The clamor of the ball still echoed in their ears, but the shadow of the second task had already descended.
When Dumbledore announced that the champions had to rescue their 'most cherished treasures' from the bottom of the Black Lake within an hour, a roar of excitement and confusion erupted in the Great Hall.
An ominous premonition hung over everyone.
And when the hostages were revealed—Ron for Harry, Fleur's sister Gabrielle for Fleur, and a Durmstrang girl for Krum—the suspicions were confirmed.
The February wind whipped against their faces, carrying a bone-chilling cold.
High stands had already been erected by the Black Lake, and students wore thick cloaks and scarves, their white breath scattering in the air.
Lia pulled at the thick scarf Hermione had tied for her, burying half her face in it.
The air was a mix of too many scents: damp moisture, the fishy smell of mud...
...and the emotional scents of thousands of students—excitement, tension, and fear intertwined—making her wrinkle her nose in discomfort.
She still forced herself to capture that faint, elusive clue from this chaotic'sea of scents.'
That aura of death had truly changed.
It was no longer a thin thread, faintly tethered to Harry.
It had become a net, a giant web covering the entire competition grounds, enveloping everyone.
'It wants to drag everyone down,' Lia murmured to herself.
Beside her, Hermione failed to notice these subtle sensations, her gaze fixed on the grand event below.
Harry stood there, looking particularly small and thin.
'What method will he use?' Hermione wondered, a bit puzzled. 'The Bubble-Head Charm? He hasn't practiced it enough.'
'Merlin's sake, he wouldn't just try to hold his breath and dive down, would he?'
The horn for the start of the race sounded.
Cedric and Krum immediately jumped into the water, with Fleur following close behind.
Only Harry was still hesitating on the shore.
A murmur of discussion rose from the stands.
Just as Hermione was almost unable to stop herself from rushing down, Harry suddenly pulled a slimy, grayish-green clump out of his pocket that looked like a soggy dead rat's tail.
He stuffed it into his mouth.
Lia could smell it from a distance.
The scent of magical herbs, with a strong oceanic fishiness and the bitterness of plant roots.
It was strange, but full of startling vitality.
'gillyweed,' Lia said softly.
'What?' Hermione didn't hear clearly.
'He used gillyweed,' Lia repeated, her sense of smell telling her that the item's magic was taking effect inside Harry's body. 'A very risky method, but it works.'
As soon as she finished speaking, Harry clutched his neck and fell to the ground, twitching violently.
But soon, several slits opened on both sides of Harry's neck—gills. Webbing also grew between his hands and feet.
He leaped up and plunged into the icy lake water.
The long wait began.
Time ticked away, and the lake's surface remained calm and without ripples.
Hermione did not waste this precious time.
Under the cover of her wide robes, her hand quietly slid down.
Her fingertips quickly found that fluffy long tail emitting a familiar warmth.
Lia thought Hermione just wanted to keep warm.
She obediently moved closer to her, submissively delivering the soft tail into her hands.
Little did she know that walking into the trap herself made things easier for Hermione.
'Wu...!'
A suppressed whimper leaked out from under Lia's scarf.
Lia's eyes widened in shock as she looked at Hermione, only to see Hermione wearing a playful, mischievous smirk.
Lia protested in a low voice, 'Hermione... didn't you say... outside...'
'Eee—!'
Before she could finish, she was interrupted by Hermione's movements.
A fingernail traced very lightly and slowly all the way down from the base of the tail.
Hermione acted just like the others in the stands, leaning together in small groups for warmth.
Pressing close to Lia, she leaned into Lia's slightly burning cat ears.
'Shh... you wouldn't want others to see you like this, would you?'
Lia's legs went weak, and she could barely stand, her body instinctively leaning against Hermione for support.
The mist in her eyes only fueled Hermione's desire to tease her further.
She had no choice but to hide her burning cheeks in her scarf, allowing Hermione's mischievous intentions to knead and pinch her, sometimes lightly and sometimes firmly, under the cover of the robes.
Her body could only tremble subtly and helplessly in shame.
Everyone was focused on the occasional bubbles rising from the Black Lake.
Not a single person noticed the one in the corner of the stands, hidden under her robes...
...whose body was shaking violently, desperately suppressing the whimpers in her throat.
Over half an hour later, this private, ambiguous 'torture' between them was broken by a sudden commotion from the lake's surface.
The surface suddenly broke; it was Fleur.
She had been entangled by seaweed and failed; she was brought up by Merpeople. As soon as she reached the shore, she broke down crying, screaming her sister's name in French.
Another ten minutes passed, and Krum also surfaced. He had an incomplete shark head over his own, looking quite bedraggled.
He had rescued his companion.
Only a few minutes remained.
'Harry...' Hermione's voice was trembling.
Lia didn't speak, calming her heavy breathing and her violently beating heart.
She just stared intently at the lake, forcing herself to ignore the rich scents she was producing, her nose twitching constantly in the air.
The scents under the water were chaotic: the scent of Merpeople, the scent of Grindylows, and Harry's scent.
His scent hadn't weakened.
He was still okay.
At the very last moment before the judges were about to declare the competition over, the surface of the lake burst open with a'splash.'
It was Harry!
He was not only dragging Ron, but his other hand was also pulling a little girl with silver hair.
It was Gabrielle!
The crowd erupted into thunderous cheers.
Ron and Gabrielle were wrapped in blankets by Madam Pomfrey and given hot drinks to swallow.
Harry was pulled aside by Dumbledore.
Once everyone was ashore, Dumbledore used his wand to amplify his voice.
'The winner is Mr. Diggory!' he announced loudly. 'He completed the task within the time limit using a skillful Bubble-Head Charm!'
The Hogwarts students cheered.
'However,' Dumbledore's voice rang out again, drowning out the cheers, 'the panel of judges has unanimously agreed that although Mr. Potter was the third to complete the task, he was delayed because he insisted on saving all the hostages.'
'Such noble character deserves reward. Therefore, we have decided that Mr. Potter is in second place!'
The Gryffindor stands went completely wild.
Listening to the excitement in the crowd, Malfoy on the Slytherin stands felt a wave of annoyance.
Potter was always like this, always managing to steal the spotlight with some stupid 'noble' act.
He curled his lip, lost interest in watching further, and turned to squeeze through the crowd to leave.
His father's letter was still in his pocket.
The content of the letter was brief, but the information it contained was massive.
The House of Malfoy was making a move; before that, he had to stay away from Harry Potter, as far away as possible.
Malfoy quickened his pace.
Supported by Hermione, Lia walked awkwardly toward the Castle with the dispersing crowd.
Hermione was satisfied and pleased, but Lia seemed a bit distracted, her legs still feeling weak.
The tip of her tail still held the tingling afterglow of being lightly rubbed by Hermione, making her walk somewhat uncomfortably.
A decaying scent, a mix of false lies and aged fear, settled not far away like invisible sludge.
She stopped in her tracks.
'What's wrong, Lia?' Hermione stopped as well.
Lia didn't answer; her gaze passed through the gaps in the crowd and landed on a large tree at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
A peg-legged, one-eyed man was standing there, his crazily spinning magical eye locked onto two people not far away.
It was Moody.
He was observing Harry and Barty Crouch, who were talking.
That false scent was precisely what was emanating from Moody.
It was even stronger than what she had smelled in the office before, and it was laced with a panic that was becoming hard to suppress.
Lia tugged at Hermione's arm.
'I want to go see his lies.'
Hermione followed her gaze and noticed the scene over there as well.
Mr. Crouch looked very wrong; his clothes were a bit disheveled, and his expression carried a nervous excitement.
And Moody... he was hiding behind the tree.
Hermione immediately understood what Lia meant.
The two exchanged a look and tacitly left the crowd, quietly approaching the large tree.
They hid behind a dense thicket of bushes.
They were just in time to hear Barty Crouch still praising Harry.
'Your parents would be proud of you, Harry.'
Just then, Moody leaned on his staff and limped out from behind the tree.
'Barty,' his gruff voice interrupted Crouch.
Harry looked relieved, seemingly glad to see a familiar Professor.
Moody bared his teeth in a twisted smile, his magical eye spinning wildly as he stared at Crouch.
'You aren't trying to lure our poor Potter into an internship at the Ministry over the summer, are you?'
His words sounded like a joke, but Lia smelled the heavy malice within them.
'I should remind you,' Moody continued, his speech slow and clear, 'the last student who went to intern at the Department of Mysteries... well, they never came back.'
He finished, watching Crouch's reaction with great interest.
The expression on Crouch's face vanished completely.
He didn't bother with Moody's provocation; instead, he stepped forward with a grim face, almost pressing himself into Moody's presence.
Frowning, he carefully scrutinized Moody's scarred face, inch by inch.
Moody's smile vanished instantly.
He froze, his expression becoming somewhat tense.
Behind the bushes, Hermione held her breath.
She felt the atmosphere was wrong.
Very wrong.
Just when Hermione thought Crouch would say something startling, he said nothing at all.
He simply withdrew his scrutiny and brushed past Moody, walking alone toward the depths of the Forbidden Forest with a thoughtful, dazed expression.
Moody stood in place, his back to them.
He muttered to Harry, feigning composure, 'People say I'm mad, see?'
But his slightly twitching face and his involuntarily trembling eyelid all spoke of his inner panic.
He quickly pulled that small hip flask from his coat and tilted his head back to take a large gulp.
Then, without saying another word to Harry, he leaned on his staff and left quickly, as if fleeing the scene.
Harry stood there confused, watching the two adults and their bizarre behavior.
Behind the bushes, Hermione was also completely baffled.
'What did that mean?' she asked in a hushed voice. 'Why did Mr. Crouch react like that? And why did Professor Moody...'
Before she could finish, Lia tugged at her sleeve and interrupted her.
'Let's talk about it when we get back,' Lia sighed. 'Right now, I need to go back to the dormitory first.'
Hermione was puzzled: 'But there's still...'
Before she could finish, Lia shot her a glare.
Feeling the gradually cooling sensation under her robes...
Lia suppressed the heat on her face and said in a fit of embarrassed rage:
'I need to go back and change my clothes!'
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