Welcome, one and all, to another chapter of HP: Path of Trials! Time to get this out of the way...
Disclaimer: I have no ownership of HP save for OCs.
Now, here's...
Chapter 29: A Maddening Discovery
Enjoy, dear readers!
Marcus, Harry, Ron, and Hermione went up to the Owlery after breakfast on Sunday to send a letter to Percy, asking, as Sirius had suggested, whether he had seen Mr. Crouch lately. They used Hedwig, because it had been so long since she'd had a job. When they had watched her fly out of sight through the Owlery window, they proceeded down to the kitchen to give Dobby his new socks.
The house-elves gave them a very cheery welcome, bowing and curtsying and bustling around making tea again. Dobby was estatic about his present.
"Harry Potter is too good to Dobby!" he squeaked, wiping large tears out of his enormous eyes.
"You save my life with that gillyweed, Dobby, you really did," said Harry.
"No chance of more of those eclairs, is there?" said Ron, who was looking around at the beaming and bowing house-elves.
"You've just had breakfast!" said Hermione irritably, but a great silver platter of eclairs was already zooming toward them, supported by four elves.
"We should get some stuff to send up to Snuffles," Harry muttered.
"Good idea," said Ron. "Give Pig something to do. You couldn't give us a bit of extra food, could you?" he said to the surrounding elves, and they bowed delightedly and hurried off to get some more.
"Dobby, where's Winky?" said Hermione, who was looking around.
"Winky is over there by the fire, miss," said Dobby quietly, his ears drooping slightly.
"Oh dear," said Hermione as she spotted Winky.
Marcus looked in that direction as well and grimaced. Winky was sitting on the same stool as last time, but she had allowed herself to become so filthy that she was not immediately distinguishable from the smoke-blackened brick behind her. Her clothes were ragged and unwashed. She was clutching a bottle of butterbeer and swaying slightly on her stool, staring into the fire. As they watched her, she gave an enormous hiccup.
"Winky is getting through six bottles a day now," Dobby whispered to Harry.
"Well, it's not strong, that stuff," Harry said.
But Dobby shook his head. "'Tis strong for a house-elf, sir," he said.
Winky hiccuped again. The elves who had brought the eclairs gave her disapproving looks as they returned to work.
"Winky is pining, Harry Potter," Dobby whispered sadly. "Winky wants to go home. Winky still thinks Mr. Crouch is her master, sir, and nothing Dobby says will persuade her that Professor Dumbledore is her master now."
"Hey, Winky," said Harry, walking over to her, and bending down, "you don't know what Mr. Crouch might be up to, do you? Because he's stopped turning up to judge the Triwizard Tournament."
Marcus watched as Winky's eyes flickered. Her enormous pupils focused on Harry. She swayed slightly again and then said, "M - Master is stopped - hic - coming?"
"Yeah, he has," Marcus stated. "we haven't seen him since the first task. The Daily Prophet's saying he's ill."
Winky swayed some more, staring blurrily at both Marcus and Harry.
"Master - hic - ill?"
Her bottom lip began to tremble.
"But we're not sure if that's true," said Hermione quickly.
"Master is needing his - hic - Winky!" whimpered the elf. "Master cannot - hic - manage - hic - all by himself..."
"Other people manage to do their own housework, you know, Winky," Hermione said severely.
"Winky - hic - is not only - hic - doing housework for Mr. Crouch!" Winky squealed indignantly, swaying worse than ever and slopping butterbeer down her already heavily stained blouse. "Master is - hic - trusting Winky with - hic - the most important - hic - the most secret -"
"Wait, what?!" thought Marcus. "Crouch's most important secret?!"
"What?" said Harry.
But Winky shook her head very hard, spilling more butterbeer down herself.
"Winky keeps - hic - her master's secrets," she said mutinously, swaying very heavily now, frowning up at Harry with her eyes crossed. "You is - hic - nosing, you is."
"Winky must not talk like that to Harry Potter!" said Dobby angrily. "Harry Potter is brave and noble and Harry Potter is not nosy!"
"He is nosing - hic - into my master's - hic - private and secret - hic - Winky is a good house-elf - hic - Winky keeps her silence - hic - people trying to - hic - pry and poke - hic -"
Winky's eyelids drooped and suddenly, without warning, she slid off her stool into the hearth, snoring loudly. The empty bottle of butterbeer rolled away across the stone-flagged floor. Half a dozen house-elves came hurrying forward, looking disgusted. One of them picked up the bottle; the others covered Winky with a large checked tablecloth and tucked the ends in neatly, hiding her from view.
"We is sorry you had to see that, sirs and miss!" squeaked a nearby elf, shaking his head and looking very ashamed. "We is hoping you will not judge us all by Winky, sirs and miss!"
"She's unhappy!" said Hermione, exasperated. "Why don't you try and cheer her up instead of covering her up?"
"Begging your pardon, miss," said the house-elf, bowing deeply again, "but house-elves has no right to be unhappy when there is work to be done and masters to be served."
"Oh for heaven's sake!" Hermione cried. "Listen to me, all of you! You've got just as much right as wizards to be unhappy! You've got the right to wages and holidays and proper clothes, you don't have to do everything you're told - look at Dobby!"
Marcus dangerously narrowed her eyes at Hermione. "Is she really going to do this right now?!"
"Miss will please keep Dobby out of this," Dobby mumbled, looking scared. The cheery smiles had vanished from the faces of the house-elves around the kitchen. They were suddenly looking at Hermione as though she were mad and dangerous.
"We has your extra food!" squeaked an elf at Harry's elbow, and he shoved a large ham, a dozen cakes, and some fruit into Harry's arms. "Good-bye!"
The house-elves crowded around Marcus, Harry, Ron, and Hermione and began shunting them out of the kitchen, many little hands pushing in the smalls of their backs.
"Thank you for the socks, Harry Potter!" Dobby called miserably from the hearth, where he was standing next to the lumpy tablecloth that was Winky.
"You couldn't keep your mouth shut, could you, Hermione?" said Ron angrily as the kitchen door slammed shut behind them."They won't want us visiting them now! We could've tried to get more stuff out of Winky about Crouch!"
"Oh as if you care about that!" scoffed Hermione. "You only like coming down here for the food!"
The rest of the day could only be described as a great nuisance. Marcus got sick of Ron and Hermione snipping at each other over their homework in the common room that he decided to do his training early with Lorelei and Cedric in which afterwards he went to go spend time with Fleur in the Beauxbatons carriage.
Much to Marcus' relief, Ron and Hermione's bad moods had burnt out and Ron's dark predictions that the house-elves would send substandard food up to the Gryffindor table because Hermione had insulted them proved false; the bacon, eggs, and kippers were quite good as usual.
When the post owls arrived, Hermione looked up eagerly; she seemed to be expecting something.
"Percy won't have time to answer yet," said Ron. "We only sent Hedwig yesterday."
"No, it's not that," said Hermione. "I've taken out a subscription to the Daily Prophet. I'm getting sick of finding everything out from the Slytherins."
"Good thinking, Hermione," said Marcus, looking at the owls. "Hey, I think you're in luck -"
A grey owl was soaring down toward Hermione.
"It hasn't got a newspaper, though," she said, looking disappointed."It's -"
But to her bewilderment, the gray owl landed in front of her plate, closely followed by four barn owls, a brown owl, and a tawny.
"How many subscriptions did you take out?" said Harry, seizing Hermione's goblet before it was knocked over by the cluster of owls, all of whom were jostling close to her, trying to deliver their own letter first.
"What on earth -?" Hermione said, taking the letter from the gray owl, opening it, and starting to read. "Oh really!" she sputtered, going rather red.
"What's up?" said Ron.
"It's - oh how ridiculous -"
She thrust the letter at Harry, leaving Marcus to look over his shoulder. The letter, he noticed, was not handwritten. Rather, it was put together with pasted letters that seemed to have been cut out of the Daily Prophet.
YoU ArE a WiCKed gIrL. HarRy PoTTer dESeRvEs BeTtER. GO BacK WhErE YoU CAme FRoM MuGgLe.
"They're all like it!" said Hermione desperately, opening one letter after another. "'Harry Potter can do much better than the likes of you...' 'You deserve to be boiled in frog spawn...' Ouch!"
She had opened the last envelope, and yellowish-green liquid smelling strongly of petrol gushed over her hands, which began to erupt in large yellow boils.
"Undiluted bubotuber pus!" said Ron, picking up the envelope gingerly and sniffing it.
"Ow!" said Hermione, tears starting in her eyes as she tried to rub the pus off her hands with a napkin, but her fingers were now so thickly covered in painful sores that it looked as though she were wearing a pair of thick, knobbly gloves.
"You'd better get up to the hospital wing," said Harry as the owls around Hermione took flight. "We'll tell Professor Sprout where you've gone..."
"I warned her!" said Ron as Hermione hurried out of the Great Hall, cradling her hands. "I warned her not to annoy Rita Skeeter! Look at this one..." He read out one of the letter Hermione left behind: "I read in Witch Weekly about how you are playing Harry Potter false and that boy has had enough hardship and I will be sending you a curse by next post as soon as I can find a big enough envelope.' Blimey, she'd better watch out for herself."
Suddenly, another tawny owl landed in front of Marcus, sticking out the leg that had a letter attached.
"Marcus, were you expecting a letter?" asked Harry.
"Not in the slightest," said Marcus, feeling utterly confused as he untied the letter from the owl. opened it, and read:
I don't know how you're keeping yourself out of the Daily Prophet, but on my career, I will let the public know of your secrets and I will bury you.
-Rita Skeeter
Marcus blanched upon reading this. Surely, she wasn't referring to what he thought she was referring to...
"Blimey, Marcus!" said Ron. "What did you do to make her mad?!"
"I didn't do anything!" said Marcus. "It's probably due to her vendetta against my parents."
"And what could she be talking about, 'your secrets'?" Harry asked.
"She's bluffing," Marcus stated. "She doesn't have anything on me." He then thought, "At least, I don't think she does."
Hermione didn't turn up for Herbology. As Marcus, Harry, and Ron left the greenhouse for their Care of Magical Creatures class, they saw Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle descending the stone steps of the castle. Pansy Parkinson was whispering and giggling behind them with her gang of Slytherin girls. Catching sight of Harry, Pansy called, "Potter, have you split up with your girlfriend? Why was she so upset at breakfast?"
Marcus chose to ignore this, as that would only give her the satisfaction she didn't deserve.
Hagrid, who had told them last lesson that they had finished with unicorns, was waiting for them outside his cabin with a fresh supply of open crates at his feet. Marcus' heart dropped at the the sight of the crates. He was hoping that Hagrid didn't pull off another Skrewt hatching. However, upon looking inside the crates, he saw a number of fluffy black creatures with long snouts, much to his relief. Their front paws were curiously flat, like spades, and they were blinking up at the class, looking politely puzzled at all the attention.
"These're nifflers," said Hagrid, when the class had gathered around. "Yeh find 'em down mines mostly. They like sparkly stuff...There yeh go, look."
One of the nifflers had suddenly leapt up and attempted to bite Pansy Parkinson's watch off her wrist. She shrieked and jumped backward.
"Usefull little treasure detectors," said Hagrid happily. "Thought we'd have some fun with 'em today. See over there?" He pointed at the large patch of freshly turned. "I've buried some gold coins. I've got a prize fer whoever picks the niffler that digs up most. Jus' take off all yer valuables, an' choose a niffler, an' get ready ter set 'em loose."
Marcus started to feel nervous, as his armguards where very much shiny and there was no taking them off even if he wanted to. Regardless, he still grabbed a niffler, which, as he thought it would, started to hone in on his armguards.
"Hang on," said Hagrid, looking down into the crate, "there's a spare niffler here...who's missin'? Where's Hermione?"
"She had to go to the hospital wing," said Ron.
"We'll explain later," Harry muttered; Pansy Parkinson was listening.
For almost everyone, it was easily the most fun they had ever had in Care of Magical Creatures. The nifflers dived in and out of the patch of earth as though it were water, each scurrying back to the student who had released it and spitting gold into their hands. Ron's was particularly efficient; it had son filled his lap with coins.
The only one who didn't get to enjoy the lesson was Marcus, due to his niffler stubbornly going after his armguards and having no interest in the coins whatsoever.
"Can you buy these as pets, Hagrid?" he asked excitedly as his niffler dived back into the soil, splattering his robes.
"Yer mum wouldn' be happy, Ron," said Hagrid, grinning. "They wreck houses, nifflers. I reckon they've nearly got the lot, now," he added, pacing around the patch of earth while the nifflers continued to dive. "I on'y buried a hundred coins. Oh there y'are, Hermione!"
Hermione was walking toward them across the lawn. Her hands were very heavily bandaged and she looked miserable. Pansy Parkinson was watching her beadily.
"Well, let's check how yeh've done!" said Hagrid. "Count yer coins! An' there's no point tryin' ter steal any, Goyle," he added, his beetle-black eyes narrowed. "It's leprechaun gold. Vanishes after a few hours. Same thing with Star Men gold."
Goyle emptied his pockets, looking extremely sulky. It turned out that Ron's niffler had been most successful, so Hagrid gave him an enormous slab of Honeydukes chocolate for a prize. The bell rang across the grounds for lunch; the rest of the class set off back to the castle, but Marcus, Harry, Ron, and Hermione stayed behind to put the nifflers back in their boxes. Marcus noticed that Madame Maxime watching them out of her carriage window.
"What yeh done ter your hands, Hermione?" said Hagrid, looking concerned.
Hermione told him about the hate mail she had received that morning, and the envelope full of bubotuber pus.
"Aaah, don' worry," said Hagrid gently, looking down at her. "I got some o' those letters an' all, after Rita Skeeter wrote abou' me mum. 'Yeh're a monster an' yeh should be put down.' 'Yer mother killed innocent people an' if you had any decency you'd jump in a lake.'"
"No!" said Hermione, looking shocked.
"Yeah," said Hagrid, heaving the niffler crates over by his cabin wall. "They're jus' nutters, Hermione. Don' open 'em if yeh get any more. Chuck 'em straigh' in the fire."
"You missed a really good lesson," Harry told Hermione as they headed back toward the castle. "They're good, nifflers, aren't they, Ron?"
Ron, however, was frowning at the chocolate Hagrid had given him. He looked thoroughly put out about something.
"What's wrong, Ron?" Marcus asked. "Is the chocolate gold not to your liking?"
"No," said Ron shortly. "Why didn't you tell me about the gold?"
"What gold?" said Harry.
"The gold I gave you at the Quidditch World Cup," said Ron. "The Star Men's gold I gave you for my Omnioculars. In the Top Box. Why did you tell me it disappeared?"
Marcus saw Harry contemplating, no doubt trying to figure out what Ron was talking about.
"Oh..."Harry stated at last. "I dunno...I never noticed it had gone. I was more worried about my wand, wasn't I?"
They climbed the steps into the entrance hall and went into the Great Hall for lunch.
"Must be nice," Ron said abruptly, when they had sat down and started serving themselves roast beef and Yorkshire puddings. "To have so much money you don't notice if a pocketful of Galleons goes missing."
"Listen, I had other stuff on my mind that night!" said Harry with a tone of impatience. "We all did, remember?"
"I didn't know the Star Men gold vanishes," Ron muttered. "Marcus, did you know?"
"I only remembered after we returned from the World Cup," admitted Marcus. "I was too caught up in the match to give it much thought."
"And here I thought I was paying you back, Harry. You shouldn't've given me that Chudley Cannon hat for Christmas."
"Forget it, all right?" said Harry.
Ron speared a roast potato on the end of his fork, glaring at it. Then he said, "I hate being poor."
Marcus, Harry, and Hermione all looked at each other. None of them really knew what to say.
"It's rubbish," said Ron, still glaring down at his potato. "I don't blame Fred and George for trying to make some extra money. Wish I could. Wish I had a niffler."
"Well, we know what to get you next Christmas," said Hermione brightly. Then, when Ron continued to look gloomy, she said, "Come on, Ron, it could be worse. At least your fingers aren't full of pus." Hermione was having a lot of difficulty managing her knife and fork, her fingers were so stiff and swollen. "I hate that Skeeter woman!" she burst out savagely. "I'll get her back for this if it's the last thing I do!"
Hate mail continued to arrive for Hermione over the following week, and although she followed Hagrid's advice and stopped opening it, several of her ill-wishers sent Howlers, which exploded at the Gryffindor table and shrieked insults at her for the whole Hall to hear. Even those people who didn't read Witch Weekly knew all about the supposed Harry-Krum-Hermione triangle now. Marcus was grateful he wasn't wrapped up in all of that nonsense. He had enough to worry about.
"It'll die down, though," Marcus heard Harry telling Hermione, "if we just ignore it...People got bored with that stuff she wrote about me last time -"
"I want to know how she's listening into private conversations when she's supposed to be banned from the grounds!" said Hermione angrily.
Hermione hung back in their next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson to ask Professor Moody something. The rest of the class was very eager to leave; Moody had given them such a rigorous test of hex-deflection that Marcus was the only one that came out the other side unscathed. The rest of them were nursing small injuries.
"Well, Rita's definitely not using an Invisibility Cloak!" Hermione panted five minutes alter, catching up with Marcus, Harry, and Ron in the entrance hall and pulling Harry's hand away from one of his wiggling ears so that he could hear her. "Moody says he didn't see her anywhere near the judges' table at the second task, or anywhere near the lake! Marcus, have you seen anything with your enhanced vision?"
"Nothing to indicate Skeeter's whereabouts," said Marcus. "Then again, I haven't been looking all that hard lately."
"Hermione, is there any point in telling you to drop this?" said Ron.
"No!" said Hermione stubbornly. "I want to know how she heard me talking to Viktor! And how she found out about Hagrid's mum!"
"Maybe she had you bugged," said Harry.
"Bugged?" said Ron blankly. "What...put fleas on her or something?"
Harry started explaining about hidden microphones and recording equipment. Ron was fascinated, but Hermione interrupted them.
"Aren't you two ever going to read Hogwarts, A History?"
"What's the point?" said Ron. "You and Marcus know it by heart, we can just ask you two."
"All those substitues for magic Muggles use - electricity, computers, and radar, and all those things - they all go haywire around Hogwarts, there's too much magic in the air," Hermione stated.
"She's right," Marcus said. "The only possible way Rita's successfully eavesdropping around Hogwarts is by using magic. There's nothing else to explain it."
"If I could just find out what it is," Hermione continued. "Ooh, if it's illegal, I'll have her..."
"Haven't we got enough to worry about?" Ron asked her. "Do we have to start a vendetta against Rita Skeeter as well?"
"I'm not asking you to help!" Hermione snapped. "I'll do it on my own!"
She marched back up the marble staircase without a backward glance. Marcus knew without a doubt that she was making a beeline to the library.
"What's the betting she comes back with a box of I Hate Rita Skeeter badges?" said Ron.
Hermione, however, did not ask the boys to help her pursue vengeance against Rita Skeeter, for which they were all grateful for, because their workload was mounting at an alarming rate, due to having the exams moved up a whole month early, no doubt because of the Third Task. Marcus put forth every effort just to make it through all the homework and training, though he made sure to collaborate with Harry on sending regular food packages up to the cave in the mountain for Sirius; he would make sure to have Sirius suffer as least as humanly possible. They enclosed notes to Sirius, telling him that nothing out of the ordinary happened, and that they were still waiting for an answer from Percy.
Hedwig didn't return until the end of the Easter Holidays. Percy's letter was enclosed in a package of Easter eggs that Mrs. Weasley had sent. Marcus', Harry's and Ron's packages were the size of dragon eggs and full of homemade toffee. Hermione's, however, was smaller than a chicken egg. Her face fell when she saw it.
"Your mum doesn't read Witch Weekly, by any chance, does she, Ron?" she asked quietly.
"Yeah," said Ron, whose mouth was full of toffee. "Gets it for the recipes."
Hermione looked sadly at her tiny egg.
"Don't you want to see what Percy's written?" Harry asked her hastily.
Percy's letter was short and irritated.
As I am constantly telling the Daily Prophet, Mr. Crouch is taking a well-deserved break. He is sending in regular owls with instructions. No, I haven't actually seen him, but I think I can be trusted to know my own superior's handwriting. I have quite enough to do at the moment without trying to quash these ridiculous rumors. Please don't bother me again unless it's something important. Happy Easter.
"Well, that was a giant waste of time," Marcus stated. "He didn't respond with anything that we couldn't already figure out."
The Dark Prince was happy with the progress he had made on speeding up the potion to be ready in time, alongside being able to improve his physique. It was most certainly not easy to juggle the two, but it was necessary.
Unfortunately for the Dark Prince, he heard Wormtail's voice saying, "My Prince, the Dark Lord wishes to know the progress on the potion."
"It is coming along nicely," stated the Dark Prince. "I'll have it primed and ready to go in three weeks time...that is, if peons like you don't distract me."
Wormtail slightly whimpered, but didn't say anything.
"Oh, Wormtail," said the Dark Prince, still concentrating on the potion. "You wouldn't happen to know how our guest is doing, would you?"
The Dark Prince heard absolutely nothing from Wormtail, to which he stopped what he was doing.
"Wormtail," he stated in a deadly calm that seemed to suck the surrounding area into darkness, "You better start telling me the status of our guest before I force the truth out of you."
"He's -" Wormtail started to say, but then made the mistake of looking at the Dark Prince's red eyes full of hatred and squeaked, "-escaped."
"What?" said the Dark Prince, his anger getting the best of him. "How long ago did this happen?!"
Wormtail squeaked in fright, "The beginning of this month."
"THREE WEEKS?!" roared the Dark Prince, grabbing Wormtail by the collar and throwing him straight through a living room pillar. "Damn it all! If only I had been told when it happened, I could've taken care of the matter! However -"
He put his left index finger to his right shoulder and thought, "This is the Dark Prince. Respond."
"Yes, my Dark Prince?" thought the person the Dark Prince intended to contact.
"Our 'guest' has escaped our grasps and is due to be in your area anyday now," thought the Dark Prince. "Keep a sharp lookout and, upon confirmation and contact, take care of our guest in a way that'll reveal nothing of our plans."
"It will be done, my Prince," thought the other person.
The Dark Prince released his finger from his shoulder and looked at Wormtail, who was slowly getting up.
"You better hope this blunder will be taken care of, peon," growled the Dark Prince, "or a much worse fate will be in store for you."
Wormtail squeaked in terror as the Dark Prince turned his attention back to the potion...
The start of the summer term would normally have meant that Marcus would be training hard for the last Quidditch match of the season. This year, however, it was the third and final task in the Triwizard Tournament for which Marcus wanted to fully prepare for, but it didn't do much good not knowing what exactly to prepare for. However, that was remedied in the last week of April, when Professor McGonagall held him and Harry back in Transfiguration.
"You two are to go down to the Quidditch field tonight at nine o'clock, boys," she told them. "Mr. Bagman will be there to tell the champions about the third task."
So, at half past eight that night, Marcus and Harry left Ron and Hermione in Gryffindor Tower and went downstairs.
"What d'you reckon it's going to be?" Harry asked Marcus.
"Not sure," Marcus responded. "Fluer insists that underground tunnels are involved, reckoning we've got to find treasure."
"That wouldn't be too bad," said Harry. "Say, how are you and Fleur doing?"
"Fantastic," stated Marcus. "I've spend time with her every chance I've been able to. Nothing but good things here."
"Glad to hear it," said Harry. "And the fact that you're competitors doesn't create any rifts?"
"That's something we usually avoid," said Marcus. "It's something we both agreed on."
They started walking down the dark lawn to the Quidditch stadium, turned through a gap in the stands, and walked onto the field.
"What the hell have they done to it?!" Marcus said in anger, halting himself.
The Quidditch field was no longer smooth and flat. It looked as though somebody had been building long, low walls all over it that twisted and crisscrossed in every direction.
"They're hedges!" said Harry, bending to examine the nearest one.
"Hello there!" called a cheery voice.
Ludo Bagman was standing in the middle of the field with Krum and Fleur. Marcus and Harry made their way toward them, climbing over the hedges. Fleur beamed at Harry as they came nearer, then blew Marcus a kiss, which made him blush. Her attitude toward Harry had changed completely since the Second Task, something that relieved Marcus greatly.
"Well, what d'you think?" said Bagman happily and Marcus and Harry climbed over the last hedge. "Growing nicely, aren't they? Give them a month and Hagrid'll have them twenty feet high. Don't worry," he added, grinning, spotting the less-than-happy expressions on Marcus' and Harry's faces, "you'll have your Quidditch field back to normal once the task is over! Now, I imagine you can guess what we're making here?"
No one spoke for a moment. Then -
"Maze," grunted Krum.
"That's right!" said Bagman. "A maze. The third task's really very straightforward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the center of the maze. The first champion to touch it will receive full marks."
"We seemply 'ave to get through the maze?" said Fleur.
"There will be obstacles," said Bagman happily, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Hagrid is providing a number of creatures...then there will be spells that must be broken...all that sort of thing, you know. Now, the champions who are leading on points will get a head start into the maze." Bagman grinned at Marcus and Harry. "Then Mr. Krum will enter...then Miss Delacour. But you'll all be in with a fighting chance, depending how well you get past the obstacles. Should be fun, eh?"
Marcus, knowing too well the kind of creatures Hagrid was likely to provide for an event like this, slightly sweatdropped at the thought of how much it wasn't going to be fun, but nonetheless nodded politely with the other champions.
"Very well...if you haven't got any questions, we'll go back up to the castle, shall we, it's a bit chilly..."
As Marcus saw Harry walking back to the castle, Bagman hurrying alongside him, he turned his attention to Fleur.
"Well, shall I escort you to your carriage?" asked Marcus, extending his right arm.
"Why, of course, Mar-kees," she said with a smile, linking her left arm with his right arm.
As they started walking towards the Beauxbatons carriage, Marcus said, "I can't believe it's almost over."
"Seemed like it was only yesterday," stated Fleur.
"What will you do, once you're done with Beauxbatons?"
"I've seemply 'aven't thought about it too much," stated Fleur. "I want to get through zis first."
"Fair enough," stated Marcus with a smirk.
"What will you do, Mar-kees, once you school year iz over?"
"Do more training over the summer. Learn all that I can. Maybe even see if I can have my Dad bring me for Death Eater training a couple of times."
"Still focused, I see."
"That's just the nature of things for me," stated Marcus, his smirk vanishing.
Much too short for his liking, they were in front of the Beauxbatons carriage.
"Well, here we are," stated Marcus. "Shall I see you soon?"
"Of course, Mar-kees," stated Fluer, who kissed Marcus. "'Ave a good night, darling!"
Once Fleur was in the carriage, Marcus started to walk back up to the school, thinking how nice of a night it was when -
"Marcus, there you are!" said a voice he all too well recognized.
He looked to see Cedric and Lorelei standing not fifty feet away.
"Lorelei! Cedric!" said Marcus, smiling. "What're you two doing out here?!"
"We wanted to surprise you," stated Lorelei. "Ask you what the Third Task involves, maybe come up with a couple of strategies."
"Oh, most definitely!" said Marcus. "I think -"
But what his thought on the Third Task was, Cedric and Lorelei didn't get a chance to hear it, for Marcus suddenly dropped to his knees.
"Marcus!" cried Cedric. "What's wrong?!"
"Crap, my sense have gone out of whack again!" thought Marcus. He was caught off guard because he had done a much better job of controlling his heightened senses since the First Task. For something like this to happen now simply baffled him.
"Perhaps we should take you to the Hospital Wing, Marcus," stated Lorelei.
"No, I'll be -"
Then he heard something bizarre.
"...and then send another owl to Madame Maxime, because she might want to up the number of students she's bringing, now Karkaroff's made it a round dozen...do that, Weatherby, will you? Will you? Will..."
Marcus knew that, despite hearing it like he was standing right there, that the voice was further away. Moreover, that voice definitely belonged to -
" -Barty Crouch Sr.?!" Marcus stated in confusion, looking toward the forest.
"What the -?!" Cedric said.
"What are you talking about, Marcus?!" Lorelei said, sounding greatly confused.
"He's here on Hogwarts grounds!" stated Marcus, taking off in the direction of the voice. "We've got to find him!"
Cedric and Lorelei, with no other choice, chased after him, still feeling confused.
They were approaching Hagrid's cabin when Marcus suddenly stopped and hid behind a nearby tree, seeing a rather bizarre scene.
Mr. Crouch was in front of Harry and Viktor Krum, and he looked much worse for the wear. The knees of his robes were ripped and bloody, his face scratched, giving Marcus the impression that he'd been traveling for a long time. He was unshaven and gray with exhaustion. His neat hair and mustache were both in need of a wash and a trim. His strange appearance, however, was nothing to the way he was behaving. Muttering and gesticulating, he looked like he was looking and talking to someone else, despite standing right in front of Harry and Krum.
"What in the -?!" Marcus started to say, enhancing his vision to try and confirm what he was seeing. "-Mr. Crouch's a freaking wreck!"
"What is he even doing here in such a state?!" said Cedric, who had caught up with Marcus alongside Lorelei. "I thought he was bedridden, or something like that."
"Clearly, that's a load of crap," said Lorelei, surveying the scene. "Though, he doesn't seem to be all there."
"That's saying it lightly," stated Marcus, watching him sort of talking to Harry. "Looks like he's trying to get help. Dumbledore, maybe?"
"Why would Mr. Crouch be looking for Dumbledore?" Cedric asked.
"Not a clue on that one," Marcus stated. "I'm going to try and hear what he's saying, so stay silent for a few."
He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing, to try and concentrate on the distant conversation.
"Warn...Dumbledore..." Crouch said very weakly.
"I'll get Dumbledore if you let go of me," said Harry. "Just let go, Mr. Crouch, and I'll get him..."
"Thank you, Weatherby, and when you have done that, I would like a cup of tea. My wife and son will be arriving shortly, we are attending a concert tonight with Mr. and Mrs. Fudge."
Marcus tried to keep his sense of hearing a bit raised while keeping his eyes open, which was good as he saw that Crouch started to talk to a tree rather fluently, completely unaware of anyone else around him.
"Yes, my son has recently gained twelve O.W.L.'s, most satisfactory, yes, thank you, yes, very proud indeed. Now, if you could bring me that memo from the Andorran Minister of Magic, I think I will have time to draft a response..."
Marcus turned to Cedric and Lorelei and said, "This is crazy! Here's Mr. Crouch, absolutely mad, looking like crap on the edge of the Forbidden Forest!"
"Let's keep listening," said Lorelei, the three of them turning their attention back to the utterly weird scene.
Marcus saw Mr. Crouch seizing Harry around his knees rather hard, pulling him back to the ground.
"Don't...leave...me!" he whispered to Harry, his eyes bulging again. "I...escaped...must warn...must tell...see Dumbledore...my fault...all my fault...Bertha...dead...all my fault...my son...my fault...tell Dumbledore..Harry Potter...Marcus Williams...the Dark Lord...stronger...Harry Potter...Marcus Williams..."
Marcus turned back to Cedric and Lorelei, blanched. He could see that Lorelei and Cedric were also blanched.
"Bertha Jorkins dead?" stated Marcus.
"The Dark Lord getting stronger?" Lorelei stated.
"And it's all his fault?" Cedric stated.
"Oh my God," stated Marcus, turning and seeing Harry running to the front doors of the castle. "I think Mr. Crouch is the key!"
"Key to what?" said Cedric and Lorelei together.
"Everything!" stated Marcus. "The tournament shenanigans, the mysterious events this past summer, everything! We just need to -?!"
He then fell silent upon the startling sight of Krum's body suddenly falling to the ground.
"Oh, no," stated Marcus, who had returned his vision to normal a little bit ago, enhanced it once more and was horrified.
He was seeing a figure he didn't see before, no doubt due to being invisible, turning his attention to the mad Mr. Crouch. The figure in question was covered in a pitch black aura, which to Marcus meant -
"Oh, dear God, no," stated Marcus.
"What?! What do you see, Marcus?!" asked Lorelei.
Marcus could only watch as the pitch black figure was right above Mr. Crouch when, suddenly, he saw the figure's head turn in their direction and started to walk their way -
"SCRAMBLE!" Marcus told Cedric and Lorelei. "NOW!"
Hearing the urgency in Marcus' voice, they didn't bother asking questions as the three of them took off in the direction opposite of the figure.
"Disillusionment Charms, now!" Marcus stated. "Lorelei, shift into Solaris and fly to your dormitory! Cedric, we're going to go through the front doors! All of us are to meet in the Room of Requirement as soon as possible! Now, go!"
All three of them cast the Disillusionment Charm on themselves, and Marcus could hear the sudden whoosh of flapping wings. Marcus summoned his wand and lit the tip of his wand with just enough light for Cedric to follow.
It all happened really fast. Not knowing if the figure in the pitch-black aura was able to chase them, they weren't sticking around long enough to find out. They made a mad dash through the front doors, up the staircases (and avoiding anyone they happened to see along the way) until they finally made it into the Room of Requirement, where Lorelei was waiting for them.
"What the hell was that all about?!" said Lorelei, freaked out. "What did we just witness?!"
"Something we clearly weren't meant to see," said Cedric, looking quite pale. "I can't even wrap my head around it!"
"For Mr. Crouch to appear in such a condition and mental state after all this time, it's just unthinkable!" said Marcus. "It's driving me mad!"
"We'll have to shelve this discovery for the time being!" stated Cedric. "We need to get you focused for the Third Task! Now, what did Mr. Bagman say this task was going to entail?"
Marcus took a few deep breaths, then stated, "I have to make it through a maze on the Quidditch Field and get to the Triwizard Cup that'll be situated in the center of it."
"That's all?" said Lorelei. "That seems way too simple."
"Actually, they're going to set up spells and creatures to slow down the champions," stated Marcus.
"That's nothing for you," stated Cedric. "After the first two tasks, this should be a cakewalk."
"Hagrid's providing the creatures."
At this statement, both Cedric and Lorelei blanched.
"Maybe not so much of a cakewalk," Lorelei said, sweatdropping a bit.
"I've heard stories," said Cedric. "I only hope I'm wrong."
"In terms of creatures, most likely not," said Marcus. "Regardless, I'm psyched."
"Huh?" said Lorelei and Cedric together.
"After this task is over, I can resume normal training and refocus on my target," said Marcus, excitedly making a right handed fist in front of his face. "I've made progress, sure, but after this, I'll make leaps and bounds, you can count on that!"
Unbeknowst to Marcus, Cedric and Lorelei shared a brief look of worry, knowing exactly what he was referring to, but didn't say anything on that as Cedric said, "Well, if it's a maze of spells and creatures, then I know a slew of spells you should focus on mastering! What do you say, Marcus? Shall we proceed?"
"Absolutely!" said Marcus, making an excited grin. "Let's do this!"
And this concludes another chapter of HP: Path of Trials! Feel free to leave a review on this story, as your input will help me be a better writer! Also, if you have any questions for me personally, don't hesitate to leave me a PM and, I promise, I will answer them to the best of my abilities. Otherwise, keep your eyes peeled for the next chapter of HP: Path of Trials!
