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"She'll definitely be the first one to fall flat on her face." Even before the contest had properly begun, Ron was already chewing noisily on a chicken pasty he had snuck from the kitchens, speaking with his mouth half-full as he made his gloomy prediction. "Hermione can't even ride a broomstick straight, let alone — Merlin's socks!"
His exclamation came so abruptly that Harry snapped his head around to follow Ron's wide-eyed stare. At the very moment the spell flung her forward onto the ice, Hermione's wand was already slashing swiftly through the air.
She lifted herself with a nimble grace, almost like a bird catching a sudden breeze, her robe flaring about her as she landed steadily on the frozen surface. All around her, five or six students had already tumbled into a sprawling heap.
"Levitation Charm!" Harry gasped, jabbing Ron in the arm with astonishment. "She cast the spell on the soles of her shoes!"
Ron froze mid-bite, the pasty dangling foolishly from his lips. "You mean she actually planned it all out beforehand?"
Harry jabbed his finger toward the rink. "Look! She's about to head straight into the mist!"
Inside the fog, the other competitors were stumbling about like headless flies, crashing blindly into one another. Hermione, however, suddenly crouched low. With a quick flick of her wand, a sharp burst of light shot forward. The ice ahead shone smooth and glassy, polished to a flawless mirror-like gleam.
"She can't possibly be thinking—"
Ron's words were cut off as Hermione dropped her weight and slid forward, body nearly flush with the ground. Her chestnut curls brushed against the frosted surface, sparks of frost scattering as she shot beneath the fog through a narrow gap with a sharp whoosh.
The crowd erupted instantly into cheers and applause.
"Merlin's beard!" Ron sucked in a sharp breath. "I think I've seen that move in a Quidditch match!"
But the course allowed her no moment to rest. The mist thinned away, revealing a sudden fork ahead.
To the left stretched a straight passage strewn with "Tripping Ice Humps," each one ready to send the unwary sprawling. To the right gaped a wide crevasse, bridged only by a single narrow "Swaying Ice Bridge."
A Slytherin boy was already scrambling recklessly toward that fragile span. Hermione did not hesitate even for a heartbeat. She snapped her wand toward the rim of the rift and called, "Ice Bridge, form!"
In an instant, a fresh bridge of solid ice thrust itself upward from her side.
She never waited for it to fully settle or freeze firm. Gathering the speed of her glide, she sprang lightly into the air, landed squarely at its center, and slid across in one smooth motion.
Meanwhile, behind her, the Slytherin's bridge shuddered violently. He lost his footing and toppled with a pitiful splash into the chasm below, drawing a wave of raucous laughter from the onlookers.
"Watch out!" Harry suddenly clutched Ron's shoulder hard. Someone's trying to hex her!"
They both caught sight of a Ravenclaw boy, wand half-hidden by his sleeve, aiming furtively at the patch of ice directly before Hermione.
Even before Harry's warning had fully left his lips, Hermione reacted as though she had eyes in the back of her head. Her wand snapped back with lightning speed, a counter-curse flashing across the rink before the boy could finish his spell. His feet shot out from under him, and with a yelp he tumbled headlong into a drift of snow.
"Brilliant!" Ron shouted, slamming his fist against the railing in sheer excitement. He had forgotten all about the pasty clutched in his hand. "Since when could she pull that off?"
Harry grinned, eyes bright with pride. "She hasn't been resting these last few days. She's been practicing every chance she gets."
The most breathtaking trial, however, was yet to come: the "Slippery Trap" right before the finish line.
Other competitors were flailing helplessly, twisting and spinning as though caught in some cruel dance. Hermione, by contrast, conjured a line of small icy ridges in her path. With sharp, agile movements, she darted left and right across them, each slope lending her more momentum until her speed became almost frightening.
"She's using the obstacles to accelerate!" Harry shot to his feet, his voice rising with both awe and alarm. "No, wait… she's going too fast!"
"Slow down, Hermione!" Ron bellowed, panic lacing his cry.
Hermione was hurtling toward the boundary at a breakneck pace. The edge of the course loomed, and for an instant it seemed inevitable that she would smash straight into it.
At the very nick of time, her wand blazed with dazzling spell light. The smooth ice ahead warped and curved in an instant, reshaping into a spiraling track like a miniature rollercoaster carved out of frost.
Without hesitation, Hermione leapt onto it. Her body shot forward, spinning through two tight spirals. The track devoured her speed, bleeding away her dangerous momentum in a masterful display of control. Then, with perfect timing, her wand lit once more.
"Skid to a halt! Impedimenta!"
A piercing screech of friction rang across the rink as showers of ice shavings burst outward. Hermione's boots carved two long, clean scars across the frozen surface before she came to a perfect stop, steady and unshaken, with only an inch of ice to spare from the boundary line.
The hem of her robe whipped high into the air with the force of her sudden halt, then slowly settled around her ankles.
The entire lakefront fell into utter silence.
With the same composure as if she had been strolling through the library, Hermione raised her wand, pointed lightly at her robes, and spoke with calm precision. "Scourgify Charm."
Every last shard of ice and flake of frost vanished in an instant.
The spell had barely faded when the crowd erupted. Thunderous cheers broke out from every corner, waves of applause crashing together as students clapped their hands raw with excitement. The lakeshore roared with triumph at the spectacle they had just witnessed.
"Since when did Hermione become so… so…"
"Cool?"
"Yes! That's it… cool!"
"Flawless execution! Textbook level!"
Kestrel swooped down in a sharp dive and landed proudly in front of Hermione. She gave a sweeping flap of her wings, then thumped Hermione's shoulder with firm approval, her beady eyes shining with open admiration.
"That was splendid, Miss Granger! Exceptionally done! First place! Twenty points to Gryffindor!"
Once again, the Gryffindor crowd erupted into cheers so loud they drowned out every other sound. Yet in the midst of their jubilation, Hermione herself looked suddenly flustered and self-conscious. Ducking her head, she quickly gathered the pile of books she had dropped earlier into her arms, and, seizing the cover of the commotion, slipped quietly through the throng before anyone could call her back.
"Hey! The champion's making a run for it!" Seamus shouted, pointing toward her retreating figure.
Harry and Ron exchanged a look, grins tugging at their mouths, and without a word they bolted after her.
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By the time the contest came to an end, the hospital wing was already crowded with young witches and wizards sporting scrapes and bruises. When yet another group of laughing, chattering students pushed open the doors, Madam Pomfrey's hand, still holding a potion vial, trembled ever so slightly.
At the sight of these injured children chatting merrily among themselves, an ominous premonition stirred in her heart.
"Let me guess… Professor Lumina's Defence Against the Dark Arts class again?"
The students nodded at once simultaneously.
Madam Pomfrey sighed heavily. With a sharp flick of her wand, a neat row of small glass bottles filled with violet potion floated gracefully down from the shelves, settling themselves in perfect order on her desk.
Several seventh-year volunteers on duty hurried over and began distributing the medicine with practiced ease.
"This time it was the ice course, Madam," said a Gryffindor boy whose hair was still dusted with snow, his cheeks flushed pink from the cold. "Much better than last time's tunnel warfare. At least this one doesn't leave you caked in mud."
Madam Pomfrey gave a pointed snort through her nose and turned to Orris, who was busy sorting fresh bandages. "Would you be so kind as to fetch more dittany from the storeroom? And while you are there, pass along a message to Professor Dumbledore. If, by some misfortune, next month's budget happens to run over—" She broke off, her eyes narrowing in warning. "He knows perfectly well who will be held responsible."
Ever since Professor Lumina had set foot in Hogwarts, Madam Pomfrey had been dragged into extra shifts again and again, left to patch up the chaos left behind by those so-called "lessons." If not for the handful of older students who volunteered in the infirmary, she would scarcely have managed to draw breath.
Meanwhile, in one of the draughty corridors of the castle, Hermione hurried along with her books pressed tightly against her chest. She had almost reached the quiet stretch leading toward the library when Harry and Ron finally caught up to her.
"Why're you running?" Ron panted as he cut in front of her, blocking her path. "You're the champion! They're already shouting about throwing a little celebration for you in the common room!"
Hermione hugged her books even tighter, her ears turning pink. "That's far too much… it was only a temporary track test, nothing more."
"Too much?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "You conjured a spiral rollercoaster out of solid ice just now. No one else even came close to matching you!"
"It wasn't nearly as amazing as you're making it sound," Hermione muttered as she kept walking. "I only remembered a bit of basic skating from the Muggle rink I used to visit when I was little, that's all."
"Honestly," Ron said, leaning closer with genuine awe lighting up his freckled face, "I think you could make it onto the school Quidditch team now!"
Hermione immediately shook her head, her curls bouncing with every sharp movement. "That's completely different! Today I had already studied the layout of the course and worked out a plan in advance. Quidditch demands constant quick thinking in the middle of the match, dodging Bludgers and rival players crashing into you. And besides…"
She hesitated, her voice softening with a faint trace of embarrassment. "You both know my… my broom-handling has never been very good."
"Fair enough." Ron gave a shrug, though his eyes suddenly lit up as something else struck him. "But speaking of flying… did either of you notice just now? Professor Lumina took off without even using a broom! She just shot straight into the air with a whoosh!"
"It looked almost exactly like the magic Professor Greengrass once used!" Hermione exclaimed.
"Uh, Professor Greengrass? What magic are you talking about?" Ron asked, frowning.
"The spell he used the very first time he appeared in the Forbidden Forest last year," Hermione replied, her tone growing certain and precise. "The shadowy form might have looked a little different, but the underlying principle was absolutely the same."
"And what's that supposed to mean?" Ron asked again, looking utterly bewildered.
"It means they probably knew each other beforehand," Hermione declared with absolute conviction. "That would explain why Professor Lumina asked Professor Greengrass to help freeze the lake… and why he actually agreed."
"Now that you mention it…" Ron rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It really does make sense. And it explains why Mr. Noctis is so familiar with her, too."
"You think we'll ever get the chance to learn that spell ourselves?" Harry suddenly asked, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of wonder and longing. "I've never experienced flying without a broom. It must feel incredible."
"Oh, really?" Ron broke into a grin and jabbed Harry hard with his elbow. "Funny, because I seem to remember you falling fifty feet off your broom during a Quidditch match once. I'd say that was pretty close to the same thing."
Harry burst out laughing in spite of himself, unable to resist the jab. "Shut it, Ron! That feeling was awful! I'm talking about controlled flying!"
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[Chapter End's]
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