Harry Potter: The Golden Viper

Fleur delicately closed the carriage door with a soft click, leaving Harry frozen in place and his fingers lingered on the spot where her soft lips had brushed his cheek. His eyes remained fixed on the golden design on the door with two wands crossed in a perfect X catching the last rays of the setting sun. The warmth of the kiss seemed to linger on his skin, making time stand still in that moment.

"Hmph!" The sharp sound woke him from his reverie.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked in confusion, though the moment the words left his mouth, he knew exactly what had triggered the reaction.

Hermione's angry snort had shattered the silence, and as Harry turned to face her, he was met with an expression of barely contained fury. Her brown eyes were blazing, her bushy hair seeming to crackle with indignation while her hands were clenched at her sides.

"Savoring the moment, are you?" Hermione's voice dripped with sarcasm. Her eyes darted between Harry and the carriage, her face flushed with what appeared to be more than just the evening chill. "If you're missing it already, you could always knock on the door and ask if she'd like to kiss your other cheek too!"

"Oh—" Harry felt heat rush to his face, a deep crimson blush spreading across his cheeks. He felt thoroughly wronged by the accusation - after all, Fleur's kiss came completely unexpected. Who could possibly have prepared themselves for such a sudden gesture?

The heat of embarrassment spread down his neck as he struggled to find the right words to defend himself.

"Shouldn't we go see Professor Watson again?" Harry said carefully, desperately trying to change the subject as his mind whirled with confusion at Hermione's reaction.

Girls' thoughts were truly a mystery, he reflected ruefully. But he wisely chose not to pursue that topic. Now that his relationship with Ron had hit a rough patch, he treasured his friendship with Hermione even more. So, he clumsily changed the subject.

"Why?" Hermione's eyebrows shot up questioningly, her voice still carrying a sharp edge.

"To tell Professor Watson we completed the task," Harry explained, trying to keep his voice steady and matter-of-fact. "Besides, Fleur asked us to convey her thanks to Professor Watson—"

The words had barely left his mouth when he realized his grave error. Mentally kicking himself for mentioning Fleur again, he watched helplessly as Hermione's expression darkened further. He still couldn't fathom what exactly Fleur had done to provoke such a weird strong reaction from her.

"Hopeless," Hermione muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible. She turned on her heel and stormed off toward the castle, her footsteps heavy with anger against the damp grass.

The journey back became an exercise in awkward coordination. The Invisibility Cloak, usually a relief, now felt like a burden as Harry struggled to keep it covering both of them while maintaining a distance from Hermione as she angrily refused to walk beside him.

Hermione's determined stride forced Harry to shuffle along behind her, stretching out uncomfortably to hold the Invisibility cloak for both of them and stumble forward as they sprinted.

As they approached the warm glow emanating from the castle windows, disaster struck. Harry accidentally stepped in a deep puddle and suddenly lost his balance. Time seemed to slow as he pitched forward, arms windmilling helplessly. With a muffled yelp, he crashed into Hermione, sending them both tumbling onto the wet grass.

"Who's there!" A sharp, imposing voice sliced through the night air.

The voice came from behind an extending corner of the castle, near the grand marble staircase.

Pure instinct took over as Harry and Hermione immediately curled into tight balls, pressing themselves against the cold ground. They pulled the Invisibility Cloak tighter around themselves, each clapping a hand over their mouth to stifle their heavy breathing and painful cry due to the fall.

Professor Watson's warning echoed in their minds— they were on their own: if they were caught by other staff members or prefects, he wouldn't cover for them!

"Who's eavesdropping there!" The voice demanded again.

A dazzling milky-white light suddenly burst forth from behind the corner, illuminating the darkness and casting long, menacing shadows across the grounds.

The light revealed a face that made Harry's blood run cold - a face he knew all too well, with its sallow skin, hooked nose, and curtains of greasy black hair. Even before the figure fully emerged, Harry and Hermione had recognized the owner of that cold, sharp voice - Severus Snape, the very embodiment of their worst fears at this moment.

Harry and Hermione exchanged terrified glances in the harsh wandlight, their hearts pounded so loudly they were almost certain Snape would hear them.

The wet grass beneath them seeped through their robes, the mud and moisture creating an uncomfortably cold sensation against their skin, but they didn't dare move a muscle. Instead, they tried to make themselves even smaller, pressing closer to the ground despite the discomfort.

"Don't try to fool me, I've seen you!" Snape's voice carried its typical sneer as he advanced slowly with his wand sweeping back and forth like a searchlight. His black robes curled ominously in the night breeze, making him appear even more bat-like than usual.

Harry saw through Snape's bluff immediately. While the Invisibility Cloak wasn't perfect— Harry had encountered a few people, who could see through it its disguise but he knew Snape wasn't among them. Still, Snape's closeness made their every breath feel dangerous.

"Stop searching, Severus--"

A new voice came from the darkness, causing Harry and Hermione to nearly jump out of their skin. The voice belonged to Igor Karkaroff, the Durmstrang headmaster, who emerged from the shadows like a ghost. His silver fur robes caught the light from the entrance hall, creating an almost ethereal glow around his tall figure. His face, however, showed clear signs of impatience and agitation.

"Perhaps it was just a fox from the forest that happened to break its leg--" Karkaroff suggested dismissively as he approached Snape from behind, his boots making soft crunching sounds on the frozen grass.

Harry observed as Snape's thin lip twitched visibly in annoyance. It seemed he wasn't ready to give up so easily, his dark eyes narrowed as he continued to pace around the lawn methodically, searching for any sign of the intruder who made the noise.

By some miracle - or perhaps the first stroke of luck Harry had experienced in weeks - Snape never came close enough to where they lay to discover their fresh footprints in the dew-covered grass.

"Stop wasting time, Severus. Why did you call me here?" Karkaroff's impatience was becoming more obvious with each passing moment.

Hermione's mind was already working through the implications of Karkaroff's words.

The meeting wasn't chance encounter— Snape had arranged it for the two of them to meet here. But how did these two know each other well enough for Karkaroff to address Snape so familiarly?

As the questions arose in her mind, Hermione's expression changed. She suddenly realized a possibility - Sirius had told her today that Durmstrang's headmaster was a Death Eater, and there had always been dubious rumors about Snape himself.

Finally accepting that his search was futile, Snape extinguished his wand with a quick motion and drew himself up to his full height, turning to face Karkaroff. His voice, when he spoke, was soft but carried an unmistakable edge of threat.

"I have something to ask you, Igor. For the sake of our past association, I hope you'll tell me the truth. You know lies don't stand up well before me."

"What do you want to know?" Karkaroff's response came with a hint of wariness.

Harry strained his ears against the whistling wind that swept across the grounds, his heart thundered so loudly in his chest he feared it might give them away. But when Snape's question finally came, it was like a bolt of lightning striking them both where they lay and his heart nearly stopped from shock.

"Hermione Granger, that foolish girl who was chosen as Hogwarts' second champion - Igor, did you have a hand in this?"

Harry felt Hermione stiffen beside him, and he desperately wanted to see her reaction, but didn't dare move. Instead, he carefully raised his head just enough to study Karkaroff's face in the dim light filtering from the castle windows.

Karkaroff's facial features had contorted into an expression of absolute disbelief, his thick eyebrows were shooting upward while his goatee seemed to bristle with indignation.

"Is this a joke, Severus?" Karkaroff's voice rose slightly, a note of hysteria creeping in. He threw his arms wide in an exaggerated gesture of innocence. "You're suspecting me? That's ridiculous. You think I put that little girl's name in the Goblet of Fire? Why would I do such a thing - to create more competition for myself?"

Snape remained unmoved, his black eyes were glittering like cold obsidian in the darkness. "Don't you find it interesting what Watson and Moody suggested when we discussed this matter that night?"

It was clear from Karkaroff's reaction that Watson and Moody's deductions had struck a nerve. His pacing became more agitated, boots crushing the frost-covered grass beneath them. Though he didn't seem surprised by the question, his defense came with renewed vigor, "This is absurd, Severus. Absolutely absurd!"

Karkaroff's movements became increasingly erratic as he stalked back and forth in front of Snape. Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks, whirling to face the Snape with fury etched across his facial features.

"You actually think I would—" Perhaps realizing his reputation might not be the best, Karkaroff interrupted his original explanation and quickly changed it. "I was with my students the entire evening, Severus, they can vouch for me!"

"You surely slipped away for a while, didn't you?" Snape's voice was cold, cutting through Karkaroff's protests like a frozen blade. "And took a little stroll around the castle?"

Harry had never witnessed Snape quite like this before. Though he could only see his back, the sheer intensity radiating from him was tangible.

His usual classroom intimidation tactics paled in comparison to this methodical interrogation. Each question seemed designed to chip away at Karkaroff's defenses, like a master duelist probing for weaknesses. Yet even as Harry watched this fascinating conversation, questions multiplied in his mind like rabbits.

From these questions, it seemed Snape wasn't the one targeting Hermione, but why was he so invested in investigating this matter? Was it on Professor Watson's or Dumbledore's orders? Did they task him with this inquiry because they knew both Snape and the Durmstrang headmaster had once served Voldemort and had an unusual connection?

Karkaroff's face contorted into an almost manic grin, his laughter was tinged with barely suppressed rage.

"Has the comfortable life at Hogwarts dulled your once-sharp mind, Severus?" Karkaroff's words dripped with contempt. His silver robes shimmered as he gestured wildly, "What was I supposed to do - just walk brazenly into the entrance hall and submit the name of a little girl I'd never even met? Do you take me for such a fool?"

"You wouldn't have used your own face, of course, Igor--" Snape's voice was deadly quiet as he advanced towards Karkaroff with his black robes merging with the shadows. The movement was so smooth that even Harry, safely hidden under the cloak, felt a chill run down his spine.

Snape's eyes seemed to bore into Karkaroff's very soul, glinting with an intensity that made Karkaroff involuntarily step backward. The sharp light in Snape's gaze was so penetrating that Karkaroff couldn't maintain eye contact, and his own eyes darted away like frightened birds.

"There's an interesting coincidence." Snape's words echoed in the cold night air. "The very night you and the Beauxbatons delegation arrived at Hogwarts, certain items went missing from my stores - Bicorn powder, Boomslang skin." He paused deliberately, "You know what these are used for, don't you, Igor?"

Harry felt Hermione's sharp intake of breath beside him - clearly, these ingredients held some significance that he didn't understand. But Snape wasn't finished.

"True, the brewing time would have been tight, but with advance planning, there are ways to speed up the process..."

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