𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐒 | HPau

─ ¹⁶. I'LL CALL OBI-WAN!

"Blimey, this is heavy," said Lee Jordan, picking up the golden egg, which Harry had left on a table, and weighing it in his hands. "Open it, Harry, go on! Let's just see what's inside it!"

"I wouldn't open it. . . ." Hermione said, jumping out of the table and hiding behind the first person she saw, covering her ears.

"Watchyou doin', Mimi?" Fred—the person—asked as he turned around, amused by the girl's antics, but was drowned out by people around them, all urging Harry to open the blasted thing.

"Yeah, go on, Harry, open it!" several people echoed.

Lee passed Harry the egg, and Harry dug his fingernails into the groove that ran all the way around it and prised it open.

It was hollow and completely empty—but the moment Harry opened it, the most horrible noise, a loud and screechy wailing, filled the room. Even with her hands over her ears, Hermione could feel her brain about to explode, so she promptly buried her face in Fred's chest—who was conveniently still turned towards her—trying to cut out the shrieking.

"Shut it!" Fred bellowed one hand over his ear and the other on Hermione's back.

"What was that?" said Seamus Finnigan, staring at the egg as Harry slammed it shut again. "Sounded like a banshee. . . . Maybe you've got to get past one of those next, Harry!"

"It was someone being tortured!" said Neville, who had gone very white and spilled sausage rolls all over the floor. "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, Harry."

"Want to let go, Hermione?" said Fred looking down at the curly-haired witch that was still holding on to him.

"Did the shrieking stop?" she muttered, "I can't listen too well."

Fred laughed and grabbed her hands pulling them down from her ears. He then grabbed a plate next to him and offered it to her, "Jam tart?"

"Nah," Hermione said, scrunching up her nose. "Not too fond of those."

"It's all right," he said. "I haven't done anything to them. It's the custard creams you've got to watch —" Neville, who had just bitten into a custard cream, choked and spat it out. Fred laughed. "Just my little joke, Neville. . . ."

"Liar, liar, pants on fire," Hermione grinned and Fred shrugged innocently.

"How's everything going with Moody?" Fred asked, now more seriously. The two of them hadn't really talked after that day (not properly) and for some reason, he wanted to make sure she was alright.

Hermione gulped and looked away slightly, only to have Fred grab her chin gently and make her face him, "Uh — I still feel uncomfortable around him, my head hurts, but I don't have any more classes with him. Minnie is teaching me now."

"McGonagall?" he asked baffled. "She is?"

"Uh-huh. I told her everything and she wanted to talk to Dumbledore—"

"How come Moody still has a job, then?" Fred asked outraged.

"—I said no. Moody technically didn't do anything wrong. . . .He only asked a question,"

"What do you mean?" Fred asked frowning, he hadn't known this part of the story. No one except Hermione, Moody, and Minnie did. Hermione opted not to tell them because of two solid reasons. One, it would raise suspicion about her. And two, she wanted Harry to not pull his full trust on Moody, who was, in fact, Barty Crouch Jr. This may be considered manipulative but. . . .