Once again, Hermione thought with a combination of amusement and frustration, if it hadn't been for Callen's team, none of the spectators attending the third task would've been able to see what was going on during the task.
The Quidditch pitch had been covered with a giant maze, the walls of which were twenty feet high - high enough to effectively obscure whatever might happen once the competitors entered it. Even those spectators sitting in what Harry had once called the "nosebleed seats" wouldn't be able to see more than a small fraction of the maze, let alone the action inside it.
But then, even the cameras wouldn't help much considering night was falling as the spectators gathered.
Hermione mused on the idiocy of wizardkind in general and British wizardkind in particular until she had to shift position to allow Sirius and Alexandra to take their seats on her other side.
She glanced over her shoulder to greet the rest of Harry's family and friends, only to frown when she saw only Michelle and the Hanna children and Callen.
"Where is everyone? I thought they'd want to watch?" she asked.
"They'll see it on the screen," Callen answered and bent forward to speak directly in her ear. "They're getting ready, just in case."
"Oh." And just like that, Hermione's irritation with wizardkind idiots became anger at those same idiots for the situation Harry found himself in and fear for what could happen to Harry because of it.
Callen rested a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. "We've planned for as many contingencies as we can. I won't promise everything will be fine, but I do promise we've done everything we can to stack the deck in our favor."
"That's all anyone can do," Hermione said. "And more than most would think to do."
"With any luck at all," Callen continued, "all of this will be unnecessary. Harry will get through the maze along with the other competitors, and we'll all have a victory celebration at the end."
"Your lips to God's ears," Hermione said, repeating a phrase she'd often heard her parents use.
Callen squeezed her shoulder again and sat back. Hermione heard him talking with Michelle in low tones and chose not to try to listen in. She was worried enough already, without whatever they were talking about added to the mix.
They could just be talking about mundane things, you know.
Hermione frowned inwardly at the thought which only served to make her angrier. If Callen and Michelle were talking about silly things, rather than Harry's safety…
Resolutely, she pushed those thoughts away and focused on the screen, which now showed the four competitors approaching the entrance to the maze.
She paid no attention to Ludo Bagman's Amplified voice explaining the current standings and the general outline of the task. Instead, she studied Harry.
On the screen, he stood easily in the same combat fatigues he'd worn for the first task, his expression relaxed and calm - certainly as confident as his fellow competitors - and she smiled encouragingly, though there was no way he could see it from here.
As he was in the lead, Harry entered the maze first. The camera followed him - not far, as he paused just inside the maze entrance to cast several spells. Hermione didn't recognize some of the wand movements, but one looked like a revealing spell of some kind. His spells cast, Harry took off at a dead run.
That run lasted only until the second turn in the maze. Then Harry stopped and, by the position of his hand and the wand on it, cast a Point-Me spell. Then he turned just slightly left of the direction indicated and cast a spell. After a moment, a gap appeared in the hedge. Harry stuck his head through it, looked both ways, and then stepped through the hedge into the next layer of the maze.
Harry cast the spell again, but this time when he looked through the hedge he backed away quickly. The camera shot through the gap and Hermione blanched at the blast-ended skrewt she saw apparently lying in wait for Harry.
But Harry wasn't completely defenseless, either. He dove through the opening, rolled to his feet, and cast, all in one smooth motion.
When the camera turned once again to the skrewt, Hermione almost laughed aloud. Harry had turned it into a rabbit, and it hopped around madly, clearly confused by this change in its condition.
Then Harry was on to the next layer of the hedge.
Alexandra leaned toward Hermione. "What spell is that?"
"Which?" Hermione countered without taking her eyes from the screen. "The one he's using on the maze, or the one he used on the skrewt?"
"On the maze," the older woman replied. "It seems quite useful."
"The gap is only temporary," Hermione said. "It'll close up in a few minutes. The incantation is partis temporus."
"Temporary or not - still quite useful for escaping somewhere."
"Mm." Hermione still hadn't looked away from the screen, where Harry had made an opening through the next layer of the maze - only to come face-to-face with a sphinx.
Not for the first time, Hermione wished the camera had sound as well. As it was, she could only imagine the conversation Harry and the sphinx were having. Part of it became clear when he turned back through the hole in the hedge and summoned the skrewt-turned-rabbit. He dropped it in front of the sphinx and Hermione had to look away as vicious claws tore into the poor rabbit.
Not really a rabbit - a skrewt that could've challenged the sphinx.
But it's a rabbit now, and that's … disgusting.
But Harry was already cutting through the next layer of the maze, and then the next, and then he emerged into an open space that could only be the center of the maze. The camera shifted its angle, and suddenly the Triwizard Cup filled the screen.
The camera shifted back as Harry approached the cup. An acromantula appeared from the far side of the clearing, and Harry repeated the spell to change it into a rabbit.
Harry paused at the cup, and it seemed like everyone in the stadium held their collective breath, waiting for him to grasp the cup and claim the victory he'd earned.
"Partis temporus." The incantation came out correctly, despite Harry's lingering amusement at his conversation with the sphinx - or Nebit, as she'd asked him to call her.
After explaining that he didn't want to get past her as much as he did go across the path in front of her, Nebit had allowed that meant he didn't have to answer her question and wouldn't get eaten. It wasn't entirely the same as turning away, but her instructions had only been not to allow anyone past her if they didn't answer her question correctly.
"Shame, though," Nebit concluded. "I'm getting hungry."
"If I had food, I'd give - wait. I can get a rabbit," Harry offered.
Nebit sniffed. "I suppose it'll tide me over until the next one shows up."
So Harry had summoned the skrewt-turned-rabbit and continued on his way. Now he approached the Triwizard Cup and while he supposed he should be thinking thoughts of winning and prize money, he found himself dreading touching the cup.
If anything bad's going to happen, it's going to happen now.
Which meant it was time for Plan A - or, rather, Strategy A, since there was no guarantee what would happen once he touched the cup. In theory, it was a portkey to take the winner to the judges' platform, but in reality, it could be anything.
So he breathed in and out, a long, slow breath, and then pointed his wand toward the camera, silently casting first a disillusionment spell and then the summoning charm. Camera tucked safely under his wand arm, Harry reached out and grasped the cup with his other hand.
The tug at his navel confirmed it was portkey - but to where?
Hermione watched Harry vanish from the center of the maze. The view on the screen shifted to the judges' platform, where Harry should arrive in just seconds.
He didn't.
Ten seconds passed - twenty - thirty, and Harry still didn't appear.
Fear twisted in her gut, and behind her she heard Callen's muttered, "Dammit."
Then she heard him giving orders. "Sam, he's gone. Get the team ready, I'll be with you in thirty seconds. Sirius -"
"I know," Sirius said. "Protect Alexandra."
Protect Alexandra? But why? Hermione shoved the question down for now, instead jumping to her feet and whirling to face Callen. "I want to help."
"I know," he replied, "but you can't. The team's trained for this, worked together for years. You'd be in the way at best."
Hermione's eyes stung with tears, even as the rational part of her accepted that Callen was right. His eyes softened.
"Help Sirius protect Alexandra," Callen said.
Hermione nodded. "Bring him back."
"We will." Callen couldn't quite manage a reassuring smile, but Hermione took his words as a vow. Then, between one heartbeat and the next, Callen vanished.
"But -" Hermione stared at the spot where he'd stood. "But you can't apparate at Hogwarts."
"You can't apparate within Hogwarts," Sirius corrected. "At least, we can't. Callen probably can. Romani," he added by way of explanation.
Hermione nodded absently. Another question had settled in her mind. "Why are we protecting Alexandra?"
"Because she can't protect herself," came Sirius' eminently reasonable answer.
"Whyever not?" Hermione asked, turning to Alexandra when Sirius didn't reply immediately.
Alexandra leaned close, lowering her voice to say, "Because I'm not a witch."
G appeared beside his team, including Hetty and Griphook, giving them a thorough once-over even as Sam handed him a tac vest. As magicals themselves, he and Sam would take the lead, with Deeks and Kensi, both non-magical, providing tactical support.
Nell and Eric, of course, would coordinate as they always did - not just with G's team this time, but also the goblins who were joining them for this raid.
"Sit rep?" G said as he slipped the tac vest over his head.
"The camera drone is operating normally," Nell said. "We have eyes on Harry."
Kensi adjusted her M24 sniper rifle on her shoulder. "Sam made me a portkey to the roof of the cemetery chapel. I can cover most of the cemetery from there."
G cast a silencing spell on her feet and the rifle, and then a disillusionment spell. "Go."
He heard Kensi murmur, "Whitehead Unitas," and then, presumably, the portkey had taken her.
"Seriously?" G took the moment to look at Sam. "A mathematician and a quarterback?"
Sam shrugged as he readied both his wand and his SIG Sauer pistol. "Nobody ever says those names together by accident."
G grinned, just a little, and turned to the one member of the group he didn't directly command. "Griphook?"
The goblin grinned. "My team is ready, waiting only for my word. We will follow your lead."
"My thanks," G said. Before he could say anything else, Kensi's voice came through his earwig.
"Eyes on Harry," she said. "One man with him, one giant snake slithering around, and one … thing."
"What? Thing?" Deeks asked. "What does thing mean?"
G was already looking over Nell's shoulder at the tablet she held. She manipulated the drone until the image showed what Kensi had seen.
Harry appeared to be tied to a gravestone, and the man with him was moving a cauldron onto a fire. Off to the side was a small pile of cloth that looked about the size of a baby.
"Is that - a baby?" Deeks asked.
"Don't know," Sam said. "How do you want to play this, G?"
"As long as he's not going to sacrifice Harry, let it play out," G ordered. "If he tries to hurt Harry -"
"Right." Kensi acknowledged grimly.
"Sam?" G asked.
"Portkey ready."
"Good. Eric, have you narrowed down the ritual?"
"Resurrection ritual," Eric said promptly, then winced. "But you knew that. It looks like the bone, blood, and flesh ritual, and that pile of cloth is whatever body is currently housing Voldemort's soul."
G hid his distaste at the description of one of the vilest spells known. "All right. Silencing charms on everyone's weapons and feet."
Griphook sniffed. "Every human's feet, you mean."
"My apologies," G said automatically. Then, when the charms had been cast. "Let's go."
Sam held out a tactical flashlight large enough to serve as a club if necessary - and therefore large enough for G, Sam, Deeks, and Griphook to get a hand on it.
Eric, Nell, and Hetty took a step back. No experience or evidence suggested it was possible to get caught up in a portkey's backwash, for lack of a better term, but nobody on G's team was stupid enough to take the chance.
"Bring our son home, Mr. Callen," Hetty said.
G met her gaze and nodded once.
Sam needed no other urging. "Gauss Blanda," he said, and the portkey took them.