A/N: Hey everyone! We're getting down to the last couple chapters. This one in particular is full of important stuff, and it's really long. So read it when you have lots of time because I don't want you to miss stuff. (grins) Enjoy!
The Beginning of the End:
The Third Task
Dumbledore wasn't at breakfast the next morning. The headmaster often missed meals lately, so the boys weren't worried. Lunch came and went, still no headmaster. Harry was starting to feel a bit tense, just wanting to get this over with. Thankfully, Dumbledore was back by dinner. It was hard, but Harry managed not to look over at Draco. Instead, he patted his pocket, making sure he had the vial of poison wrapped in the trigger spell. He fingered the wand up his sleeve and got ready.
Suddenly Peeves came shooting into the Hall. Cries of dismay ran through the seated students, even the first years knew enough by now to flinch away from the annoying poltergeist. Several teachers stood, but Peeves was quicker still. He shot over to the Slytherin table, hooting as he threw a dozen water balloons. Loud screams and curses were being shouted as the ghost did a flip.
"You's should be grateful little snakes," the ghost sing-songed. "Didn't anyone ever tell you April showers bring May flowers?"
Harry flicked his wand, silently mouthing the Banishing Charm as Severus cast a drying charm at his House. Dumbledore stood and glared merrily at Peeves, telling him he knew he wasn't aloud in the Great Hall. The ghost went, cackling loudly. McGonagall came over and began scolding the twins heatedly for setting this up. No one believed them when they protested they didn't do it.
Harry watched out of the corner of his eye as the Headmaster chuckled, shaking his head, and took a sip from his goblet. He set it back down and began eating, none the wiser. Harry smiled grimly. It worked; it had actually worked.
"Think they did it?" Neville asked from Harry's side.
"No," Ginny shook her head, frowning at her brothers. "They wouldn't be this upset over being caught if they had done it. They like being recognized for their pranks."
"I guess," Harry shrugged. "I think it's funny no matter who did it."
"I agree!" Ron laughed. "The Slytherins looked like drowned rats!"
"Professor Snape doesn't look too happy," Hermione murmured. "I hope he doesn't find out who did it."
Harry looked up to see his mentor scowling at the rest of the Houses. Particularly at the Gryffindor table. "I think whoever did it would have covered their tracks for just that reason," he said, smiling serenely.
"True," Neville nodded. "But I would be more worried about the twins finding out. They look even angrier, and they can do more damage than Professor Snape."
Ginny's eyes went wide. "You have no idea how right you are, Nev."
They all sort of shivered and then began to laugh. The twins stuck their tongues out, but didn't look at all like they were going to be merciful to whomever had out-pranked them and arranged for them to take the fall. They began whispering to each other, and Fred got out some parchment and ink. Lee and Katie tried to see over their shoulders, but the twins blocked them.
"Bet they're writing Padfoot," Ron whispered.
"And so a prank war begins," Ginny sighed dramatically.
Harry grinned down at his food and silently applauded the blonde. He had a feeling that it was going to be simple to dose the headmaster from now on.
xXxXxXx
Fred and George did indeed start a prank war. Draco participated just enough to keep them interested in continuing the pranks, doing two stunts to every five of the twins. Fred and George had no idea who they were up against, even though they still tried to get Peeves to confess. Harry was able to successfully slip Dumbledore five doses of the poison over the next four weeks, and he only had half the vial left.
May 24th arrived and that night all the champions were told to meet on the Quidditch Pitch. Harry was looking forward to it, if only because he'd be able to corner Viktor. He had tried twice to talk to the Seeker, but Viktor managed to escape both times. Hermione said she had asked him why he was avoiding Harry, but he wouldn't answer her. She hadn't pushed it, not wanting to upset him.
Summer was just starting, but it was dark by eight-thirty when Harry made his way outside. He ran into Cedric on the way, and the two champions made their way toward the Pitch. Both of them stopped dead when they passed through the stands to see thick, ugly hedges growing where smooth lawn should have been.
"What have they done to it?" Cedric asked with horror.
"Hello there!" called a cheery voice and they turned to see Ludo Bagman waving them over. He was standing in the middle of the mess of hedges with Viktor and Fleur already at his side. Harry and Cedric made their way over. "Well, what do you think?" Bagman asked excitedly when they were within easy speaking distance. "Growing nicely, aren't they? Give them a month and Hagrid'll have them twenty feet high! Don't worry," he added, spotting Cedric's grimace, "you'll have your Quidditch field pack to normal once the task is over! Now, I imagine you can guess what we're making here?"
"A maze," Viktor scowled.
"That's right! 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?" Fleur frowned doubtfully, flicking her long, blonde hair gracefully over her shoulder.
Bagman happily explained that there would be creatures provided by Hagrid (this caused Harry and Cedric to wince) and spells to break, as well as having to deal with the maze itself. The first one to the Cup won. Harry and Cedric would start first, then Viktor, and last Fleur. Supposedly they all had a chance at winning.
The four champions disbanded, glum and staring at the maze as they made their way back to their carriages, ship, or castle. Harry jogged quickly up to Viktor's side. The Seeker kept glaring straight ahead, as if he didn't notice the fourteen-year-old walking beside him. Harry glared a bit himself and stopped the Bulgarian with a firm hand on his arm.
"Can we talk?" he asked stiffly.
Viktor looked like he wished he could do anything else, but nodded. Harry veered away from the lake and the Pitch, heading toward the forest edge. It was dark, but the moon was bright and he didn't want anyone to be able to see them. Viktor followed without protest. They stopped only a few feet into the trees. Harry knew how dangerous it could be and wasn't willing to go any farther.
"We won't be overheard," he said and lifted an eyebrow expectantly, his arms crossed over his chest. "Why are you avoiding me?"
"I vant you to know ve are friends," Viktor began, glowering at the trees and not meeting Harry's eyes. "But I must vin dis tournament. I cannot lose, you understand. It is very important for me. Much depends on de result."
Harry eyed the tall and burly Seeker. "I don't care if you win. Honest, Viktor. I'm not in it for the Cup."
"Then…" Viktor stared at him like he were from another planet.
"I can't explain. No more than you can tell me why it's so important for you win," Harry smiled wryly. "You'll just have to believe me."
Viktor stared at him for a minute before relaxing, his face softening with a slight smile. "I do trust you."
"Good…" Harry said and was about to say something else when something moved in the forest. His hand snapped up and silenced the Seeker, while his other aimed his wand.
Suddenly a man staggered out form behind a tall oak. Harry immediately cast a binding spell, but the man dodged under it. He wasn't able to avoid Viktor's stunner, however. "Crouch!" Harry growled, flipping the man over and casting a light Lumos. He bound the man up with a quick spell and was about to wake him when Viktor grabbed his arm.
"Vot are you doing? Isn't he a judge?" he hissed.
Harry stared down at the man. He looked a mess. His robes were torn and filthy; his hair was standing up every which way and leaves and twigs were stuck throughout it. He looked very little like the man who came to judge them for every task. "I just want to question him. Then we'll get the others." Harry pulled his arm free.
Crouch came awake, babbling uselessly to someone named Weatherby (Harry suspected he meant Percy). Harry shouted Crouch's name several times to no effect and finally resorted to slapping him. Viktor was staring at Harry with dark watchful eyes, and the teen fought the impulse to just Stupefy the Seeker.
"Dumbledore!" Crouch gasped, reaching out and seizing Harry by his robes. "I need… see… Dumbledore…"
"Vot is rong with him?"
"No idea," Harry breathed, his attention still on the man before them.
"I've done… stupid… thing…" Crouch breathed. He looked utterly mad. His eyes were rolling and bulging, and a trickle of spittle was sliding down his chin. Every word he spoke seemed to cost him a terrible effort. "Must… tell… Dumbledore…"
"Tell him what?" Harry coaxed.
"Warn… Dumbledore…" he gasped and hissed, his lips peeled back from his teeth. "Must tell… Dumbledore… my fault… all my fault… Bertha… dead… all my fault… my son… my fault… Dark Lord… stronger… warn Harry… Potter…"
"Where is your son?" Harry demanded, staring into the man's eyes intently.
But Crouch's strength finally gave and he fell backward, limp, muttering and babbling insanely once again. Harry sneered in disgust and stood. Viktor was looking a bit disturbed himself and was backing away. "Wait." Harry gestured for him to come back. "Will you watch him? Make sure no one comes near him. I'll be right back with help." Viktor looked like he would refuse. "Please?" Harry asked.
"Okay. Hurry, von't you?" he relented, kneeling next to the drooling madman.
Harry nodded and sprinted back toward the castle. He had no intention of getting the headmaster, however, and made his way toward the dungeons. Luckily, Severus was already on his way up, and they meant right in front of the Great Hall.
"What is it?" Severus asked intensely, knowing immediately something was wrong.
"Crouch showed up in the forest. Something's wrong with him," Harry said quickly, breathing heavily.
"Show me." He grabbed the teen's shoulder and propelled him back outside.
But before he could take a step, Dumbledore called from behind them, "Is there a problem?"
"It appears Potter has found someone on the school grounds. I was going to take a look," Severus answered evenly.
"Lead the way, Harry," Dumbledore said with a worried frown.
Harry nodded stiffly, turning quickly so the old man couldn't see him grind his teeth in frustration. He led the two of them back toward the forest at a quick trot, all the while his mind was racing, trying to think of a way to remain on the scene and find out what was going on. When they reached the place Harry had left Crouch, he cursed. Viktor was laying on the ground unconscious and there was no sign of Crouch anywhere. Dumbledore bent over Viktor and softly spelled him awake.
Viktor gasped and tried to sit up, but Dumbledore kept a hand firmly on his shoulder. "He attacked me!" Viktor growled. "The old madman attacked me! I vos looking around to see vare Harry had gone and he attacked from behind!"
"Lie still for a moment," Dumbledore said gently, shooting a silver message off toward the castle. "Tell me what the man looked like."
Viktor stumbled his way through a description, but kept out any mention that Harry had questioned Crouch before fetching a teacher. Dumbledore's face grew more and more dark. He sent off another silver message.
"Severus, start looking for Barty Crouch. It is essential that we find him quickly," he said grimly.
The Potion Master nodded and disappeared into the dark trees. A second later, Moody came stomping up and was given the same directions. Karkaroff arrived a minute later. He looked livid. He was wearing his sleek silver furs and he held his wand in the open, ready to fire. "What is this?" he snarled when he saw Viktor laying on the ground next to Dumbledore and Harry. "What is going on?"
"I vos attacked!" Viktor said, finally forcing himself up right and rubbing at his head. "Crouch or votever his name…"
"The Triwizard judge attacked you?" the man spluttered, his face becoming a dangerous shade of red.
"Igor," Dumbledore began, but Karkaroff had drawn himself up, clutching his wand tightly.
"Treachery!" he bellowed. "It is a plot! You and your Ministry of Magic have lured me here under false pretenses, Dumbledore! This is not an equal competition! First you sneak Potter into the tournament, though he is underage! Now one of your Ministry friends attempts to put my champion out of action! I smell double-dealing and corruption in this whole affair, and you, Dumbledore, you, with your talk of closer international wizarding links, of rebuilding old ties, of forgetting old differences - this is what I think of you!"
Karkaroff spat at Dumbledore's feet. The old wizard just stared back at him solemnly. Karkaroff snarled again, grabbed Viktor by the arm, and stormed off, promising dire retribution. Harry shifted his weight, suddenly aware he was alone with the headmaster, somewhere he had promised himself to avoid.
"Harry…" the man sighed tiredly. "Harry, I want you to go up to Gryffindor Tower and stay there. Anything you might want to do - any owls you might want to send - they can wait until morning, do you understand me?"
"Yes, sir," Harry nodded his head and left the woods. He wondered fleetingly if Dumbledore thought he was going to write Remus or Sirius, but was soon thinking about Crouch. He knew Severus would tell him everything later. In fact, he would go up to the Tower, collect his cloak and possibly Neville, and return to the dungeons to wait for him.
xXxXxXx
Severus came back to his rooms around dawn to find Harry and Neville waiting for him. They looked at him hopefully, but he could only shake his head. They had found no trace of Crouch in the forest. He then demanded that Harry retell what Crouch said several times. None of them knew what to make of it besides the obvious.
"What do you think was wrong with him?" Neville asked softly.
"I would say a mind altering curse or potion of some kind," Severus answered absently. His gaze sharpened as he looked at Harry. "I am more concerned that you willingly walked out-of-bounds with Krum, of all people. You are well aware someone is after you, and whoever absconded with Crouch must have been mere feet away from you in the forest! How could you do something so reckless?"
"It was dangerous," Harry allowed. "It won't happen again."
"I should hope not," Severus sneered.
"Now what?" Neville asked nervously, looking from his Professor to his brother.
"We wait and watch," Harry shrugged. "Nothing has changed really. I have to learn my Animagus form before the task, and we need to keep our eyes open for more clues. Whoever is behind this messed up. They might do it again."
Severus nodded, his expression hard. "I will keep looking for Crouch." He glared at the two boys sharp enough to cut them. "You two: stay out of trouble!"
xXxXxXx
Harry was walking to the library, his mind on what happened the night before with Crouch. Lunch had just finished and he had two hours before his next class. It was a good time to study his form, but he was having a hard time concentrating. He felt edgy and agitated, but wasn't sure why. Scowling and wiping sweat from his brow, he turned the last corner before the library doors.
Suddenly, his scar began to tingle and then burn; the pain steadily increasing. Hissing, Harry hurried back the way he had come and slammed into an abandoned room. It was full of dusty furniture, but was too small to have been a classroom; maybe it was once an office? Harry cried out, falling to his knees. One hand clutched his head, while the other lifted his wand. He stuttered out the locking spell just before darkness swallowed him with jagged spikes…
…He was soaring, bodiless, toward the old ivory-covered house. It looked familiar, but it took him a moment to recognize it. It was the same house he had seen in the last vision of Voldemort and looked less frightening in the light of day. Moving on, Harry swooped in through an open window, gliding down an empty hallway till he reached a staircase. He flew up it silently and stopped at the opened door at the end of the hall.
The room was dirty and dark, the windows all boarded up. But there was a fireplace, and the small blaze cast light and shadows on the walls and ceiling. The only thing in the room was a large chair pulled close to the fire and a thick rug, stained in several places by dried blood. A huge snake was curled up there, as close to the fire as it could get. Next to the snake, a man cowered before the chair. Sweat glistened on the balding head, and Harry could hear pained sobs slipping out between tightly closed lips.
"You are in luck, Wormtail," Voldemort said, his voice cold and unforgettable.
Harry moved to see the disfigured creature sitting in the chair. It was pale and hairless; it's mouth looked huge and gaping. The small hands held a long wand, and it's eyes were bright with cruelty and madness. Harry had to clench his hands to prevent them from striking out at the disgusting figure. The wand twitched and Wormtail screamed, convulsing. It took several minutes for him to fall quiet again.
"You are very fortunate indeed," the evil creature hissed, the mouth making horrid wet smacking sound in between his words. "Your blunder has not ruined everything. He is dead and no one will be able to find his body."
"My Lord!" Wormtail gasped, exhausted and still shaking. "My Lord, I am… I am so pleased… and so sorry…"
"Nagini, you are out of luck. I will not be feeding Wormtail to you, after all… But never mind, never mind, there is still Harry Potter…" Voldemort began to laugh. Harry bit through his own lip to keep from screaming, just to drown out the sound. "Now, Wormtail, perhaps one more little reminder why I will not tolerate another blunder from you."
"My Lord… no… I beg you…" he sobbed brokenly.
The tip of the wand dipped again, this time Voldemort actually spoke the curse. "Crucio!"
And Wormtail screamed, and it wasn't a human sound. The way his whole body convulsed, his arms and legs thrashing, made Harry sick. And the screams got louder, longer, higher in pitch until Harry was screaming with him, his hands covering his ears until his scar began hurting so badly that he began scratching at it desperately…
Harry sat up, gasping and crying. His hands came away from his head slowly as the burning stopped. Blood slicked his palms and was drying under his fingernails. He swayed, his vision going gray a bit, but he grit his teeth and took deep breaths through his nose. He couldn't black out again. He didn't want to be pulled back into a vision.
As he gathered his strength, he tried to figure out what he had seen. Voldemort was pissed at Wormtail for failing to do something. Something that had to do with Crouch. But someone else - Crouch Jr? - was able to kidnap, kill, and hide Crouch before Crouch could do any damage to Voldemort's plan. But what the fuck was his plan? Harry punched the ground. Why couldn't he figure it out? It was right in front of him, he knew it!
But he wasn't going to figure it out like this. Slowly, he got to his feet and unlocked the door. A quick Tempus and he realized he had only a few more minutes until his next class. He washed up his head and hands, put on a glamour so the scratches and blood-red lightning scar looked normal again, and went to class. One thing was certain, he was running out of time.
xXxXxXx
The next few weeks were some of the most trying in Harry's life. Severus used every trick he knew and still could not find Crouch. Dumbledore was gone more and more often, fighting with the Ministry to keep them from canceling the tournament. Harry got very little sleep due to stressing over Crouch and Voldemort. He spent hours practicing his shielding and offensive spells, and in the middle of June was finally able to master the Animagus Transfiguration.
Neville, Severus, Sirius, and Remus were the only witnesses. Like his brother, Harry went to the Shrieking Shack. Thankfully it all went smoothly and the transfiguration was successful. Afterwards, he was so exhausted that he slept ten hours. Severus had to carry him back to the castle.
The day before the task, everyone in Hogwarts finished their end of term exams. Harry was glad it was over, but felt more relief over banishing the last of the poison into Dumbledore's goblet. He had also canceled the pre-task interview with Melissa Silverwood. He told her that he was busy preparing and didn't want to distract himself right now. She agreed completely, but made him promise to give her an interview after the tournament was over.
xXxXxXx
Harry sat on the blue couch, staring into the fire. Severus sat across from him, and Neville sat next to his brother. He looked pale and his face was damp with nervous sweat. They were both silent and worried for the thin fourteen-year-old. In a few hours, the task would begin.
Harry sneered, hating the tension and the silence. "I'm going to go for a walk," he said softly, standing.
"Harry…" Severus stood. His face was paler than normal and his lanky hair hung in greasy locks around his face. His eyes were like dark holes in his face and Harry felt himself smiling softly, seeing clearly how much Severus cared about him. "I want your promise. I know you accepted the magical contract by participating in the first task and cannot possibly refuse to participate now, but you must return if it gets dangerous. I do not care if the other champions are at risk."
"I will not sacrifice myself," Harry gave his word. He reached out and touched the man's forearm. "I'm just going to take a look around. If I see anything suspicious, I'll definitely call in the Calvary."
"Good luck, Shadow," Neville said warmly, coming up behind his brother and hugging him tight.
"Thanks." Harry squeezed him back briefly before pulling away and slipping out into the dungeon halls.
He didn't know where he was going. He was just walking. But somehow he wasn't surprised when he found himself making his way up to the third floor. Draco and he hadn't said they'd meet tonight, but Harry wasn't surprised to find the blonde in his customary place, leaning casually against the sink that led to the Chamber. Harry smiled at his friend, and the blonde saluted.
"I had a feeling you would eventually wander up here," he grinned.
"Did you?" Harry leaned against the sink across from him, mimicking his pose.
"Mmmm." Draco straightened and his face became serious. "Feeling nervous?"
"Not really," Harry shrugged. "But I should get at least a few hours sleep."
"Shadow…" Draco called as Harry turned to leave. "Good luck."
"Thanks," Harry smiled.
xXxXxXx
Saturday morning the whole school was buzzing with anticipation. Students would pause and stare at him, they even followed him to the library. Neville, Ginny, Hermione, Ron, and the twins walked around and behind him, making sure no one bothered him with questions. Harry felt like bursting into laugher, imaging himself the leader of some strange gang.
It got worse as time passed. Harry saw several girls looking flushed and giggling breathlessly as he made his way to lunch. It was like they couldn't wait to see someone torn limb-from-limb. The Hufflepuffs were especially rowdy. Unlike their normal behavior, they catcalled and shouted insults at Gryffindor. Ravenclaws, normally calm and quiet, were talking loudly, making predictions, bets, and arguing. Slytherin was sitting back and enjoying the show, hassling Gryffindors when they could.
The Great Hall ceiling was so blue it looked painted. There wasn't a single white cloud. Harry squinted his eyes behind his glasses and scowled down at his plate, now knowing why Viktor glared at everyone all the time. This was madness! He already had a migraine and he wasn't halfway through the meal. When he noticed Professor McGonagall approaching, he sighed deeply with relief.
"Potter, the champions are congregating in the chamber off the Hall after lunch," she said stiffly. "Your families are invited to watch the final task, and you are given this time to greet them. The Headmaster wants you to make an appearance." She gave him no time to reply as she continued on down the table.
"He wouldn't have…" Harry said faintly, staring blindly after her.
"I'm sure the Dursleys aren't here," Neville quickly reassured. He put a hand on his brother's shoulder and Harry flinched away. Blushing, Neville quickly tried to calm him. "They hate magic! They'd rather die than come here!"
"True." Harry shook himself and stood. "I might as well get this over with. See you after the task, brother."
"Good luck, Harry!" Ginny enthused.
"We both bet on you!" the twins cheered.
"You'll do fine. Just relax. You know all you need to," Hermione said tearfully.
"Good luck, mate," Ron seriously offered.
Harry managed a quick smile at all of them in return and made his way over to the side chamber. He was the last champion there. The room was filled with people. He spotted Cedric with two adults, a man and woman. They were talking excitedly and the seventh year Hufflepuff was flushed and happy. Viktor was also talking to an older man and woman. He was speaking in rapid Bulgarian, and the two stared at the Seeker rapt. On the other side of the room, Fleur was jabbering away in French to a woman. Fleur's little sister was holding her hand. The little girl waved when she spotted Harry, and the woman smiled warmly, gesturing him over.
Harry looked around swiftly for a means to escape and grinned when he spotted Remus and a shaggy black dog in the farthest, most shadowed corner. "What are you doing here?" Harry asked in a whisper, kneeling to pet the enthusiastic mutt. He had to admit Sirius looked much better now that Remus had been around to take care of him. His fur was thicker and softer, and there was something more peaceful in his eyes. Remus, on the other hand, looked a bit worse for wear. He was thinner, his clothes were worn and wrinkled, and his face was lined with tension.
"Dumbledore allowed me to come, and this monster insisted on tagging along," Remus smiled. He pulled Harry up and hugged him. "How are you doing?"
"Fine," Harry answered as he eased out of the embrace. "Did you hear about Neville? He's dating Ginny now."
"Really?" Remus' eyes sparkled. "That's wonderful news."
"Yeah. It took some getting use to, but now she's part of the group, so to speak." Harry shrugged and looked down as Padfoot nibbled on his fingers. "I'm not edible," he grimaced and pulled his hand away.
"Do you have any plans for the maze?" Remus asked anxiously.
"Shot first, ask questions later?" Harry said cheekily.
Padfoot huffed and wagged his tail, while Remus smiled indulgently. "Well, if you get into any trouble…"
"Yes, I know," Harry assured him. "I've already gotten the speech from Severus."
"Good," Remus smiled, but his eyes drifted to something behind Harry and the teen turned to see Cedric approaching.
"Harry, this is my father, Amos Diggory," he introduced, a faint blush of embarrassment on his cheeks.
"There you are, are you?" Amos said with a stiff tone. He looked Harry up and down carefully, reminding Harry of the night at the World Cup, when the ridiculous man vigorously questioned Winky and made wild accusations. "Bet you're not feeling quite as full of yourself now Cedric's caught you up on points, are you?"
Padfoot growled, his rough black fur bristling around his neck. Remus placed a hand on the large dog's head and smiled. "Hello, Amos. I bet you are as proud of your son as I am proud of Harry."
"Yes," Amos said and puffed out his chest. "I am very proud of my boy!"
"Come on, Dad," Cedric said a bit desperately. "I want you to meet the others."
"Very well," Amos frowned down at Harry. "But I think it was ill done of you, Harry, to allow Skeeter to make you out to be the only Hogwarts champion. Ill done, indeed."
"Rita Skeeter goes out of her way to cause trouble, Amos!" Remus finally snapped, eyes flashing. "I would have thought you'd know that, working at the Ministry!"
The man looked about to say something unfortunate, but Mrs. Diggory came up and put a small hand on her husband's arm. Cedric smiled at her thankfully and she winked. Amos blustered a bit, not saying anything more, and allowed himself to be led away. Harry turned to look at Remus and they shared a grin. Sirius was too busy growling to notice.
"Let's go to the kitchens," the older wizard suggested. "We have a couple hours until the tournament starts, and no one will find us there."
Sirius barked happily, obviously agreeing with this plan. Harry sighed and gestured for them to lead the way. He had wanted to go to the library, but he suspected that no matter what he did, he wouldn't get any peace. The kitchens were as good a place as any to hide out in.
xXxXxXx
Harry immediately noticed Minister Fudge was in Crouch's place at the judges' table when he entered the Great Hall for dinner, and he frowned when Dumbledore gestured him over. Apparently dinner was to be a feast and the champions sat alone at a table in front of the room, while their families were at a long table off to the side of the four House tables.
Harry felt a bit like a zoo specimen. All of Hogwarts and the foreign students were staring at them, rating their expressions and weighing how much they were eating. Harry sat stiffly, staring straight ahead and talked to no one. In fact, only Cedric and Fleur were talking at their table. Finally, when the ceiling faded from blue to a dusky purple, Dumbledore stood and raised his hands.
"Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now?"
Everyone burst into loud cheering as the four teenagers followed the portly official out of the Great Hall. Bagman looked jovial, but there was a tightness to his eyes that had Harry frowning at him as the man blustered and jabbered at them. Harry wasn't left to think about it long, however. His attention was immediately grabbed by the Pitch once it came into view.
The hedges had grown at least twenty feet and looked like a huge green wall looming above them. Strange sounds emanated from the maze, screeches and snapping sounds. Bagman had them stand at the only gap in the hedge. He stared at them, grinning, while the champions waited in awkward silence. After a few minutes, Dumbledore led the school and the rest of the spectators into the stands that were presiding over both sides of the maze.
"Well, good luck all of you!" Bagman said as he left them to join the other judges.
The five judges - Karkaroff, Maxime, Fudge, Bagman, and Dumbledore - took their place on a raised platform, along with Hogwarts' teachers. Slowly, the stage lifted high into the air so that those on it would have a view of the happenings inside the maze. Harry was thinking about using them as an orientation point, when he noticed a strange mist covered the top of the maze. It would probably keep those inside from seeing anything outside of it, but what really made Harry anxious was that the mist would also blur the spectators' view. If he were to need help, he couldn't count on anyone noticing.
The stands were almost full now. The excited voices and stamping feet of many children and teens filled the field with a dull rumble. The first stars were starting to come out, and bright torches burst into flame in a large circle around the maze. Harry doubted any of their light would seep through the mist. Looking into the maze revealed a dark and creepy alley.
Four Hogwarts teachers approached the champions: Flitwick, Moody, Hagrid, and McGonagall. The Transfiguration teacher stepped forward and bowed to the four champions. "We are going to be patrolling the outside of the maze," she explained. "If you get into difficulty and wish to be rescued, send red sparks into the air. One of us will come and get you. Understand?"
Harry felt himself relaxing a bit at this, and the four champions nodded. McGonagall waved her wand at the judges, signaling they were ready.
Bagman waved his wand back, and the four teachers separated to take their posts surrounding the maze. "Ladies and gentlemen," he boomed, obviously under Sonorous, "the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, with eighty-five points - Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School! In second place, with eighty points - Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute! And in third place, with sixty-three points - Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!"
The wild cheers and applause coming from the stands sent birds from the Forbidden forest fluttering into the darkening sky. Harry looked around at the other champions. All of them, even Viktor, looked a bit ill. Harry grit his teeth. Whoever thought of starting this damn tournament up again should be shot, he thought darkly to himself.
"On the count of three, Cedric and Harry will enter the maze. Five minutes later, Viktor will follow. Five minutes after that, Fleur will enter. Good luck, Champions!" Bagman lifted his wand high into the air, the point glowing a bright blue. "One…" the wand came swinging down and went back up. "Two…" down and up. "Three!" he shouted, slashing down violently, and the crowd screamed excitedly as both Harry and Cedric entered the maze.
As soon as Harry crossed the threshold, the sound of the crowd and the light from the torches were muted. He shivered, thinking it was like being underwater, and the thought of drowning made him go cold all over. Cedric shot him a worried look before heading down the dark alley. Harry followed slowly. Nothing moved; they couldn't hear anything nearby. Of course, that wasn't exactly encouraging since they knew something was in here with them.
"You should go right; I'll go left," Cedric said as they reached a fork in the path. Just then Bagman blew his whistle again. Viktor had entered the maze.
"We should stick together," Harry argued, his green eyes staring seriously up at the Hufflepuff.
"Look," Cedric frowned. "I want to try and win this. Go your own way."
"Fine," he sneered with contempt. "Whatever you think is best."
Cedric shook his head and began jogging down the left path, leaving Harry behind.
Sighing, Harry continued on. He knew there was no point in waiting for Viktor to catch up to him. The Bulgarian was even more determined to win than Cedric was. But he didn't jog; he walked carefully. There was no way he was going to run into a spell-trap or creature without being prepared. Briefly he considered sending up red sparks and just getting out of this, but he wasn't quite ready to quit. Something was going on and he needed to find out as much as he could, and it wasn't like he was in danger yet.
Bagman's third whistle was so quiet, Harry almost missed it. He lifted his wand higher; the Lumos revealing a few more inches of the path. Still there was nothing. Every second that passed drew Harry tighter and tighter. He came to three more intersections. At each one he paused, but could see nothing different down any of the paths. So he cast the Four Corners spell that revealed the cardinal direction of the caster's choice. He knew that from where they started, the Cup was to the northwest, and he chose the paths that looked like they would take him in that direction.
"Tempus," he whispered.
9:00, the gold numbers told him. Harry bit his lip pensively. He'd been in the maze for half-an-hour now. He'd run into no creatures, not even a dead end. There was no sign of the other champions, either. He was seriously considering calling out to see if he'd get an answer, but was afraid that would draw some of the creatures toward him.
"Ten more minutes," he muttered, eyes piercing the darkness ahead of him. "Then I'm out of here."
Of course, that was when he heard something. Cursing to himself silently - he knew he should have stayed silent! - Harry spun around and crouched, his wand steady. He ended the Lumos, not wanting to let anything see him. The rustling sounds got louder and now he could hear panting and running footsteps. Light was spilling out of the alley he had just come from.
Harry was pretty sure it was a champion, but there were tons of creatures that could mimic an ally, as well as tons of illusion spells to seduce you into believing you were safe as you walked toward your death. Therefore, Harry was still very suspicious when Cedric ran into Harry's path, his wand lighting his way.
"Run!" Cedric cried. His brown eyes were wild and his face was pale. He didn't even slow as he quickly closed the distance between them. "Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts! They're huge!" the teen gasped and ran past.
Harry stared after him before shrugging and following. But Cedric wasn't playing around, and Harry lost him to the maze as the older teen ran in mindless panic. Alone again, Harry scowled. This was getting ridiculous. He turned a corner and his light fell on a cloaked figure, gliding toward him. Cold swept over Harry and he staggered backward with a gasp of surprise. Half-a-second later his instincts kicked in and he bellowed "Expecto Patronum!" at the top of his lungs.
The silver stag erupted from his wand and galloped toward the dementor with its head lowered, ready to impale the creature on its sharp horns. The cloaked figure stumbled backward and fell on its butt. The stag came to a halt and looked so befuddled that Harry laughed. His eyes narrowed, however, when his laugh made the creature shimmer.
"Riddikulus!" Harry sneered.
There was a loud crack, and the boggart exploded in a wisp of smoke. The silver stag snorted and tossed its head before fading from sight. Harry smiled and continued on. Really… a boggart and Blast-Ended Skrewts? He began to think this task wasn't really that difficult. It was more a test of nerves than skill. All the creatures would probably be easy to beat, but only if the wizard or witch wasn't panicking. Feeling more confident but still advancing carefully, Harry continued on, moving northwest as best as he could.
Left… right… left again… Twice he found himself facing dead ends and would have to back track. It was not going on nine thirty. He turned a corner and found himself facing a sheet of golden light. Harry frowned, worrying at his lip. It was a spell of some kind… A ward… The name was on the tip of his tongue…
Sighing, he turned to find a way around it when he remembered: the Reversal Ward. It could be triggered to turn the person around, have them walk back the way they had come while they thought they were moving forward. Or it could be triggered to make the perception of up and down switch, usually freezing the victim in place with fear of falling until they were caught. Harry stepped through the golden spell confidently. He didn't know the counter spell to this particular ward, but he knew how to break it once inside of it.
And then everything flipped upside down, and Harry realized that theory and experience were worlds apart.
He was hanging from the ground, his hair falling toward the sky that spread out below him like a gigantic black hole. Even his glasses were slipping off his face and Harry caught them at the last moment with his free hand. His heart raced in his chest and he couldn't catch his breath. He shook with fear and would have closed his eyes, but couldn't. He couldn't look away from the yawning chasm of emptiness.
Vertigo hit him hard and he screamed hoarsely, certain he was falling. He dropped to his knees, covered in sweat, his hands digging desperately into the grass and earth that he hung from. His wand! His glasses! He had dropped them! Harry gasped, sobs rising in his throat as he forced his eyes back open. He couldn't see them; they must have fallen into the nothingness. He'd never see them again! How was he going to send off red sparks now? The stars were blurry now, making them appear to be moving, and Harry thought he would be sick.
And then the most amazing thing happened. Out of nowhere and without even thinking about it, Harry began breathing as Severus taught him to do whenever he was distressed. Slowly, in and out, through mouth and then nose; all of his awareness slowly was drawn inward. His fear left his trembling arms and legs, the sweat cooled on his face.
"All I have to do, to break the ward, is move. Take one single step," Harry told himself calmly. "One step and I'm free."
It sounded simple, but just thinking about it made the terror come rushing back. Harry forced himself to calm, concentrating on his breathing. He hung there for what felt like hours before he stood. Then he had to fight the panic attack that followed. He was shaking again and crying softly, but he managed to pull his foot away from the sheltering earth with a desperate little cry and take a single step.
Immediately the world righted itself, and Harry collapsed to his hands and knees, shaking and crying in relief. He looked around and found his wand and glasses lying innocently next to him. He snatched them both up. Panting, he turned to stare at the curtain of gold now behind him. He shivered convulsively and hurried away from it. He took the first side path he could and just huddled there for a few minutes.
When he was steady again, he lifted his wand to shoot out red sparks. It was pointless to stay. There was no way he could help the other champions when they weren't around for him to help. And he wasn't learning anything new either. He really didn't care about the stupid Cup, so he wad done!
A scream ripped through the air. Harry jumped to his feet and was running silently, but quickly toward the sound. His eyes sought out traps, his ears were wide open to catch hint of what was happening. All he knew was something that sounded like Fleur had screamed in pain. He came to an intersection and stopped, carefully looking around the corner before committing.
There at the end, Fleur lay unconscious, her wand several feet from her limp hand. A humongous Blast-Ended Skrewt stood over her and Harry could only stare dumbly. Cedric hadn't been exaggerating; the thing was enormous! Ten feet long, it looked more like a giant scorpion than anything. Its long sting was curled over its back. Its thick armor glinted in the light from Harry's wand. But no matter how huge, Harry had raised this species and knew it's weakness.
He ran forward, ducking under the jet of fire the screeching creature shot at him. He dove, rolled under it, and pointed his wand at the vulnerable belly. "Stupefy!" he bellowed.
The skrewt didn't even have time to make a sound. It just went limp.
Harry was just barely able to roll out from under it before it collapsed. "Fleur?" he called, pulling himself to his feet.
He went to the girl's side and shook her shoulder, cataloging the injuries he could see. Her right hand and arm were burnt really bad, her wand was chard. Her face was smeared with dirt and her braided hair had come undone. He shook her again and she moaned, opening eyes glassy with pain.
"Arry?" she gasped.
"Yeah," he nodded.
"Ou ar' filt-y," she muttered, eyes closing again.
"You don't look much better," he grinned and shot red spark high into the air. "Someone will come for you now."
She nodded, obviously unable to speak any longer. Harry squeezed her shoulder once before hurrying swiftly down the path and into another. He didn't want to be caught. Not just yet. Obviously, the judges couldn't see what was going on. He knew for certain that Fleur would have died if he hadn't been there. Dead, as in never returning, as in forever leaving behind a grieving mother and little sister. Harry hated this tournament with everything he had, and he wouldn't let it win. He wouldn't let it kill any of them.
Fifteen minutes later, Harry came to the sphinx. It was beautiful. A woman's head and face over a lion's body with great golden wings rising from her back. He stared up at her and gave a little smile. She blinked at him, her lips curling up at the corners.
"You are very near your goal. The quickest way is past me," she said in a deep, hoarse voice. "Answer my riddle correctly - I let you pass. Answer wrongly - I attack. Remain silent - I will let you walk away from me unscathed."
"Alright," Harry agreed.
The sphinx gave her three clues, ending with the creature was something he wouldn't want to kiss. Harry closed his eyes, thinking. The first clue could be many things: a spy, an agent. But the middle of middle… An 'i'? End of the end… A 'd'? A sound you make when thinking… 'ummm'? Or 'errr'? So what did he have… idum? ider? Spy or agent…
"Spider," Harry said confidently.
The sphinx smiled brightly, got up, and paced gracefully to the side. Harry bowed deeply before taking the path behind her. He went slowly, conserving his strength. He had been in this godforsaken maze for almost two hours now and he was beginning to get tired. It wasn't long, however, before he heard something that made him stop dead, eyes wide.
"What are you doing?" Cedric yelled. His voice was right next to Harry in the path one over. "What the hell d'you think you're doing?"
And then Viktor's voice shouted, "Crucio!"
The air was suddenly full of Cedric's screams. Harry raised his wand and yelled, "Reducto!" The hedge blew apart, but began healing the hole almost as quickly. Harry dove through, the branches scraping along his arms and cheeks. He rolled, coming up and pointing his wand at the Seeker's back. Viktor was standing over the Hufflepuff and hadn't even turned at the sound of Harry's curse.
"Stupefy!" Harry shouted and the Seeker fell unconscious.
Cedric gasped, arching off the ground. Tears made muddy tracks on his face and he sat up, trembling. Harry crouched at his side, trying to gage the damage. The teen looked a bit worse for ware, but he was conscious and angry. That had to mean he'd be alright. Harry turned his attention to Viktor.
How could he do this? Harry knew the Seeker needed to win for his own personal reasons, but why the Cruciatus Curse? If he were caught, he'd go to Azkaban. And that curse wouldn't stop Cedric and it was a waste of time. Why not just Stupefy the Hufflepuff and move on. Something wasn't right here.
But just as he was moving to wake the Bulgarian, Cedric cast red sparks into the sky. Harry looked up at him, eyes narrowed. Cedric didn't notice. He was glaring heatedly down at Viktor, his arms and hands still shaking pretty badly.
"Someone will come and collect him now," he said hoarsely. "If we left him like that, he'd end up dead. He deserves it, but…" Cedric shook his head and turned to Harry, offering the younger teen his hand. "Come on. The Cup should be close by. Let's get this over with."
"Something's not right. Viktor wouldn't…" Harry argued.
"I thought he was alright too, Harry," Cedric snapped, but when Harry still didn't move, he shrugged. "Fine. You stay and go with Krum. I'm going to find that damn Cup."
Harry was torn. He wanted to find out what was wrong with Krum, but Cedric was shaky and weak. He shouldn't go off on his own. Cursing under his breath, Harry got up and ran after the Hufflepuff. Cedric shot him a strained smile, but Harry only glared back. One thing was true, he was just as anxious to have all this over with as Cedric was.
They hurried through two more paths before turning the last corner. There at the end stood an alter with the glowing Triwizard Cup sitting proudly on top of it. The soft blue-white light lit up the small clearing and the two Hogwarts champions shared an awed glance before racing down to safety.
"Go on. Take it and lets get out of here," Harry said and gestured at the damn thing.
But Cedric hesitated. "You saved me, Harry. You should take it."
"No," he answered flatly. "I don't want it. Take it and lets go."
"But…"
"Now, Cedric!" Harry yelled.
The Hufflepuff flinched back. His brown eyes wide through his dirty blonde bangs. He was dirty and sweaty, his jersey was torn in several places. Harry didn't look much better. He had scratches on his cheeks and forearms, dirt smudged across one cheek and his forehead. He was tired and hungry. They both just wanted this over with. So Cedric stepped forward and lifted the Cup.
"Now what?" Harry crossed his arms, huffing in frustration when nothing happened. "Maybe we should send off sparks?" He was looking down the path, so he didn't see Cedric's expression go slack or see the teen reach for him. But he turned, scowling unhappily, when Cedric put a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Wha---?"
His question was cut off by Cedric blankly saying, "Portus."
Harry opened his mouth to scream, his heart slamming against his rips as he tensed to fling himself away from the other champion. But it was too late. Cursing himself furiously, Harry was sucked toward the damn Cup and the world went spinning away. When they landed, Harry lashed out, sending Cedric flying several feet back. He stood, panting, his eyes wide as he looked around frantically. It was dark, but there was no mistaking the headstones rising out of the ground around them. They were in a graveyard.
"What happened?" Cedric asked, voice bewildered. "Where are we?"
Someone was coming. Harry dove behind a headstone and hunkered down, his wand clutched tightly in his sweaty hand. He had a feeling, a horrible feeling, that he knew who was coming. He looked down at his hand and saw his ring, the one that would take him to safety. Cedric was too far away to grab him, but Harry couldn't stay. Voldemort was almost here, and no matter what, Harry couldn't allow that monster to get his hands on him. So he smeared the ring with the blood from one of his cuts and was about to whisper the trigger spell when his scar erupted with pain so great, he couldn't think in words, let alone say them.
Harry fell, and he was lost.
Chapter end…. To be Continued…
