Chapter 323. How Can I Become as Strong as Harry
"This is—"
Harry's eyes widened as he stared curiously at the Golden Egg floating in a magical water bubble.
Adrian Wesson explained, "Strictly speaking, you ought to unravel this riddle yourself. But… your egg is about to explode. It's probably beyond saving."
No sooner had he finished than the water bubble around the Golden Egg shuddered violently.
Before Harry could react, the egg burst open underwater. Wesson flicked his wand; an invisible barrier sprang up in front of Harry.
Shards of eggshell shot through the bubble and pinged away as they struck the barrier, finally clattering to the floor in a glittering shower.
"Be a touch more alert, Harry," Wesson reminded him. "Once you know it's going to explode, why not be ready for it?"
Harry rubbed his head. "Because you're here, Professor."
"All right, I can't argue with that."
Wesson's expression eased.
Then both of them turned their attention to the hovering bubble.
The water inside gleamed an eerie blue, with silver motes drifting within, as though moonlight had been poured into it.
"Magic is always marvellous," Wesson said. "It lets you store things you can't see or touch—like sound… Well, Muggles can do that too, I suppose—"
"In any case, are you ready, Harry? The hint only comes once."
Before Harry could answer, Wesson swished his wand. A thin seam opened at the top of the bubble, and an otherworldly song spilled out, echoing around the office:
"Come seek us where our voices sound,
We cannot sing above the ground,
And while you're searching, ponder this:
We've taken what you'll sorely miss.
An hour long you'll have to look,
And to recover what we took,
But past an hour—the prospect's black,
Too late, it's gone, it won't come back."
When the last note faded, Wesson gave a light clap.
The merpeople's song, after magical translation, was indeed pleasant—heard raw, it would have been as grating as a hundred cats scratching their claws down a blackboard.
"The hint is over, Harry."
Wesson pocketed his wand. The bubble dissolved into a scatter of motes, leaving only a faintly shimmering puddle on the floor.
Frowning, Harry was still mulling over the lyrics. "What… does it mean? And what does 'what you'll sorely miss' refer to?"
"I'm afraid that's for you to think through," Wesson said with a small smile. "I suggest you copy the lyrics down and prepare properly."
Harry nodded solemnly.
At noon the next day, Wesson suddenly realised he had yet to tell Harry and Cedric that he'd become the Triwizard Tournament's Advising Professor.
As he passed the sixth-floor tapestry corridor, he happened to meet Cedric Diggory coming out of the Prefects' Bathroom, water still dripping from the ends of his hair.
"Good afternoon, Professor Wesson."
He stepped up to greet Wesson.
Wesson noticed then that Cedric was holding a dripping Golden Egg.
Clearly he had already solved the riddle—Wesson couldn't think of another reason to have him in the Prefects' Bathroom at midday.
"Looks like you've discovered the secret of the egg?" Wesson asked.
Cedric gave a slight nod. "Yes—though I'm not completely sure."
"Oh? Good."
Wesson patted his shoulder encouragingly, then said, "As it happens, I have something to let you all know. Professor Dumbledore has asked me to serve as Hogwarts' Triwizard Tournament Advising Professor. If you have any questions, you can come to me anytime."
"Really?"
Surprise flashed across Cedric's face, then dimmed a little.
"I'm afraid I've disappointed you, Professor," he said in a low voice. "I didn't do well in the first task. And… I don't know how to do better."
Wesson regarded him kindly. "You did well enough, Cedric. The tournament has only just begun; being behind for a moment doesn't mean anything. You've still got two tasks to make up the points—like in Quidditch, everything can change before the Seeker catches the Golden Snitch."
"You're right."
Cedric sighed.
Of course he knew that. Beating himself up wouldn't help.
But he was only human; feeling low was normal.
People had always seen him as the outstanding one.
The Triwizard Tournament was different: this time he was at the bottom.
The contrast left him choked up—especially beneath the expectant gazes of his fellow Hufflepuffs. He felt he'd let them down—even if everyone was encouraging and comforting him.
Seeing through his thoughts, Wesson said, "You should adjust your mindset a bit, Cedric."
"I understand," Cedric exhaled. "I'll prepare properly for the second task."
Wesson had no worries about Cedric.
He didn't lavish him with comfort.
Comfort likely wouldn't help.
For a student like Cedric, letting him reset himself was enough.
After leaving the sixth floor, Wesson headed for his office.
As he reached the door, he saw a red-haired boy hovering outside, frowning. One hand kept lifting and falling, as if he couldn't decide whether to knock.
"Ron?"
Wesson stopped.
What was the boy doing here?
"Hello, Ron," Wesson walked up and patted his shoulder. "Waiting for me?"
"!"
Ron jolted so hard he nearly leapt into the doorframe.
Only when he turned and saw Wesson did he let out a breath.
"Do you always walk without making a sound, Professor Wesson?" he blurted.
"Oh, certainly not," Wesson chuckled. "I only did it to give you a scare."
Ron gave two dry laughs, and the tension bled out of him.
Then, shuffling, he rubbed his hands together, eyes darting about as he tried to find the words.
Taking him for someone with a difficulty he couldn't voice, Wesson said gently, "Come in and sit, Ron. Fancy a hot cocoa?"
Ron nodded and followed Wesson into the office.
Once he'd sat down, the warm fire and the steaming drink loosened his tight shoulders a little.
"So," Wesson settled into the chair behind his desk, fingers steepled under his chin, "what did you come to see me about?"
Prompted by the question, Ron hastily put down his cocoa and sat up straight.
His fingers twisted together. Then, taking a deep breath, he said, "Professor… I want to know… how I can become as strong as Harry. I mean… for fighting a dragon and stuff…"
"?"
Wesson raised an eyebrow, then leaned forward slightly, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. "Why do you ask?"
Ron felt a little short of breath.
"I want to beat a dragon all by myself…" His voice dwindled to a murmur. "Like Harry did."
Like this story Leave a review ; it would really help me out a lot.
Want to Read Ahead in Advance?
Join my Patreon!
+75 Chapters
Support me in
Patreon.com/BestElysium