Chapter 69: Song!

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~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.~

Luna's eyes close and her face, framed within a vast flare of blonde hair, becomes even more serene than normal as she listens to the Mermish song. It is a beautiful sight, but quite disconcerting, really. 

I look to Hermione, whose bushy brown tangles are spread out more unevenly, and her eyes are open but unfocused. I can almost see her thoughts churning behind them. I had entirely forgotten the extra verses that aren't in the movie. 

The last verse makes it a lot more obvious why Harry stayed behind. I guess I can try to convince him that Gabrielle will be fine – that they wouldn't let any of the hostages actually die, but I can't imagine he'd go for it. He wouldn't be Harry if that were the case.

I come up for air before either of the two girls.

"What do you think?" Harry asks, sitting on the long, underwater ledge and leaning against the side of the indoor swimming pool they call a bathtub in the prefect's bathroom.

I float over to a point a few feet away, eventually pulling myself up and resting my head against the side. "I think Hermione was right: definitely an underwater task, most likely in the Black Lake."

As if on cue, Hermione stands up and walks over to sit between us.

"But an hour long?" Harry asks. "How am I supposed to breathe underwater for an hour?"

Luna appears at my other side, startling me. "If you figure it out, let me know. I wouldn't mind listening to that egg for a while longer."

"You did look quite peaceful down there," I say. "More than usual, I mean. You're pretty, Luna."

"Thank you, William," Luna says, tilting her head and smiling.

Hermione rolls her eyes at me, but then smiles softly and says nothing about it. "So," she says, pausing as her face turns serious, "Harry has to be able to breathe underwater for up to an hour."

"Preferably a bit more than that, just in case," Harry says.

Suddenly all eyes turn to me, and I try to look like I have no idea. It doesn't work.

"You know, Hermione, if you make me tell you the answer for every puzzle you come across, your researching skills are going to start weakening."

"William, this isn't for a grade or else I would do it myself," Hermione says hotly. "Harry's life could be in danger!"

"That's true I suppose, but the Second Task isn't for almost three months," I counter. "So I think you should ask Neville."

"Neville?" Hermione says.

"Oh yes," I say in what I hope is a reassuring manner. "Neville should know one rather interesting solution."

"I know Neville's a good bloke, Will, but why would he know it and we wouldn't?" Harry asks.

"Hermione?" I ask.

She shakes her head.

"Luna?"

"Neville is enthusiastic about Herbology," she says.

"So there's some kind of plant that could help?" Harry asks.

"I'm sure I don't know, you'll have to ask Neville," I say with a smile.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Hermione asks petulantly.

"Immensely. Although I am surprised that you've never come across the most obvious Charms solution. It seems like something that would be taught at some point in the Hogwarts curriculum." Really, how is Hermione so well-read and yet she had never heard of the Bubble-head Charm? 

But then, I suppose Google doesn't exist yet. I wonder how the wizarding world will change once the Internet becomes ubiquitous.

"You know two possible solutions?" Harry asks incredulously.

"Two for sure," I say with a grin. "I'm sure if you're sufficiently creative and powerful you could do some wicked Transfiguration. It would be way awesomer if you transfigured a tree into a submarine or something."

"Awesomer is not a word, William," she says idly.

"Language is descriptive, not prescriptive. The meaning of 'awesomer' is clear enough that everybody understands, so it gets the point across even if it's not a proper word."

"Well, why not use a proper one?"

"Because I'm a Yank and therefore have no use for the proper Queen's English," I say reasonably. "Plus it was way awesomer to use an improper one for this particular occasion: making outrageous suggestions."

Hermione's mouth opens and closes a couple times.

"I agree with William," Luna says thoughtfully.

"You had no choice, really, for I am both a cunning linguist and a master debater."

A moment of silence ensues as my words sink in, and then Harry and Luna burst out in laughter and Hermione chokes on her saliva. 

I'm surprised at first, since that was supposed to be a bad, overdone joke, but then I remembered that Austin Powers doesn't come out for five more years. I wish I could remember more jokes from the future.

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"I have something to say to you all," Professor McGonagall says as near the end of Transfiguration class some days later. Her eyes focus on Harry. 

"The Yule Ball is approaching – a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity to socialize with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth years and above – although you may invite a younger student if you wish." Whispers erupted at that point, but the professor charged onward. "Dress robes will be worn, and the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall."

She proceeds to chastise us in advance for our behavior, but I stop listening in order to enjoy some reactions. I glance over at Hermione, who's actually frowning at Harry, who in turn looks more frightened than he did when he learned he was going to face a dragon. 

Ron is trying his best to melt into his chair, while Lavender and Parvati are twittering excitedly and glancing around at many of the boys. Which includes me, surprisingly.

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