The Second Task
Crookshanks had never been one to tolerate noise. The high-pitched screech of the enchanted golden egg, which Harry had foolishly opened in front of him, was a torture Crookshanks had not signed up for. He had tried to ignore it at first—he really had—but the sound. That horrible sound.
It was as though a hundred banshees had decided to harmonize inside his skull. Crookshanks gave Hermione a withering look as she held it up, clearly not noticing his suffering. Hermione was far too distracted with deciphering the egg's secrets to notice her poor, long-suffering cat, whose ears were twitching violently in protest.
“That’s it!” Crookshanks thought with a heavy sigh, “I’ve had enough of this nonsense.”
He made his dramatic exit, strutting out of the room with all the dignity of a cat who knew his worth. With a swish of his tail, he made his way outside, avoiding the horrible shrieks of the egg, until the sound faded behind him.
A few months later...
He strolled lazily toward the lake, his eyes narrowing. Ah, the Triwizard Tournament—such a spectacle. This year’s second task was coming up, and Crookshanks had no intention of missing it. It was always amusing to watch these humans scramble. Particularly when they had no idea what they were doing.
As Crookshanks lay on a nearby rock, soaking up the sun, he wasn’t entirely alone. His unanticipated companion, Nagini, slithered into view. Her enormous form was a strange contrast to the peaceful lake setting. She had a certain grace that Crookshanks admired, even if he would never admit it. In truth, he had been spending more time with her since the first task—after Hermione had become too busy with her books and Harry's endless moping.
Nagini, flicking her tongue, coiled around the base of the rock, eyeing Crookshanks with a look that could only be described as amusement.
“You’ve come to watch the show, then?” Crookshanks said, his voice thick with sarcasm. “I hear we’re about to watch them flounder in the water. How exciting.”
Nagini’s tongue flicked in what could almost be called a chuckle. “You think the boy will fail?”
“Oh, undoubtedly. He’s got all the grace of a flailing chicken,” Crookshanks replied with a smug flick of his tail. “The sooner he realizes he’s in over his head, the better. Honestly, what is it with humans and water? They think they’re so clever with their bubbles and legs. If they just used their claws—”
Nagini’s slow, hypnotic hiss interrupted him. “I hear someone’s coming.”
Crookshanks perked up, his eyes glinting with sudden interest. Sure enough, the Second Task was beginning, and the contestants were headed for the water. Harry, Cedric, Fleur, and Krum. Four little humans, thinking they could survive this watery challenge.
Crookshanks let out a small, disdainful snort. "A mermaid might have a better shot than Potter. And she doesn’t even have thumbs."
Nagini watched with rapt attention as Harry plunged into the water, struggling to keep himself afloat. Crookshanks, however, was mostly interested in the fact that there were so many shiny things floating in the water. Gold, glinting and shimmering like a thousand bits of treasure. It was a cat’s paradise.
But before he could enjoy the view too long, he heard Harry cry out in surprise and frustration, “What are you doing here?”
Crookshanks flicked his ears, then lazily rolled onto his side. He had to admit, there was something amusing about watching the boy flounder in the lake. The Triwizard Tournament was, if nothing else, a truly entertaining experience.
Nagini’s deep voice interrupted his thoughts. “Do you think he will succeed?”
Crookshanks thought for a moment, watching the spectacle unfold. Harry was struggling, but he had something the others didn’t: heart. Not that Crookshanks cared for heart. No, Crookshanks was about brains. But still, he gave a shrug.
“Hard to say,” he murmured. “I think they all might drown, honestly. But it’s fun to watch them try.”
Nagini’s slitted eyes glittered with amusement, and for a moment, the two shared a rare, unspoken understanding. The humans, with all their grand gestures and misguided heroics, would never understand the simple pleasures of observation. Crookshanks didn’t need to get wet. He was above that.
And so, as Harry and the others struggled, Crookshanks and Nagini remained perched, completely dry, watching the Second Task unfold with a quiet satisfaction.
Crookshanks stretched out on the rock, smug as ever. “I’ll let them think they’ve won. But we both know it’s really me who runs this show.”