On the open ground by the lake, a long table covered with a golden-yellow tablecloth stood out prominently that was where the judges' panel was positioned.
However, at present only three judges were seated there: Dumbledore, Bagman, and Moody.
Dumbledore still wore his blue robes, his face bearing a gentle smile, though his eyes concealed a hint of gravity.
Bagman appeared somewhat excited, holding a silver whistle in his hand and blowing it from time to time.
Moody sat in his chair, the magical lens in his solitary eye constantly rotating, vigilantly scanning the surrounding environment, not missing even the slightest disturbance.
Just as Sherlock and Harry walked up to the three judges, footsteps sounded in the distance.
Madame Maxime, wearing a deep blue silk gown, was leading the Beauxbatons champions toward them.
Professor Karkaroff, dressed in black robes with a grim expression, followed behind with the Durmstrang competitors by his side.
When the two groups converged by the lake, the atmosphere in the air instantly became tense.
A competition concerning honor and life or death was about to begin.
"The task will officially begin in fifteen minutes," Ludo Bagman said, checking the time before turning to Moody. "Alastor, shall I be hosting again this time?"
Although he knew Moody most likely had no interest in such matters, out of courtesy and protocol, he asked tentatively anyway.
"You can handle it, Ludo," Moody said gruffly. "I just need to be responsible for scoring."
"Excellent!" Bagman blew his whistle excitedly, then asked the six champions from the three schools, "I trust you all know what you need to do now, correct?"
After receiving affirmative responses from everyone, Bagman smiled slightly, his gaze sweeping over each of the six in turn.
He paused particularly on Sherlock and Harry, giving them an encouraging look before continuing, "Then the matter is simple—when it reaches nine-thirty, you must enter the lake bottom and retrieve from the merpeople the most precious thing that was taken from you. The time limit is one hour. Naturally, whoever uses the least time will earn the highest score. Hey, it's just that simple!"
No one asked what would happen if they exceeded the hour.
It seemed everyone consciously avoided this topic.
Soon, the seats on the far side of the lake were completely filled.
Watching this scene, Harry suddenly realized something.
He turned sideways and lowered his voice to ask Sherlock, "When we go underwater, won't the audience be unable to see anything?"
"The organizers should have some method, using special means to let them see what we're doing at the lake bottom, like having cameras set up underwater," Sherlock said, shaking his head.
"If they really just let the audience sit here doing nothing for a whole hour, I can only say they're a bunch of amateurs," Sherlock added.
Hearing Sherlock's words, Harry couldn't help but nod.
Right—this was the Triwizard Tournament, a competition jointly hosted by Europe's three largest magical schools. It shouldn't be that poorly organized.
Next, Ludo Bagman came to stand among the champions, instructing them to line up along the shore in a single row, with ten feet of space between champions from each school.
Sherlock and Harry were positioned last, right next to the two Durmstrang champions.
The two Durmstrang champions appeared well-prepared. They both wore swimming trunks and held their wands in their hands.
"Is everyone ready?" Bagman asked once more. After receiving confirmation from everyone, he returned to the judges' table.
Then, he pointed his wand at his throat, just as he had done at the World Cup and during the first task, and said, "Sonorus!"
His voice then thundered across the dark surface of the lake toward the stands.
"Listen carefully, everyone. Our champions are now in position. As soon as I blow my whistle, the second task will begin. They have a full hour to retrieve what has been taken from them. I'll count to three. One... two... three!"
The shrill whistle blast echoed through the cold, still air.
The stands erupted in cheers and applause.
Almost simultaneously, the Durmstrang champions and the Beauxbatons champions raised their wands and recited their spells.
"Bubble-Head Charm!"
When bubble-like fishbowls appeared over the heads of the Beauxbatons champions, someone couldn't help but shout out.
After successfully casting the Bubble-Head Charm, the man and woman immediately dove into the water.
Next came Durmstrang.
"Look, it's Transfiguration!"
"But it doesn't seem to have worked properly."
The two Durmstrang champions had originally intended to transform themselves into sharks.
However, this level of Transfiguration was clearly quite difficult for them.
The result was that they did indeed transform themselves into enormous creatures, but with shark heads attached to human bodies still wearing swimming trunks.
This incongruous transformation inevitably made them look somewhat comical.
But at this moment, the two Durmstrang champions obviously couldn't worry about such things, and with a "splash" they jumped into the water.
As the four champions from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang entered the water one after another, while Sherlock and Harry remained completely unmoved, the audience grew somewhat anxious.
"What are they doing?"
"There's only an hour—why haven't they made a move yet?"
"Could it be they didn't solve the golden egg's secret and don't know how to respond?"
"Impossible, absolutely impossible!"
"That's Sherlock Holmes—with him there, how could they fail to solve the golden egg's secret?"
At the judges' table, Ludo Bagman also felt somewhat nervous.
Just as Sherlock had deduced earlier, he had placed heavy bets on Hogwarts's champions.
They absolutely couldn't drop the ball at this critical moment!
Professor Karkaroff appeared quite pleased, looking excitedly toward Dumbledore.
But the home-team Dumbledore still wore a smile, looking completely calm.
Madame Maxime frowned at this sight.
Moody's expression was the most complex, appearing both dissatisfied and happy.
However, in the next moment, Sherlock and Harry, as if by prior agreement, raised their wands at the same instant,
"Accio scuba gear!"
Just like in the first task, two sets of diving equipment immediately came whooshing toward them from the direction of the castle.
"Goodness, it's the Summoning Charm again! Following their successful use of the Summoning Charm in the first task, Hogwarts's two champions have done it again, successfully using the Summoning Charm once more! But what exactly is scuba gear?"
"I knew it—they don't even know what scuba gear is!"
In the audience, Ron shouted excitedly.
"Weasley, are you saying you know?"
"Of course I know!"
Ron immediately began enthusiastically explaining to the surrounding young wizards—he thoroughly enjoyed this feeling of everyone listening to him.
Hermione watched Ron showing off and shook her head helplessly.
Just then, Cho Chang suddenly spoke up, "They've been practicing for quite a while, haven't they?"
This time, Cho Chang and Luna hadn't gone to sit with Ravenclaw, but instead chose to sit together with Hermione, Ginny, Ron, and the others.
"That's right!" Hermione nodded firmly. "As long as nothing goes wrong, they'll definitely be able to complete the task within an hour."
Hermione's words made both Cho Chang and Ginny beside her breathe a sigh of relief.
Luna looked curiously at Sherlock and Harry, who were putting on their scuba gear by the shore, and asked, "Just by wearing those things, they can breathe underwater?"
"That's right."
This time it was Cho Chang who answered.
As a half-blood witch, she had some understanding of scuba gear, so she quietly explained its function to Luna, who listened very attentively.
Sherlock and Harry performed very steadily, taking less than five minutes to don their equipment before diving into the Black Lake together.
Once underwater, Harry suddenly discovered that scuba gear was much more convenient than the Bubble-Head Charm.
When using the Bubble-Head Charm for extended periods, the air used for underwater breathing would inevitably become turbid.
But scuba gear had no such problem—it was almost no different from being on land.
The only slight trouble was that movement in water wasn't as convenient as on land.
However, after a month of winter swimming practice, this bit of trouble was easily overcome.
The trouble Harry felt didn't exist at all for Sherlock.
Even without scuba gear, he himself possessed considerable free-diving ability, not to mention now that he was fully equipped.
As for finding Cedric, who had been kidnapped by the merpeople underwater, that was even less of a problem.
However, they still encountered difficulties.
Naturally, these difficulties once again involved Harry.
Without any warning at all, Harry, who had been following closely behind Sherlock, suddenly felt his ankle tighten as something grabbed hold of it.
Harry twisted around and immediately saw a Grindylow.
He had encountered these creatures in Professor Lupin's Defense Against the Dark Arts class—they were water demons with horns on their heads.
Their favorite activity was lurking in water and ambushing passersby.
He hadn't expected to encounter one here.
At that moment, it emerged from the water plants, its long fingernails gripping Harry's leg tightly, revealing sharp fangs in its mouth.
Seeing this, Harry quickly reached into his robes to grab his wand.
But just as he grasped his wand, two more Grindylows emerged from the water plants, seizing Harry's robes and desperately pulling him downward.
Meanwhile, Sherlock also sensed something from the change in water flow around him.
Turning his head, he discovered his younger companion was being entangled by three Grindylows.
Without a word, Sherlock rushed toward Harry.
But just then, three more Grindylows burst from the nearby water plants, lunging toward him with claws extended.
Clearly, they were trying to separate Sherlock and Harry, preventing him from rescuing his teammate.
The nearest water demon opened its dripping fangs, its withered claw-like fingers stabbing straight toward Sherlock's abdomen.
Sherlock snorted coldly, dodging sideways while simultaneously lashing out with his right fist like lightning, hammering heavily into the Grindylow's lower jaw.
A muffled thud spread through the water. The creature's head snapped to the side, its horned crown striking a rock. After twitching twice, it went still.
The other two Grindylows attacked from both sides—one trying to entangle his legs, the other attempting to bite his shoulder.
Sherlock swept out with his left leg, wrapped in the force of the water current, viciously kicking the creature on his left in the waist.
The Grindylow let out a silent wail, bubbles pouring from its mouth as it was kicked away like a rag, crashing into a clump of water plants.
The creature on his right seized the opportunity to lunge closer. Rather than retreating, Sherlock advanced, his right hand transforming from fist to palm, chopping down on its throat, then following up with a left elbow strike.
The Grindylow's neck bones cracked audibly as it went limp and sank toward the lake bottom.
The entire process took only seconds, and all three Grindylows had been cleanly dispatched by Sherlock.
He hadn't even used his wand, relying purely on hand-to-hand combat techniques.
The scuba regulator swayed slightly with his movements, yet he seemed as comfortable as if he were on dry land.
However, Harry's crisis was becoming increasingly severe.
Three Grindylows clung to him stubbornly.
One used its long fingernails to grip his ankle, dragging him toward the deeper water plants, while the other two clutched his robe hem, their sharp teeth gnawing at his calves.
Harry wasn't entirely without recourse, though.
In his panic, he still managed to draw his wand and shouted, "Relashio!"
Unfortunately, his movements were distorted by the water current and the creatures' pulling.
The scuba mask fogged over, his vision becoming blurry.
Fortunately, although his wand didn't shoot sparks at the Grindylows, it still discharged a jet of boiling water.
The nearest Grindylow was struck by the jet, its green skin immediately turning bright red.
This brief moment was enough for Sherlock to come to his aid.
The instant he eliminated his own threats, Sherlock kicked off with both legs, shooting toward Harry's position like a torpedo.
The water's resistance seemed to have no effect on him. Without a word, and still not employing his wand, he directly punched the creature that was intently tearing at Harry's robes in the head.
The creature loosened its grip in pain. Immediately after, Sherlock drove his knee into its abdomen.
The Grindylow curled up, and Sherlock seized its horn and slammed it viciously against a nearby rock.
The creature's eyes bulged out as it lost consciousness and sank.
The second Grindylow reacted slightly faster, abandoning Harry to lunge at Sherlock instead.
Sherlock sneered, dodging the claw strike and precisely striking its skull with his right fist.
The creature's movements stuttered. Sherlock's left hand had already seized its arm, executing an over-the-shoulder throw that slammed it into the lake-bottom mud.
Amid the roiling bubbles, the Grindylow stopped moving.
Seeing all its companions instantly eliminated, the Grindylow that had been hit by Harry's spell earlier was stunned.
Its attacking motion halted. It shook its fist at Sherlock in what seemed like a threatening gesture, then disappeared into the water plants.
With the crisis resolved, Sherlock grasped Harry and quickly examined his injuries.
Harry's ankle and calf bore several scratches and bite marks, but they weren't serious.
These minor wounds healed immediately as Sherlock waved his wand.
Then Sherlock signaled Harry to slow down and began surveying their surroundings.
Harry felt somewhat ashamed.
He hadn't expected to need Sherlock's help so quickly.
Just then, Sherlock pulled him along, indicating that Harry should swim higher while pointing in a certain direction.
Harry's eyes immediately brightened.
He realized Sherlock had very likely already found their target location.
Nodding emphatically, he was about to follow Sherlock and continue forward when suddenly a voice sounded beside them:
"How is your progress going?"
When these words rang in his ears, the fright Harry received was even greater than when the Grindylows had ambushed him.
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