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Chapter 597: Noisy Golden Egg



Chapter 597: Noisy Golden Egg

Lee Jordan had let off some Filibuster’s Fireworks, so that the air was thick with stars and sparks.

Dean Thomas, who was very good at drawing, had put up some impressive new banners, depicting Ron zooming around the Chinese Fireball on the Firebolt, and Avon’s use of the magic barrier to resist the flame and defeat the dragon.

The huge banner in the middle was constantly changing. Above, Evan stood out from the crowd alone and held his wand up. Opposite him was the terrible dragon, baring its fangs and shooting out fire from its mouth.

The next second, the picture changed, and the dragon flew backward like a bug.

Under the banners, all Gryffindors were celebrating, laughing and eating delicious food.

Everyone came over and talked to Evan and Ron, asking for more details, and many thanked Evan.

They had been in the stands, too. If Evan hadn’t saved them, they might have been hit by the fireball.

Ron was no longer so nervous. He’d gotten through the first task, and he wouldn’t have to face the second one for three months.

“Blimey, this is heavy,” said Lee Jordan, picking up the golden egg that was on a table, and weighing it in his hands.

“Of course, I dare say that this must be pure gold!”

“Open it, Ron, go on! Let’s just see what’s inside it!”

“Go on, open it!” Several people echoed.

“Okay!” Ron muttered, also very curious.

He took the golden egg from Lee and dug his fingernails into the groove that ran all the way around it and pried it open.

It was hollow and completely empty. But the moment Ron opened it, the most horrible noise, a loud and screechy wailing, filled the room.

The nearest thing to it they had ever heard was the ghost orchestra at Nearly Headless Nick’s deathday party, who had all been playing the musical saw.

“Shut it!” Fred bellowed, his hands over his ears.

Ron slammed the golden egg shut and gasped.

“What was that?”

“It’s a terrible noise, It’s maybe the thing you need to deal with in the next task.”

“It sounded like a banshee. Maybe you’ve got to get past one of those next, Ron!” said Seamus Finnigan.

“No, it was someone being tortured!” said Neville, who had gone very white and spilled sausage rolls all over the floor. He looked at Ron uneasily. “You … you’re going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!”

“Don’t be a prat, Neville, that’s illegal!” said George. “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.”

“Haha, in a sense, Percy is even more terrible than a dragon.”

This noise was the song of a mermaid. The golden egg needed to be kept underwater before it could be used easily, but Evan did not say it.

After all these wild guesses, Ron put the golden egg away.

He was prepared to solve this puzzle alone as a champion without any help, relying on his own abilities.

After getting through the task of the dragon, Ron did grow a lot.

Whether he would succeed in the end or not, this tournament was proving to be good for him.

“Let’s talk about something else, don’t just sit there. Want a jam tart, Hermione?”

Hermione looked doubtfully at the plate he was offering her. Fred grinned maliciously. 

“It’s all right,” he said. “I haven’t done anything to them. It’s custard creams you’ve got to watch…”

Neville, who had just bitten into a custard cream, choked and spat it out. Fred and George laughed and looked at him.

“Just my little joke, Neville…”

“Speaking of this,” Hermione took a jam tart. “Did you get all of this from the kitchens, Fred?!”

“Yeah,” said Fred, grinning at her. He put on a high-pitched squeak and imitated a house-elf. “’Anything we can get you, sir, anything at all!’ They’re dead helpful… get me a roast ox if I said I was peckish.”

“How do you get in there?” Hermione said in an innocently casual sort of voice.

“It’s easy,” said Fred. “There is a concealed door behind a painting of a bowl of fruit. Just tickle the pear, and it giggles and …” He stopped and looked suspiciously at her.

“Why, why are you asking?”

“Nothing,” said Hermione quickly.

“You’re going to try and lead the house-elves out on strike now; are you?” said George. “You’re going to give up all the leaflet stuff and try and stir them up into a rebellion?”

Several people chortled. Hermione didn’t answer.

Evan knew her too well; Hermione obviously intended to do so.

“Don’t you go upsetting them and telling them they’ve got to take clothes and salaries!” said Fred warningly, giving Evan a gentle kick from under the table. “You’ll put them off their cooking!”

Regarding the fight for the rights of the house-elves, Evan also could not persuade Hermione to give up. Moreover, he had made it clear that he would support her, although he had actually done nothing.

Just then, Neville caused a slight diversion by turning into a large canary.

“Oh … sorry, Neville!” Fred, ignoring Hermione, hurriedly jumped up and shouted over all the laughter. “I forgot … it was the custard creams we hexed!” 

Within a minute, however, Neville had molted, and once his feathers had fallen off, he returned to looking entirely normal.

He even joined in laughing and thought that this hexed custard cream was very interesting.

George explained to Evan that he and Fred had been experimenting since the summer vacation and had been making continuous improvements. The finished products they had now brought out were further more interesting than the deforming candy that made Dudley grow a pig’s tail.

“Come on, Canary Creams!” Fred shouted to the excitable crowd. “Our latest product, George and I invented them … seven Sickles each, a bargain. We start booking now!”

Interested young wizards ordered from him; Weasley’s jokes were now very popular. When new products appeared, they were often in short supply. Many people even bought them to resell them to students from other Houses.

Some time ago, Fred and George even discussed promoting them among Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students with Evan, to open up foreign markets, and they did not know if it would work or what the best way to go about it was.

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