𝐊𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍 | 𝘍𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘞𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘺

Chapter 72 - Dancing Baboons

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Of him, the harpers sadly sing.

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The Gryffindor Common Room exploded with cheers and yells when Harry Potter entered it with Hermione and Ron.

There were mountains of cakes and flagons of pumpkin juice and butterbeer on every surface; Lee had let off some Filibuster's Fireworks so that the air was heavy with stars and sparks; and Dean Thomas, who was very good at drawing, had put up some impressive new banners, most of which depicted Potter zooming around the Horntail's head on his Firebolt, though a couple showed Cedric with his head on fire.

Betelgeuse unhurriedly nursed her glass of Ogden's Old Firewhisky as she observed the twins hoist the scarred boy on their shoulders.

"Knew you wouldn't die, Harry!" Fred shouted. "Lose a leg —"

"— or an arm," George piped in.

"Pack it in altogether?"

"Never!" They hollered.

The sharp grey eyes of the Heir of House Black shifted to a golden round object that Lee was struggling to lift.

"Blimey, this is heavy," he commented, picking up the golden egg and weighing it in his hands. "Open it, Harry, go on! Let's just see what's inside it!"

"He's supposed to work out the clue on his own," Hermione said swiftly. "It's in the tournament rules —"

"Yeah, go on, Harry, open it!" Several people echoed.

Betelgeuse smirked, seeing as Lee passed Harry the egg in a hurry, going to his tiptoes, trying to reach the twins' height.

"Who wants me to open it?" The boy asked out loud, hearing the crowd cheer and holler. "Do you want me to open it?"

A chorus of affirmative answers spurred Harry in action. He dug his fingernails into the groove that ran all the way around it and prised it open. But the moment Harry opened it, the most horrible noise, a loud and screechy wailing, filled the room.

Betelgeuse grimaced, attempting to cover her ears from the cacophonic noise.

"Shut it!" Fred bellowed with his hands over his ears.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Ron cried out, staring at the egg as Harry slammed it shut again.

"It was someone being tortured!" Neville exclaimed. He had gone very white and spilt sausage rolls all over the floor. "You're going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!"

"Don't be a prat, Neville, that's illegal," George commented, shaking his head. "They wouldn't use the Cruciatus Curse on the champions. I thought it sounded a bit like Percy singing — maybe you've got to attack him while he's in the shower, Harry."

Betelgeuse nearly choked on her Firewhisky.

"Want a jam tart, Hermione?" Fred casually inquired, ignoring the Black's near-death. Betelgeuse sent him a chilling glare.

Fred's only reply was a boyish smirk.

Hermione peered doubtfully at the plate he was offering her. Fred grinned. "It's all right," he reassured. "I haven't done anything to them. It's the custard creams you've got to watch —"