Harry Potter: The Golden Viper
0775 Ready to Begin

"NO"

Hermione's sudden piercing scream nearly shattered the silence in the common room. The friends surrounding her all had expressions of shock, and for a moment, they almost thought Hermione had encountered something again, perhaps suffered a dark curse or something.

"I actually!" Hermione stamped her feet force, her entire body trembling on the verge of complete collapse. Her voice cracked with her realization. "I actually just realized what's happening!"

Everyone in the common room, students scattered across the comfortable armchairs, others gathered around the crackling fireplace, some ascending or descending the staircases leading to the dormitories had frozen in place, their conversations dying mid-sentence as they stared at Hermione with expressions of concern and bewilderment.

But Hermione gave no explanation to the sea of worried faces turned toward her. Instead, with movements that seemed almost frantic in their urgency, she pushed past Fred and George who had been blocking her path to the exit. The twins, caught off guard by her sudden movement, stumbled backward as they tried to regain their balance.

Like a woman possessed, Hermione rushed toward the portrait hole with determination. She disappeared behind the Fat Lady's portrait in what seemed like a flash of movement, leaving behind only the faint echo of her footsteps and the lingering sense of her panic.

The Fat Lady, startled from her peaceful morning sleep by the sudden commotion, swung open with a disapproving huff. "Well, I never! The manners of students these days!" she muttered indignantly, her face showing greatest offense at being so rudely awakened.

Even the most foolish student in the common room would have known that something terrible had happened. Harry and Ron's dormmates'—Neville, Seamus, and Dean, along with the Weasley siblings and even the younger Creevey brothers, who had been quietly observing from a corner, all exchanged shocked glances.

For a single, frozen moment, they remained paralyzed by what they had witnessed. Then, as if responding to some invisible signal, they simultaneously stepped forward to chase after their friend.

They had delayed for less than ten seconds, but in the corridors of Hogwarts, where moving staircases and endless passages could swallow students whole, even such a brief hesitation was enough. By the time they managed to organize themselves and pour through the portrait hole in pursuit, Hermione had already vanished into the castle.

They followed the logical path she would have taken, down the main corridors toward the Great Hall, but when they finally caught up with her, she had already descended to the fifth floor.

"What on earth is happening, Hermione?" Neville called out.

Ever since returning from St. Mungo's, Neville had shown certain leadership qualities. His composure was remarkably conspicuous among the group of underage wizards. He leaped over several steps at a time and was the first to catch up with Hermione.

"Are Harry and Ron in some kind of trouble?" He pressed, his voice filled with concern.

"The second task is under the Black Lake, Neville!" Hermione called back over her shoulder.

Her movements were almost superhuman in their desperation. With each step down the staircases, Hermione could nearly leap half a flight of stairs. It was a reckless speed that could easily result in a twisted ankle, a broken bone, or worse but she seemed beyond caring about such unnecessary concerns as personal safety.

She had to concentrate on maintaining her balance and crossing the staircases, so she could only manage the briefest of explanations.

The fact that the second task was taking place under the Black Lake could hardly be considered breaking news anymore. After all, the tournament organizers had been busy for the past several days, setting up platforms and viewing areas around the lake's border.

The entire school had been buzzing with speculation about what the champions would face in the dark waters, and even the most casual observer had pieced together the general location of the upcoming trial.

"But what does this have to do with Harry and Ron?" Neville asked in confusion.

Neville was the only one among their group who could keep pace with Hermione's breakneck speed while still having enough breath remaining to ask questions.

"You don't understand, Neville—huff—" Hermione began, her explanation interrupted by the stresses of her desperate flight.

She executed a perfect leap over one of the trick steps on the rotating staircase and in the blink of an eye, this group of Gryffindor students, who had attracted considerable attention from other house members and even some professors with their chase through the corridors, appeared on the second-floor platform.

The notice posted in the entrance hall had officially informed the entire school that the second task would take place in the Black Lake, and the various house heads and prefects were already organizing their respective teams outside the steps below the entrance hall to watch the competition.

"They're going to take away the champions' treasures—they have to find them within an hour, or else—" Hermione's voice cracked with her fear, "they'll never see them again!"

Hermione's explanation was jumbled, but Neville immediately understood. His face went white in an instant, and he cried out in shock,

"You mean Harry and Ron have been taken to the bottom of the Black Lake, and your trial is to rescue them within an hour?!"

"I'm so glad you understand, Neville!" Hermione said anxiously.

She glanced quickly at the official notice posted in the entrance hall, and wanted rush outside immediately, to throw herself into the lake and begin searching for her friends without delay.

But as she moved toward the doors that led to the grounds, Neville suddenly grabbed her from behind. His expression was serious and resolute.

"I bet you haven't had time to eat breakfast yet, Hermione," He said calmly.

"Breakfast?" Hermione's eyes went completely blank for a moment.

She stared at Neville with an expression of complete absurdity, as if he had suggested something utterly ridiculous and inappropriate given the circumstances. Her mouth opened and closed several times before she found her voice again.

"Oh, no, Neville, you have to listen to me—" She said with rising desperation, her voice taking on a pleading tone. "Harry and Ron are waiting for me to rescue them right now, at this very moment! They're trapped at the bottom of that lake, possibly running out of air, possibly surrounded by dangerous creatures. I can't waste a single moment, or else—"

"The competition hasn't started yet, has it?" Neville interrupted gently but firmly.

He maintained his grip on Hermione's sleeve, his fingers gentle but unyielding as he refused to let her go.

"Going down to the Black Lake, searching for Harry and Ron in such a huge body of water—no matter how you look at it, this is going to be incredibly demanding physical work, isn't it, Hermione? You're going to need every ounce of strength you can muster, every bit of energy your body can provide. You must eat something significant, or you'll never have the stamina to save them."

The logic of his argument was undeniable, and slowly, the wild panic in Hermione's eyes began to give way to rational thought.

The others finally caught up one by one. The Weasley siblings looked at Hermione with faces completely drained of color. Even the normally playful Fred and George, who could find humor in almost any situation, had completely abandoned their usual jokes and pranks.

The Weasley children had always maintained a tradition of teasing each other mercilessly, their constant banter and pranks was an essential part of their family dynamic. But when any member of their family truly faced danger, they would unite with remarkable solidarity.

Hermione could clearly see reproach flickering in their eyes, especially from Ginny, whose feelings for both boys ran deeper than simple friendship. For her, both Ron and Harry were people who simply 'couldn't be lost,'.

"You're right, Neville—" Hermione finally reluctantly accepted.

She pressed her lips together in determination, then rushed toward the end of the nearest dining table. Her movements were efficient and desperate as she grabbed several pieces of bread and meat pies from the breakfast service.

She swallowed the food in large, hurried bites, barely taking time to chew properly as she forced herself to consume the nutrition she would desperately need.

After managing to consume what she hoped would be sufficient, she pushed through the crowded entrance hall.

"I need to find Professor McGonagall first and get the situation completely clear," She said to her trailing companions.

"Get back to your assigned groups, Mr. Longbottom, and the rest of you!" came the sharp voice of Professor McGonagall.

When they finally located the stern Professor McGonagall, she was in the process of leading the Gryffindor students across the castle grounds toward the Black Lake.

Perhaps the excessively slow gathering speed of the Gryffindor house had made Professor McGonagall feel particularly displeased. Her generally stern expression had taken on an even more sterner look, and she didn't give Neville and the others approaching a pleasant expression when they approached her small group.

Her lips were pressed into disapproval, and her eyes flashed with impatience as she observed the scattered students who seemed more interested in chatting about the upcoming competition than in following proper protocols.

But when she turned to face Hermione, she still managed to show a gentle smile.

"How are you feeling, Hermione?" She asked warmly.

"Oh, alright—" Hermione replied quietly. But immediately after this automatic response, her control cracked, and she asked with desperate urgency that made her voice rise several octaves, "Professor McGonagall, I heard from Neville that you took Harry and Ron away last night. Are they now—if we're guessing correctly about what's happening?"

"Your judgment is very accurate—" Professor McGonagall pressed her lips together. "They've already been taken away by the merpeople, transported to the depths of the lake. They're currently down there underwater, waiting for you to rescue them."

Many students had been straining their ears to eavesdrop on this conversation propriety. When they heard Professor McGonagall's confirmation, an immediate uproar arose among the crowd.

"Quiet!" Professor McGonagall shouted loud. She glared sternly at the chattering students then gently placed her hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"Go on, Hermione," She said softly, "I believe they're already summoning the champions to the competition area. Don't worry about Harry and Ron—Professor Watson personally cast the protective spells on them himself. They'll be perfectly fine until you can reach them."

Hermione's pale complexion and obvious distress made Professor McGonagall's heart ache with concern.

Before Hermione could leave to face her trial, Professor McGonagall leaned closer and muttered quietly, her words meant for Hermione's ears alone: "You have the skill, the intelligence, and the courage to succeed, Miss Granger. Trust in yourself, and remember that your friends are counting on you but they also believe in you completely."

The day had dawned sunny and bright, with clear skies that promised perfect visibility for the thousands of spectators who would be watching the second task.

But after approaching the Black Lake, Hermione felt a deep, bone-chilling chill. She had no time to think about what the underwater environment would be like once she entered. Instead, she ran desperately along the lakeside path toward the opposite shore where the competition area had been established.

The venue for the second task, while impressive in its own right, wasn't nearly as grand as the highland stadium that had been constructed for the first task's dragon challenge. Instead of stands filled with thousands of seats, the organizers had erected rows of more modest seating arrangements by the lake's edge, along with four platforms for the champions to enter the water.

Of course, the massive screen that would broadcast the competition to the crowd had still been erected.

As Hermione approached the competition area, she noticed many small, winged creatures skimming along the lake's surface. She realized these were Professor Watson's Omnioculars, also known as monitoring mirrors.

She had heard through the school's rumor network that these particular magical instruments couldn't function properly underwater, a limitation that actually gave her considerable relief. The thought of her tail-sprouting magical transformation being magnified and projected on the enormous screen for the entire European wizarding world to witness filled her with horror.

If her partially-transformed appearance were to be displayed in such a public and embarrassing manner, she genuinely felt she would rather spend another half-month recovering in the private ward of St. Mungo's Hospital than face the humiliation.

After approaching the competition area, Hermione saw a table covered with a golden tablecloth on the grass by the lake. Cedric Diggory, Fleur Delacour, and Viktor Krum were all standing in a loose semicircle around the judges' table. All three champions looked up as Hermione approached over several small puddles.

"Sorry, am I late?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

The ground near the judges' table was indeed soggy. Hermione glided across the muddy surface like a figure skater on ice, covering more than ten feet in a single motion before coming to a steady stop at the table's edge.

"Oh, there's still half an hour before the official start!" Ludo Bagman said with his typical booming enthusiasm.

He seemed genuinely impressed by Hermione's display of stamina and athletic ability, after running for so long, she appeared to be only slightly out of breath.

Professor Moody was patrolling by the lake. Seeing Hermione, he casually wandered over, merely glancing at Hermione who was listening to Ludo's briefing, then cast his gaze toward Cedric, who hesitated slightly before giving an almost imperceptible nod.

"My treasure is Cho Chang, Fleur's is her little sister Gabrielle, which makes sense given how close they are. Krum's choice is rather strange, though—the judges decided to take the Durmstrang headmaster himself, and the irony is that he's also serving as one of the judges for this task. Who is your treasure, Hermione?"

Ten minutes before the official start of the competition, Professor McGonagall finally succeeded in herding the Gryffindor students toward the viewing area. The competition zone immediately became chaotic as hundreds of excited students, teachers, and visiting dignitaries found their assigned seats and began chattering excitedly about the upcoming show.

Cedric had tactfully moved away from Bagman's vicinity, perhaps to avoid any unwanted advice or interference, and was now chatting casually with Hermione as they both gazed out at the lake's calm surface.

"I think it should be Harry and Ron," Hermione replied.

She continued to study the surface of the Black Lake with intense concentration, her mind working heatedly to judge which direction would be most logical for her to search once she entered the water.

"Two treasures?" Cedric said in surprise and sympathy flickered in his eyes.

"They probably couldn't figure out which one of them was most important to you, so they simply decided to take both to avoid having to make an impossible choice. That's going to make your task significantly more difficult."

He paused for a moment, then asked with concern, "By the way, have you managed to find a reliable way to breathe underwater?"

"I figured out a solution just a few days ago," Hermione replied, her gaze never leaving the lake's surface as she continued to analyze the terrain and plan her approach strategy. "But I have to admit, I'm not entirely sure if something might go wrong during the actual implementation.

You know how it is—the spells that are most effective for this kind of underwater work are typically practiced by upper-year students who have more experience and magical maturity. I'm basically fumbling around in the dark."

"Oh—" Cedric nodded thoughtfully. He casually moved closer to Hermione, positioning himself so that their conversation would appear natural to any observers while simultaneously creating a small pocket of privacy. A dark green object, slid smoothly into his palm.

He gently touched the back of Hermione's hand with his own, the contact brief and seemingly accidental as both continued to pretend to survey the Black Lake.

"You helped me tremendously during the first task, Hermione," He said quietly. "I feel that I must return—"

The absent-minded Hermione, who had been lost in her strategic planning, immediately became alert to what was happening. Her sharp intellect quickly recognized Cedric's small gesture and understood exactly what he was attempting to give her.

She had seen a detailed illustration in the book that Sirius had given her. The plant, gillyweed had once helped one of Sirius's ancestors cross through similarly dangerous underwater trials. It was incredibly rare, extremely precious, and almost impossible to obtain through normal channels.

"No!" Hermione exclaimed. As if electrocuted, She moved away from Cedric.

"Oh, Cedric, I'm deeply grateful for your concern, but absolutely not. This is your solution—you should use it yourself without any hesitation. Besides, I have my own plan."

"But this is actually—" Cedric began, glancing nervously behind him toward the judges' panel.

He was clearly afraid that his persistent attempts to help might be noticed by the tournament officials, which could result in penalties or disqualification for both of them.

But before he could complete his explanation, Hermione had already begun moving away from him, following Fleur and Viktor as they jogged toward their respective diving platforms in preparation for the task's official start.

After watching her departure with an expression of helpless frustration, Cedric could only shrug his shoulders in resigned defeat. He carefully stuffed the gillyweed back into his own pocket, though he had no intention of using it himself.

"Now then!" came Ludo Bagman's magically amplified voice.

From his position at the judges' panel, his words boomed across the dark surface of the lake, reaching every corner of the stands.

"Our brave champions are in position! The moment I blow this whistle, the second task will officially begin! They have exactly one hour—no more, no less—to recover what has been taken from them. The stakes could not be higher, and the margin for error is nonexistent!"

"On the count of three!" Bagman continued, his voice building to a crescendo.

"One!"

"Two!"

"Three!"

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