Hola, so here, as promised, without a year between updates, is part two of our Trouble Twins being unable to control themselves (honestly, every time they get left alone something happens, they just can't help themselves). Next chapter is already in the works, and will feature Fleur and all her drama at the moment. Anyway, enough from me, enjoy!

"Again?"

Shaking her head, Hermione swam towards the edge of the bath, pulling herself onto the tiled floor and running to where she had folded her pyjamas, "Just give me a moment," rifling through the pockets of her dressing gown, she emerged triumphant, brandishing a quill and piece of parchment. Lowering herself onto the edge of the bath once more, she waved Harry closer to where she was sitting.

"Can you dictate the clue to me? I don't really want to have to come back here any time we want to hear it again."

"Yeah, alright."

Tilting his head so that one ear was under the water, "umm… 'And while you're searching, ponder this: We've taken what you'll sorely miss'," pausing to sneeze as a bubble floated up his nose, "'what we took,' wait I missed a bit… hang on," shaking the water from his ear, he dove under water properly again.

"Ok, umm, I think it starts with 'seek us where our voices sound,'?" Hermione frowned at the piece of parchment in her hand, scribbling as quickly as she could to keep up with Harry's dictation.

"'We cannot sing above the ground, and while you're searching, ponder this: we've taken what you'll sorely miss',"

"You've already said that last bit," Hermione interrupted, crossing out the repeated line.

"'An hour long you'll have to look'," He continued loudly, speaking over the interruption, ignoring Hermione as she rolled her eyes at him, "'And to recover what we took, but past an hour – prospect's black, too late, it's gone, it won't come back'."

Hermione read over the notes in front of her as Harry wiped the bubbles from the side of his face, closing the egg as he did so, mouthing the words to herself, "Can you go again? Just to make sure we've got everything?"

Harry didn't bother replying, simply put one ear under water again before opening the egg.

Finally satisfied, Hermione took the egg from him, adjusting the order for the scrawled poem in front of her. Harry tried a few simple strokes to swim the length of the bathtub, mind spinning as snatches of the poem continued to replay through his mind.

"'Come seek us where our voices sound', well, obviously it's an underwater creature, and the only space on Hogwarts ground with a large body of water is —,"

"— the Black Lake," Harry finished, pausing in his laps to stare at Hermione's seated form, watching as Hermione, nodding to herself, jotted this down next to the first line.

"Underwater creatures that can sing in a language that humans understand…" She trailed off, eyes wandering over the interior of the bathroom again, catching on the stained-glass window. "Of course! Merpeople probable live in the lake, we'll need to check the library just to be sure, but I'm fairly certain that the poem is talking about Merpeople."

Harry, starting to feel a little anxious at the direct this conversation was going, decided it would be best to resume his swimming practice.

"'An hour long you'll have to look', again obvious, that's the time limit for the task, but potentially problematic…"

Harry spun around mid-stroke, an incredulous look on his face, "Potentially problematic? Potentially? More like very problematic! I can barely swim Hermione, never mind holding my breath underwater for an hour!" He snapped, causing Hermione to look up sharply from where she was annotating the clue.

"Well forgive me for helping to decipher this clue, Harry, but that is what you asked me to do, isn't it? If you didn't want to hear my thoughts on the matter then maybe you should have brought Ron with you, or just have figured it out yourself!" Slamming the water-stained piece of parchment down on the floor, Hermione stormed towards where her pyjamas were, snatching them up and stalking toward the cubicles at the back of the bathroom.

Hidden from sight, Hermione blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall, brushing furiously at her cheeks as she did a complicated little move with her wand to siphon off the excess water clinging to her. It figures, she thought bitterly as she pulled her pyjamas on, that once he got Ron back, he would do this to her; it was third year all over again, everything was always her fault!

But god, he was right. How was he supposed to hold his breath for that long? The chill that filled her had nothing to do with leaving the warmth of the bath behind; this tournament, it was brutal, no wonder there had been an age restriction, and with every piece of information she uncovered about the tasks her fear mounted. She remembered with sickening clarity the terror that had gripped her when Harry was facing down the dragon, the nagging doubt that they hadn't done enough, that she hadn't done enough to prepare him, that this was it, this was the moment she lost her best friend forever; not the dementors, not the Basilisk, not Voldemort, no, this stupid tournament that was beginning to look as if it was going to take away all the people she cared about, Viktor, who had chosen to risk his life for this, even Fleur, who, who she…

Forcing herself to take a deep breath, Hermione firmly halted that train of thought; she couldn't worry about them, she needed to focus on keeping Harry alive.

Even with her little meltdown, she had finished changing before Harry. Gathering the cloak into her arms, she dried off the piece of parchment with their notes on it that Harry had laid on the bench. Folding it neatly, she tucked it into her pocket to wait for Harry.

There was a tense moment when Harry existed his cubicle, hands hanging loosely at his sides, and the shakiness in his voice when he apologised made Hermione wonder if he, too, had been thinking about all that was expected of him, of just how high the stakes were, that failing didn't just mean extra homework.

"It's, well not fine, you can't keep taking this out on me. I know you're scared – heaven knows that I'm terrified for you as well, but I understand."

Looking ashamed of his outburst, or maybe just wanting to avoid another possible row, Harry moved to close the distance between them, seating himself on the bench she had just collected the cloak from, "So, what do you think the next task will involve, aside from needing to hold my breath for an hour in the Black Lake?"

Hermione took a seat next to him, pulling the annotated poem from her pocket once more, "Well, unless they are planning on creating an artificial body of water for the purpose of the task, I think our assumption that it will take place in the lake is safe, but as to the task itself, it seems almost primitively simple," at Harry's confused expression, she tried to organise her thoughts to convey why this task unnerved her more than the prospect of dragons.

"From what the poem says, 'we've taken what you'll sorely miss', it would seem like each of the champions will have something precious taken from them, most likely the night before the task, or even possibly the morning of, which would be cutting it rather fine, but anyway, I think it will be a case of the judges not wanting you to know what to look for until you get in the water, a kind of 'don't know what you've got till its gone' sort of thing," pausing for breath, Hermione ran her finger over the messy annotations squished in among the corrections, "and that you'll only have an hour to locate the item before returning to the surface in order to successfully complete the task."

Catching sight of the contained frustration on Harry's face, she placed a placating hand on his arm, "Yes, I know, holding your breath for an hour is impossible, but we still have two weeks to look up some sort of magical aid, but I also think we need to look into what other challenges you'll be facing in the lake, because I highly doubt that the giant squid and merpeople are its only inhabitants. I mean, even with all the precautions in place, suffering a serious injury is still a distinct possibility, not to mention that the water will be positively freezing."

"So," Harry said, running a hand through his damp hair, "I have two weeks to learn how to breath underwater and learn to defend myself against possible water creatures. Great."

Hermione just rolled her eyes at his droll tone, refraining from reminding him that they would have had more time if he had bothered to take Cedric's advice seriously earlier, "Our focus will be on the breathing thing because you're already really good at Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Professor Lupin covered a lot of underwater creatures with us, so I'll start by going through my notes to help you refresh your knowledge."

Harry flushed lightly at the compliment, avoiding the soft smile on Hermione's face by checking his watch instead; it was after midnight already. "We should probably be heading back; Ron will be waiting for us."

Grabbing the egg, Hermione handed him the cloak as she pulled the Marauders Map out, checking if the coast was clear while Harry made sure they were properly covered. "Peeves looks to have moved on, so we should be good to take the shortcut this time."

Handing the map to Harry, Hermione opened the bathroom door, moving cautiously even though she knew the coast to be clear. They were navigating a secret passageway on the fifth floor that would take them out near the Gryffindor Tower when Harry came to a sudden stop, eyes locked on the aged parchment in his hands.

"Harry?"

He just shook his head, pointing to something on the map that had just caught his attention. Brow furrowed, Hermione examined the corner of the map he was pointing to; it showed the dungeons, and there was only one dot moving around: Bartemius Crouch.

"No," she breathed, pulling the map closer, as if doubting what she had read. When Harry didn't say anything, she looked up, saw that glint in his eyes that had led to fighting trolls, to confronting werewolves, and breaking prisoners out of towers, "Harry, no. You can't be serious."

"Hermione…"

"Harry, please, no. Lets just leave it and get back to the common room, if we get caught now, detention will be the least of our concerns."

"So, what, Crouch is well enough to come snooping round the school in the middle of the night, but is too sick to come to the tournament?" He asked defiantly, and Hermione felt her pulse starting to race the way it always did right before they did something insane.

"Yes, well, I agree it is suspicious, but lets just go back to the common room and think about what this could mean, alright?" The set to his jaw said all she needed to know that it was useless to fight this.

"You don't want to go down to the dungeon to see what Crouch is up to?"

"God, yes, of course I do, but we can't."

"Yes, we can."

A soft hiss alerted them to the fact that they were no longer alone. Turning to face the source of the noise, Hermione stifled a groan at the pair of lamplight eyes seated only feet from them. With a soft chirp, Mrs Norris turned tail and fled back down the corridor. Harry seized her by the arm, ducking back through the shortcut they had just taken, map in front of his nose, their slippered feet soft against the stone floor.

Golden egg clasped beneath one arm, her other still caught in Harry's grip, she only had a split second to recognise the corridor they were now flying down, "Harry, look out!"

The warning came to late, Harry's foot sunk right through the trick step. For one heart-stopping moment, Hermione thought it might be okay, but then several things happened at once: Hermione was dragged to her knees under Harry's grip, eyes tearing up as they made contact with the hard floor; the egg went flying out from under her arm, clanging down the stairs before it cracked open, releasing an ear-splitting scream; the map flew out of Harry's hand, settling two steps below them as he tried to catch himself, pulling the cloak with him, leaving Hermione completely exposed, looking particularly comical with her knees bent in all the wrong directions, with one of Harry's trapped between them, hands gripping the back of Harry's dressing gown.

Knowing they only had seconds before Filch arrived, Hermione abandoned her attempt to pull Harry free, struggling to get her wand out, she tried to reach the map, desperate to wipe it, only for Harry to drag her back under the cloak just in time as Filch arrived at the base of the stairs.

"PEEVES!"

Hermione felt the blood drain from her face at Filch's arrival, and casting a quick glance at Harry revealed him to be just as pale as she felt. Wrapping her arms around his chest, she tried to free her legs from where Harry's ankle was caught awkwardly around her knee. Hoping against hope that the continued wailing of the egg would prevent Filch from hearing her straining to pull Harry free from the step, only to let out a weak whimper as, with a soft clink, the egg was closed, ending the cacophonic noise.

Holding her breath, she felt Harry's chest still under her hands, waiting, as she was, for Filch to burst through the tapestry, and cloak or no cloak, the map laying open just feet from them would show Filch exactly where the egg had come from.

"You've been stealing!" Filch shouted gleefully, tearing aside the tapestry, the maniacal smile on his face falling at the apparently empty staircase. He began a creaking descent, Mrs Norris on his heels, muttering under his breath with each laborious step, "I'll get you this time … Dumbledore will have no choice but to listen to me this time … yes, my sweet, we'll finally be free of that meddling poltergeist."

Hermione tightened her grip on Harry, desperately resuming her attempt to pull him free from the trick step.

"Filch? What's going on?"

Hermione's efforts became increasingly frantic as Snape appeared below them, holding the tapestry aloft as he squinted up at Filch. Harry flailed vaguely at her, worried that her little huffs of exertion would somehow give them away faster.

Stock-still, her arms trembling from the effort of keeping Harry upright, she barely dared to breath as Snape swooped up the stairs in his nightclothes, a hideous sneer on his face, eyes darting furiously around the passageway.

"It's Peeves, Professor, he threw this egg down the stairs," Filch lifted the egg in his arms, and Hermione pinched Harry as his head dropped in defeat, dragging the cloak with the movement, as Snape's expression twisted into a look of triumph, eyes visibly brightening in the darkness.

"Peeves?" Snape reached for the egg, only for his eyes to narrow once more as Filch made a slight movement to keep it out of reach, "But Peeves can't get into my office…" he murmured, eyes firmly fixed on the egg.

"This egg was in your office, Professor?" Filch asked stupidly.

"Of course not," Snape snapped, "I heard banging and wailing –"

"Yes, Professor, that was the egg –"

"— I was coming to investigate –"

"— Peeves threw it, Professor –"

"— and when I passed my office, I saw that the torches were lit and a cupboard door was ajar! Somebody has been searching it!"

"But Peeves couldn't –"

"I know he couldn't, Filch!" A vein throbbed painfully in Snape's forehead as he glared at the caretaker, each word sounding as if it were being pried from between clenched teeth, "Only a wizard could break through the spell I placed on my office, and I want you to help me search for the intruder, Filch!" His chest was heaving as if he had just run a race, and Filch looked torn, clutching the egg in his hands.

Go with him, Hermione prayed fervently, the trembling in her limbs growing with every second she was poised on the stairs, struggling to retain her hold on Harry as her palms began to sweat, just go with Snape…

But then Filch straightened his rounded shoulders, "The thing is, Professor, this is my chance to get rid of –"

"I don't care about your bloody poltergeist!" Snape roared, his arm trembling with fury as he pointed back the way he had come, "I care that it's my office that has –"

Hermione dropped her forehead onto Harry's shoulder as she registered the dull clunk, clunk, clunk, that echoed up the concealed passageway. Her heart was beating so fiercely she thought Harry must have been able to feel it drumming against his back.

"Pyjama party, is it?" Moody growled as he came into view at the bottom of the stairs, leaning heavily on his staff, and looking, curiously, Hermione noted, slightly out of breath.

Snape's jaw tightened so fiercely Hermione was surprised that he hadn't cracked any teeth, turning to face Moody with a sneer struggling to break out.

"Professor Snape and I heard noises, Professor," Filch began eagerly, clearly expecting an ally in Moody for his campaign against Peeves, "Peeves has been throwing things around, see –" he presented the egg, jowls flapping excitedly as both of Moody's eyes fixed on the Triwizard clue, "—and Professor Snape found that someone had also broken into his –"

"Shut up!" Snape hissed, looking as if he would very much like to hit the interfering caretaker as Moody moved closer, eyes swivelling to focus on the Potions Master instead.

Hermione gripped her wand tighter, the warm wood pressed tightly against Harry's ribs, eyes focused on the map lying mere feet from them, thinking furiously. If she could just get to the map, and wipe it, maybe everything would work out. She tried to shift her wand arm, gripping Harry with her free hand, only for him to slip an extra few inches, threatening to unbalance them both. As Moody's magical eye began to comb the rest of the passageway, she remembered with a painful jolt to her stomach that he could see through invisibility cloaks. The blood drained from her face at the look of intense surprise that flittered across those rugged features.

She felt Harry's sharp inhale as, he too, realised that Moody could see them, and the bizarreness of the whole situation hit her as a smile tugged at the corner of his lopsided mouth, eye whizzing over the whole scene: Filch clinging to the golden egg as if it was his firstborn child, Snape fuming in his nightclothes, and Harry and Hermione looking like a pile of puppets whose strings had gotten tangled, gripping onto each other as if their lives depended on it.

"Is that so, Snape? Someone broke into your office?" He asked, turning his full attention to the seething man.

"It is none of your concern." Snape hissed in response.

"Is that so?" Moody growled softly, moving closer to Snape's tightly wound form, the vein in his temple pulsing violently.

"I merely meant that it was most likely a student, no doubt attempting to acquire ingredients for an illicit concoction, nothing you would need to concern yourself with." An unbecoming flush appearing high on his cheeks.

"I think that would be for me to decide, wouldn't you?"

"You have no right –"

"On the contrary, Dumbledore asked me to keep an eye out for anything… suspicious, and with all the trouble that we've had so far, I think this is something that warrants further investigation, eh, Snape?"

"Dumbledore trusts me." Snape replied, struggling to keep the snarl from his voice.

"Aye, he does. But me?" Moody continued, a dangerous glint in his eye, adjusting his weight on his staff, "I'm not so keen on second chances, that there are some spots that never come off, if you know what I mean?"

Snape made a strange sort of movement, reaching for his left forearm, only to abort the action halfway through, making it look as if he had some sort of full body twitch. Casting Moody a look of pure loathing, he swept back down the stairs, clearing intending to put an end to the confrontation.

Hermione let out a sigh of relief as Snape passed Moody, only to nearly choke when Moody called out to him.

"Oh, Snape? You've dropped something," he pointed one gnarled finger at the parchment laying two steps below Harry and Hermione.

Harry hit Hermione in the face as he waved furiously, trying to alert Moody to the fact that it belonged to him; eyes watering, Hermione felt Harry slip further into the trick step at her slackened grip. Blinking back tears of pain, she had a moment of panic that everything was finally about be over as she felt her wand begin to slip from her clammy grip.

This is it; this is how we die.

A greedy expression appeared on Snape's face as he caught sight of the piece of parchment Moody was pointing to.

"Accio parchment!" Moody snatched the map from mid-air as it whipped past Snape, "My mistake, must have dropped it earlier."

But Snape looked as if all his dreams had come true as he looked from the egg in Filch's possession, to the piece of parchment now in Moody's fist, "Potter."

"Eh?"

"Potter!" Snape snarled, rushing back up the stairs, arms outstretched, grasping at the air furiously. Hermione felt her back creak ominously as she leaned as far back as possible, tugging Harry with her, desperately trying to keep them out of Snape's determined hands.

Just as the strain was beginning to get too much, her knees and shoulders screaming in protest, Moody called out to Snape, stopping him inches from Harry's heaving chest.

"There's nothing there, Snape!" Moody barked, "But I'll be happy to inform Dumbledore how quickly your mind jumped to accusing Potter."

Snape hastily lowered his hands, and Hermione felt Harry suck in a breath as his fingertips passed within millimetres of the cloak.

"I merely meant, Potter has an unfortunate habit of roaming the school after dark and given all that has happened this year, I feel it would be prudent to –"

"To what, Snape? Someone does seem to have it out for the boy, but I'm sure you've only got his best interests at heart, eh?"

The livid flush returned to Snape's cheeks, but he said nothing more as he swept past Moody, his furious footsteps echoing into the distance. Filch looked between Moody and the edge of the passageway that Snape had just exited, still clutching the egg to his chest.

"I'll be taking that, Filch."

Filch recoiled from Moody, instantly turning sulky, "But, Professor, this is evidence of Peeves's stealing –"

"And it is the rightful property of the Champion he stole it from, now" he waved the petulant caretaker closer, "hand it over."

Looking mutinous, Filch thrust the egg into Moody's hand, muttering under his breath as he too exited the passageway, "Never mind my sweet … in the morning, we'll get him."

Moody's blue eye rolled to the back of his head as he watched Filch leave, his brown eye instead running over the map now in his possession.

"Professor," Hermione gasped, Harry now having sunk so deep into the trip step that it was pressing against his hip.

Moody finally looked up, stumping his way over to them, gripping Hermione by the back of her dressing gown with one hand, and slinging the other under Harry's arm, lifting them both into a standing position. Harry immediately sunk down onto solid ground, rubbing at his sore leg, while Hermione shakily stowed her wand back inside her dressing gown, leaning against the wall.

"Alright there, Potter, Granger?" Hermione just nodded wordlessly as Harry stuttered out his thanks for helping them escape detention.

Moody grunted, his attention once more captured by the map in his hand. "Figured out the clue, then?"

Harry and Hermione shared a look, before Harry nodded; it would be rather pointless to lie given the position Moody had just found them in, having just saved their hide as well. "Yes."

"Nothing like a stroll in the moonlight to give you some fresh ideas, eh?"

"Yes, sir." Moody nodded approvingly, and Hermione took the opportunity to get back under the cloak properly, making sure both of them were fully covered.

"Say, Potter, what is this?"

"It's a map of Hogwarts, sir. It shows where everyone is at any given time, in the castle and the grounds."

"Fascinating,"

Hermione poked Harry in the side, nodding towards the map. "Professor?"

Moody grunted in acknowledgment.

"It's just that, well, we saw something strange earlier, that's why we were coming down here, you see," he hesitated, looking to Hermione for encouragement, "the map showed Mr Crouch in Snape's office."

Moody went very still at that, turning both eyes onto the anxious teens before him, "It did, did it?"

"Yes, Professor," Hermione answered, frowning slightly as Moody turned back to the map, "do you, do you know why that might be?"

Harry turned a questioning look on Hermione at her slightly accusatory tone, but Moody didn't seem to notice, too engrossed in the map.

"They say old Mad-Eye is obsessed with catching Dark wizards, but that is nothing compared to old Barty." He replied firmly, magical eye examining them both as they stood huddled under the cloak.

Hermione was beginning to feel anxious once more, wishing they could leave, because something was feeling … off.

"Professor?" Harry swallowed heavily as Moody turned both eyes onto him, "You don't think … I mean, Mr Crouch, he … well, odd stuff has been happening lately, hasn't it? And Mr Crouch he might, have, I dunno, thought something …?" He trailed off, suddenly unsure.

"Hmm. It's possible that Crouch may have been thinking something along those lines," he suddenly squinted at Harry, as if he was sizing him up, "You're a sharp lad, Potter.

"Now, I want to ask you something," he turned back to the map, as if unable to keep from looking at it for longer than a few seconds, "mind if I borrow this?"

Harry let out a relieved sigh, but Hermione stiffened at the request. "Oh, yeah, alright."

"Good Lad. Now," He added, looking at the pair of them, pale-faced and clearly exhausted, "off to bed with you lot."

Glad to finally be on their way, it took everything in Hermione not to break out into a run once they cleared the passageway, painfully aware that Moody was probably following their progress with both his magical eye and the map.

She only slowed their pace as the entrance to the Gryffindor common room came into sight.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you want me to tell Moody about Crouch?"

Hermione hesitated, turning to face him, "Look, he's a professor, he can probably find out more about what Crouch was up to than we can, especially since we've already got so much else to worry about. I just wish we hadn't given him the map."

"Why not? I mean, he just saved our necks," Harry asked, even though, he too, was feeling a little anxious about having handed over one of his prized possessions.

"Something… something just felt off about the whole situation, and I," she hesitated, chewing on her lip as they drew closer to the Fat Lady, "when he pulled us out of the step? He was holding the map in the hand he grabbed me with, and it looked, well," worry shining in her eyes, she rested her hand against the frame of the portrait, ready to wake the Fat Lady, "it looked as if Crouch's name was standing where Professor Moody should have been."

Harry was shocked as they climbed into the common room, ignoring the Fat Lady's grumbling about the late hour, finding Ron passed out in one of the armchairs. Hermione shook him awake, her face still marred by a frown from what she had just revealed to Harry.

"So? How did it go?" Ron asked through a yawn, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he stared blearily at the pair of them, looking far more alert at the matching expressions of concern on their faces. They exchanged a look laden with meaning, before Harry launched into a recap of the whole night, Hermione instead making her way to the armchair Fleur had occupied earlier that night.

As she settled into its depths she could almost convince herself that she could detect traces of the older girl's perfume; it was a silly thought really, especially since she could barely smell anything over the various scented soaps Harry had filled the bath with, but with the gentle warmth of the smouldering fire, the sound of Harry's quiet voice as he recounted their adventure for Ron, and wrapped in the remains of Fleur's perfume, she felt herself drifting off, safe at last.