relative of Delacour's," I said as I returned the telescope to her. But she looked at her sister with some fear and shook her head at me, so I continued to look through it. "Well, it seems they're going to announce the results of the competition." (I thought she probably didn't want to know that Delacour had kissed Harry and Taurus on the cheeks after hugging her sister just now.)
To everyone's surprise, although Harry was the last one to return with the hostages, the mermaid leader told Dumbledore that he was originally the first champion to find the hostages. The reason he stayed underwater for so long was that he kept negotiating with the mermaids to bring all the hostages back and finally insisted on taking Gabrielle Delacour, whom Miss Delacour had failed to rescue.
Finally, Dumbledore announced the scores of the four champions. Fleur Delacour got 25 points, Cedric Diggory got 47 points, Viktor Krum got 40 points. And because most of the judges were impressed by the moral integrity and sense of responsibility Harry had shown, he finally received a high score of 45 points.
"That old madman always does this," Almost no one had any objections to the result, but Draco's voice was particularly harsh among everyone's applause and cheers. "It was the same in the first year. We clearly won the House Cup fairly, but he came up with a bunch of reasons at the end to award points to Gryffindor."
"But they did protect the Philosopher's Stone," I couldn't help but retort. "And the scores of the champions aren't decided by Dumbledore alone."
"Oh, I forgot how excited and nervous you've been since just now," He glanced at the telescope in my hand, a sarcastic smile on his lips. "You can't take your eyes off Potter, can you? Do you think he's some kind of hero with moral integrity and a sense of responsibility?"
I opened my mouth, realizing I couldn't explain to him that my nervousness was only because Harry had used the Gillyweed I'd suggested. If something had happened to him, I would have felt a great sense of responsibility. If he knew that not only had I given Harry advice for the competition but also stayed with him until late at night yesterday, he probably wouldn't just be sitting here sneering at me in a caustic tone.
"Going back to the Great Hall for lunch?" Thinking of those times when I had walked away from him in his memory, I forced myself to smile this time. He seemed a bit surprised but didn't say anything more.
I returned the telescope to Greengrass. The discussions filled with joy and excitement around us had nothing to do with us. I couldn't run over to see how Hermione and the others were doing and listen to what had happened underwater like Ron did. I had been trying hard to separate my life in Gryffindor from my interactions with Draco, naively and greedily thinking that this could solve all the contradictions and maintain the current situation.
But the truth was, the calm joy that had been lingering since the Christmas Ball, like being soaked in honey - water, was finally broken. I felt an exhaustion welling up from the bottom of my heart. It wasn't just because I had only slept for less than an hour just now from yesterday until now. More importantly, I realized that our conversations were terrifyingly familiar. These unchanging scenarios were like an endless loop between Draco and me. Whether our relationship became closer or more distant, no matter how much time I spent with him and his Slytherin friends - even if one day the Sorting Hat declared that I was no longer a Gryffindor, that endless loop would always be there, like a curse. We had never truly escaped from it.
At least at that time, we refused to change ourselves for each other. Change seemed too painful, and this pain far exceeded the sweetness that a naive youthful relationship could bring. It was not until I understood this point long later that I finally realized why Dumbledore always thought that the power of love was so great that it transcended everything. Because only with love in their hearts are people willing to endure great pain and change themselves bit by bit, just to get closer to the one they deeply love.
Everyone was eager to know what had happened at the bottom of the lake. So, in the few days after the second task ended, there were always people crowding around Harry and the others, eager to hear their stories. Ron was actually the most enthusiastic one to tell. Apparently, people were not quite satisfied with Taurus's version of "We were taken away, hypnotized, and then I surfaced and woke up." And Hermione, now being called "Viktor Krum's most beloved treasure," was as grumpy as Hagrid's last Blast - ended Skrewt. So Ron took on the responsibility of relaying his friends' magical adventures for them (of course, he made a lot of artistic creations, and the versions he told were different every time).
Fleur Delacour's attitude towards Harry had a complete about - turn. She had never even regarded him as a rival before and had called him "that unruly little boy from Hogwarts" in an interview. But now, she would deliberately come over from the other side of the corridor to say hello to Harry. Her little sister, who, like her, could make many boys lose their ability to speak for a short time, obediently held her sister's hand and fluttered her long eyelashes at Harry and Talos.
"Miss Gabrielle is so cute," I said to Hermione as I watched the two Miss Delacours walk away arm in arm. "When I was a kid, I always dreamed of having a little sister. Then during the holidays, I could teach her to make potions. When she messed things up because she didn't know anything, I'd put her in the corner to stand as punishment."
"Isn't she going back to Beauxbatons?" Hermione asked this question and then found the answer herself. "Maybe the third task is coming up soon, and she's staying to watch the game. What are they gathering for up ahead?"
It was the last two consecutive Potions classes before the weekend. The Slytherins were already standing in front of my father's classroom. I watched them form a circle and could hear exaggerated laughter coming from inside. I had a bad feeling.
"Let's not go over there," I tightened my grip on Hermione's hand. "It must be something boring..."
"Here she is!" Pansy Parkinson's pug - like face peeked out from behind Goyle's broad back. The Slytherins dispersed, and she giggled, waving a copy of The Wizarding Weekly in her hand towards us. "There's something in here that you'll be interested in! Have a good look, Granger!"
Hermione caught the magazine in a panic. Before she could open it, the classroom door opened, and my father's face appeared behind it. He icily beckoned everyone to enter. Draco shooed Goyle, who was next to him, to another row. But seeing Parkinson, who was still doubled over with laughter across the aisle from him, I lowered my head and quickly walked over to Hermione's side to set up my cauldron.
My father had already started writing the potion we were going to make today on the blackboard. I glanced at it briefly and thought it was simple, then lowered my head and asked Hermione, "What did they want you to see?"
The trio of Harry at the back row were also craning their necks to find out what was going on. Fortunately, my father was still writing the steps.
"What on earth—" Hermione let out a low exclamation. I saw that in the middle of the magazine were pictures of Harry, Krum, and Longbottom in color, surrounding Hermione's name, with all sorts of messy arrows drawn beside it.
Hogwarts Reduced to a Socialite's Hunting Ground: Who Will Be the Next Fallen Star?
As a plain - looking young witch of Muggle - born origin, Miss Hermione Granger, who is still studying at Hogwarts, has apparently never given up her ambition to rise in society because of her ordinary background. While her peers are still buried in their studies at school, learning more magical knowledge, she has regarded the entire Hogwarts as a springboard for her life goals. According to reliable sources, since her first - year enrollment, Miss Granger has consciously approached the Boy Who Lived, Neville Longbottom, offering him care and help with ulterior motives. However, the shy and introverted boy did not meet her needs. Through some unknown means, she successfully made the son of the famous Auror James Potter abandon his childhood sweetheart and develop a passionate infatuation with her. And now, the same infatuation has also emerged in Viktor Krum, the Seeker of the Bulgarian team and the hero of the last Quidditch World Cup. Miss Granger clearly enjoys being chased by these outstanding men. Krum has been played by the cunning Miss Granger and is so infatuated that he doesn't even realize it. He has invited her to Bulgaria for the summer vacation and insists that he "has never felt this way about any other girl." However, Miss Granger's mediocre appearance and poor charisma do not seem to be enough to make her a skilled socialite. We interviewed many outstanding, beautiful, and lively girls at Hogwarts, and they all said they couldn't understand Krum's infatuation with Miss Granger. Pansy Parkinson believes that Miss Granger may have made a Love Potion to achieve her hunting goals.
At Hogwarts, Love Potions are clearly prohibited as dangerous items. Albus Dumbledore undoubtedly needs to investigate this matter seriously. The Triwizard Tournament, as a highly - anticipated event, has always been a friendly bridge for academic exchanges among young wizards in Europe. Those who use underhanded means to achieve their goals through this bridge must be condemned. We sincerely hope that outstanding young wizards will open their eyes wide and choose the one worthy of their true feelings to offer their passionate love.
Hermione laughed. She rolled up the magazine in her hand and casually threw it onto an empty chair beside her. The three boys who hadn't been able to see clearly from the back quickly crouched down (my father had already started looking around the classroom with a gloomy expression) and picked it up to read. She laughed even more heartily than Parkinson, as if she had heard the funniest joke in the world. Shaking her head, she began to take the scarab beetles for the Wit - Sharpening Potion from the medicine cabinet and quickly pounded them into powder.
"Are you okay?" I looked at her worriedly, wondering if she was so angry that she was muddled.
"Fine, couldn't be better." She straightened up and even waved to the gloating Slytherins. "I thought Rita Skeeter had some extraordinary tricks. Turns out she's only capable of this - writing this kind of rubbish."
"Do you know how many people will see this?" Ron's weak voice came from behind. "She described you as that kind of - that kind of woman... What will others think when they see it?"
"Why should I care what others think?" Hermione turned around, holding the pestle, her eyes shining brightly. "The people close to me, they naturally know what kind of person I am. Has Rita Skeeter convinced you already?"
"Of course not." Ron shouted this a bit too loudly, and I saw my father looking at us menacingly.
I anxiously reached out to tug at Hermione's sleeve, but she seemed very excited. "Yes, you won't. My friends won't believe this nonsense, and neither will my parents. What do I have to worry about?"
"Well said." Taurus clapped his hands. "To hell with that reporter!"
Seeing that my father had stepped down from the podium, in a hurry, I snatched the magazine from Harry's hand and stuffed it into my robe.
"Your lives are always full of excitement, but that's no reason to whisper in my class. Ten points from Gryffindor," I had just lowered my head to pound the scarab beetles in front of me when I heard my father's gloomy voice. "Miss Granger, Potter, Weasley, and Black - Potter, do you think that just because you managed to stay in the lake for an hour by luck, you can get away with not doing my class tasks from now on?"
"Not at all," I was grinding the scarab beetle powder while listening to Harry's tense voice. "I just couldn't find the scarab beetles in time, Professor."
"Liar," my father said mercilessly, his voice dropping. It was hard to hear clearly among the gurgling sounds of cauldrons in the classroom. "You're not only as arrogant and rude as your father, but now you're also a habitual liar... African snake skin, and Gillyweed... Don't think you can get away with it every time. The next time I catch you breaking into my office, it will be the time I write to your father about your expulsion."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry replied coldly. "And I don't understand why you always bring up my father whenever you scold me, Professor."
"Insolent retort. Another ten points from Gryffindor," my father seemed furious. He almost roared, "Next time if you talk to me in this tone, I might accidentally pour a few drops of Veritaserum into your pumpkin juice and invite your beloved father to Hogwarts to hear about his son's misdeeds over the years—"
"Ouch!" I shook my hand.
"What happened?" My father immediately turned his head, still in an angry tone.
"The cauldron just boiled over for a moment," I said in a low voice. "I thought..."
"How many times have I told you, Iris, the boiling liquid with powdered ginger root is highly corrosive!" My father left Harry and quickly walked over to check the back of my hand, scolding me sternly. "Taking shortcuts comes with uncontrollable risks. You can never remember this, can you? Another ten points from Gryffindor!"
"I'm sorry, Professor," I was glad that the pungent powdered ginger root made it easy for me to well up with tears. "Next time..."
"Do you still dare to have a next time?" He pointed his wand at my hand.
"No more next time," I said, looking into his eyes. "I was wrong, Dad."
"Wasn't the price you paid to divert your father's attention too high?" Hermione said after my father turned around and left to give other Gryffindors a hard time. "You did it on purpose just now. You stirred the pot with a tin spoon, and of course it would boil over immediately..."
"If you keep arguing, he really will give you Veritaserum," I turned around and gave Harry a warning look. He showed a chagrined expression. "I don't want any trouble, okay?"
Our subsequent discussions were much more cautious, almost talking with just the corners of our mouths. Ron almost jumped up and knocked over his cauldron when Hermione mentioned that Krum had actually invited her to Bulgaria. She thought this was the only thing worthy of attention in the whole report. Krum had invited her when they just came ashore and there was no one around. How did Rita Skeeter know about this?
"It was the same with Hagrid last time," she said as she measured armadillo bile, lost in thought. "There was no one around... How did she do it?"
The rest of the Potions class was quite calm. The Wit - Sharpening Potion didn't seem to have much technical difficulty to me, but Longbottom still melted his cauldron, causing some commotion - the burnt armadillo bile smelled awful. My father's podium was, as usual, piled with phials filled with all kinds of strange - looking finished potions. I stuck the name tag on my phial. Among the Slytherins' bottles, only one had a clear liquid in it. I took a look, and sure enough, Draco's name was scrawled on the label.
I had just finished tidying up the ingredients and took the magazine out of my robe and put it in my schoolbag when Draco, with a very bad expression, slung his schoolbag over one shoulder and appeared in front of Hermione's and my table. He grabbed me without a word and pulled me away. As soon as we went up the steps, we saw Karkaroff hurrying in the other direction with an anxious look. He looked much more haggard than at the Christmas Ball. His goatee was all tangled up, and he didn't even bother to tidy it. He kept touching one of his arms from time to time, as if it was injured.
"Where are we going, Draco?" I asked him blankly.
"Anywhere," he stopped walking, turned around, and replied angrily. "I just want to keep them away from my girlfriend - let me see your hand."