And the neck her head's on is a tunnel of dawn
But darkness will come
But darkness will come
For sure, it's gonna come
- Insect Eyes by Devendra Banhart
Chapter One: The Third TaskHe looked awful.
Long wrinkles stretched across his forehead, a definite tension held his eyes in a hard stare, and the corners of his lips were drawn back, slowly stretching further and further across his face. The time to enter the maze was rapidly approaching, and his expression grew more contorted as the seconds ticked by. Harry looked to see if any of the others had noticed, though frowned when he saw their inattentive expressions. Walking over to the boy, he twirled his wand in a nervous manner, slightly bending to the side to get a better look. Now closer, Harry was able to discern the oddly pallid complexion and occasional shiver.
"Diggory?" No answer. "Cedric? You okay?"
"I think I… I'm-" He winced and wrapped an arm around his stomach, bending forward and paling further. For a moment he just stood there, shaking from an invisible chill and wincing from obvious pain. Harry couldn't stop disgust from springing across his features as Cedric heaved, knowing exactly what was going to follow.
"Dumbledore!" Harry turned from the unpleasant scene and began searching for his mentor, finally calling his attention. The man rushed from a small grouping of teachers to assess the situation, grimacing when he saw his very ill pupil.
"Mr. Diggory? Mr. Diggory?" Cedric groaned and crumbled to the ground, still clutching his stomach. Acting fast, Dumbledore conjured a floating stretcher and called for help to move his student, finally rushing him back to the castle.
By now an anxious murmur had spread through the crowd, growing louder as the minutes crept by. As the noise reached a deafening height Harry began to walk away, heading in the direction of the Champion's Tent. Once he pushed the flap aside and stepped into the quaint area, he sat on a small makeshift bed, tugging his glasses off and resting his head on the back of his hands, spectacles dangling from his fingers.
He was completely exhausted- he couldn't get to sleep or couldn't stay asleep, or he'd wake from a nightmare. Hermione had deduced many causes, three being fear, stress, and anxiety. Harry supposed she was right, what with the Tournament and all, but he still felt an odd sense of foreboding… he just couldn't pinpoint the problem…
"Harry?" He jumped and looked up, but quickly calmed upon recognizing his best friends, Ron and Hermione.
"Hey, you all right?"
"Yeah." Harry said, nodding his head. "I'm fine, just tired." Hermione sat on the cot and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Ron pulled up a chair with his warm, though slightly worried smile in place. "Do you know what happened to Diggory?"
"No, Dumbledore's not come back yet. Hermione thinks it might be food poisoning or something like that."
"Why?"
"It's just a theory- that or he's caught a stomach flu…" Hermione shrugged her shoulders, letting her hand slip from Harry's own. "How do you feel Harry? Sick at all?"
"I'm fine."
"You sure?"
"Positive." Hermione nodded and picked at nonexistent lint on her sleeve.
"Think they'll go ahead with the Task?" Ron asked, a crease along his brow.
"… Probably… I mean, I think they have too." This statement from Harry was met with a brief period of silence.
"Harry, you look horrible…"
"Ron! Try and be a little conservative!"
"What?" Ron raised his calloused hands in a defensive gesture. "He does… I'm just being honest- no offense mate." Harry laughed and shook his head.
"He's right, I look like shit."
"Language."
"Sorry." The three sat silently for a moment before Hermione jumped up and grabbed Harry's arm, forcing him to stand as well.
"While we've got the time, we might as well review." Harry groaned and Ron just snickered, though went silent from a sharp, "Quiet!"
"Okay, Harry, do you remember what to do?" When she only received a nod in response, she glowered, thus forcing the words from Harry's mouth.
"Yeah, I do. The plant used to create the maze is called a Vindex, or deliverer, and from what you were able to gather it has a severe sensitivity to light." He mumbled, "So, I'll cast Fulmen, which will eat away at the plant, but before that I have to cast Iter so I know where the center of the maze is."
"Very good!" Harry gave a sort of half-smile and a slight bow as Hermione clapped her hands, pleased with his explanation.
"Will all competitors and students please return to the maze." They all jumped at the loud, booming voice, reminding Harry of his days at primary school. As they began to walk to their designated area, Ron pulled him slightly to the side.
"Hey… be careful in there, yeah? Your name didn't get in the cup on its own, you know? Just-" He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I dunno man, it just seems iffy to me… Watch yourself, yeah?" Harry attempted a smile, though it faltered.
"I know. There's nothing I can do about it now-"
"Hurry up!" Harry and Ron grimaced, hurrying over to the spot Hermione was waiting. Dumbledore was standing at a raised podium, a grave expression on his face.
"I'm terribly sorry to say the Cedric Diggory will be unable to compete-" He was interrupted by loud groans and angry shouts, many students incredibly disappointed. "Quiet please… quiet." The students silenced and Dumbledore continued. "As I said it is very unfortunate, as Mr. Diggory seems to have fallen awfully ill. Regrettably, the tournament cannot be delayed until he is healthy again. Champions, take your places at your selected entrances." Dumbledore, looking forlorn, stepped down and headed in Harry's direction. Harry frowned at the heated stares he was receiving, but ignored them, having more important matters at hand.
"Remember what I said." Ron patted him on the back and walked away.
"Good luck Harry!" Hermione gave a half-hearted smile and a small hug, then walked to her seat next to Ron. Harry turned from the audience and looked towards the maze, the entrance dark and looming. A sudden, strong sense of apprehension washed over him; his stomach was turning and his throat was dry, Ron's words still strong in his mind.
"Are you ready Mr. Potter?" He didn't feel like it.
"Yeah, I think so." Harry hadn't turned his eyes from the entrance as Dumbledore spoke.
"I would strongly suggest growing a pair of eyes in the back of your head. Something is amiss..." Harry frowned and looked to Dumbledore, but the man had already walked off, offering no further explanation. This did little to appease his fear.
His throat tightened and his hands shook, waiting for the red flares to enter the sky, signaling the competitors to enter. He closed his eyes and took deep, steadying breaths, trying to calm his nerves. He jumped as a blast sounded near by, the telltale pops and crackles above alerting him to the crimson sky.
Opening his eyes he stepped inside, hands twitching as he saw the others disappear. He pulled out his wand and came to a stop at a hedge wall. He drug his wand through the air to the left in a simple arc, then quickly jerked it back to the right, "Iter!" A giant, glowing white arrow burst into view, fortunately lighting his path. Harry thought strongly of the center of the maze, making the arrow shudder and change positions, pointing to his right. He followed this path for a while, eventually stopping as he came to another wall.
He swung his wand in a tight circle, hand twisting in a zigzag pattern at two sides, then yelled, "Fulmen!" A sterling burst of silver erupted from his wand, bits of electricity sparking around the edges. It struck at the hedge with a strong whap and a buzz, slowly eating away at the light-shy barrier. It finally grew to accommodate his size, and crouching low he crawled through. He continued this for a while, eventually pausing to take a break, feeling oddly drained.
He leaned his head back and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly through parted lips. He was amazed at how high the vines weaved into the sky, seemingly endless; the scent of freshly cut grass was heavy, offering only mild comfort. He turned his eyes from the sky to look to his right.
Something was standing there.
He froze in horror as his pupils began to dilate. The creature was tall with hunched shoulders and a warped, grimy face. Where a mouth should be there was only a pale stretch of skin; where one usually had a nose there was only a small, gaping hole; it's eyes rolled about in their sockets with a crazed frenzy, only pausing momentarily to focus on it's prey, showing yellowed, dirty, film covered irises. It was crouching before Harry only a few feet away.
A sharp, piercing scream broke through the air- it might have been Fleur. She continued to scream from some other part of the maze, eventually shooting a large emergency spark into the air. Noticing the creature turn it's sightless eyes away, Harry began to run. His breath was coming in short gasps as he rounded corner after corner, hoping he wasn't being followed.
A jolt of fear pushed a yelp from his mouth as a large, twitching arm wrapped around his stomach. He was lifted into the air and thrown, landing painfully on his knee before falling face-forward to the ground. It popped and grew hot before numbing, egging Harry's panic even further. He attempted to move but a boot-clad foot slammed painfully onto his back, holding him in place as the creature bent down to hover over the young Potter. A knee came to rest at Harry's side and his arms were held in a tight grip. Hot air blew against the back of his neck- a rotten stench was nauseating him. His eyes frantically searched for his wand even though he couldn't see through the darkness.
For a brief moment the being did nothing, before eliciting a pained cry from Harry as something sharp and cold dug into his neck. He felt a trickling of blood race down the straining muscles and skin, eventually dripping to the grass. The world around him began to swirl, his vision blurring and eventually going black.
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A strange rattling clattered close to his ears. His lungs were painfully tight and his eyes were burning and aching. The pain in his neck seemed to weave out of the area and all across his body, leaving him sickened and dizzy. As he stumbled through the maze, no certain destination in mind, he felt as if his world was about to come to a definite end.
The tall walls of the maze began to sway, the wind singing through the cracks and holes in the leaves. No light shown from above, having disappeared behind thick, rolling clouds. He eventually, and rather unluckily, came to an opening, and past the high silver archway was a golden cup. It sat precariously atop a small pillar, beckoning Harry to come forward.
He did so, his body and movements unsteady. His breath came in short, shallow gasps, causing his lungs to burn and his vision to darken. He coughed, forcing himself to move closer to the deceptive beacon. As he fell before the object, his hand raised to the gold, a sudden feeling of terror ripped at his stomach.
But it was too late. A sharp tug at his navel set him lurching forward and into an unfamiliar place- a dark and unhappy place. The cup rolled away, leaving him to lie on his own in a bed of little blue flowers.
"Well, what have we here?"
"He's early… and he looks like hell."
"Do you think he'll live long enough to make it through this?"
"Of course."
"It's not time yet, though…" Harry squinted his eyes and turned his face into the ground, trying desperately to ignore what was happening. He began to shake as footsteps approached, standing near his body. He felt one foot step over his torso, the person falling to his knees and straddling in upper back. And with horror, Harry realized he was without his wand.
"My, my… what's this?" Harry nearly screamed as the person circled the wound on his neck, causing it to once again bleed. He could feel it swim down his neck and into his hair. Suddenly the hand disappeared, instead grabbing his bony shoulder and flipping him on his back.
"You have something in mind?"
"M-hmm. He's quite a pretty one isn't he?"
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"Oh god… what happened too him?" Harsh sobs echoed throughout the room, every clanking and clanging noise seemingly amplified.
"Please! I need you to keep your distance!" The woman's voice was strangely familiar, rushed and frantic. "It won't heal! Albus he's losing too much blood!" Harry briefly opened his eyes, bright lights blinding him. For a moment he felt nothing, before searing, burning pain tore a scream from his throat.
"Oh god please, stop! Stop! Help me please!"
"TORPIDUS SOPOR!" His world once again withdrew and became dark.
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"I can't believe I let this happen to him… it was my duty to protect him, and look what's happened! I've failed…"
"Sirius please… don't do this to yourself… "
"He was raped for fucks sake! Jesus, who knows what else they did to him! And not to mention Voldemort! God, he's back… They- they…" The black-haired man let out a burst of air, his head dropping into his hands and his shoulders shaking. "Jesus Christ…" His weary friend wrapped a consoling arm around his back, feeling just as bad as the other. "And what the hell happened to his neck?" He screamed, one again lifting his head. "What- did they fuck him there too?" This question was directed to the sage, though saddened Dumbledore.
"Oi!" A harsh backhand in the face quieted the man. "How dare you say something like that! What the fuck's wrong with you? What if he'd heard you? How do you think he would have fucking taken it? So just shut up! Shut up! We all feel bad, but nowhere near as bad as him!" Ron's breath was coming in harsh and ragged gasps. Though his voice had lowered, his words were still heated. "Hell Sirius, we're all bloody blaming ourselves, but for Christ's sake, at least we can keep our damned mouths shut!" Ron's face crumbled, his fists balled at his sides and his mouth pulled back into a snarl. Hermoine rushed to his side, and although she was trying to hold her friend back, the look she was giving Sirius suggested otherwise. The guilt-ridden animagi simply sat with is head to the side, ashamed.
"All of you! Sit down and be quiet!" The harsh command came from McGonagall, her words almost instantly ordering the rowdy crowd. "What has happened is terrible. A young man has been taken advantage of and used in more ways than any of us wish to fathom. But we must stay strong for him! So pull yourselves together immediately!" She 'harrumphed' and turned her head away from the rest, covering her mouth and closing her eyes as the weary spheres suddenly filled. Dumbledore sighed, pulled his glasses off, and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"I'm going to retire for the night. I suggest you all do the same. He will not wake for a while yet." All present felt themselves falter as Dumbledore spoke, for his voice was drained and cheerless. His once twinkling eyes were now clouded and dark, his frame slumped and his age showing. He left the infirmary and retreated into his study, nearly falling into his seat. As his old familiar, Fawkes, flew from his perch and landed at his side, Dumbledore brought a hand up to rub at his forehead and cover his glossy eyes.
"How did I let this happen?"