0580 Worries

Harry, Ron and Hermione didn’t linger for too long at Hagrid’s hut. Not long after Professor Watson left, they also departed.

The main reason was Hermione. She wanted to make a trip to the hospital wing while there was still time, to ask Madam Pomfrey how someone hit with a Conjunctivitis Curse could recover quickly. Her idea was approved by Harry. However, Ron’s abrupt words dismissed their plan.

“I’m not sure that’s the best idea,” Ron said as they hurried across the grounds towards the castle, just as Hermione was telling Harry about going to the hospital wing. 

Harry and Hermione both turned to stare at him in astonishment by his unexpected disagreement.

“Why not?” Harry asked, unable to keep the surprise from his voice. “You saw how bad off Sirius looked, Ron.”

But Ron simply shrugged his shoulders, and said. “If it was really that serious, don’t you think he’d have asked for help himself? Sirius isn’t exactly the suffer-in-silence type, is he?”

He kicked at a pebble on the path, sending it skittering into the grass.

“And did you notice how Professor Watson barely asked about his injuries? I reckon Sirius is just taking this chance to shirk off work for a few days, get a bit of a rest. Normally, he doesn’t get much vacation time, does he?”

Harry and Hermione exchanged a wide-eyed look, momentarily stunned speechless by the Ron’s unexpected shrewd observation. It was so rare for him to be the voice of reason in their little trio – that was usually Hermione’s role.

But as they thought it over, they couldn’t help but see the logic in his words. Slowly, identical grins spread across their faces, and the tension of the past month seemed to melt away.

Ron fidgeted under the intensity of their gazes and a flush rose on his cheeks. “What’s wrong?” he asked defensively, clearly flustered by their reaction. “If you think —”

But Harry cut him off with a laugh.

“You know, Ron…I think you might be right about that,” Harry said with a chuckle, clapping him on the shoulder. “Sirius could probably do with a bit of a holiday. Let’s let him have this, yeah?”

Hermione’s face also broke into a relieved smile and her eyes sparkled with happiness. She and Harry exchanged a meaningful glance, both feeling the same sense of completeness and rightness now that Ron had rejoined them. The rift that had grown between them over the past month, leaving a hollow ache in their chests, had finally been mended. The small details of who was at fault seemed utterly unimportant compared to the restoration of their friendship.

Their friendship was the most important thing.

For Hermione, Ron’s willingness to reconcile with them brought her joy no less than passing the first trial of the Triwizard Tournament.

The banquet in the Great Hall was still going on. The three of them saw Professor Watson return to the midst of the guests, but they didn’t want to join in at all. So, they quietly went up the stairs from the Entrance Hall.

“Professor Watson just said he wanted to check Freodom’s soul —” Harry said with a frown as they headed for Gryffindor Tower, discussing what had just happened. “What does that mean? Why didn’t he say anything afterwards?”

“Checking the soul —” Ron shuddered. “Sounds a bit evil, doesn’t it?”

Hermione, however, seemed much less worried by the whole matter – if anything, there was a determined glint in her eyes.

“But what should I do with Freodom?”

Speaking of the house-elf, Hermione said heavily,

“It can’t stay at Hagrid’s forever. It needs to be independent and live the life it wants. All house-elves have that right. They can’t continue to be enslaved like this.”

Harry and Ron exchanged a resigned look, wisely choosing to hold their tongues on the matter of house-elf liberation. They had long ago learned that when Hermione got on her soapbox about elf rights, it was best to just let her rant herself out. Trying to argue the point was futile.

But any further discussion on the topic was abruptly cut off as they gave the Fat Lady the password (“Balderdash!”) and climbed through the portrait hole into the common room – only to be immediately assaulted by a wall of noise.

Wild cheers and applause bombarded them from all sides, mixed with the shrill whistling of Filibuster’s Fireworks whizzing overhead. Hermione actually staggered back a step, her eyes turned huge and wide as she took in the scene of absolute chaos before her.

Ron was the first to recover, his face split into a huge grin as he walked over the threshold. “A surprise party!” he shouted delightedly, already reaching back to pull a slightly dazed Hermione up behind him. “I knew there would definitely be one!”

The common room had been transformed into a wonderland of celebration, with ribbons and enchanted confetti raining down from the ceiling. Platters piled high with all manner of sweets and pastries, combined with barrels of butterbeer and pumpkin juice. The tables even squeaked under the weight of them all.

Lee Jordan was the one who set off those Filibuster’s Fireworks, and many stars and sparks flashed in the air.

But it was the banners that really caught the eye – hand-painted by Dean Thomas, they depicted Hermione’s daring feats in the first task in great detail, from her nimble maneuvering across the rocky terrain to her gravity-defying leap and landing neatly beside the dragon’s neck.

For a moment, Hermione could only gawk like a landed fish, her cheeks flushed red as the entirety of Gryffindor House surged forward to engulf her, laughing and hooting and patting her on the back.

“Three cheers for Hermione, the cleverest champion of them all!” Fred roared.

“Hip hip hooray!” the Gryffindors roared in unison, lifting their glasses to toast her.

Hermione felt her cheeks flush as she took in the extravagant display in her honor. “Oh —” she stammered, clearly overwhelmed by the outpouring of support and celebration from her housemates. “Actually, there’s no need to make such a big fuss—”

Hermione babbled out a few more such words of protests, insisting that such a fuss was really not necessary.

“What nonsense are you saying?” Fred said, laughing as he pushed Hermione in front of a pile of cakes and butterbeer.

“You have to finish all these to make it worth the many trips George, Lee and I made to the kitchen. Ah, of course, you can also thank the house-elves in the kitchens. These little fellows have been very busy tonight. They needed to take care of the banquet in the Great Hall, and there’s one in the Hufflepuff common room, and one here for us too. Oh, it’s not out of the question that Beauxbatons and Durmstrang are also celebrating on their own turf!”

“Indeed —”

Hermione’s heart skipped a beat as she thought of Freodom’s mother, the house-elf named Reega.

“But how do I get into the kitchens?”

Hermione asked in a very casual tone.

“It’s very convenient,” Fred said eagerly. “There’s a door in the basement corridor, hidden behind a painting of a bowl of fruit. You just need to tickle the pear lightly and it will giggle, then —”

But he cut himself off abruptly, and eyed Hermione with sudden wariness. “You’re not going to do your previous propaganda to the house-elves in the kitchens, are you? Oh, please don’t do that, you’ll make everyone have nothing to eat!”

Several nearby Gryffindors chuckled at Fred’s half-serious plea, but Hermione didn’t say anything. Harry and Ron took one look at her calm expression and simultaneously let out long-suffering sighs before catching each other’s eyes and breaking into chuckles.

Then the celebration began. When the atmosphere was in high spirits, many people clamored to see the golden egg Hermione had obtained. So, Hermione had to go back to the dormitory for a while and bring the golden egg down. She put the egg on the table and let everyone look at it.

To be honest, Hermione herself hadn’t had a chance to examine it properly so far!

After the competition, she hurried back to the castle, put the golden egg back in the dormitory, and then went down to the common room. She would rather have a good chat with Harry and Ron at that time. Then, not long after, Professor McGonagall informed her to go down to the Great Hall to attend the banquet as a champion representative.

But now, surrounded by her eager housemates, she reached out with a slightly trembling hand to pry open the egg’s gleaming clasp. The whole room seemed to hold its breath…

Only to immediately fill with cries of shock and dismay as the most horrible, ear-splitting screech emitted from within the golden egg, as though a thousand nails were scraping down a thousand chalkboards. Hermione slammed the egg shut at once.

“Well,” said Ron shakily after a moment of stunned silence, “reckon that’s our next clue sorted, then. Apparently, Hermione’s got to defeat the world’s angriest banshee next.”

A ripple of nervous laughter met his words, and the tension was broken. Speculations began to fly about what the mysterious wailing could mean, and what dangers the second task would bring.

People were eager to help Hermione analyze what the horrible screaming from the golden egg represented. However, Hermione covered her ears nervously, unwilling to listen more.

Harry understood. Although Professor Watson had made it clear that in the first trial that had just passed, the challenges Hermione faced were equally real, Hermione obviously couldn’t completely let go of the burden. She probably wanted to completely rely on her own efforts to get the second task done.

The party lasted until very late, and the young wizards only gradually returned to their dormitories.

For nearly a month, the atmosphere in Harry’s dormitory had been a bit unusual, mainly due to the dispute between Harry and Ron. Although no one openly talked about it, everyone knew about it privately.

And today, Seamus, Dean and Neville finally saw Harry and Ron talking shoulder to shoulder again, and they were all very happy and had similar thoughts- thank Merlin those two have patched things up.

The conversation quickly turned to excited recaps of the day’s events, with Ron providing colorful commentary and Harry interjecting the occasional wry observation. Exhaustion soon won out over their enthusiasm, and one by one, the boys dropped fell sleep without even taking off their clothes.

Harry was the same. Although he wasn’t the one competing today, he had gone with his PE classmates to Hogsmeade station early in the morning to meet people, and had been worried about Hermione for most of the day. He was exhausted long ago. He and Neville were the first to close their eyes.

Ron’s sleep was far less peaceful, disrupted by the chainsaw-like snores coming from Neville’s bed. He woke with a startled snort, blinking blearily in the dim light and it took him several minutes of confusion to realize what the situation was. Grumbling under his breath, he got up dizzily holding his head and glanced around the dormitory, grinning at his roommates sleeping in their clothes.

Moving quietly to avoid waking the others, Ron took out spare blankets from the wardrobe and draped them carefully over each boy in turn. As he straightened up from tucking the last one around Harry’s shoulders, to return to his own bed and took off his clothes, a glint of something shiny caught his eye.

There, lying on his cover, was the coin Professor Watson had given him earlier as a gift. Since getting it, he had always kept it with him. It must have just slipped out of his pocket onto the bed.

Ron stared at the coin for a long time, and his sleepiness gradually dissipated.

He looked at Harry, who was already fast asleep. Somehow, he suddenly remembered the scene of him and Harry rushing into the dungeons of Slytherin to rescue Ginny. At that time, he quickly met his doom in the mouth of the basilisk, while Harry fought hard against it, holding on until Hermione brought Professor Watson.

It was actually just over a year ago, but it seemed like it had been a long time.

Ron looked at Neville again.

As the only course Professor Watson taught at Hogwarts, PE had always been a relatively special existence. What happened in the course, others had heard more or less little about it. Ron knew that Neville had been unable to keep up with the course progress recently, which brought him a lot of pressure. But he had never heard Neville say he would give up.

“I brought this on myself,” Ron mumbled bitterly in the gloom. He picked up the coin, ready to stuff it back into his robe. When his fingertips touched the cold metal, he remembered the smile Professor Watson gave him tonight in Hagrid’s hut.

Whoosh —

The cold wind rushed in, and Ron had already run out the door.

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