Chapter 32: Ron Solves the "Clue"
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. IT BELONGS TO JK ROWLING.
A/N: Read, enjoy, and remember not to take either life or my writing too seriously.
Ron Weasley had spent many evenings staring thoughtfully at his chessboard, trying to design strategies worthy of a champion. Eventually he decided a break was needed. He lay back on his bed, gazing fondly at the golden egg resting beside him.
While admiring it, he suddenly remembered something important.
The egg contained a clue.
Two weeks until the second task, he thought proudly. I suppose I've given the other champions enough time to catch up. Time to solve this.
He pulled out the parchment Moody had given him and began quietly reading the lines aloud.
"Come seek us where our voices sound,
we cannot sing above the ground."
Ron nodded wisely.
Just like I told Professor Moody. That clearly means the Prefects' bathroom.
Feeling pleased with himself, he continued reading.
"And while you are searching, ponder this:
we've taken what you'll sorely miss."
Ron frowned.
What did ponder mean again? Drink? No… eat? Wait… think!
He tapped his chin.
Something that someone took… something I'd miss…
"Sorely…" he muttered.
Then inspiration struck.
To soar means flying!
Ron straightened up proudly.
So it's something you'd miss while flying. Obviously a Quaffle! Well… I wouldn't miss it since I'm a Keeper, but other Keepers would.
He grinned.
Someone has stolen a Quaffle and hidden it in the Prefects' bathroom. Easy.
He read the next lines.
"An hour long you'll have to look,
and recover what we took."
Ron scratched his head.
"An hour? The bathroom isn't that big."
Then he shrugged.
"Maybe it's invisible or something."
His imagination immediately ran wild.
Maybe the champions will fight over it. After beating that dragon, the others won't stand a chance.
He paused thoughtfully.
Although if the Veela fights me I'll have to go easy. She is a girl after all.
He looked at the final lines.
"But past an hour — the prospect's black,
too late, it's gone, it won't come back."
Ron blinked.
"Prospect… what's a prospect?"
He thought for a moment.
It mentions black… maybe it's some type of roasted meat at the feast.
His face brightened.
"That's it!"
He jumped up.
"If I take longer than an hour, the feast food burns and gets thrown away!"
Ron proudly concluded:
"So the task is simple. In the Prefects' bathroom I have one hour to find the hidden Quaffle. If I fail, I miss the celebratory dinner."
He leaned back smugly.
"No problem at all."
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