Seventh Horcrux

Harry Potter vs. Alastor Moody (Pt. 3)

It was breakfast time, but Hermione wasn't eating. She held my golden egg in her hands, staring down at it with pinched lips. "I can't believe you're just ignoring this. I mean, really, Harry, this is a very dangerous competition. You can't just throw away opportunities to prepare yourself."

"I don't need the help, and I've always despised riddles," I said.

"It probably isn't even that hard!" Hermione cried. "I could solve it for you, and Viktor's already figured it out. I could ask him -"

"No, Hermione. That would be cheating."

"You cheat all the time," Hermione said.

"That's true," I admitted. "But I cheat in ways that require skill and dedication. Asking a competitor is just pathetic."

"It's not like he's a Slytherin or anything." Ron glared at the green table, as he often does.

I could tell that Hermione hadn't entirely given up by the way she frowned down at the egg, not even noticing when Ron stole her biscuit. She absentmindedly paid an owl for the day's Prophet, and the owl stole Ron's newly-acquired biscuit. Ron was shouting at it when one of our classmates - Lavender Brown - leaned over.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news," the blonde crooned in a way that said quite the opposite, "but you might want to read that paper."

Startled, Hermione opened it and let out an indignant squawk. "What is wrong with that Skeeter woman?!"

"What did she do?" Ron asked.

"She wrote about me, and she's talking like I'm some sort of" - Hermione wrinkled her nose - "seductress."

She cleared her throat, quoting, "The rather plain girl has been working her way through Hogwarts' most eligible bachelors. First, she led on likely Triwizard Tournament winner Harry Potter. Then, she had an infamous tryst with Draco Malfoy" - Ron choked on his mouthful of food - "Now, she's moved on to seventeen-year-old Bulgarian National Quidditch Team seeker, Viktor Krum. With two Triwizard competitors under Miss Granger's thumb, this reporter has to ask: Could a certain veela be the next champion charmed?"

"That...that..." Hermione's fingers were white as she clutched the golden egg. "I won't let her get away with this."

With a fervent gleam in her eye, Hermione stormed from the hall, not even noticing that she still held my prize from the First Task. I almost felt sorry for Skeeter. She had no idea who she'd trifled with when she'd revealed Hermione's latest scheme.

"You alright, mate?" Ron asked, nervously peering into the black depths of the lake as we waited for the Second Task to begin.

"Absolutely fine," I declared.

"You can be, um, underwater? Without dying?"

"I'm Harry Potter," I said flatly, "and you're starting to sound like Hermione."

Ron shuddered at the comparison. "Right. Sorry, mate. It's just that I've heard drowning really sucks, and Hermione is...wherever she is."

Hermione had disappeared, no doubt busy plotting against her newest enemy. There hadn't been time to find a substitute, so it seemed that Ron was attempting to fulfill both roles. This would have been admirable if he wasn't failing so spectacularly.

I surveyed the area. Spectators milled about the lake, sometimes poking a foot in only to hastily withdraw it once they felt the frigid water. The Weasley children had consumed a large portion of the stands, as per usual, and Ron headed towards them.

Moody was stalking about, glaring at everyone who looked slightly suspicious. This list included Karkaroff, Severus, and me. Draco Malfoy practically fell into the lake in an attempt avoid him. The boy had been suprisingly timid since his return from Christmas break. Clearly, his confidence was shaken by Hermione's rejection.