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SEVENTEEN

——THE SECOND TASK

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——THE SECOND TASK




       BLOODY HELL, MAYBE SHE SHOULDN'T HAVE SPENT SO MUCH TIME IN THE ROOM OF REQUIREMENT TRYING TO PRACTICE THE BUBBLE-HEAD CHARM.

       Sneaking down the stairs wasn't easy when someone could just pop up and she could fall to her death. Suddenly, just ahead, there was a thump, then a golden egg fell down the stairs out of nowhere bang as loud as a bass drum on every step—some sort of parchment flew as well near Effie.

       She furrowed her brows, "What the fuck," She muttered, rubbing her eyes. "Bloody hell, am I awake right now?"

       Effie drew close to it, grabbing the parchment hastily and tucked it under her cloak, alarmed at the footsteps now. The golden egg fell through the tapestry at the bottom of the staircase, burst open, and began wailing loudly in the corridor below.

      "PEEVES!" It was the unmistakable hunting cry of Filch the caretaker. Effie could hear his rapid, shuffling footsteps coming nearer and nearer, his wheezy voice raised in fury.

       A big, capital SHIT painted itself in her mind, and acted quickly, making a small flesh wound on her arm with diffindo and smeared the blood around to make it look worst, scurrying down the stairs and laid down, then feigned a loud wail of pain. "Peeves, you little—"

       "What's this racket? Wake up the whole castle, will you? I'll have you, Peeves, I'll have you, you'll. . . and what is this?" He first glanced at Effie— "Ah, student out of bed!"

       "I was in the library," She defends, forcing pain in her voice as she grabbed her arm. "Peeves pushed me down the stairs—" Filch picked up the egg and closed it.

       "Egg?" Filch said quietly at the foot of the stairs. "My sweet—!" Mrs. Norris was obviously with him "—This is a Triwizard clue! This belongs to a school champion!"

       "I am one of the champions, Mr. Filch," Effie said in annoyance. Bloody idiot didn't even try to see if she was okay, she thinks, rolling her eyes and pretended to struggle getting up. "It's mine."

"Filch? What's going on?" Filch stopped and turned. At the foot of the stairs stood the only person who could either help Effie, or not—Snape. He was wearing a long gray nightshirt and he looked livid.

"It's Peeves, Professor," Filch whispered malevolently. "He threw this egg down the stairs and pushed this student."

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