"Still haven't found a clue, Harry?"
Hermione slipped in from outside the Gryffindor Common Room. She looked at the boy sitting by the fireplace, staring blankly while holding a giant golden egg.
"No, not a clue. Do you want to hear it again?"
Harry made a move to open the cracks on the golden egg, causing the little wizards around to cover their ears simultaneously.
"Forget it, please, I beg you—"
Hermione quickly waved her hands, indicating she didn't want to hear the ghostly wail again.
It's been more than half a month since the first round of the Eight-Team Tournament, and less than half a month remains before the next one. Yet Harry still has no clue about the "hidden mystery" in the golden egg in his hands—
Harry first opened it during the celebration feast thrown by Gryffindor for him after he took second place in the first event.
It was an extremely terrifying, sharp, and piercing scream. Harry had previously heard a similar sound only at Nearly Headless Nick's deathday party when the ghost band played saws—indeed, it was as grating as nails scraping a chalkboard.
The sound made people want to die.
"And you? Didn't you say you would discreetly ask Senior William, about that thing..."
Harry gathered his thoughts, which had been drifting away, and turned to look in another direction in the common room before quickly averting his gaze.
"I-I couldn't find the senior. Professor Lupin said he might be busy."
When this subject came up, Hermione slumped on the couch like a deflated balloon. Lupin had also said he's only seen William twice in the past week, as the latter seemed to be busy again due to some sudden situation—but now that Christmas was approaching, what if that guy got ahead...?
Hermione bit her lip, looking somewhat unwilling.
"Then what should I do? I'm absolutely clueless—"
Harry lay on the couch, starting to writhe, wail, and crawl in despair... Hermione was much the same. Nearby, George and Fred exchanged a glance, then stepped forward, "Looks like you're facing some unsolvable troubles, want to try our gadgets..."
Recently, the two were looking to expand the production scale of "Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes" and urgently needed some test subjects—
But so far, apart from the unfortunate Ron, no one else had been successfully persuaded by them.
"Hey, Harry!"
During his boredom, Harry heard someone calling him, so he raised his head to find Colin Creevey standing at the exit of the common room, accompanied by his brother Daniel Creevey, who had just started school this year, "Cedric Diggory is waiting for you at the door—"
"...Could it be related to the golden egg?"
Hermione reacted instinctively, as the champions only had a month and a half to solve the puzzle. Recently, they were all delving into the mysteries of the golden egg. Of course, except for the two champions from Durmstrang and the Magic Institute, who, having no egg, could only be futilely outraged.
"Probably, I'll go have a look."
Harry nodded, got up with the golden egg, bypassed Fred who was still trying to persuade him, and walked out of the common room.
Cedric was indeed leaning against a wall not far away, squatting there without any particular demeanor. He was also holding a golden egg. Before Harry could greet him, Cedric stood up excitedly and eagerly, grabbed Harry's arm, "Come, come, come, follow me to have a bath!!"
"?"
Harry blinked in confusion, then his face changed drastically, shaking off Cedric's hand forcefully.
No way, dude, have you finally gone perverted?
...
It took Cedric fifteen minutes to barely convince the stern-faced Harry clutching his backside that he wasn't into men.
Of course, Harry's reflexive reaction can't be blamed, as this kind of thing is commonly documented in Little Britain, which almost lost Northern Ireland and isn't much of a United Kingdom.
In short, there are many gays around here, so some things have to be guarded against.
"So, it's underwater?"
Standing by the pool in the Prefect Bathroom, Harry looked at Cedric, who had already immersed himself in the pool, and wrinkled his brow skeptically.
"I really have no interest in your butt—"
Cedric immediately raised three fingers in an oath, "Believe me, I prefer my own."
"Alright, enough, I'm going in."
Harry sighed, talking about such topics in a bathroom always felt a bit odd. He glanced around, then realized—
Being a Prefect wasn't too bad; just having access to this bathroom was worth it.
A luxurious chandelier lit with candles cast a warm, gentle glow throughout the room. Everything here was made of gleaming white marble, including the sunken rectangular pool in the middle. Around the edges were about a hundred golden taps, each with a differently colored jewel set into its handle.
Besides, there was a diving board by the pool, which Cedric had just used to jump in.
Next to it, a large number of soft white towels were hung in a corner, and a golden frame housed a painting on the wall. The picture depicted a blonde mermaid, sleeping soundly on a rock, with her long hair draped over her face, slightly fluttering with each breath.
"Will she wake up?"
Staring at the mermaid painting on the wall for a long time, Harry suddenly asked absent-mindedly.
"Don't worry, no one will spy on you here—"
Cedric said loudly.
"Not necessarily."
The voice came from above the ceiling. Both of them looked up in some alarm, only to see a ghostly girl with a sorrowful expression emerging from the corner of the ceiling's pipe.
"..."
Crying Moaning Myrtle, a ghost who often wept sadly in the pipes of the second-floor bathroom, Harry recognized her as someone who had been attacked by the Basilisk in his second year and had been Petrified for half a semester. That year, he had also stayed in the Hospital Wing for a few days, and she slept next to him—
Those eyes, seemed filled with endless fear and sorrow, could be quite eerie in the middle of the night.
"Ah, it's you."
Moaning Myrtle seemed to have just noticed Harry and reluctantly moved her gaze away from Cedric's six-pack abs, speaking somewhat resentfully, "So you two plan to have a tryst here—aren't you being a bit bold... never mind, it's none of my business, just remember to clean up—"
Although Moaning Myrtle said this, she still slowly sat down on a faucet, with no intention of leaving.
"Do you often sneak here to spy on the prefects taking baths?"
Cedric was now mostly submerged in the water, staring at Moaning Myrtle, who showed no remorse and was full of curiosity, his tone unfriendly.
"Occasionally, occasionally."
Moaning Myrtle waved her fingers carelessly, then turned her head to look at Harry, "Aren't you going to take it off? Do you want me... He's waiting for you."
"We're not here for what you're implying!"
Harry shouted angrily, his voice echoing in the vast bathroom.
"Ah, right, right, so are you going to take it off or not?!"
Moaning Myrtle slapped the floor with such force that Harry thought he had barged into the girls' bathroom.
"Close your eyes!"
He struggled for a while and eventually put down the Golden Egg, starting to undress, shouting at Moaning Myrtle.
"Alright, alright..."
Moaning Myrtle nonchalantly covered her eyes with her hands, then continued to peek through her fingers.
Soon, Harry also immersed himself in the pool, exchanging glances with Cedric for a while before the latter spoke slowly, "Put the Golden Egg under the water."
Hearing this, Harry did not hesitate any longer, and slid the Golden Egg under the bubble-filled water surface, opening it along the seams... This time, it no longer shrieked; a song surged from under the water. The song was coming from beneath the surface, and he couldn't quite make out the words.
"Then your head—"
This time, without needing Cedric's prompt, Harry had already taken a deep breath and dove underwater—he sat on the marble at the bottom of the bubble bath, and the blurry song from the Golden Egg finally became words he could understand—
Then, he saw Cedric sitting down as well.
"Seek, seek the place where the sound begins, I cannot sing on the surface, when you start your search, think carefully—I am the most dazzling treasure in the world, follow the song, follow the light, through the obstacles, bring me back to the surface—"
Harry floated up, emerging from the bubble-filled water surface, Cedric following him, both of them shaking their heads in unison to get their hair out of their eyes.
"What did you guys hear?"
Moaning Myrtle asked, gloomily picking at a spot on her chin.
"Treasure that cannot sing on the surface?"
Harry held the Golden Egg, treading water to stay balanced, pondering the meaning of that song, "I must search for things that cannot make sounds on the surface... Alright, what could that be?"
"The Golden Egg only makes sounds underwater, so whatever it is, it can only mean the treasure is possibly in—"
Cedric also nodded as the two looked at each other and then spoke in unison, "Black Lake!"
...
In the evening, Harry returned to the Gryffindor Common Room, sharing his and Cedric's speculation with Hermione and voicing his concerns, "If the treasure is beneath the Black Lake, that means I'll have to swim at the bottom of the lake—Moaning Myrtle said there are singing Merpeople under the Black Lake—but underwater, I can't breathe—"
"Wait, are you sure it's the Black Lake?"
Hermione frowned, interrupting Harry's rambling.
"Of course! Cedric and I both think so—"
Harry nodded instinctively, then paused and asked, "Is there a problem?"
"If it really is the Black Lake, that means your challenge is not just about how to breathe—"
"What else?"
"Harry, don't you remember? The time for the second task is in December."