A/N: This is a really long chapter. I know you know that already. When I was writing it, I decided that its best presentation was for you, my readers, to get it all at once. Well, most of it. ;-) An extra special tip of the hat to moregoth, who caught review #1000! I am all smiley, here!

My thanks, forever and always, to Katmom the Most Amazing Woman of Win, who reads all this stuff ages before it goes into public view and sends me nice emails.

Chapter Fourteen: Third Task

Late May, 1997

"Hermione, where were you?" Luna inquired, her gaze sharp, for once, and inquisitive. "Harry and Viktor were looking for you to go running, as it was such a lovely morning."

Luna had ambushed her outside the girls' carriage whilst Hermione was on her way to dinner. "Um, I had to take a trip. It was kind of a secret, though."

Luna laughed and twirled a little on the green grass, her school robe open and flowing prettily before she resumed her pace at Hermione's side. "You have a lot of secrets."

"I know. But this one will no longer need to be kept a secret after the Third Task, okay?" The blonde had a remarkable way about her; she could keep a secret, yes, but Hermione was leery of sharing too many.

Three days later, Hermione—Portkey in hand, quills and parchment and novel in her bag, dressed in her best Spring Uniform of a blue dress and light cloak with sensible ballet flats that were all charmed Beauxbatons blue—was hurrying past the wards on a path she was wearing down between the carriages and the Forbidden Forest. Her mind was racing, reviewing notes, texts, and the impacts of basic wards under full moons as opposed to new.

"Champion, stay your path."

She halted as a centaur—tall, proud, with pale skin and dark hair—emerged from the shadowy interior. Instinctively, she offered him a curtsy. "Good day, sir."

He nodded. "I am a Guardian of the Forest. You have been going forth often from this place and it has been noticed. Our Seer, Firenze, has said you are now a part of the House of Black, which is a Dark House, and we have been concerned."

She blushed, uncertain what to do with all of that. "I have been identified as the soulmate of Lord Black, but he is not a Dark wizard, Guardian. Nor is his heir."

"The Chosen One. Yes, we know of him as well. Have a care, young Champion. The House of Black is ancient and is not fond of the Muggle-born."

A chill swept over her skin. "Did your Seer, er, see something important? Is that why you bring me this warning, Guardian?"

He shook his head and she thought perhaps his stern features looked abashed as he said, "No. I was one who wounded you in the Task, and I wished to make amends. We did not wish to injure innocents, you see, and yet we were compelled to do so by treaty. Forgive us."

She smiled and offered him another obeisance. "I never held you or yours to blame, Guardian. You have my respect. But I must go, now. I have exams to take in France, which is why I'm here." She brandished her Portkey. "I bid you good day."

With some effort, she banished the warnings to the back of her mind. She was almost finished with her clandestine exams and could not afford to be distracted. She had a plan, after all, and it required her to officially out of school at the end of the Triwizard Tournament. If she were finished with her exams, then she could safely declare herself done.

Sirius Black was such a wonderful professor during Potions. Surely he'd appreciate her dedication to learning . . . new things . . . about his library.

She just had to finish school!

16 June 1997, Beauxbatons' chariot pour les filles, Hogwarts

"You're being subversive?" Charlie Weasley's tone was playful as they tried different approaches to reinventing her body armor. "Excellent."

Hermione grinned and held up a patching block of dragonhide. "I'm just not telling him yet. Remus knows, so I figured you'd be safe knowing, too."

"You really are a Marauder," Charlie said, his freckled grin filled with appreciation. "So, how did you manage to take, er, BehMahs and prepare for the final task? Oh, and I am thinking the patch here isn't going to work."

Distracted, Hermione frowned. "But, I need it."

"How about we make you a singlet to wear under this, yeah? But are you sure, lass, that you want to cover your back?" He grinned. "I hear you've got a gorgeous set of wings on ya."

"Thank you, I guess," she muttered, contemplating his suggestion. They were in what passed for a visitor's lounge in the boys' carriage, that late spring day, and Charlie had been more than happy to work around Sirius's knowledge in helping her prepare for the Task. He took it as a prank of epic proportions, for whatever reason. She was just thankful for his help. "Can we have one made in time?"

"Oi, yeah. Little thing like you? We've got ready-made clothing in some of the basics. I'll pop off and get you one. If you're sure you want it? Wings, remember."

"I'm sure. Let me write you a draft, if you'd like, from my account at Gringotts in Paris, and that should take care of it."

"You've got a deal there, Miss Granger."

"It's Hermione!"

20 June 1997

"Hermione," Madame Maxime called softly just after sunrise. "Please come with me. There is a minor chore to handle before the Task tomorrow."

Madame, due to her heritage, was calling from under Hermione's window in the carriage. Well, not too far under, to be sure. Hermione opened the window with a flick of her hand. "Now, Madame?"

"Oui."

Lips pressed together, Hermione wondered just what, by all the Fae, the Triwizard Tournament people felt they had to do the day before the Final Task that required a secretive summons? She donned the Beauxbaton spring uniform so as to make a favorable impression upon the Tournament organizers. She left her hair down, though, to give the impression of ease and confidence. It was a mental game as much as a magical and physical challenge, and she tried to never forget that.

"What do they want?" she inquired of her headmistress as they walked quickly to the castle proper. It was too early even for the earliest risers to be heading in for breakfast, being barely five in the morning.

Madame lifted a hand and a house-elf appeared, wearing a toga with purple spangles on it. "What French Mistress be wanting?"

"Coffee and scones, Libbet. Thank you."

"And for Missy Champion?" The green-eyed elf asked, ears perked to full extension.

"The same, s'il vous plaît."

Ludovic Bagman bustled in, looking as if he hadn't slept in a while, blond hair sticking straight up atop his head. "We're just waiting for the boys, Mademoiselle Granger," he informed her, still using an awkward French accent when he spoke her name. Judging by his smile, she supposed he thought he was being clever or ingratiating.

She and Madame sat at the end of the Ravenclaw table to wait for Harry and Viktor. Like her, Viktor was preparing for the Durmstrang version of the Brevets d'Éducation Magique Avancée. She had not seen much of him, aside from when they might encounter each other whilst out for runs around the lake or brief greetings before and after meals. His headmaster was keeping him close, practically at his elbow, and the stress from the Durmstrangers was palpable. She suspected much of that had to do with the revelation of the Dark Mark on New Year's Eve.

Harry came entered the Hall, hair tied back in a sloppy tail at the nape of his neck, Dumbledore at his heels. "Hermione," he murmured, rubbing at his eyes, "do you know what this is about?"

"No idea. Have a scone?"

"Thanks. So, Dad will be out here tomorrow. Said Remus is trying to get him to bet on one of us to win."

She laughed. "That went over well, I imagine." She sipped at her coffee. "Remus is quite amusing."

"He is, yeah. More lately than he used to be. Being mated is good for him."

She hadn't asked before, but she decided she could over coffee and scones. "And you?" she whispered. "You and Luna?"

He barely even blushed, which she was happy to see. "Yeah. Still can't see Wrackspurts, though."

"I'm happy for you."

"So am I!" He wiggled his brows in a playful manner and she laughed loudly enough to echo off the walls. "By the way," he added once she was eating her own scone, "I'm happy for you and Dad, as well. He's not laughed so much in a long time. Thank you."

She did blush, her gaze only bouncing off of his. "He's a remarkable man. I mean, you know, when he's not all furry and licking my face." He opened his mouth and she held up one finger. "Do not say it. You are your father's son and I don't want to hear it."

This time, it was his laughter that echoed in the Hall, which seemed to be Viktor's cue to join them. "Morning," he said shortly.

"Good morning, Viktor. Are you well?"

"Da. Vell enough. Vhat are ve doing here?"

Mister Bagman burst into their conversation with a disreputable, wrinkled witch's hat in one hand. "That's my cue! So, this is the Sorting Hat here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as Harry Black is well aware." He offered a strange little half-bow to Harry, who only stared at him with raised brows. "Normally, this Hat—an ancient magical artifact that can sift through a person's thoughts, but tells no secrets—is used to decide where a first year student would best be Sorted at school. Today, though, the Hat has acceded to a different use. We are going to ask it to look for a particular thing in your minds, something we will be using in the Task tomorrow."

"Vhat? As if ve needed personal boggart?"

"Oi! I did not agree to being Legilimized by the Hat, Mister Bagman."

Hermione said nothing, only exchanging a look with her headmistress, who seemed to be as much taken aback as Hermione was herself.

"Mademoiselle Granger of Beauxbatons, as you are in the lead, currently, for our Triwizard Tournament, you will be the first to, pardon the expression, have your head examined."

Determined to appear as if she were not remotely uncomfortable with this Hermione, composed her features and waited while the Game Master placed the ancient hat on her head.

Ah…

When she heard the whisper, she jolted and ripped the thing off her head. So much for being composed…

"It does that," Harry told her, his gaze rueful. "You don't have to answer; it'll just poke about for a moment or two." He picked the hat up off the floor and handed it to her.

Scowling, she kept a vehement response to herself and placed the hat on her head once more. The Heads of School were all watching her as if she were some rare breed at a zoo, which was vastly unwelcome.

Relax, Hermione. This won't hurt a bit. Your parents probably say that, right? She flinched but set her jaw and let the thing talk to her mind. Ah, I see what I want, right there. Thank you. And don't throw me on the floor this time.

"Fine." She took the hat off and gave it to Mister Bagman. "Here." As the other Champions were eyeing her with questions fairly shouting from their silent faces, she tossed up her hands. "I have no idea what it was looking for. The comment about my parents, though, was entirely uncalled for."

21 June 1997, Kensington

The house was empty, save for one elf, who had attached herself to Sirius years ago and wasn't letting herself be transferred to Farecliffe for anything. The full moon had been the night before, and Sirius wasn't yet accustomed to not spending it with Moony, but he knew that Moony had his mate—Tonks's stints as a pink-furred wolf were hilarious—and a Swedish Short Snout in the guise of Dragonologist Charlie Weasley. Moony had lots to do on nights with a full moon.

And though Padfoot had an open invitation, Sirius hadn't gone, because the Final Task of the Triwizard Tournament was happening and he needed to have his wits about him. Harry would be competing, of course, which terrified him. Hermione would be competing, of course, which also terrified him. He had no illusions that this Task would be as easy as the one before, nor would it have just one basic obstacle, for Hermione had indicated that one of the tasks would be against multiple obstacles.

That had to be the Final one. Of course.

A Patronus leapt into his dressing room as he prepared to get ready for the day at Hogwarts. It was a flying insect, of all things. Maybe a wasp?

Lord Sirius Black! I, Ludo Bagman, Game Master for the Triwizard, am here to collect you. Please let me past the wards.

Suspicious, for it hadn't been six months since he'd inadvertently let marked Death Eaters past his wards, Sirius still had to heed the request. After all, it was a Patronus. A Guardian. A production of Light magic.

And Ludo Bagman certainly was affiliated with his son and the Triwizard. He sent his own Patronus to inform the man that he would be at the front gate in five minutes.

Once there, he didn't ask Bagman to come inside. Instead, Sirius met with him in the small garden in front of his townhouse. "Is something wrong with my son?" he demanded.

The blond man grinned expansively, spreading his hands as if to indicate nothing like that could possibly ever be the case. Sirius almost snorted but Bagman spoke again. "I just saw him yesterday, Lord Black. He's fine and ready for the Final Task today. No, I'm here on behalf of the Beauxbatons Champion." His smirk made Sirius want to become Padfoot and do something reprehensible to him. "You see, for the Task, each Champion is going to have a companion. Someone that is bound by magic to them, that they will have to keep safe and have at their side throughout the entirety of the Task. In fact, a Champion will be considered to have forfeited the Task if they reach the Winner's Cup without their companion. Now, Lord Black," he continued, his voice becoming oily enough to make Sirius want to take another shower, "I won't inquire how you became so very important to Mademoiselle Granger of Beauxbatons, but I've been assured that you are the person she treasures most in her immediate sphere. So you have been chosen as her companion. I will Apparate you to Hogwarts and—" He paused before taking a step back from Sirius. "And I'll need you to hand over your wand to the Tournament Judges before the Task begins."

"What?!" Sirius had seen a lot in his life, good and bad. He'd had shocks. He'd been surprised. He'd been amazed and overwhelmed and horrified. But whatever feelings that were shooting through his whole body until his muscles shook at that point were beyond description. He just stared at Bagman. Stared hard. "I'm going to be in a magical trap or something and won't even have my wand?"

"Well, no, but she will have hers and part of this challenge in the Triwizard Tournament is to see how well the Champion can defend those close to them. Prior tournaments had them rescuing hostages in hostile environments, you know. So, truly, Lord Black, I don't know what your concern is. You'll be with her the whole time and she will be with you."

Sirius still wasn't happy when they arrived at Hogwarts. They were admitted by Rubeus Hagrid, who was watching Madame Maxime from Beauxbatons with both his eyes. Sirius couldn't even smile about that; he was far too preoccupied. The Headmistress of Beauxbatons, Hagrid, and Sirius himself had all been sequestered behind the judges' box that overlooked a maze of sorts that had been constructed on the Quidditch Pitch. He could only see vague shapes within the maze, as the barricades and walls were apparently crafted of wards. He could, though, see the prize: a shining cup on a raised dais in the center of the maze. There were a variety of paths to get to it, but they wouldn't, he was sure, be easily seen from the ground.

"Oh, hello, Lord Black!" Luna Lovegood was waiting with Dumbledore, her eyes bright and her expression cheerful. "Won't this be an adventure! Far nicer, I'm sure, than fighting Death Eaters in Hogsmeade." She twirled to show off her bright yellow dress. "I didn't have the opportunity to find something better for the tournament, but I did manage to conjure a red ribbon," she went on to say, showing him the back of her head, where a Gryffindor-red ribbon was entwined with her curls. "I wasn't allowed to cast my Patronus, though, as the Headmaster took my wand."

Sirius nodded in commiseration. "Madame Maxime has mine. And I didn't have the chance to change, either."

Luna smiled slyly. "Well, I'm sure they knew that you would use every opportunity to communicate with your Champion and let her know what was happening. I know I would have."

"So Harry doesn't know?"

"No," she answered, frowning for the first time in Sirius's memory. "And he will be quite distressed. That is the way of soulmates, you know."

"Here is Krum's companion." Karkaroff sounded abrupt, dismissive, as he escorted the lovely Fräulein Roth to join them. "I haff her vand. Are ve ready?"

Sirius flexed his fingers; his hands felt empty. Being without his wand. Having surrendered his wand. This was . . . a lot for him to take in. He'd surrendered it on occasion whilst he was an Auror, but that was to Alastor Moody. He knew and trusted Moody to have his back in any conflict. But to give it to the care and keeping of a virtual stranger?

He'd have to trust entirely in Hermione to face whatever obstacles would come their way. Well, he mused with a smirk he hid behind one empty hand, I would if I couldn't do wandless magic fairly well. So can she, come to that.

The reminder was heartening, and he took a breath and looked out once more over the course. Maybe I can memorize paths to reach the prize cup. We could hook up with Harry and Luna . . . hm. Where?

Still. They'd all four make it. That path there goes to—

A haze settled over the entire course as Ludo Bagman decided it was time to do his job again. Bloody berk.

"And in first place, the lovely Champion from Beauxbatons, Hermione Granger!"

The applause and shouting were a lot louder this time, Hermione noted, but she was rather distracted to appreciate it. Where were Sirius, Luna, and Rosamund?

"Did you see Luna this morning, Hermione?" Harry had asked, having crossed the Hall to inquire, apparently. "We were, er, going to meet before breakfast . . . somewhere . . . and she didn't show up and I wondered if you'd seen her."

"No, I'm sorry. I hope she's not ill. Shall I ask?"

Her inquiries had availed her nothing, but her obvious hunting for the blond girl had caught the eye of the Durmstrang Champion, who was also hunting for someone.

It was only after breakfast that they had all three met to compare notes, Harry going so far as to try his charmed mirror and Hermione her Grim to find out that Sirius was likewise unable to be found.

Viktor realized it first. "Dey vill be part of Task. Somehow." He'd gone a bit pale saying so. "Rosamund." He shook his head sharply, once, and brought an iron gaze to Harry. "Your Luna?"

"Yeah. And my Dad, apparently. For Hermione."

"They took adult? Member ov Parliament?" He swore, then, and Hermione didn't bother to translate.

She and Harry exchanged looks. "I'll do my best to make sure he's safe, Harry," she promised, though the weight of that settled in her stomach like a boulder. "I will."

And now, she waited, lined up with the other Champions, wondering where their beloved partners were. Did they have to brave whatever was in the warded configuration before them to find those who were missing? Would they have to rescue them somehow? Were they being held as surety for something?

Any Tournament that would set schoolchildren against dragons was not to be trusted.

The introductions had happened, apparently, and Hermione scanned the filled-to-overflowing spectator stands. There was that journalist with the pink quill. There was someone on the wireless up in the middle near the judges' table. Who knew who else would be reporting that afternoon? It was warm, for this late June day. Warm and sunny and . . .

There was no Sirius Black up there to smile for her and make the terrible pressure within ease. No laughing eyes with the tiny wrinkles that spoke of a life well-lived. No reassuring nod or wave.

"Come, ma petite," Madame Maxime urged, a hand on her shoulder. "Be at ease, he is close by, your Lord Black."

Her heart leapt for a moment and she dared to look up at her Headmistress as she was led to an aperture in the milky wards that was numbered with "1" in elaborate illumination as if it were in the Book of Kells. "You've seen him?" she murmured, just in case there was a hidden Sonorous Charm activated somewhere.

"Oui."

"And Mademoiselle Granger, who has fifty-five points, will have a three minute lead over Harry Black, who has fifty-two points. He will enter from the second portal. And then, one minute later, Viktor Krum of Durmstrang will enter at the third portal. On my mark, then, Mademoiselle Granger." Madame Maxime leant over to kiss her gently on the top of her head—a mark of rare favor that made Hermione even more nervous—before leaving to join the other judges. She could see them gathering and letting Madame lead the way to the appointed, festooned table. Cameras were undoubtedly clicking all over the stadium seating.

Hermione waited as the crowd grew quiet. Waited as the judges were seated. Waited and waited and then—

"And one more thing!"

Suddenly infuriated, she snapped, "Ta Gueule!" She didn't want to be much more rude, but still. The man was going beyond the pale at this point, stretching this out so long.

And then, she heard a laugh that she desperately needed to hear. "I concur. He needs to shut that mouth of his, but he won't get so much attention for years, so he's milking it right now."

"Sirius!" She rushed to him, uncaring of the witnesses all over, and flung her arms around his shoulders. "Where—"

"No time now, love. I have to give you this. It's charmed. And you have to keep me in arm's reach until we win this thing."

"What?" He placed the charmed token in her left hand with his right. He felt the shock of the charm, the spell that bound them as they both touched it. She gasped. "Bloody hell," she whispered, surprising him. "What did you do?"

"What I had to, love. I'll explain when we're inside, all right?" He fired a glance up at the judges. "And, there." A crackling sound popped above the stands and she moved instinctively to get within the wards. The Third Task had begun in earnest.

She could feel him, his magic pressed up against hers. It wasn't the erotic, loving feeling she got when he himself was pressed against her. It was, instead, charged with hope and dread both.

"Take a breath for me, my lord," she whispered as they held hands and entered the wards.

"I took a look at the course from where they had us waiting. Go North. That way. Stay that way as much as you can and there should be three separate paths to reach the cup."

They set off at a jog, she with her wand in her free right hand, he holding on to her with his. "No dragon armor?" she asked, trying to keep her mind alert whilst looking and waiting in utter trepidation for the first obstacle, creature, or curse to find them.

"No time," he answered with a puff of air she could hear. "You'll just have to make do with the formal robes."

"Quite nice," she said, not looking over at him. Then, it happened.

She'd been trying her best to keep on a northern heading, but it had been hard. The haze of the magic wardings had obscured her vision—accidentally/on purpose, she imagined—and she had to angle around a wall that jutted from the east, right on her path. And an amorphous, black thing crept around that obstruction to settle in front of her. "Boggart," she whispered.

Sirius, dear man that he was, leapt in front of her and the boggart became an image of Harry Black, lying in a pool of blood with a tall, dark man standing over him.

"Harry," Sirius whispered, his skin cold under her fingers.

She wasted no more than a moment before summoning her confidence and imagining how, by Morgana and all the Fae, she could make this horrid image into something amusing. Something funny about Harry. Harry on his broom. Harry being snarky over the holiday at Farecliffe. Yes. "Riddikulus!" she shouted, pointing her wand at the devastating image and picturing Harry Black throwing buzzing white "Wrackspurts" at the dark man who had stood over him.

The boggart faded away and her path was clear. From somewhere, she heard the hiss and faint echo of applause. Perhaps Harry had entered the maze.

"So why are you stuck to me?" she asked as they moved a bit more cautiously, as northward as she could go.

"I didn't know I'd be stuck to you. They told me I'd have to be in arm's reach."

She snorted harshly just before the ground before them exploded.

"Shit!" Sirius shouted. "What the bleeding hell? Where'd that come from?"

He tried to tug his hand from hers, but he couldn't and all she could do was conjure a quick Protego Duo to cover them as they contemplated their next move. "We have to hurry, I know, but how to we get around this? It's blocking the entire path." They tried to separate but were once again thwarted. Frustration and irritation stirred in her stomach. "And you've no armor." She growled, deep in her chest, for she had no other outlet for her upset.

Sirius rubbed her armored arm with his free hand. "Let's try running and jumping. Maybe we can levitate each other in midair and make it all the way?"

"You've no wand," she whispered.

"Don't really need one for that." He laughed, there in the maze with explosions now sound out in different places around them and the crowds gasping and who knew what all. Her heart eased and she felt herself relax.

"All right then, on three we cast yeah?"

"Right. Lead us off, Champion."

She nodded. "Right. All right." She backed up a bit and said, "Go!"

They ran for a few paces. "Jump!" she cried before pointing her wand across her body toward Sirius and saying, "One! Two! Three! Levicorpus!"

She heard a distinct "Leviosa" from him at the same moment and, though she felt herself hold still mid-air for a breath, his body moved forward on the impetus of the spell she'd cast.

He pulled her with him, thankfully. "Good thing we didn't both use my spell," he commented breathlessly, those brilliant eyes dancing as he caught her and she performed a silent canceling charm.

"Good thing," she agreed before rolling up on her toes to kiss him briefly. "So you're stuck to me as one of the, what, obstacles? No, wait." She frowned and thought back over notes she'd taken as far back as last September. "Hostage. This is one of the hostage scenarios."

"They called me a companion but," he said with a wry glance at their hands, "I'm inclined to go with hostage."

"Let's go!" she said, feeling like she understood things a bit better. "North. Which way? I got turned around."

He eyed the sky and pointed and they went, leaping with a bright Lumos charm over Devil's Snare that waved at them, and dodging pixies who cast stinging hexes at them. Hermione winced, protecting Sirius with her armored body as much as she could, but one caught her neck and another her face. She could feel the flaring pain and swelling and hissed.

"Hermione! Wait! Let me see."

"No time. Let's go. Hear that?"

A shout rose up and the clear chant of "Krum! Krum! Krum!" made her wonder what horrid fate had befallen Harry, for certainly Krum wasn't anywhere near—

"Hehrmyoni!"

It was Viktor, holding hands with a silent and perhaps not altogether there Rosamund Roth. "Viktor? What's wrong with Rosamund?"

Viktor lifted his wand and aimed it, his eyes seeming blank as he pointed toward her and Sirius before he said one word. "Imperio."

Sirius blanched as soon as Viktor Krum lifted his wand against Hermione. "No!" he shouted, pushing Hermione out of the way after the other man cast the Unforgivable Imperius Curse.

He felt it hit him instead. Imperio!

"Sirius! No!" He heard the sharp denial but was too busy fending off the insidious push of the Curse. Fortunately, as an Auror, he'd had experience fighting it before. Moody was a firm believer in familiarizing all those on his team with all manner of curses and hexes. Hermione called out something and the Viktor Krum fell over. The insidious pulsations in Sirius's mind stopped immediately and he shook himself all over.

"Thanks, love."

"Of course. Come on, let's go. I'm worried, now."

They took off at a jog, hands still charmed to be together as Hermione took the negligible lead. The sun had barely moved in the sky overhead, but Sirius felt as if they'd been in that place for hours. Which was ridiculous, but even so. "What are you worried about?" he asked her, wincing when a golem appeared at the turn of the path to shoot actual pointed arrows at her. She stood in front of him, taking the hits herself, with barely a sound. "Hermione?"

"I want to win. Doesn't Harry? I am worried about Luna as well—oh no!"

Sirius swore as this huge . . . thing appeared before them. Maybe three meters long, it had a segmented body that reminded him of both a crab and a scorpion. "That thing reeks," he decided, covering his nose with his free hand.

Hermione cast a Bubble-head Charm around them and he breathed more easily. "What is it?" she wondered, trying to step about to one side of it. "Can we jump over it as well?"

"No idea," he retorted. "Try hitting it with a Reducto, maybe?"

She nodded and did just that, but the damned thing left them a parting gift: as it was being torn apart by Hermione's curse, it blasted fire out its arse, singing Sirius's trousers. Thankfully, Hermione took the brunt of that one with her dragonhide as well.

"Are you all right?" she demanded, turning to look at him and dispelling the Bubble-head charm with a dismissive pass of her hand. "Let me see." Kneeling before him, she felt up one leg and then the other and he couldn't help it—didn't matter that they were in danger or anything; his body apparently interpreted her position as an offer and his response was inevitable.

She saw it and bit her lip as she flickered a quick glance up to him. "I have no idea what anyone can see in here, Lord Black, so . . . all oral exams will have to be administered at a later date."

She stood, then, and he had to kiss her. Just once. "I don't care who can see us, Hermione. You're all but done anyway."

"Just have to finish this Task! Come on!" Her smile surprised him, as he knew she was tense and anxious. "Will you hate me if I win over Harry?"

"No. I promise."

He felt the small buzz of that promise in his chest and remembered she had experienced something similar the night she went through the soulmate ritual. That sense that a promise made to a soulmate was sacred and would be remembered. That sense of Otherworldliness involved with their relationship. "I could never hate you," he said belatedly.

She tossed him a distracted smile over her shoulder and then shouted, "Merde! Duck!" before tugging on his arm and throwing him to the ground. She landed atop him, protecting his body with of much of hers as she could and he could feel small creatures swoop down and land on her. He smelt sulphur and burning hair and winced. "Small dragons," she whispered in a strained voice. "Immobulus!"

He waited, then asked, "Can we get up?"

"Yes, I'm so tired of this. Where to now? How's your sense of direction?"

"I'm sorry," he murmured, putting his arm around her as he smelt her hair and winced again for her. She hadn't mentioned it, yet, and he wouldn't either. "I can't remember; I've got so turned around."

There was another burst of applause and a chant of "Black! Black! Black!"

"Sirius?" Hermione tossed her head and nearly clipped his jaw, but he appreciated the nearly martial light in her eye. "Want to help me, er, avoid some obstacles?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"Flying. But. I'd need to levitate you, make you featherlight, and tug you along in the air. Can you handle that? Then I'll—"

"Be able to see where to go! Excellent. Yes, I'm all for that." He privately hoped they would arrive at the same time as Harry and that all four of them—as he imagined, naturally, that Harry would have the charming and whimsical Miss Lovegood stuck to his left hand—could run to the glowing cup he'd seen earlier. "I'll look rather undignified for a member of the Wizengamot, though. "

She quirked him a smile. "I'll make it up to you."

He nodded and waited and she went very still. "What?" he asked.

"Wardrobe problem." With a grimace she twisted this way and that. "I'm wearing a singlet underneath my armor. I'll have to strip the armor off to my waist and then remove the singlet and then replace my armor. Not sure how to do this with you stuck to me." She brought their joined hands up between them.

Urgency was now racing through his limbs, but he made himself just think.

"No!" Another cry flew over the maze and it made Sirius's blood freeze.

"Harry," he breathed. "What the bloody hell happened to him?"

For once, Hermione wasn't any consolation, she looked up, past the hazy, warded boundaries that made up the maze, and shook her head. Only a renewed cry of, "Black! Black! Black!" in a cheering manner let Sirius relax again.

"This is way too hard for someone my age," he muttered, wishing he could just sit down. But he couldn't, because his soulmate was facing a conundrum.

Hermione pushed out a breath. "Fine. Just do it, Hermione," she muttered. She plunged her wand into the coiled braid on the back of her head, as she'd done during the First Task, and asked Sirius, "Please pull the shoulder down on my armor, this side." She shrugged her right shoulder and he did as she asked, brows lifted in some silent query she didn't choose to answer. Once her arm was free, she did closed her eyes because she really didn't want to do this with a huge Triwizard Tournament audience, but she had little choice. In her head, she imagined Charlie Weasley giving her a big I told you so! but she'd let him do that in person later. "Close your eyes and stand in front of me, if you would, Lord Black. I'd rather not flash my breasts to half of Wizarding Britain."

He coughed, eyes wide, but forebore to comment. She would repay him for his consideration after they finished. Perhaps he could see the tension all over her face. One he was shielding her with his body and had his eyes shut, she did her best to get the singlet off her torso and over her head. She wasn't wearing a bra, as the dragonhide singlet was enough support for her breasts. Having her naked breasts effectively rubbing against Sirius's body was embarrassing and arousing.

"You know, we'll have to try this again without an audience," he murmured, eyes still closed.

She tugged the singlet down until it hung from her elbow and then she did her best to get her arm in the empty sleeve of her armor. "Pull up my sleeve?"

He still didn't open his eyes and, for that, she kissed him as soon as she was covered once more. A wave of "Awwww" reached them from the spectators and she blushed fire, she was sure.

"Thank you," she whispered, briefly tucking her head under his chin. "Er, you can open your eyes now."

He kissed the top of her head. "You're welcome. Let's fly, all right?"

He cast a featherlight charm on himself and she pointed her wand at him at the same time that she flared her wings from her body. It hurt, her skin ripping and feeling for just a moment as if her insides were exposed to the elements, just like the times before, but she was confident now and leapt into the air.

And almost fell again. Light he might be, and able to move on his own with her attached, but she had an imbalance issue even so. "Trying, Sirius!"

"I know. Breathe, love. You're doing beautifully."

"Bet you say that to all the Champions!" she quipped as she struggled again to gain altitude. "Gonna have to center you."

"All right."

She moved and adjusted and soon he was underneath her, arm twisted a bit so he could look ahead and not "fly" on his back. "There it is!"

"I see it," he said, his voice strained. "Hurry?"

Bagman's voice filled the air. "And there is the Beauxbatons Champion! Employing her skill with partial human transfiguration as she did in the Second Task! Look, she sees the Hogwarts Champion and she's, yes, she's flying down to meet the other pair!"

BehMahs - Charlie refers to the BÉMAs, or Brevets d'Éducation Magique Avancée, the French equivalent of the N.E.W.T.s - imagined and named by Zabethou.

Note: I am going out of state on a visit to an ailing parent for the weekend. I won't have my computer with me. This results in two things: 1) I will be able to send out replies and peeks into the next chapter until I head to the airport Friday afternoon, but you have to cast the Aperecium charm and be signed in and accepting PMs. 2) Chapter Fifteen: Resurrection won't post until Tuesday morning, my time.

Thanks for reading!

LJ