In the Gryffindor Common Room, the fire of celebration was burning brightly.
The glory of victory swept away the haze of doubt.
Everyone was sharing in this joy.
Harry was surrounded by excited classmates in the center, the heavy Golden Egg being passed around in his hands; everyone wanted to touch this symbol of victory.
George and Fred hoisted Harry up, one on each side.
"Great job, Harry!"
"I knew you wouldn't die."
The twins grinned at Harry.
"At most a broken leg!"
"Or an arm!"
"Taking your life?"
"No way!"
Seamus took the Golden Egg from Harry.
He planted a heavy kiss on it.
"Harry! Open it and look for the clue."
Looking at the eager eyes below him.
Harry also felt a bit proud.
"Do you want me to open it now?"
"Yes!"
Driven by the enthusiastic atmosphere.
Harry took back the Golden Egg and placed his hand on top, about to twist it.
However, the moment Harry picked up the Golden Egg, Lia's Danger Intuition suddenly sent a sharp, intense sting.
That egg was a bit off.
"Harry, don't open it!" Lia's voice was urgent, piercing through the noisy crowd.
But it was too late.
The highly curious Seamus Finnigan had already quickly twisted open the Golden Egg's hinge.
An indescribable noise, sharp enough to pierce eardrums, erupted from the Golden Egg!
A sound like fingernails scratching a blackboard exploded in the common room.
"Aaaaaah—!"
The nearest Gryffindor students screamed, covering their ears and crouching down in pain.
Harry also fell from the twins' shoulders.
Even the portraits on the walls covered their ears in agony.
The clamor of the entire common room came to a screeching halt, leaving only that demonic sound, which could drill into one's bones, raging wildly.
This sound was torture for ordinary Wizards, but for Lia, who possessed Feline hearing, it was hell.
"Aaaaah—!"
A shrill cat's cry burst from deep within Lia's throat, her pupils shrinking into dangerous thin lines.
Hermione was quick, snatching the Golden Egg from Harry's hand and snapping it shut with a "clack."
The world was finally quiet.
The common room was a mess, students pale and gasping for breath with lingering fear.
"merlins beard... what on earth was that?"
Ron rubbed his buzzing ears, looking like he'd just survived a catastrophe.
The fire in the Gryffindor Common Room crackled, but it could no longer reignite the previous fervor.
The piercing shriek seemed to still echo in everyone's eardrums, the celebratory atmosphere completely torn apart, leaving only awkward silence and the gasps of survivors.
The students dispersed in small groups, looking at Harry with eyes mixed with sympathy and a lingering sense of oddity.
Harry sat alone by the fireplace, the Golden Egg tossed casually at his feet like a hot potato.
In the shadows of the corner, Hermione gently massaged Lia's ears.
After massaging for quite a while, her ears—sensitive in every sense of the word—finally recovered.
The pair of soft cat ears now drooped, exuding a sense of grievance.
"The Merperson is singing..." Lia's voice was very soft, "The water is cold, they are tied up, and their most precious things are taken away."
Her Eye of Truth saw visions far beyond the sound itself; those were emotion-filled images, a prophecy.
Hermione's movements paused; she glanced at Harry's back by the fireplace, then at Lia, who was still getting her ears massaged.
"This is his own trial."
Hermione's voice carried a hint of a smile, "Since he brought back this egg, let him worry about it himself."
Especially since the "key" to this trial had hurt her Lia.
"Mm."
Lia nodded gently; what she didn't say was...
She began to smell the scent of death.
Extremely faint, almost undetectable, like a single red bean in a bowl of mung beans.
Drowned in the joy of victory, it even made Lia think it was an illusion.
The disturbance in the common room didn't affect anyone besides Harry.
And for most Hogwarts students, another more exciting event was quickly occupying all their attention—the Yule Ball.
This was a Triwizard Tournament tradition, a grand ball only for students in the fourth year and above.
As soon as the news was announced, the entire Castle fell into a peculiar commotion.
In the corridors, in classrooms, and in common rooms, whispers about dance partners were everywhere.
Boys scratched their heads in frustration, girls gathered in groups, and the air was thick with a mixture of anticipation and tension.
"I can't believe Professor McGonagall actually wants us to learn the waltz!"
Ron complained loudly in the common room, his movements as stiff as a Troll under a Petrificus Totalus.
Harry had no mind to deal with any of this; he was troubled by another, more serious problem—he needed a dance partner.
And Hermione, from the day the news of the ball was announced, had become a bit different.
She no longer spent all day in the library, but would spend more time studying the fashion columns in Witch Weekly, even starting to practice some simple magic in front of the mirror to make her hair smoother.
"Hermione, what are you doing?" Lia tilted her head curiously, watching Hermione curl a lock of hair with her wand.
"Preparing for the ball, Lia," Hermione said without looking back. "Of course we're going."
"We?" Lia's tail flicked gently.
"Of course it's us," Hermione turned around. "You're my dance partner, remember? I told you."
Lia naturally agreed, although she didn't know what to do.
But if Hermione said it, agreeing was the right thing to do.
Looking at the obedient Lia, some strange flame flickered again in Hermione's heart.
She put down her things.
"Come, Lia, I'll teach you how to ballroom dance."
Hermione cleared her throat, her face bearing the seriousness of a teacher.
"You must master the basic etiquette of the ball. Give me your hand."
She held out her hand, looking at Lia with a beaming smile.
Lia obediently placed her hand in Hermione's palm, and following Hermione's instructions, placed her other hand lightly on her shoulder.
"Very good," Hermione nodded with satisfaction, her other hand encircling Lia's slender waist. A soft, fragrant scent instantly surrounded her. She steadied herself and began to explain.
"Listen carefully, it's three steps: one, two, three; one, two, three... Like this, I move forward, you move backward."
Hermione called out the beat while taking the first step.
Lia's body glided backward gracefully under her guidance.
"Yes, just like that!"
Hermione was a bit surprised; she felt like she wasn't guiding, but rather being carried along by Lia's gentle strength.
She picked up the pace.
Forward, backward, spin.
Lia's every step was precise, her skirt swirling in elegant arcs with her movements, and her long, fluffy tail followed the beat without the slightest hesitation.
On the contrary, Hermione herself, distracted by admiring Lia's dancing, suddenly tripped.
Body losing balance, she was about to fall backward.
A soft arm instantly wrapped around her waist, pulling her back steadily.
Lia's deep blue eyes were close at hand, filled with pure confusion: "Hermione, you stepped on your own foot."
Hermione's cheeks flushed crimson instantly.
"I... I know!" she argued stubbornly. "I was just giving you a wrong demonstration! Yes, a wrong demonstration!"
Lia tilted her head, and her cat ears twitched along with it.
She seemed to believe it.
"Again." Hermione stood firm again, took a deep breath, and concentrated.
This time, she didn't get distracted and focused entirely on leading Lia.
However, after dancing for less than a minute, she stopped again, her brow furrowed.
Something was wrong.
She always felt something was off.
"Hermione," Lia's voice sounded softly, "your left foot should open a bit more to the outside, otherwise the next turn will be unstable."
Hermione looked down at her feet.
She adjusted her stance as Lia suggested.
"And your hand," Lia's fingertips tapped lightly on Hermione's shoulder, "here, relax a bit, or it will restrict my movements."
Hermione stiffly relaxed her shoulders.
She looked up at the Cat-girl in front of her who was seriously instructing her, feeling the whole world had become a bit magical.
She, Hermione Granger, the top student of the year, was actually being taught how to dance by Lia, who couldn't even chant a spell properly?
"How do you know these things?" Hermione couldn't help but ask.
"My body just knows." Lia's answer was as blunt as ever.
Of course, she wouldn't tell Hermione that when Hermione said the word "ballroom dancing"...
The memory fragments belonging to Tom Riddle that she had once devoured were activated.
That boy, who came from humble beginnings but held himself in high regard, had received the finest aristocratic education.
equestrianism, Ancient Runes, and... court dancing.
This knowledge was etched into his soul.
Now, it had also become a part of Lia's body.
Hermione stared at Lia for a long time and finally had to accept the fact.
She pinched Lia's ears and sighed, "Alright, you little monster."
She decided to give up teaching and instead enjoy the feeling of being "led" by Lia.
When their dance steps became more synchronized, Hermione could even close her eyes and complete all the complex spins just by the strength of the hand on her waist.
The fire in the dormitory reflected their intertwined figures, as if only the two of them remained in the world.
They didn't even notice when Lavender and Parvati returned.
All they got were their teasing snickers.
"The two of us have been watching you two hugging in the room for quite a while."
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