Umbras ? Harry Potter

December 4, 1994 • Hogwarts

It had been just over two weeks since the first task, and Harry was no closer to solving the mystery of the golden egg. He'd opened it once, right after the task, in the Gryffindor common room—only for it to emit a horrible, banshee-like wail that sent him slamming it shut again almost immediately.

Over the past two weeks, Harry had felt happier than he had in a long time. The school didn't seem to hate him quite as much anymore, and Ron was speaking to him again. Having Ron back at his side felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders—like things were finally starting to feel normal again. It was easier to laugh, to focus, even to breathe, now that his best friend wasn't glaring at him from across the common room.

Another thing Harry had been quiet thrilled about was how much time he and Ciara had been spending together. Since the night of the first task, they'd been almost inseparable. Whenever anyone asked, they insisted they were just friends—maybe they even believed it themselves—but Ron and Hermione weren't so easily convinced.

"So..." Hermione said, turning to Harry as they waited in the Great Hall, "did you and Ciara figure anything out about the egg last night?"

Harry shook his head, eyes dropping to his plate. "No. She said it doesn't seem to have anything to do with a charm, though."

"Talk about anything else?" Ron asked with a sly smirk, just before Harry gave him a light smack on the shoulder.

"No," Harry said, trying to sound casual—but the flush creeping up his cheeks gave him away.

He was saved by a chorus of "Happy birthday!" from the twins, which made everyone turn toward the entrance to see Ciara walking in.

"Happy birthday, Ciara," Ron said, giving her a smile.

"Thanks, Ronald," she replied, returning it with a soft one of her own.

Harry hesitated for half a second, then glanced over at her. "Happy birthday," he said, a bit quieter, but with a warmth in his voice that made Hermione raise an eyebrow.

Ciara turned to him, her smile softening. "Thanks, Harry," she said, and for a moment, the noise of the Great Hall seemed to fade just a little.

They both quickly looked away, snapped back to reality. The moment didn't go unnoticed—not by the two other Gryffindors at the table, and not by the Slytherin watching from a few tables down.

Unfortunately for Ciara, her birthday didn't fall on a Hogsmeade weekend this year—or even on a weekend at all. After finishing their breakfasts, they gathered their things and headed off to Care of Magical Creatures.

"I'm not sure whether they hibernate or not," Hagrid told the shivering class in the windy pumpkin patch. "Thought we'd jus' try an' see if they fancied a kip... we'll jus'settle 'em down in these boxes..."

There were now only ten skrewts left; apparently their desire to kill one another had not been exercised out of them. Each of them was now approaching six feet in length. Their thick gray armor; their powerful, scuttling legs; their fire-blasting ends; their stings and their suckers, combined to make the skrewts the most repulsive things they had ever seen. The class looked dispiritedly at the enormous boxes Hagrid had brought out, all lined with pillows and fluffy blankets.

"We'll jus' lead 'em in here," Hagrid said, "an' put the lids on, and we'll see what happens."

But the skrewts, it transpired, did not hibernate, and did not appreciate being forced into pillow-lined boxes and nailed in. Hagrid was soon yelling, "Don' panic, now, don' panic!" while the skrewts rampaged around the pumpkin patch, now strewn with the smoldering wreckage of the boxes. Most of the class — Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle in the lead — had fled into Hagrid's cabin through the back door and barricaded themselves in; Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ciara, however, were among those who remained outside trying to help Hagrid. Together they managed to restrain and tie up nine of the skrewts, though at the cost of numerous burns and cuts; finally, only one skrewt was left.