Warning: There's some kissing coming up! I realized I don't have to dither for so long because legal age in Harry Potter world is 17 so... :p just a warning!
Chapter 11: The Second and Third Task
Harry buried his face into his hands, his eyesight blurry because of how long he had been cooped up inside of the library. It was nearing midnight, but Champions had the explicit approval to stay inside the library as long as they wanted, even if Madam Pince had already left.
He normally wouldn't have sacrificed sleep to continue researching because he knew how unhealthy that was. But he also knew that he didn't have time to waste.
Because he had failed Ravenclaw's Task.
He hadn't expected to. It wasn't supposed to be difficult. He had hardly worried about it until the actual Task happened.
He woke up on the day of the Task, head fuzzy and magicked, to Riddle straddling him in bed, and Riddle's long fingers weaving themselves through his hair, tugging him closer to bring their lips together.
He had been overwhelmed enough to let the older man do so, enjoying their chaste kiss for about a minute before pushing away.
Some part of his mind knew that something was wrong, but the Confunded part of his mind wanted to believe it was truth. So even though he knew something was off, he ignored it, continuing to enjoy the domestic life he had with Riddle.
It was a tricky Task. Ravenclaws valued factual evidence over everything else; when faced with everything they wanted, the jarring discrepancies of the world should be enough to jolt them out of it.
And it had. He had overthrown the Confundus Charm as soon as he saw Riddle transfigure a piece of wood into an apple, eating the fruit delicately with small bites. He only raised an eyebrow when Harry cried out in alarm. Because in the real world, it wasn't acceptable to transfigure or conjure up food because after the spells' effects ran out, it changed back to its original state. Which meant that Riddle would have bitten up pieces of wood inside of him.
Riddle only stared blankly at him as he explained, and just patted him softly on the arm and asked if he was alright after he finished talking. Harry caught on then, and as the time passed, he caught onto other strange occurrences. Facts that didn't add up with the laws of magic.
But he ignored them, because he was too caught up playing house with Riddle to actually find a way out. There was no War happening, no feud with his twin, no nosy guardians or friends; it was just the two of them, in a house Riddle bought for them. It was domestic, really, and Harry had no intention of leaving it.
When he was finally jolted out of the Task when the time limit ran out, he blinked fuzzy eyes open to the sight of the four judges, sitting calmly in front of him.
He had flushed, knowing he had failed, but more worried about the fact that they had seen his innermost desire. Of course, they hadn't been able to; it would have invaded his privacy after all. But he had failed because he hadn't found a way out; he had stayed inside while the other three Champions had easily bested the Task.
Fortunately, they still awarded points for other things, and because Harry had noticed the discrepancies, he was given a point for each one he noticed. He hadn't missed any, and it was only thanks to that he was still in the running to be first. Lockhart had gotten out in less than fifteen minutes, leaving him in first place. Harry was second, thanks to the massive lead he had from Gryffindor's Task. His brother was only a point behind him; Bones was tied with James.
So, overall, it wasn't that bad, but he was still pretty distraught over the whole thing. Because he had failed, and he couldn't live with that. Because everything was riding on him, and he would rather die than let his Intended down.
Which was why he was still studying in the library even though everyone else had already gone to sleep.
It was all in preparation for Hufflepuff's Task. The Task was different from the other two Tasks in that it took place over a month instead of a single day. Hufflepuffs were known for their hard work after all. Champions were each given a designated spot on the Quiditch Pitch, heavily warded so that only the Champion and their Head of the House could enter without consequences. Champions were expected to build up a fortress that could withstand any assault, and it was an open enough threat that Harry was left reeling on what to build.
There were so many different types of defense he could work toward. He had already designed the wards and runes he would put in place over the duration of the month, but other than that, he was at a loss. Because he wasn't sure which building material to go with to build a fortress and what shape to go with, and he was still skeptical on relying on just magic as a defense. It was screwing with him, the open interpretation of the Task; he had been so casual about Ravenclaw's and that was what made him fail last time.
And to top it all off, he was still having dreams about Riddle's lips on his. It wasn't something that was easily forgotten, and it had surprised him somewhat how fiercely he wanted the illusion to be true. To live in a world without a War, to live in a world where his brother and his Intended could actually get along...it was all too good to be actually real. But he still wanted it. He wanted Riddle's kisses; he had always dreamt about them, but it had always only been imagination. After the Task, it had become something real, something tangible, and it was all he could do to focus on Hufflepuff's Task.
He let out a frustrated noise in the deserted library, digging his nails into his palm in order to bring himself back to focus. He couldn't afford to waste anymore time.
There was a quiet cough, startling him out of his frantic speed-reading.
"Black?" asked a male voice, and Harry resisted the urge to groan, not wanting to give up time to research to talk to someone else.
"Yes?" he said, rather curtly, and finally looked up from the text in front of him. Lockhart stood in front of him, a few books cradled in his arms, and a hesitant smile on his face.
"Can I sit with you?"
Harry blinked, giving a little shake of his head in order to wake himself up further. "I don't know if that's a good idea," he ended up saying, and scowled when Lockhart sat down anyway, using one of his hands to gently push one of Harry's textbooks to the side.
"Nonsense," said Lockhart, "It's been long overdue, anyway."
"What's been?" he said, warily, after eyeing the book in front of him with wistfulness. He had been on the cusp of something, he was certain. If only he had a few more minutes alone...
"Alliances, of course. After Hufflepuff's Task is Slytherin's and that Task has never really changed throughout the years."
"A battle royale," he offered up freely, because he had an inkling of why Lockhart was there. "You want my help."
"Basically," said Lockhart. "It is your Task, after all."
"And?" he prompted, tilting his head to the side in a way he knew brought out the color in his green eyes.
Lockhart looked confused, "Well, I'm not going to partner with Potter. I think we all know how ill-equipped he will be to deal with Slytherin's Task. He's the most Gryffindor of them all."
"True," he conceded, even though he hated anyone talking bad of his little brother. "But no one put you up to this? You're coming to me because you wanted to?"
Lockhart gave a casual shrug, "No? I mean, yes? I'm not sure what you're asking, mate."
He paused, mind whirling. He was almost certain that Riddle put the Ravenclaw up to this. After his dismal performance in Ravenclaw's Task and Lockhart subsequently becoming first, there was no way that Riddle hadn't threatened the poor boy. But Lockhart's eyes looked honest, and there was more confusion in his features than anything else. And if Riddle did approach him, it would be easier to ask Riddle himself than to cause a scene with Lockhart.
"Okay," he said, quietly. "I guess we'll make a pretty good team."
Lockhart beamed, "That's the spirit." He stood abruptly, holding his hand out for Harry to shake. Harry obliged, and ended up smiling back. "Now, it's almost midnight, and I'm sure we can continue this tomorrow. See you later, Black."
He was off before Harry could get in another word, and he let out a soft sigh when he realized that Lockhart had left his books on the table. He waved a hand, his magic enveloping the books and floating them up into the air. Just when he was about to send them off to the shelves, one of the titles caught his eye.
He sent the other books to their rightful places, staring at the book's title.
A brief history of Herbology.
He blinked, wondering just why Lockhart would be looking into plants as a defense over everything else. When he had to worry about things like what building material to use and whatnot. He scoffed, wondering just what he had gotten himself into by allying with someone he didn't know at all, when his magic gave out because he was distracted, dropping the book onto the table.
It opened up to a gruesome depiction of what looked like a human baby with roots as hair. Mandrakes.
He grimaced at the sight, but when he caught the word 'fatal' in its description, he paused, scanning the text more thoroughly.
He couldn't use the mature version obviously, because it could end up killing people, but the younger version simply rendered people unconscious.
Reinvigorated, Harry started to flip through the rest of the pages, excitedly making notes of the plants that seemed dangerous, but not fatal. There were multiple plants with venom that would paralyze any predator unfortunate enough to get close and there were even some plants that could be modified to deal with different types of magic.
He couldn't help the brilliant smile that spread across his face, and he grabbed his notebook, his quill making loud scratching sounds as he designed what he wanted his fortress to look like.
That night, when he went to sleep, the frantic nervousness that had encompassed his heart since his failure at Ravenclaw's Task had disappeared.
He was spreading dragon dung on the soil surrounding his Venomous Tentacula when he felt his Intended's magic.
He blinked, sitting back on his haunches to glance over at the entrance. His fortress was more like a greenhouse than anything else; it was clear in order to let the sunlight in for the plants he was raising. He wasn't worried about the glass breaking or the material being unable to withstand magical attacks because with the plants he was growing, the chances of a magical attack actually reaching the fortress was close to zero.
The Venomous Tentacula in front of him was extremely dangerous. He had a store of the antidote for the bite in case one of the judges got bitten while testing his fortress. He didn't want anyone to die after all. The plant was notorious for its strong defense; it used its vines to keep predators away and also had the ability to fire spiky spore-like balls from their mouths at their targets.
Devil's snare, the plant that could constrict or strangle anything that touched it, was hidden underneath the ground leading to the fortress. The most common defense to the plant was either light or fire, so he had a rune there that would capture any signs of fire the moment it was lighted. The other way was to relax so that the snare would stop constriction, but the offender would fall into the pit he designed anyway, so the defense was practically foolproof.
Mandrakes littered the front of the seemingly harmless greenhouse. At any sign of disturbance, they would be pulled out magically, exposing them to fresh air and startling screams out of them, rendering anyone who heard them unconscious.
It hadn't been easy or cheap to collect the plants he wanted. It had cost a lot to buy different kinds of plants and try to breed them to create a plant more suited for his needs. He was lucky that Riddle had authorized him usage of his Gringotts account for the tournament. He had to speed the plants' growing process along, and it was only by coating them generously with most of his magic to get them to grow and interact. But the customized plants were only one part of his defense; he was only experimenting to get extra points, most of his defense was already covered by existing plants.
He needed plants that could soak up magic; plants that could somehow drain the magic out of anyone it touched. It had took him the better part of the month to finally breed it. It was a cross between a plant that drained people's magic when near them and a plant that had the tendency to cling to victims without the victims knowing.
It would be useful for the war as well, and he was delighted with the outcome. He had one of the vines wrapped around his wrist right now, letting the plant drain his magic to grow and for him to test its efficiency.
"Sir?" he called out, because it passed a few minutes and his Intended's magic still wasn't moving.
He felt Riddle's magic flare brightly for a few seconds, and then Riddle stalked in, looking irritated.
Harry jumped to his feet at Riddle's expression, making his way over to his Intended who was standing near the entrance, brooding. "What happened?"
"Your mandrakes," said Riddle, and that was explanation enough.
Harry couldn't stop the bubble of laughter that filtered out of him at Riddle's petulant look, unable to stifle it even when Riddle cut him a dangerous look. It was just the image of it that was setting him off, the crying babies surrounding the Dark Lord and threatening to render him unconscious. The thought of babies being the ones to defeat the Dark Lord was simply a hilarious one to contemplate. However, the mandrakes were still young, so their effects were weak, simply an annoyance rather than an actual threat. "Don't like babies, sir?" he asked when his laughter settled.
"They're hardly babies, Harry," scowled Riddle, crossing his arms in annoyance. "Can't they tell friend from foe?"
"They're plants," said Harry, dryly. "Underground. I'm sure they don't know what's going on at all times of their short life."
Riddle narrowed his eyes at Harry, and Harry laughed again at his Intended's expression, reaching out to pat Riddle's cheek affectionally. He paused when his hand was halfway there, realizing what he was doing was extremely out of character and extremely strange. He withdrew his hand quickly, sure that his cheeks were slightly heated, and brushed past Riddle to get to the outside of the greenhouse where his mandrakes were waiting.
His time in Ravenclaw's Task was still messing with him. He saw Riddle and he saw a partner, a partner that he had been with all his life and loved him just as fiercely as he loved him. It was difficult to reconcile the two, especially since he still didn't want to believe it was a fantasy.
He put all thoughts of that out of his head though, using his magic to spell the Mandrakes back into the safety of their holes. He stayed out a second later, saturating the Mandrakes with his magic and using generous spell castings of Herbivicus to speed the growing along.
When he went back into the greenhouse, Riddle was studying the plant that Harry had just bred, his brows furrowed in concentration. When Harry sidled up to him, Riddle glanced over at him, looking thoughtful. "I don't recognize this plant."
Harry smiled, reaching out and taking one of his Intended's hand into his own. Riddle blinked, but didn't pull away, letting Harry bring his hand closer to plant and watching curiously as the plant's vine shot out, curling around Riddle's wrist.
Riddle let out a sound of wonder, "It's taking my magic."
Harry beamed, "It was quite difficult to breed, sir, but imagine the possibilities."
"Does it have to be stationary to do this?"
Harry shook his head, pulling Riddle's hand back until the vine detached itself from the main plant. He lifted his other wrist, showing the vine on it to Riddle. "I'm planning on placing it on the judges when they first start to test the fortress. When they're taking down the wards and everything. After all, they're definitely going to have a Ward-Breaker with them when they test the fortress, but an Herbology-specialist is highly unlikely."
Riddle nodded at his words, his eyes still trained on the vine wrapped around his wrist. "Simply brilliant, Harry," he breathed, softly.
"Thank you, sir," he said, graciously, before continuing. "The magical drain is slow, right now, but I'm hoping that as I breed it with more plants it'll speed up the process. There's another plant I was thinking of, one that amplifies magical effects to a degree, that I want to try."
"And how much is that one?" asked Riddle.
Harry gave a sheepish smile, "It won't make that much of a dent in your Gringotts account?"
Riddle gave a long sigh, but he sounded more fond than anything else, the sigh hardly doing anything to Harry's nerves. Harry just smiled at the sound, and blushed furiously when Riddle murmured, "Fine, fine. What's mine is yours, after all."
"What?" he asked, sure he was bright red. "What do you mean by that?"
"You're my Heir," said Riddle, automatically, and he looked like he was going to continue when he trailed off, their eyes meeting as Riddle furrowed his brows in confusion. Harry willed his blush to go away, but he was sure it didn't work when Riddle just looked more and more baffled.
"You've been off since Ravenclaw's Task," said Riddle, quietly, as if he dared to speak any louder Harry would spook. "Is something the matter, Harry?"
Harry shook his head, "Of course not, sir, it's just the pressure. I failed the second task."
Riddle's eyebrows rose, "You're still second. You hardly failed it."
"But I couldn't leave the illusion, sir. It's embarrassing."
"The illusion," started Riddle, slowly, "had something to do with me, didn't it? It'll explain why you've been so nervous around me."
"I haven't been nervous!" he protested.
"Harry, you nearly killed one of your students when I dropped in unannounced last Tuesday."
"That wasn't my fault," he started to protest, but Riddle cut him off.
"You spilled your goblet all over Prince when I said good morning during breakfast just the other morning."
"You startled me," he said, weakly, but he knew his protests were falling on deaf ears.
"And you nearly touched my face a few minutes ago. Are you going to tell me or am I going to have to read it out of your mind again?" Riddle's tone was light, but his eyes were anything but, and his mouth was in a determined line. Riddle wasn't going to take anything but the truth as an answer.
"You said you wouldn't do that anymore." Riddle just tilted his head at his answer, staying silent, and Harry knew he had to come up with something fast. "I'm seventeen," he started, and Riddle nodded.
"Yes, Harry, I believe we established that many times already."
Harry couldn't help the glare he sent toward his Intended, and Riddle had the decency to look sheepish. "I'm seventeen and I've never been kissed."
Riddle startled, his eyes growing wide. "That's the thing bothering you?" He seemed pleased though, if the smile that was growing on his face was anything to go by.
"Are you ever going to let me finish?" he asked, exasperated.
"No, because you're being foolish," said Riddle. He leaned forward, tapping Harry's necklace where it was outlined underneath his shirt. "You have an Intended, Harry, surely you don't have to be worrying about love when you're only seventeen."
"It's not like I know for sure I'm going to find them!" he protested, even though his Intended was standing right in front of him. "It's just, I'm a teenager, and I have hormones and," he lowered his voice, his eyes going downward to look at his feet rather than at Riddle's face, "you're just very attractive, sir."
There was a profound silence after his words, and when Harry looked back up, Riddle looked thrown. His eyes were wide and his mouth pursed open in slight shock. "But that's all," he hurriedly assured Riddle, "I mean, I may have fantasized about us kissing and all, but it's only ever been that. It's not like I'm in love with you or anything."
At the end of his words, he covered his face with his hands; he didn't want to see Riddle's expression change, didn't want to see disgust coat his Intended's expression.
He startled when he felt a gentle touch on his hands, and he obediently lowered them, and blinked again in shock when he saw how close Riddle was to him. "Sir?" he breathed out, and Riddle's expression looked fond.
"I'm still your Professor," said Riddle. "And I'm older than you. I surely shouldn't be encouraging all of this."
"All of this?" he asked, heart beating erratically.
"Your little crush on me," said Riddle, looking like the cat who had just gotten the cream. "Or have I misinterpreted your words?"
"I don't have a crush on you. You're completely wrong, sir," he said, a tad petulantly, but Riddle just chuckled, obviously not believing a word he said.
"And surely your Intended wouldn't mind if you got some experience first, right?" he paused, chuckling, a sly smirk on his face at his words. Riddle paused, looking as if he was waiting for Harry to say something, but when Harry stayed silent, just shrugged and pressed even closer. "I would very much like to kiss you right now, Harry, if that's alright."
Instead of answering, Harry moved forward first, pressing a chaste kiss on Riddle's lips. He felt as if his heart was going to burst at the contact, just the knowledge that right now he was kissing Riddle was enough to make him feel as if he was flying, as if nothing could hurt him. Riddle responded immediately, kissing him back and biting gently at his lower lip, letting out a sound of triumph when Harry's mouth parted in shock. Riddle pressed his tongue in, mapping the areas of Harry's mouth with ease and sending sparks of pleasure through Harry's spine as the kiss deepened and continued.
It felt like forever before Riddle was pulling away, and Harry opened his eyes to the sound of his Intended chuckling softly. "You look like a right mess," said Riddle, smirking, and Harry blushed, using his hands to smooth out the wrinkles in his shirt in an attempt to look less disheveled.
"No thanks to you, sir," he retorted with.
"I think it's time you stop calling me sir when we're alone," said Riddle, thoughtfully. "After all, we did just kiss."
He blinked, "Then what would I call you?"
Riddle took a step forward until they were in each other's personal spaces again, his head tilting forward until his lips were ghosting against Harry's.
"Call me Tom," he whispered, and then he was kissing Harry for the second time.
"You alright there?" asked Lockhart, flipping a page in the large text in front of him. He didn't seem to be really waiting for an answer though, his eyes scanning the text instead of looking over at Harry.
Harry blinked up from where he was casually reading up on different types of wards, "Why wouldn't I be?"
"You haven't turned a page for the past ten minutes," Lockhart pointed out.
"Oh," said Harry. He had been caught up thinking about Tom, and he had already finished his fortress days ago. He was only really in the library to research some more on wards just in case he missed something. Lockhart had joined him after Madam Pince had left, as he had been doing for the past week or so, and Harry had gotten used to his presence.
"Do you want to talk about it?" asked Lockhart, patiently. "I've been told that I'm a good listener."
"You?" he asked, a bit baffled.
"That's rude," said Lockhart, but he didn't seem offended. "Contrary to popular belief, I'm not the social peacock everyone seems to think I am."
"But," he started to protest, and Lockhart sighed.
"Okay, I admit, I may be a bit louder than normal people. But hey, that's part of my charm."
"Charm, right," he said, dryly.
Lockhart didn't seem to notice his tone, just looking up from his text and beaming sunnily at Harry. "So, who's the lucky girl?"
"What?"
"I'll recognize that look anywhere. You're in love."
"I'm not," he protested, but when Lockhart just sent him a knowing smile, he gave a soft sigh. "I really don't want to talk about it."
"Who else are you going to talk about it to? Prince? Sorry to say, but I doubt he'll be much help."
He scowled, but inside, he was thinking about Lockhart's offer. Because the thing is, despite how knowledgeable he was in some matters, he was completely lost when it come to matters of the heart. And Lockhart was right, Severus wouldn't be much help if he told him about the newest development in Riddle and his relationship. He would simply claim it was true love and that they were meant to be, and that information was completely useless to him. Because it wasn't true, no matter how much he wanted it to be.
"You won't talk to anyone about it, right?"
Lockhart grinned, "That's my boy."
"I'm not your boy," he scowled, and Lockhart just grinned back at him.
"You're awfully uptight, Black. Do you want me to swear on my magic or something?"
"Nothing that drastic," he said.
"Good, because I think even that would have been too much for you. Slytherins, I swear."
Harry rolled his eyes, wiggling his fingers and casting a privacy charm around them. Lockhart stiffened, probably feeling the foreign magic settling around them. "There's someone. He's older, and it's not like a conventional relationship really. It's kinda weird? I mean, he kissed me the other night, but it's more like a lesson than anything else? Because I've never kissed anyone before."
"Calm down," said Lockhart, but he was smiling, reaching out to pat Harry on the shoulder. "It's okay, I'm not going to judge you, though I am somewhat surprised you're still a virgin."
Harry flushed, his cheeks heated, "What? Why?"
"You're kinda the talk of the school," said Lockhart, but there was no ill intent behind his words. "All the girls and boys want you."
"You're not, uhm, a virgin?"
Lockhart threw his head back and laughed, and because the library was deserted no one came to scold them. "Merlin! You're seventeen, aren't you? Of course I'm not a virgin."
"Oh," said Harry, feeling completely out of his depth. "Then you found your Intended?"
"You can lay with other people who's not meant to be yours," said Lockhart. "It's not as if it's frowned upon, you know. And besides, my Mark's gone." At Harry's shocked look, he continued. "It's not exactly a secret, so I don't mind telling you. Just woke up one day and it was gone. No one knows why, and my magic's still intact, so it's not like my Intended died. But enough about me, we're talking about you."
He wanted to ask, but Lockhart's expression was guarded so he thought better about it. He took the subject change for what it was, figuring if Lockhart could be so candid with him, he could afford to do the same. "We've known each other for a while, and I've always thought he was really handsome. So when he kissed me, I kinda rolled with it?" It was a little off the mark since he really did like Riddle, but he didn't want to give too many of his secrets away.
"Oh," said Lockhart, sounding as if he figured something out. "Oh," he repeated, looking somewhat surprised. "You really don't have to worry about it. He likes you back. And may I say, I always thought you were straight. Never really pinned you as queer."
"What?" he blinked, and then shook his head. "I don't think you know who I'm talking about."
Lockhart nodded, "'Course I don't. You don't have to affirm anything, Black. But don't worry, he's experienced. He'll take good care of you."
"Er, I really doubt we're thinking of the same person."
"It's okay," said Lockhart, miming zipping his mouth shut. "I won't tell a soul. We're good friends, you know."
Harry sighed, "Who are you thinking about?"
"Slytherin, just graduated, long blonde hair? We had an affair last year, you know. The things that boy can do with his tongue," he paused, winking rather salaciously at Harry, "I don't think you have to be worried at all."
"You're really off the mark," said Harry, but Lockhart just smiled genially at him.
"If you need tips, you just have to ask. That's what a friends-with-benefits thing is, after all."
Harry sighed, wondering why he thought Lockhart would be any help at all. Though he was a little surprised that Lucius and Lockhart had a thing, he was more annoyed at the fact that Lockhart thought the two of them were together. "Friends-with-benefits?"
"You do know about sex, right?"
"Of course," he scowled. "I'm not that innocent."
"Could've fooled me," said Lockhart, and when Harry glared at him, simply held up his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay, don't be too mad. It's just a relationship with benefits you know. Like sexually without any feelings getting in the way."
"And," he paused, still feeling completely out of his depth, "what if I want feelings to get in the way?"
"Then just talk to him. You're both adults, you know. Don't have to keep tiptoeing around each other."
"But what if he doesn't like me back? What if it ruins everything?"
"In my experience, if you have feelings for him and continue to fool around with him like this, it's going to hurt more in the long run. But if you think you don't have a chance and you think you can take it, then why not roll with it? I mean, you clearly need the experience, and sometimes feelings result when you continue to sleep with each other."
"And this happened to you before?"
Lockhart paused, and for a second looked wistful, before nodding. "Yeah," he said, quietly. "Yeah, it did."
"I'm sorry," said Harry, and Lockhart just shook his head.
"Nah, don't be. It was a long time ago. Anyway, if you need any real advice," he waggled his eyebrows at Harry, "don't hesitate to ask. Big brother Gilderoy here will teach you all you need to know."
"Right," he said, dryly, rolling his eyes and dismissing the privacy charm with a wave of his hand.
There were six people testing his fortress. There were the four judges, all known respectively for their skill in magic, one Ward-Breaker as he had guessed, and one Healer, who could hopefully help them out of any tricky situations.
He wished them luck, letting them know cheekily that he had antidotes for them in case they needed it. The Gryffindor glared at him, obviously still feeling some House Rivalry from his earlier years, but Evan Rosier threw his head back and laughed, patting him companionably on the shoulder as the six of them got ready to take down his fortress. Harold, the Minister, awkwardly let him know how nice of it was him to ensure no one would take permanent harm, while the Hufflepuff judge rolled her eyes, mouthing to Harry, "I'm sorry for this awkward one." Harry stifled his laughter, sharing a secret smile with the Hufflepuff judge, before moving aside to let them in.
He wasn't going to follow them, but magic allowed the Tournament makers to project a image into the air, broadcasted from down below. He was supposed to sit near the fortress just in case something went horribly wrong, which he was somewhat bitter about because he wanted to sit with his friends to calm his nerves, but he figured they were somewhat correct in their way of thinking.
He sat there, watching the screen while biting his lips nervously.
All six of them had their wands out, dismantling his wards with ease thanks to the young Ward-Breaker with them. He didn't mind though, because unbeknownst to them, his creation was attaching itself to their ankles. He couldn't see it because the image wasn't focusing on it, but he believed in his plants and knew they would do what he wanted them to do.
Once they were in, they proceeded slowly, and he grinned when he saw the Hufflepuff, the one who took charge and was leading the procession, shriek and disappear underground. The Healer behind her stopped immediately, but a long blue vine caught her ankle anyway, dragging her down. Rosier, who was third, cast a complicated charm, sealing the hole and preventing the Devil's Snare from taking any more victims.
Harry scowled, knowing that if he failed the Task, it would be because of Rosier. Rosier was already rearranging the procession, making them surround the Ward-Breaker in an attempt to keep her safe. It made sense though, especially since they didn't know if there were any Wards left.
They continued, now more cautious. They had let down their guard when they had taken down his Wards; Harry had purposely made them with horrible spellwork, knowing they would scoff and look down on him. He had made the weak point easy to find and easy to dismantle so they wouldn't notice the vines wrapping around them.
They triggered the Mandrakes next, and the Minster dropped like a stone, only held up by the Gryffindor as the Ward-Breaker and Rosier cast a strong silencing charm. Because they were silenced, Rosier and the Ward-Breaker made quick work of the Mandrakes, forcing them back into their holes. They dithered over the Minster for a while, casting a series of spells to make him wake up. The Minster stirred, but before they could continue, Harry's Venonmous Tentecula attacked, one of its spiky balls hitting the Ward-Breaker directly in the back. She flew, landing directly on the Minister, and Rosier spun, his cloak fanning out as he brandished his wand in front of him.
He cast Diffindo, cutting the approaching arm in half, and the Gryffindor followed suit, casting the same spell on a different part of the plant. Harry winced as he saw his plant get decimated, but couldn't help a slow smirk when his other one attacked, wrapping itself around the Gryffindor and getting a nasty bite off.
Rosier froze, his face full of horror, before he reacted quickly, slicing the offending plant in half before hurrying over to the downed Gryffindor. And promptly startled when a protected potion vial floated down toward him, set in place by one of Harry's more complicated spells. Rosier nodded in thanks, before pouring the vial down his fellow judge's throat.
The Gryffindor didn't stir, but Rosier stood anyway, knowing he had to continue with the Task. He looked determined and grim, approaching the door of the fortress with small steps. If any of the testers reached the inside of the fortress, then the Champion forfeited points.
He bit his lip worriedly, watching as Rosier ran straight into his last defense, a complicated Ward that would impede his forward path with an invisible wall. It wasn't unbreakable though, so Harry crossed his fingers, hoping that his plant had enough time to work.
Rosier was just about to do the last flick of his wrist, when he paused, his eyes wide in disbelief. He flicked his wrist, but nothing happened, and Rosier stood there in shock.
He placed his hands on the invisible wall, and when he realized there was no way to get through it without magic, threw his head back and laughed gleefully. "Simply brilliant," he said as he motioned the tournament planners to come get him and the rest of the downed testers. "I have no more magic left," he said out loud for the audience's sake, and it only felt like a few moments later before he was approaching Harry.
"How?" he questioned.
He knew he wouldn't be able to keep his creation a secret, so he didn't hesitate much to tap his own ankle to prompt Rosier to glance down with wide eyes. Rosier lifted his trousers, gaping at the small yellow vine that was wrapped securely around his ankle. "It drains magic?"
Harry nodded, "Bred it myself."
Rosier let out a low whistle, "You have my vote, Black."
He ambled away, still grinning madly, and Harry just shook his head at the sight, even as his own smile occupied his face.
The judges looked worse for wear when they were seated at the judges platform. To make it fair, they tested one fortress a day; the order had been decided by their ranking and the amount of time had been adjusted by letting Lockhart know about the fortress a day before Harry did. That way all Champions had an equal thirty days to create their fortress.
Rosier was still grinning, but the Gryffindor looked murderous, the angry gash on his neck serving as a reminder of the reason why. "Oh lighten up," said the Hufflepuff. "It's not like you were touched by slimy blue vines."
"Excuse me?" said the Gryffindor. "Do you see this?" he motioned at his neck, and she just laughed in response.
"I didn't get to see much," said the Hufflepuff judge, "but after viewing the memory, it's quite obvious you were ingenious in the building of your fortress. However, you limited yourself by not making it dangerous enough, so it's an eight for me." She shot the number into the air.
"Not dangerous enough?" said the Gryffindor, sounding scandalized. "Just for that," he paused, shooting the number ten into the air. "I nearly died," he said, "so against my better judgment, full points from me."
"I don't think anyone needs an explanation from me," said Rosier, lazily flicking his wand and spelling the number ten.
The Minister for Magic still looked groggy, and his speech was slurred. "The fortress itself wasn't built to withstand assault, and I think it was dangerous to leave the defense to solely plants. If we had one more person, we would have gotten through." He shot the number nine into the air.
He wasn't sure what to make of his final score, especially since the other Champions' scores wouldn't be released until after Bones' fortress was tested. But when the Host let out a whoop of joy, he smiled.
Even if he wasn't first place, Slytherin's Task was next, and there was no way he was going to lose that one.
A/N: As always, thanks so much for all the wonderful reviews, favs, and alerts! It really makes me so happy, and inspires me like no other :p. I'm 5k into the next one, so expect that to come by either next Monday or Friday.
Also, if you think Riddle is a little OOC because he kissed Harry, please wait! I'll explain everything in the next next chapter :) After the last Task is done (next chapter) we'll be moving onto the Confession scene, then the beginning of the War, and then a time skip to age Harry a bit more, to the end of the War and then the fight with the Muggles! Also, it'll be just kissing until Harry is older. i've thought long and hard about it and anything sexually explicit will be uploaded in a different story to keep this story's rating low ^^.
Love you all, and thank you so so much for all the reviews! I feel like I'm writing a fantasy book and I'm still amazed that you guys are all willing to read this! :D.
