godsent | h. potter

fifteen.

THE WEIGHT OF A THOUSAND SECRETS

A few weeks after Patricia and Harry's little moment in the Common Room arrived the dreaded Second Task. After the flurry of events that happened before it, Patricia finds herself forgetting of its existence, and it seemed like Harry forgot of it as well.

"You're seriously listening to that Diggory guy?" Patricia asks Harry as they brisk walked towards the Gryffindor Common Room to discuss it with their friends, their hands interlaced. "Not to be mean or anything, but even if he's a Hufflepuff, he's still your rival. How can you be so sure of his so-called tip?"

The raven haired boy pondered the girl's words for a moment before he shakes his head. Harry was as hard headed as a rock, or maybe even steel, and Patricia knew that once he set his mind on something, the chance of swaying him would be little to none. Still, she was concerned about the validity of the other Hogwarts champion's clue for the next task, and she didn't want anything to happen to the green eyed male.

"It's not like I have any other idea on how to open it, Pat." Harry says, almost restlessly, as he paces around the Common Room. Patricia sighs in defeat, knowing what he said to be unfortunately true.

"Then what are you waiting for? I'll tell 'Mione and Ron what's up, we'll meet you in the library after," says Patricia, ushering the anxious wizard to the painting of the Fat Lady. "Do stay out of trouble, we don't want you getting detention now."

Harry rolls his eyes fondly at the girl's words, "Yes, mother." 

Patricia sent him a glare at his sassy remark, but after spending time with the Golden boy, she was all too familiar with his sarcastic tendencies and dramatic antics. "I may have feelings for you, but I won't hesitate to kick your ass to Mars if you keep that attitude up," Patricia grumbled as she trudged to the dorms to call for her bushy haired friend. 

Which leads us to where they are now, hidden behind the mountains and piles of books, stuck with a problem that had made them question their sanity as well as their very existence. Blame Harry, who had returned to them with a rather distressed look as he explained the riddle that the Golden Egg gave.

"Slightly problematic?" Harry sassed, his brows furrowed as he stared at Hermione with annoyance. "When was the last time you held your breath underwater for an hour, Hermione?"

The demigod reaches out to take Harry's hand in hers, squeezing it gently in an effort to try and ease the boy's nerves. The anxious boy sent her a grateful smile, squeezing her hand back.

"Isn't there a potion or spell or something?" Patricia suggested restlessly, tired and nauseous of all the books that made her head swirl. The words, as usual, floated off the pages and the letters shifted and turned making it impossible for Patricia to read.

The trio gave her looks to which she responded with raised hands ㅡ a symbol of defeat. It was not like the girl to be book smart anyway, and considering her lineage, breathing underwater had never been a daunting task to her.

In other words, she simply can't relate.

From in front of her, Hermione snaps the book she's been reading shut, "Oh, this is no use! Who on earth wants to make their nose hair grow into ringlets?"

"I wouldn't mind," piped in a newcomer. "Be a talking point, wouldn't it?"

The trio whipped around to meet them, all sporting different reactions on their faces at the sight of Fred and George Weasley. Ron sent his brothers a suspicious look, "What're you two doing here?"