Moody's expressionless, scarred face startled both Hermione and Cedric as they suddenly realized with a jolt of panic that they had been chatting right outside the open door of Professor Moody's office.
To make matters worse, as all the young witches and wizards at Hogwarts were well aware, a mere wall was no barrier whatsoever to Moody's magical eye. He must have seen the two of them conversing in the hallway before pressing his ear against the door to eavesdrop on their hushed conversation for some time.
"Professor, we can explain—" Cedric started to say, eager to clarify the situation, but Moody abruptly cut him off before he could get another word out.
The scars twisting Moody's cheeks contorted as he growled, "Mr. Diggory, I believe you were on your way to the Great Hall for supper. Off you go then. I need to have a private word with Miss Granger."
Though extremely reluctant to leave Hermione alone to face Moody's wrath, Cedric knew he had no choice but to comply with a professor's direct order. He took a hesitant step, glanced back over his shoulder with a worried expression, wavered for a moment longer, and then finally disappeared around the corner and down the stairs.
Hermione could feel the blood draining from her face, leaving her skin ashen. She had no idea how Professor Moody would choose to punish her for this, but it was clearly a serious violation of the tournament rules that constituted cheating.
If the consequence was limited to stripping her of her champion status, she could happily accept that. But the terrifying possibility that she might be expelled for this loomed in her racing mind. And if Hagrid somehow got implicated in this as well...Hermione knew all too well how terrified Hagrid was of breaking the law and losing his position at Hogwarts.
"Come in and sit down, Miss Granger," Professor Moody commanded gruffly, beckoning Hermione forward as he turned and limped back into his dimly lit office.
Hermione had fully expected Professor Moody to waste no time in sternly rebuking her, immediately launching into a relentless interrogation similar to that of his days as an Auror passing judgement on wicked dark wizards. However, to her utter bewilderment, none of the harsh treatment she had steeled herself for came.
"So, you've figured it out, have you?" Professor Moody said, his gruff tone oddly gentle, even bordering on pleased in a way Hermione couldn't understand.
"I...I don't...I mean..." Hermione stammered helplessly, her mind racing as she tried to determine the wisest course of action.
Should she come clean right away in a desperate bid for leniency or attempt to maintain a façade of innocence as long as possible?
Having never landed herself in such dire straits before, Hermione felt unprepared to steer such an interrogation. A violent tremor tormented her from head to toe as her imagination uncontrollably conjured vivid images of herself and Hagrid hastily packing their bags and being driven out of Hogwarts in disgrace.
"Now, now, no need to look so distraught, Miss Granger," Moody said with an abnormal chuckle, perhaps noticing the terror written plainly across Hermione's ashen facial features and taking pity on her.
His face softened into an almost kindly expression that seemed extremely out of place on his scarred face. "You know, a bit of strategic cheating has always been a time-honored tradition in the Triwizard Tournament."
'Huh?' Hermione's mind came to a screeching halt, certain she must have misheard or misunderstood the professor's shocking words.
Moody, however, seemed carelessly unaware that he had just dropped a bombshell, casually unscrewing the cap of his hip flask and taking a hearty swig of its contents.
From Professor Moody's undisguised twisted expression, the bottle probably didn't contain a delicious beverage. Hermione wrinkled her nose, feeling the smell was a bit familiar, very familiar, but she had no time to dwell on this issue.
"Ah, let me clarify," Moody continued with a raspy chuckle, his piercing gaze taking in Hermione's gobsmacked expression. "The Triwizard Tournament is designed to test the champions' mettle in a comprehensive manner.
The true competition extends far beyond the official tasks, Miss Granger. Gathering critical intelligence is a crucial component of a champion's overall performance. And in that respect, it seems you've passed with flying colors. Mr. Diggory owes you a debt of gratitude."
Hermione kept blinking dazedly for long seconds, her mind struggling to process this revelation. Only when the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding burst from her lungs did she feel the lingering chill slowly melting away, color rushing back into her pale cheeks.
'So that's how it was!' Suddenly, the pieces all clicked into place, and the fundamental structure of the Triwizard Tournament that had previously struck Hermione as blatantly absurd began to make a bit of sense.
Ever since she had first learned the shocking details of the extremely dangerous tasks featured in past tournaments, Hermione had always thought it was simply too absurd.
Putting adolescent witches and wizards who should still be receiving education against the most fearsome dark creatures known to wizard kind - werewolves, Dementors, vampires, dragons! – without any fair warning seemed like an act of utter madness. Even fully qualified adult witches and wizards would be struggling to survive such lethal trials without extensive preparation.
But now Professor Moody's straightforward words provided the missing context to resolve that fundamental disbalance in her mind. Although a part of her felt annoyed that she had required someone else to spell it out for her. With this realization, the cold dread that had held her paralyzed vanished in a rush, leaving Hermione flushed with embarrassment.
"I...it was pure luck that I stumbled upon it," Hermione said very modestly, trying not to appear too smug.
Moody let out a hoarse, dry laugh, his magical eye spinning rapidly. "Since that's the case, you must have already thought about how to deal with the dragon, eh?"
Hmm— Hermione subconsciously wanted to mention the spells she had been practicing these past few days. But before the words came out, she stopped herself, her expression becoming tense again.
If finding out about the tasks items or beings could be considered a hidden test in the tournament, then discussing how to deal with them with a professor was definitely not something that was allowed. After all, Barty Crouch had already made it clear that champions could not accept help from any professor.
"Professor Moody—" Hermione's eyes flickered as she said with difficulty, "The rules state that discussing this is not allowed."
"Oh, Miss Granger, you don't think I'm going to give you ideas, do you?" Moody let out an exaggerated laugh. "Of course, I won't do that. Even though your classroom performance is excellent, I won't give you special treatment because of it. But I must remind you, Miss Granger, you and Mr. Potter have seen how despicable Karkaroff is. You can take the high road, but I dare say Karkaroff won't be satisfied with just finding out the tournament challenge from Snape. He might even hold a meeting, gather everyone from Durmstrang to come up with ideas for the Durmstrang champion... I'm just—"
Moody's eyes suddenly stopped moving, both eyes quietly staying in their sockets. They began to emit an extremely faint but alluring green glow, a bit like the color of Harry's eyes, Hermione thought blankly.
She was completely unaware of how unreasonable this phenomenon was. But she suddenly had an urge to confide, and then she spilled out her entire plan.
"Brilliantly reasoned, Miss Granger!" Moody said approvingly once Hermione had finished sharing her preparations. "Impeccably selected spells for the task at hand - the Conjunctivitis Curse to target the dragon's eyes, the Impediment Jinx to slow its movements and reaction time, and the Flame-Freezing Charm and Extinguishing Spell to neutralize its most formidable weapon. How in the name of Merlin did you plan such a comprehensive strategy?"
"It was Professor Watson!" Hermione blurted out without thinking. Too late, she realized her slip and shot to her feet in horror, nearly toppling the chair over backwards.
'How could this be? I shouldn't have exposed Professor Watson!'
Moody also looked stunned. He had not expected Watson to be involved in this matter. He didn't seem like someone who would pull strings for a young witch.
"Professor Watson just…. He just gave our class some general tactical advice in a purely academic sense, using the example of an overwhelmingly powerful opponent to illustrate his point!" Hermione scrambled to clarify, desperate to come up with an excuse for Professor Watson. "He wasn't speaking about the tournament at all, I just inferred from his lesson to a real-world situation."
"Be that as it may..." Moody said slowly, his gaze still curiously unfocused. Seeing Hermione ready to bolt for the door, he gestured for her to retake her seat. "Please, sit back down, Miss Granger. We aren't quite finished here."
Though hesitant, Hermione sat back down. The conversation had already reached this point, and she also wanted to hear what Professor Moody would ultimately say.
The cracked Foe-Glass on the desk scattered the sunlight from the window, forming strange, disorienting shadows on the wall. Hermione suddenly realized there were quite a few odd objects in this office. She had seen most of them in books, but there were also some things she couldn't make heads or tails of.
"Professor Watson's oversight is understandable," Moody finally said, his normal eye swiveling to refocus on Hermione while his magical one whizzed around seemingly on its own. "His mastery of combative magic is unrivaled, so he can rely on his own exceptional power to carry the day. That luxury has perhaps blinded him to certain fundamental vulnerabilities in your strategy as it stands."
"What?" Hermione had been feeling annoyed at herself for being so talkative just now. But hearing this, she asked in surprise.
"Admiration can cloud one's judgement, Miss Granger. I'd have thought a witch as brilliant as you would have spotted the problem," Moody said, his tone gently rebuking. "The Conjunctivitis Curse requires pinpoint precision to land cleanly. You know, you're not targeting a block of wood. You're very likely to hit the Dragon's eyelid or even head. One twitch at the crucial moment, and you've just angered a dragon without nullifying its most lethal asset."
Hermione flushed at this oversight, silently criticizing herself for not anticipating that glaring flaw.
Of course, landing such a challenging curse on a moving target at a distance under the intense pressure would be hard. How could she have staked her survival on such an obvious gamble?
"The Impediment Jinx and Flame-Freezing Charm are sound in theory but still risky," Moody continued relentlessly. "I guess they'll certainly have an effect, but it's not guaranteed... You understand what I mean, Miss Granger. Against such a large magical creature, the intensity required to achieve the desired effect would be immense. If your magical power falls before the task is complete..."
Seeing the dumbfounded Hermione, Moody grinned smugly. "Of course, as I said, these are all very useful little spells, just not very safe. I think you can give yourself a stronger trump card... An easily obtainable prop that will make you less conspicuous—"
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