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Last time on Let the Games Begin:
Terry realized with a sigh that it would be up to him to help the blond. Stifling a grimace, he enervated the Slytherin and briskly reversed the hexes he'd been hit with, completely disregarding his humiliated protests.
Then he straightened and called out: "I think we should start moving."
The dark, damp atmosphere under the canopy of trees wasn't very inviting but they started off nonetheless, marvelling at the incredible variety of trees that was already visible from the very edges of the forest.
They hadn't taken five steps when a pained cry from their back made them instantly whirl, wands at the ready.
Malfoy had fallen to his knees and was clutching the silver necklace Ishizu had given him rather desperately. Terry was hit by the chilling realization that his grey eyes had acquired the same unnerving milky quality that he had found so unsettling in Ishizu.
A moment later, the Gryffindors sprang into action.
"Vision!" called out Potter, already by the blond's side, holding him upright with gentleness.
Granger was casting some sort of protection spell Terry couldn't recognize around them, standing straight and clearly on guard. Longbottom was kneeling in front of the blond, clutching his arms tightly and speaking softly.
"Malfoy, Malfoy, can you hear me? That's it, Malfoy, breathe… that's good… a deep breath… it's alright, it's going to be alright…"
Terry felt rather useless.
Malfoy was coming out of whatever seizure had taken him, gasping and gulping deep mouthfuls of air. "T-top r-right", he stammered. "G-gold… big, b-big… and it's in the top right hole…"
"Okay", crooned Longbottom soothingly. "Anything else?"
Malfoy shook his head and immediately grimaced, as if moving was painful. "T-too conf-fused…"
"Alright", said Potter just as softly. "Don't worry, I think it's over now…"
"Oh, and you would know, h-how, exactly?" snarked Malfoy, though he was too breathless to make it truly nasty.
Longbottom and Potter shared a glance that spoke volumes; too bad it was in a language Terry wasn't familiar with.
Something stood out clear as day to him, however: "You're used to this", he stated flatly.
They all turned to look at him, questioningly.
"You… this…" he made a generic motion to indicate the whole situation. "You've done this before, calmed someone down after a… a vision."
Longbottom chuckled weakly. "Let's say Harry has given all of us some practice."
"Potter?" blinked Terry, honestly surprised. He was under the impression that the green-eyed boy loathed Divination.
"Figures Perfect Potter would be a Seer…" said Malfoy bitterly. Terry was struck by the sudden insight that the blond was jealous – terribly so. It was probably spoiling Ishizu's gift for him, the idea that his rival had such an ability naturally.
But Potter denied it immediately. "No. Not a Seer… definitely not. And I don't get visions like yours, glimpses of the future." He shook his head ruefully. "No, I… I sometimes get to see what Voldemort's doing at the moment."
Terry and Malfoy turned to him with identical expressions of utter shock.
Potter shrugged, uneasy. "It's… well, it kind of happens when he's feeling a particularly strong emotion… like when he's torturing someone, for instance…"
"You… can see when the Dark Lord tortures someone", said Malfoy very slowly, in a tone of complete disbelief.
"Not always", denied Potter defensively, "but yeah… it happens."
"It happens an awful lot", muttered Longbottom despondently.
"Yes, well." Potter shrugged, as if to say it wasn't a big deal. "It's not as bad as it sounds." He ignored the snorts from Longbottom and Granger. "Though if Avery doesn't shape up… I swear, that idiot is under Cruciatus more often than…" he trailed off, shrugging again.
Malfoy mouthed the name 'Avery' in a daze, staring at Potter as if he'd never seen him before.
"Anyway, these… nightmares… visions… whatever… tend to wake the entire dorm up, unfortunately, so my friends kind of have experience with, huh, helping me with the after-effects and such…" Potter was babbling, noted Terry, and looking awfully guilty: just what was going through that mind of his? Did the moron expect them to blame him for something like this? If Terry was to be completely honest, the only thought that rang in his mind at the moment was 'thank God it's not me'!
Longbottom, who'd stepped aside for a moment, came back with a colourful flower, the size and rough shape of a cup. He was trying rather unsuccessfully to cast the aguamenti spell. "Ah, damn… I usually manage it when I need to water my plants… aguamenti! Aguamenti!"
Terry moved to help him, but a jet of water had finally exploded from Longbottom's wand, dousing an area of soil, but also effectively filling the cup-like flower.
"Here!" said the tall boy triumphantly, holding it out to Malfoy.
The blond sneered and started to reject it, but Potter squeezed his shoulder sharply: "It'll make you feel a whole lot better, trust me on this."
Reluctantly, the Slytherin drank it down, trying unsuccessfully to hide how thirsty he really was. Terry noticed that what little colour he usually had was returning to his pale cheeks.
"So", said Granger briskly. "Either something gold and big with holes, or something gold inside the holes of something big, did I get that right?"
Malfoy stared blankly at her. Then he reluctantly nodded. "It was something very big and gold, and I desperately wanted something that was in the top-right hole of the thing. Don't know what, though. And I couldn't see clearly, it was too dim."
"Well, we'll keep an eye out for it", said Longbottom firmly.
"Just tell us when you're ready to go, alright, Malfoy?" Potter squeezed the other boy's shoulder one last time and got up, moving a little way to the side to scrutinize the surrounding vegetation, and the strong and vibrant canopy layer that the crowns of the taller trees formed above their heads.
It was only a few moments before the blond was able to stand on somewhat firm legs and they started moving again, Terry taking the lead and walking swiftly on the rich unstable compost that was the forest's ferns-covered ground.
He rounded an enormous trunk, covered in moss and climbing rattans, that he was almost sure was a mahogany tree, only to stop abruptly in his tracks.
Beyond it, the natural environment was cleft by two paths, splitting towards their left and right, that could be nothing but magically built.
Aside for going in different directions, they were identical, and made of a series of gigantic lemon yellow squares, not unlike those of a common board game in shape and arrangement, but huge – the five of them could have easily fit on each of them without having to stand too close to each other.
Terry didn't even try and guess what material they were made of: it wasn't stone, didn't look like wood, was too rough for glass and felt too natural to be plastic…
On the first square, the only one the two diverging paths had in common, lay innocently a pair of dice, one black with white dots, the other white with black dots, both more or less the size of a quaffle.
"Well", commented Terry, dazed. "That explains all the rules about dice rolls."