213 Solving the Clue on the First Day

Oleandra looked at the bathroom stalls briefly before dismissing the idea; toilets didn't hold enough water for what she had in mind, and she also didn't want to get the egg dirty. Instead, she headed for the ornate clawfoot bathtubs that had been installed in the late eighteenth century to go along with the (at the time) brand-new plumbing, and turned on the tap.

"Here, allow me," said a sixth year girl. "Aguamenti."

In no time at all, the bathtub was filled with clear water, though Oleandra could already see imaginary question marks appearing above everyone's heads. If this didn't work, then she was going to look very silly.

"What's going on in there?" Draco called from outside the girl's bathroom.

The dormitories were enchanted in such a fashion that boys would not be able to enter the girl's quarters, which included the bathroom. But for some reason, the same protection didn't apply to the castle's other bathrooms, outside of the common rooms. For some reason!

Oleandra didn't answer him, instead gently lowering the golden egg into the bathtub to avoid splashing the others who had gathered around to watch. Her slender fingers catching in the grooves, Oleandra gave a tug, and the egg came apart in three parts. The mechanism worked sort of like a Xenomorph's egg, or perhaps a more apt comparison would be like a Terry's chocolate orange.

Surprisingly, it turned out that the egg was entirely hollow; the egg itself had been the one to emit the ear-piercing shriek. And it also turned out that Oleandra's theory was correct. Upon opening it, a choir of melodious voices began singing, though the individual words couldn't be made out.

"Hang on," said Oleandra. "I'll make it so we can all hear. Laukaz!"

With the influence of the Lake rune turning the rest of the bathroom into a pseudo-extension of the bathtub/lake, the distinction between water and air became muddled, and the indistinct voices became clear:

"Come seek us where our voices sound,

We cannot sing above the ground,

And while you're searching, ponder this:

We've taken what you'll sorely miss,

An hour long you'll have to look,

And to recover what we took,

But past an hour— the prospect's black

Too late, it's gone, it won't come back."

No wonder the rhythm of the screaming had felt familiar to her! There lived a tribe of Merpeople in the Black Lake, and they especially liked to sing. One could often hear their songs through the walls in the Slytherin common room; the haunting melodies often got stuck in Oleandra's and the others' heads.

"Merlin's beard," said a seventh year, impressed. "I should've known!"

Once the mermaids had finished their song, it looped back again to the beginning.

"Good thinking, Sis!" said Daphne. "Let's write it all down, so that we can analyse the lyrics at our leisure."

Oleandra pulled out a sheet of parchment and a Muggle fountain pen from her pouch.

"Let's see," she said, writing down the first two lines. "Come seek us where our voices sound, we cannot sing above the ground."

"That's obviously the Black Lake," said Tracey. "And the Merpeople who live in it."

"And while you're searching, ponder this," Oleandra wrote, "we've taken what you'll sorely miss."

"Haven't a clue about this one," said Tracey. "Maybe they'll take that pouch of yours?"

"There's no way to know until they actually take something," said Daphne, frowning slightly.

"Let's move on, then," Oleandra suggested. "The rest is pretty clear, though. I've got a time limit of an hour— beyond that, I'll lose whatever it is they took forever."

"That rules out a person, then," Daphne mused. "It has to be one of your belongings."

"Professor Dumbledore wouldn't kill one of us off just for failing a task," said Tracey with a small laugh.

"I certainly hope not," muttered Oleandra.

And with that, they all exited the bathroom to tell the boys what had just transpired.

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The second task would take place in late February— this meant that Oleandra had about three months to work out how to survive underwater for an hour; but she wasn't worried about that. Somehow, she felt that everything would work out all right in the end.

Instead, she decided to take it easy for at least until Christmas; she would work out the specifics later. Hadn't the first task stressed her out enough already? She was owed some relaxation time, wasn't she? She had already figured out the clue and everything, after all. Besides, it was beginning to get really cold outside, even a few days into the month of December.

Regular classes were enough of a chore as it was even without being a champion. For example, Professor Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures class: Oleandra was fairly certain that they had gone far off the beaten path compared to the usual curriculum, since the world had never before seen the unnatural scourge that was Blast-Ended Skrewts. And yet, they were still forced to deal with the abominations.

Just as nature had intended, the Skrewts were heading straight towards extinction. Daily walks had done nothing to curb their intense hatred for each other, and they had continued fighting amongst themselves until only ten were left.

But just like with Chinese Gu ritual magic, in which one placed various poisonous creatures in a sealed environment in a bid to have them devour each other to produce the strongest toxin, so had the Skrewts eliminated the weakest amongst themselves. The remaining Skrewts were more powerful than ever before; bigger, sturdier, meaner and most of all, explode-ier.

"I'm not sure whether they hibernate or not," Professor Hagrid told the class one fine December day. "Thought we'd jus' try an' see if they fancied a kip… We'll jus' settle 'em down in these boxes…"

Professor Hagrid should have known better than to think that a cross between Fire Crabs, who usually lived on tropical volcanic islands, and one very horny Manticore, who originated from the Middle East, would need to hibernate. And it turned out that Skrewts, just like their parents, did not need to hibernate. And neither did they appreciate being forced into tight enclosures, much like most living beings…