Harry Potter: The Golden Viper

"Auxiliary spells cannot be used to directly attack, but they can create obstacles for opponents and help oneself get out of trouble during a duel, producing unexpected effects. For example, if you are facing a vicious and fierce dragon, you certainly can't defeat it.

But you could use Accio charm to call nearby objects that might aid in escape or defense. Use Disillusionment charm to hide in the surroundings, A well-cast Fire-Extinguishing Charm could neutralize Dragon's flame-breath. Finally, a targeted Conjunctivitis Curse could temporarily blind it, drastically reducing its ability to locate and attack you."

Remembering Professor Watson's words, Hermione, like Harry, jumped up with excitement, her body trembling with exhilaration. Just as Harry had imagined, Hermione had written down everything Professor Watson said in class, also memorizing it word for word!

"This," Hermione exclaimed breathlessly, her voice quivering with emotion, "This is Professor Watson's reminder to all the champions. He told us long ago that the chosen champions would likely emerge from among the students of his physical education class!"

Harry hadn't felt such a surge of excitement and anticipation since the moment Hermione's name had been pulled from the Goblet of Fire.

"The Disillusionment Charm, Fire Extinguishing Charms, spells to blind the dragon's vision..." He turned to Hermione, his eyes burning with eager curiosity. "How do we do that, Hermione?"

"There's a spell called the Conjunctivitis Curse," Hermione's cheeks were flushed red by the firelight, and there were also tears shining in her eyes. It was as if a prisoner sentenced to death had received salvation before their execution.

"I know all these spells!" Hermione was so moved that her eyes turned red. "Professor Watson is such a good person!"

"I thought he would choose to stand by and watch. I didn't expect this!"

Harry shook his head in wonder.

They shared a moment of gleeful laughter, the tension and fear of the past weeks momentarily forgotten in their newfound optimism.

"Well then," Harry said, clapping his hands together. "Sounds like you just need to review more before the tournament starts and make sure you don't forget any of the spells, right?"

Hermione nodded, a flicker of doubt still lingering in the depths of her mind. But in this instant, she was like a drowning sailor clinging to a lifeline, desperate to hold tight to this glimmer of salvation. She refused to give up her grip on this fragile hope, and forcibly pushed aside any doubts that threatened to take root.

As the initial wave of euphoria began to recede, an all-consuming exhaustion settled upon them.

The unrelenting stress and pressure of the past days had taken their toll, yet they had no chance to rest their weary minds and bodies as they scoured every book for some way to keep Hermione safe from the dragon's fangs. But now, with this small beacon of hope illuminating their path forward, the adrenaline that had sustained them drained away, leaving only bone-deep fatigue in its trail.

Drowsily, they gathered up the scattered notes scattered randomly around the common room. In a daze, they shoved the papers into their bookbags, reason winning out over the temptation to simply kick the whole lot into the cheery blaze crackling in the fireplace. Feet dragging and limbs heavy, they bid each other a mumbled goodnight and stumbled off to their respective dormitories, desperate for the sweet sleep.

Harry ascended the stone steps to his dormitory, but found himself hesitating outside the closed door, one hand resting on the brass knob.

The dormitory was pitch dark, and Harry could hear Neville's snoring from outside the door. During this period of physical education classes, Neville had been very unhappy in their team. He seemed to have completely lost his previous agility when practicing with Dungbombs and became as clumsy as in other classes.

Where the problem lied was not difficult to guess. Neville's talent in spells was really lacking, which also affected his original advantages. But this was not the problem Harry was considering.

The door of the dormitory was open, and the wind in the corridor was blowing into the dormitory, continuously bringing in the cold.

Did they forget to close the door, or... was someone just like him, not in their four-poster bed?

With doubts in his mind, Harry quietly walked in.

Everyone was in their own bed, including the person in the dormitory who wasn't talking to him now. Harry sighed but didn't know why he felt disappointed.

With a mix of relief and regret churning in his gut, Harry collapsed onto his bed fully clothed, not even bothering to take off his trainers.

As his eyelids drooped closed, one final thought chased itself round and round his exhausted brain: If Ron knew about these things in the Tournament, knew that Hermione and the other three champions were competing to see who could survive longer under the dragon's mouth, what would he say? would he, could he still be so concerned with petty things like pride and glory?

Morning came all too soon, watery November sunlight stealing through a gap in the curtains to stab at Harry's gritty, aching eyes.

Thursday - double Herbology with the Hufflepuffs was first thing, Harry reminded himself blearily as he dragged his sluggish, protesting body out of bed. Perhaps some fresh air would shake the cobwebs from his brain.

As he swayed into Greenhouse Three, it seemed that, at long last, the 'Puffs had come to terms with the inevitable truth - that Hermione would be representing Hogwarts in the Tournament, chosen as she had been by the Goblet.

The open hostility of weeks past had faded, replaced by a sort of grudging acceptance. This change in perception also made them no longer keen on making faces in class. Among them, those who participated in Professor Watson's dueling class, such as Hannah, Finch-Fletchley, and Macmillan, unexpectedly found some sense of honor in Hermione.

Feeling this change, the burden on Hermione's mind was finally lifted a bit more. But what she didn't understand was that when she was squeezing pus for Professor Sprout's newly grown batch of bubotuber, she could always feel Ron, who was separated from her by a few people, peeping at her.

After that conflict, Harry and Hermione listened to Hagrid's advice and decided to calm down for the time being and not touch each other's sensitive relationships. Ron maintained a high degree of tacit understanding with the two of them and generally wouldn't take the initiative to make eye contact with them. Could it be...

Hermione stopped her hand movements and looked at Ron, her eyes faintly revealing expectation. She hoped that Ron could take the initiative to say something to Harry or herself.

However, Ron also seemed to notice that Hermione was observing him. He never looked up again and focused on dealing with the not-so-small tuber with Seamus.

"Hiss—"

Hermione felt a sense of loss in her heart and didn't notice a drop of high-concentration yellowish-green pus sliding into her wrist along the protective glove. The corrosiveness of the pus immediately made Hermione's face turn pale.

"Did you hurt yourself, dear?"

Professor Sprout maintained a high level of vigilance. She immediately ran over to check the situation, and Harry also nervously brought his head over.

"Sorry, Professor, I just..." Hermione gasped, "was careless—"

Up to now, the number of students who had tasted the fierceness of bubotuber pus had reached double digits, but Professor Sprout still showed unusual concern for her.

Hermione speculated that this might be because Professor Sprout was well aware of Hufflepuff's unfriendly attitude when she had just become a champion, including herself. In the first few days, her attitude was also slightly cold. She might have felt a bit of remorse, so she proposed to personally help her treat the injury.

After the class ended, the students left one after another. In the greenhouse, only Harry was waiting for Professor Sprout to use a kind of potion to treat the scorch marks on Hermione's wrist.

However, at this moment, Ron, who had already left, suddenly returned to the greenhouse again.

It was Ron.

"Ahem—"

Perhaps because Harry and Hermione's surprised looks were too obvious, Ron looked a bit embarrassed. But in any case, he still walked over under the pressure in his heart. When he got close, he quickly glanced at Hermione's wrist, and moved his lips.

"What?"

Harry didn't hear clearly what Ron was saying, and he asked in astonishment.

"Krum—"

Ron took a deep breath and pointed to the door with his body.

"Krum is outside. He wants to see you—" Ron's eyes pointed at Hermione, his expression a bit unnatural. "I asked him what was the matter, but he didn't want to say. He said he just wanted to chat with you alone—"

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, both clearly understanding that what each of them was surprised about was definitely not just Krum alone.

"Well, that's it—"

Although he was also confused and uneasy about Krum approaching Hermione, it seemed that saying these words had used up all of Ron's courage. He slowly retreated. When he reached a certain distance, he quickly turned around and accelerated his pace, running out of the greenhouse.

"Done—"

Professor Sprout spoke in a timely manner. She threw the cotton swab used to apply medicine to Hermione's wound into the trash can, without any intention to inquire about what important matter the Durmstrang champion needed to discuss with one of the Hogwarts champions before the start of the competition.

When Harry and Hermione walked out of the greenhouse, they immediately saw Krum standing there alone waiting. Some Durmstrang students were waiting for Krum farther away. They should be taking Hagrid's class with Ravenclaw today.

"Be careful, Hermione—"

After encountering Snape and Karkaroff's secret meeting, Harry regained his vigilance towards Krum. He lowered his voice and said,

"Maybe Karkaroff didn't get any useful information from Snape, so he sent Krum to try his luck with you."

This kind of guess was not impossible. But in any case, Hermione had to go and see the situation.

Harry originally thought they would chat for a long time, but just two minutes later, Krum ran to find his classmates, while Hermione walked back with a strange expression on her face.

"What's the matter?" Harry immediately stepped forward and asked nervously, "Did he want to pry task information from you? You didn't tell him, right?"

Hermione's face was full of confusion. She responded to Harry's gaze and was silent for a full half minute before speaking,

"Quite the opposite, Harry—"

Hermione took a deep breath and looked at the group of Durmstrang people heading to the Great Hall.

"He came to warn me that what we will face in the first task is dragons... But how did he know? That night, only Beauxbatons' headmistress and I were with Hagrid, right?"

"But why would he warn you!"

After a moment of silence, Harry, who had his mouth wide open for a long time, pointed out another question worth pondering!

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