I Really Did Control You!

Cassandra was clearly taken aback by Harry's question, and she forced a smile.

"You know the answer already, so you ask."

"I don't know anything," Harry said, spreading his hands in a roguish manner.

Cassandra breathed a sigh of relief and pulled back Harry's blanket.

"Time to get up, my master."

As she spoke, she pulled Harry up as ruthlessly as if she were uprooting Mandrake.

Harry was clearly surprised by Cassandra's quick action. By the time he came to his senses, he was already dressed in the clothes Cassandra had given him.

"Let's go eat," Cassandra said to Harry. "I've already told Kritcher to prepare dinner."

Harry yawned, pulled on his slippers, and walked out of the bedroom.

He went down to the restaurant, and the moment he stepped inside, a sumptuous dinner appeared on the table.

No wonder people want a House Elf as a servant; with this level of professionalism, they would definitely be the best choice for a servant.

Dinner was a very traditional Britain -style meal, with dishes like Yorkshire pudding and foie gras pie. It was only because Harry was Britain that he could eat these things; otherwise, he would easily lose his appetite.

"What respectable person likes to eat Britain food?" Harry asked, sitting in his seat. He turned around and saw Cassandra standing beside him.

"I've already eaten," Cassandra said with a reserved smile, exuding the air of a head maid. "Back in Hogwarts..."

I've already eaten.

"What are you eating?" Harry asked, forking a piece of Yorkshire pudding.

"Braised tripe, cream of mushroom soup, smoked salmon, and some garlic butter baguettes with curry beef," Cassandra replied.

"What would you like to drink?"

Harry took a deep breath and, as if going to his execution, stuffed the Yorkshire pudding into his mouth.

Yorkshire pudding isn't actually the kind of pudding we imagine. It's more like a type of bread, with a texture similar to soft bread and a slightly salty taste. It's shaped like a coffee cup, with a soft, sunken center and a crispy outer layer.

If you really want to understand it, it looks somewhat like an egg tart with an egg scooped out.

Yorkshire pudding is often served with roast beef because it readily absorbs meat juices.

Yorkshire pudding is not bad at all; on the contrary, it tastes quite good.

But as an Britain, Yorkshire pudding is a regular on Harry's menu.

In other words, he's already tired of it.

"I had a Butterbeer," Cassandra replied. "I ate it with Sweeting."

Harry glanced at the table in front of him but didn't find any Butterbeer.

There was nothing but a glass of wine.

He gave Cassandra a bloodthirsty smile.

"Don't look at me like that. I know what you're thinking, Potter," Cassandra said disdainfully. "Fine—if you don't like it, I'll have Kritcher make a new meal instead of letting you take your anger out on me here."

"It's fine, I like it." Harry smiled and continued to consume the life-sustaining elements in front of him.

What's so good about Britain along? Even eating a meal is like torture.

After finishing his meal, Harry patted his slightly full stomach.

Even if the food isn't delicious, you should still eat properly.

His motto in life is to avoid waste.

"It's time for a bath," Cassandra reminded her expressionlessly. "Your egg needs to open in water. Remember the legend of the Siren I told you?"

Oh, Siren.

If he hadn't been told, Harry would have forgotten that taking a bath was the most important thing.

The bathrooms at Black family home were quite large, at least that's what Harry thought.

I don't know if it's because of the Untraceable Extension Charm, but it looks at least as big as the Great Hall at Hogwarts.

Harry quickly stripped off his clothes and was about to dive down when he heard a gasp from behind him.

He turned around and saw Cassandra with her hands covering her eyes.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked.

"... Pervert." Cassandra finally managed to utter this sentence after a long pause.

abnormal?

"What's wrong with men being perverted?" Harry asked, puzzled. "Besides, serving your master a bath is your duty as a maid, Cassandra."

"Okay, I understand."

The haughty Young Lady Malfoy, suppressing her discomfort, stepped forward, trying not to look at what she shouldn't be looking at.

"Here's your bath towel." She neatly folded the towel. "And your egg, oh, the Golden Egg."

"I really have to control you," Harry said through gritted teeth.

He took the Golden Egg, turned around, and jumped into the pool.

"Remember, open it underwater," Cassandra reminded her. "I don't want my eardrums pierced by those horrifying screams, okay?"

Harry nodded, placed the Golden Egg under the foamy surface of the water, and opened it—this time it didn't scream.

A soft singing voice came from the Golden Egg, seemingly coming from underwater, but he couldn't make out what it was singing.

There's hope!

He was secretly delighted; it seemed this was the correct way to open the Golden Egg.

"Put your head in!" Cassandra reminded her again. "It looks like you can't hear what it's saying on the surface. I think you should go underwater; that way you might be able to hear it clearly."

Harry didn't answer. He took a deep breath and dove underwater—now, submerged, he heard strange sounds singing in unison from the Golden Egg he had opened:

"Find us, where our voices echo."

We cannot sing on the ground.

When you search, please think carefully:

We stole your most beloved treasure.

You only have one hour.

To find and reclaim the items we took,

After an hour, all hope was lost.

It has vanished completely and will never reappear.

Harry floated to the surface, breaking through the bubbly water.

He shook his head, letting his hair fall away from in front of his eyes.

"Did you hear that?" Cassandra called out. "I suppose this is the correct way to open the Golden Egg, Harry?"

"I heard it," Harry replied, repeating, "'Find us, where our voices are—', wait, I forgot the rest, I need to listen again."

He dived back into the water.

He played the song "Golden Egg" on repeat several times before he finally memorized the lyrics.

He leaned against the edge of the pool, deep in thought, considering all the possibilities, while Cassandra watched him from the shore.

"I must go find those who can't make a sound on the ground," Harry murmured. "Hmm, who could that be?"

"You're as stupid as ever, Potter— "

Cassandra raised her head and looked at Harry with a disdainful gaze.

Do you remember the story I told you before?

"You mean," Harry suddenly realized, "You mean the Siren? Dumbledore and the others brought in the Siren as examiners for the Second Task? Just like the Fire Dragon in the First Task, to test us against the Siren?"

Cassandra rolled her eyes; she was thoroughly fed up with Potter's stupidity.

I really don't know how Grindelwald could put up with his stupidity.

"Not Siren," Cassandra said. "Besides Siren, there are many other creatures in the Magical World that live underwater, such as Grindylow Merpeople— "

"You mean, it could be Merpeople?" Harry scratched his head. "It's not impossible—"

"I already told you," Cassandra said softly, walking to the pool. "How much longer are you going to shower, Potter?"

"Aren't you coming down with me?" Harry asked. "Do you remember what you promised me?"

Cassandra was in her room; she had actually forgotten about her previous request for compensation to bathe with Harry.

Although she didn't agree, her presence here means that she has implicitly accepted everything.

She closed her eyes, sighed, lifted her skirt, and slowly walked up the steps next to Harry.

Harry was a naughty boy too. He stood up and, without warning, pulled Cassandra into the pool. She lost her balance.

It fell into the water with a splash.

"Potter!" Cassandra, her face flushed with anger.

"You promised me this," Harry raised an eyebrow. "Or are you going back on your word?"

As he spoke, he reached his restless hand toward Cassandra's waist.

Cassandra's thin lips trembled, and after a long pause, she slowly said, "Potter! This is the last time!"

Harry didn't know if it would be the last time, but he knew it was the first.

Once you succeed the first time, the second and third times will be a piece of cake.

After a thorough discussion about his life goals with Cassandra, Harry left the bath satisfied. He didn't leave Cassandra to wander aimlessly in the bathroom, but gently led her back to the bedroom.

Clearly, the saying "practice makes perfect" is an irrefutable truth. Since today, Cassandra has indeed become much gentler, at least she doesn't seem to be picking on Harry like before.

At least when she sees Harry, she doesn't show obvious resistance anymore.

Almost as soon as the students were still feeling a bit reluctant to leave, the new semester quietly arrived, after all, the Christmas holiday is not permanent.

The semester will not heed students' dreams of having an everlasting romance with the holidays; it will only ruthlessly crush anyone who tries to slack off.

Of course, this attempt to shirk responsibility specifically refers to the act of not wanting to complete the assignments given by Professor Snape.

Generally speaking, no one would be so reckless, since everyone knows what happens when you anger Snape.

However, there were always one or two exceptional students who dared to challenge Snape's authority, only to be slain by Snape.

"They're really courting death," Ron commented gloatingly to Hermione. "Look at me, I knew at least Snape's homework would be finished."

"Oh, shut up, Ronald!" Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "If you've forgotten how you did your homework, I can help you remember."

Ron shrugged and said nothing.

He was afraid that if he spoke out, Professor Snape would suddenly appear behind him and deduct points from his score.

Even after the Christmas holidays, the grounds were still covered with a thick layer of snow, and fine water droplets condensed on the greenhouse windows, so the students couldn't see what was happening outside when they were having Herbology Class.

In this kind of weather, nobody wants to go to the Care of Magical Creatures, even though Ron says that the Blast-Ended Skrewt will probably warm them up, or they'll either chase the students around or explode in lots of sparks and set Newt's tent on fire.

"Classmates, this is a pain we must go through." Newt tried to comfort the Blast-Ended Skrewt along with Hagrid, but no one believed Newt. After all, the Blast-Ended Skrewt was menacing and didn't look like a friendly creature.

The crackling sparks, in particular, convinced the students of their belief.

"Have you figured out what the Golden Egg is all about?" Hermione asked with concern. "I've heard that the warriors of Beauxbatons have already solved the riddle of the Golden Egg— "

Harry told Hermione the lyrics he had received earlier, knowing that Hermione was always very good at this.

"It's hard to say." Hermione wrinkled her nose. "I don't really know how to put it, but—well, the question is, what's your most precious thing—what is your most precious thing?"

"Firebolt?" Harry asked tentatively. "You know, I really love Quidditch, and Firebolt is definitely one of my favorite things."

"Hard to say," Hermione shook her head. "Theoretically, it should be something you're inseparable from, so let's rule out the wand first."

After all, a wand is needed to participate in the Triwizard Tournament. Let me think... could it be love? But it's impossible that they would hide the treasure. I don't believe anyone could knock Veratia unconscious from the Greater German Ministry of Magic's office and stuff her into a lake. Of course, if anyone could do that, I would call him the strongest carbon-based life form of the 20th century—"

"But right now I think what you need to focus on most is how to survive underwater for an hour," Hermione said again. "That's the key point, don't you think?"

"Oh, that's easy, the Bubble-Head Charm," Harry shrugged. "The Bubble-Head Charm can last for more than two hours, and if the spell is strong enough, it can even last for several weeks without dissipating."

"If that's the case, then there's no problem," Hermione said with a smile. "I believe in your abilities."

Harry, as long as you can survive underwater for an hour, that's enough. Whatever that most precious thing is, it won't stop you—the only difference is the length of time, don't you think, Harry?

"Thank you for the compliment." Harry thought to himself that he hadn't really taken the Second Task too seriously.

"That--"

Hermione suddenly moved closer to Harry, glanced at Cassandra was quietly eating beside Harry, and whispered, "What's wrong with Miss Malfoy? I remember she used to get along really badly with you, even looked down on you, so why is she so—well, so well-behaved now?"

"Because she's already won over." Harry shrugged.

Convinced?

Hermione looked Harry up and down, thought for a moment, but decided not to say anything hurtful.