The sounds of the crowd outside receded, and she made her way through tremulously, hand tight around her wand for all the good she knew it could do her in a fight.
She had no idea where Harry was, but she heard the fourth and final blow of the whistle and knew Fleur had just entered. They were all there now, all ready. She didn't know how long she would be in there for. It was mere minutes before she came to a crossroads. Left or right. She glanced either way, closing her eyes for a moment and trying to feel her way on instinct. Turning left, she went on through the maze with her eyes now opened wide and on high alert for anything that might sneak from the shadows to attack her.
But there was nothing, and that unsettled her more than anything. She turned right and left and left again, twisting and turning through the maze, with the heavy weight of nerves and paranoia settled upon her shoulders. She was sure she should have been able to find her way better. How long had she been in here now? She kept an ear out, trying to see if she could find Harry at all, but there was no sign of him.
Nervously, and hoping it wouldn't alert anything else to her whereabouts, Calla pulled out her wand and whispered, "Expecto patronum." She pictured herself clasping the cup, imagined her friends all cheering for her victory, and silver wisped from the tip. It formed only a strange, slightly feathery-looking ball, and faded a little as it flew out of sight. She didn't know if Harry would even recognise it, or see it at all.
The moon was bright in the sky now. She stood pondering at an intersection in the silence, when something burst through the bushes on her right.
She turned around sharply, wand out, as a shadow of something came running towards her, dark against the moonlit bushes. She took a nervous step back, heart hammering, as the thing came into focus. It might have been a bull, but she could see the goldish tint to its smooth skin, and the long, straight horns rather short, curly ones, that stuck out from its head. A Bicorn. A stream of curses ran through her head as she tried to shift its focus away, but the Bicorn was already charging towards her. With a small shriek, she dodged out of the way, running as fast as she could in the other direction from the Bicorn, turning every corner she came to until she found a dead end.
Its hooves were loud behind her, and Calla had only enough time to dodge out of the way before it crashed into the hedge, letting out a roar of fury. She didn't take any chances by lingering, and bolted in the other direction. After five minutes, with a stitch in her side, Calla came to a stop, panting. That was close, but she knew a Bicorn was far from the worst thing she could encounter in the maze. She needed to be quicker, even though she felt exhausted.
She forced her eyes to stay open, wishing she had a water bottle with her, and kept on going, eyes scanning the maze and ears open, ready to hear any movements towards her. It felt like she was going in circles, though she wished she knew where she was meant to be going. She whispered, "Point me," but her wand just turned wildly in her palm and did nothing to help her find her way.
Instead, Calla paused, taking a steadying breath. While it was quiet, she had to give herself some time to think. There was still no sign of Harry, and she was getting worried. But she had to trust that he was okay. She'd do him no service by getting herself killed, or too injured to help if he did get into trouble. She racked her brain, and then something metal caught her eye; a grate with runes engraved around its corners. Each of them was encased in a circle, ready for activation. She recognised kannaz and eihwaz, but the others seemed a mix of different characters she hadn't yet studied. Frowning, she pulled away, listening out for any other movements nearby, and decided to carry on. Maybe if she trusted her Seer instincts, they would lead her in the correct direction.
And then, she realised something. Smiling, she plucked a large leaf from the hedges, and with the tip of her wand carefully drew out a silver kannaz rune, before multiplying the leaf. To her delight, it worked, and she had a bundle in her arms. If she ended up walking in circles, she would know soon enough, and if she got into trouble she'd have a marked point to return to. Carefully, as she went onwards, Calla dropped the leaves onto the ground, the silver kannaz pattern glowing in the moonlight.
She kept on like that for a considerable time, certain she was getting nowhere but confident that she would now have a way of knowing and re-planning. Just as she turned a corner, seeing faint blue light nearby, she could hear a faint scuttling from nearby her, and turned quickly, trying to locate the sound. Something was clicking as it came near, like pincers. Her stomach dropped as she hurried onwards, the sound fading only a little. But even as it did, she couldn't shake the feeling that running was in vain; she was stuck in the shadows and only able to hear her heart, and the rustle of leaves, and the sound of some creature, whatever it was, coming closer. She couldn't avoid it; even with nothing truly near her, she could feel anxiety and paranoia crawling over her back and arms, seizing her. How long had she been in here? An hour a least, she was sure, but it felt like forever.
Something fluttered at the top of one of the hedges. Calla crouched down, bending her knees and she shuffled on forward. "Lumos," she whispered as the ground darkened, and she squinted to find her way. There was something glinting up ahead, something steely. Frowning, she headed towards it, wondering if it were a clue of some sorts. But it was another of those metal grates; different this time. She frowned, and crouched down to get a better look at it. There were different runes carved into it than on the other one, she realised, and lowered her wand so she could see them better in the light. There was one at each of the grate's seven corners; the eihwaz 'ï' rune for yew tree at the top and two bottom points, and at the other four points were the mannaz, nauthiz, laguz and gebō runes - m, n, l and g. The transliteration didn't necessarily mean anything, but she could hear the rush of water all of a sudden, and she knew what those runes all meant: man, need, water and gift. Perhaps... She was parched, after all.
She touched the grate nervously, hoping it might help, but a moment later that scuttling sound reappeared, louder than before. Calla turned around, startled, as three giant acromantulae crept out of the shadows towards her. She swore loudly, leaping to her feet. What was the spell to get rid of spiders? It felt like it was just at the edge of her memory, as she leapt nervously from foot to foot, panic rising in her throat and crowding her chest. She wracked her brain, the spiders coming ever closer, until she remembered. "Arania exumai!"
Nothing happened.
Not the time, she thought bitterly, and raised her wand again at the spiders. "Arania exumai!" Again, there was nothing but a faint wisp of blue light. "For God's sake," she muttered, tapping the tip of her wand irritatedly against her leg. The acromantulae came closer; the leader's scarlet eyes glinted like pools of blood in the moonlight. "Arania exumai!" A small jet of blue light shot out and hit the spider on the left; it went flying back into the air, its many legs flailing.
For a second, she grinned in victory, and was about to turn on the other two only to find that they were running at her now, even faster. She swore loudly, turning around and in her panic went sprawling to the ground. The bundle leaves flew from her hand, falling softly around her. "Impedimenta!" she yelled, aiming helplessly at the acromantulae, but it didn't do anything. She scrambled away, but something had just grabbed her by the ankle.
Yelling, she floundered for control of her wand, and panicked as she was half-dragged into the hedge. One of the spiders grabbed her and she screamed, eyes catching on the seven pointed grate, and in a fit of panic and desperation, she pushed away from the spider's grasp, gripped her wand and traced a messy, shaky circle around the laguz rune.
A jet of water rushed from the space between the metal links, rising in the air, blasting her wand from her hand, and then rushing back down towards the Acromantulae. Calla shrieked, but the Acromantulae were stunned enough to let go of her and she scrambled to her feet. Her wand was rushing down in the river that had suddenly sprung up, and she waded tiredly through the deep water, lunging for it. The weight of her robes in the water dragged her down, but she fumbled and gripped her wand as tightly as she could, letting the current push her along until the water slowed to a stream and then a dribble and, soaking wet, she staggered to her feet, panting.
Where was she now? She had no idea, but the hedges seemed higher and thicker, and she was also sopping wet, and getting colder. Shivering a bit, she tried to cast a drying spell on herself, but it didn't work very well; she wasn't soaking anymore, but she was still very much damp, and surely her hair would be a wreck. She was just glad it was still in its plait.
"Right," she muttered to herself. "Come on."
She kept on going, treading along the path between the hedges. She wondered if she'd ever come across any of the others; where was Harry? She wished he was here with her now. Feeling very heavy, she trudged on, thinking and wondering. Was someone close to the cup by now? Was it on the verge of being won, of all of this being over? Her head spun with images as she went further into the maze, going around and around in hopeless circles. A cauldron, bubbling and boiling, herself limp and cold, her brother screaming. Her stomach twisted; she had to stop torturing herself with this, she knew, but she didn't know what else she could do.
It might happen years from now, or it might happen in days. Would it happen tonight? Her gut twisted in fear and she quickened her pace, and shrilly called out, "Harry?"
She hadn't expected a reply, and she didn't get one either. Where was he? Where were any of the other champions? Her heart hammered in her chest as she turned left, mind racing, the image of the Triwizard Cup burning in her mind.
Something collided abruptly with her and she went sprawling to the ground, holding back a shriek. With one hand tight around her wand, she stared up, panting. "Fleur," she said, getting to her feet. "Jesus, you frightened the life out of me. You alright?" Her head was throbbing, but Fleur was staring at something over her shoulder, wand raised at the ready. Her stomach swooped in terror as she twisted; there was something in the bushes.
She hurried backwards, heart hammering. Was it - no, it couldn't be... Couldn't be Voldemort. No. She was paranoid, she knew that. There were many things in the maze, after all. "There is something there," Fleur whispered.
"Yeah."
She made to say more but no words would come; she trailed off, moving back so she was just in front of Fleur. Fleur put an arm out, just in front of Calla, shifting forward. She seemed to be shaking; Calla was, too. "There were Acromantulae earlier," she whispered. "I got rid of them... but I don't know what else might be in here."
"I do not like-"
Fleur was cut off sharply by a beam of red light flying straight towards her. She screamed just before it hit her, as she and Calla both lunged to the side, crashing into one of the hedges. "Who was that?" Calla whispered.
"I do not know!" Fleur snapped, scraping a twig out of her hair. "One of the boys!"
Calla murmured, "Protego," and a faint, shimmering wall of blue went up before her and Fleur, just in case their attacker struck again.
There was a sound like twigs snapping as another jet of light shot towards them; it fizzled out at Calla's shield and before their attacker could try again, she grabbed Fleur and ran as fast as she could, twisting through the hedges until they couldn't hear anyone and it was silent.
"Well," Fleur panted, her hair having come undone and her face white. She sank to the ground. "I think we have lost him."
Calla nodded numbly. "Who was that?"
"Who?" Fleur asked. "I do not know. It would not be Cedric."
"It wouldn't be Harry, either," Calla said, panting. Her mind span. "But surely Krum..."
"I do not know," Fleur said again, and she got elegantly to her feet. She held out a hand to Calla, pulling her up, too. "Be careful."
"Should..." Calla faltered nervously. She hated being in here on her own, the shadows and the hedges pressing down on her. "Should we stick together? Just for a bit?"
Fleur hesitated a moment. She sounded like she was listening out; a twig snapped somewhere nearby, beyond the next hedges. "Yes," she said, pointing her wand at the ground. "Just for... a short while."
They went on together, both of them with their wands out. They were pressed almost shoulder to shoulder, and Calla was all too aware of the proximity. It set her on edge, but not in a scared way.
"We'll go this direction," Fleur told Calla, veering to the left. The other path between the hedges was dark and almost misty; Calla nodded in agreement and followed Fleur, grateful for the company. "Pointe moi," she said, and her wand lit up, a shimmery compass spinning at the tip. "This way is East. Come."
"You look freezing," she said a moment later as they continued in the dark, and pointed her wand at Calla. She flinched in response, but she didn't feel nervous. She almost felt safe with Fleur here. She just smiled gently and conducted a drying charm. Instantly, Calla felt warmer. "There you are." It was only a few minutes before they came to a fork on the road, and glanced at each other nervously.
"I go left, you go right?" Calla suggested, and Fleur nodded.
She reached out a hand gently, and with a moment of nervous hesitation, Calla took it. It was warm, and something settled within her. "Good luck," she told her. "Be careful." Then she turned and disappeared through the dark hedges and Calla was left alone again, only a little bit warmer.
Deciding to try the point-me spell again, Calla saw that she was heading North-West now, which wasn't entirely helpful because she didn't know what direction the Cup was in. But at least she would know what way she was going.
An eye on the spinning compass at the end of her wandtip, Calla kept on going in the same direction. After five minutes, she decided to go the other way, hoping she'd run across a marker of some sort at some point. If only they had a map... If only she had her map, she thought with a scowl.
She heard a shout somewhere nearby, and the hedges lit up a bright red. Someone yelled, and it sounded like Harry. Her heart plummeted into the bottom of her stomach and she broke into a run, going towards the source of the sound. "Bombarda!" she yelled, blasting a hedge apart to run through it, the leaves mildly smoking. There was no one there, but she could hear the sounds of a scuffle up ahead, and went running towards it.
But something pushed her back. She went flying into the air, landing harshly on her knees, which scraped against the ground. Swearing again, she blinked out the hot tears of pain, and staggered to her feet. The sounds of people had died out again; she turned a corner and went the other way, ears ringing. Her stomach was tumbling around like a washing machine. How much longer would she be here? "Harry?" There was no reply. She tried to swallow down the lump of terror in her throat.
The maze seemed to go on forever as she turned and turned and turned again, hands shaking, growing more and more tired. How late was the hour, now? How long had she been awake? She'd barely gotten a few hours of sleep last night, and she was sure that the only reason she'd gotten through the maze so far was because fear-fuelled adrenaline was keeping her awake. At least her body was sort of on her side.
Then she rounded a corner and her heart plummeted into her stomach. Her knees shook and her very blood ran cold, nausea swelling in her throat as her head rang with terror. She met blood-red eyes and the cold smile of a dead memory. Tom Riddle.
Not real, she reminded herself as the figure came towards her and she felt herself numbing. Her wand slipped from her hand. Not real, not here, not now.
And then the cold, unwelcome voice rasped, Mine. This is mine. The figure of Tom Riddle reached out a hand and Calla scrambled back, heart pounding so loudly she could hardly her herself think. Pain seated across her forehead, bright green light, and she found herself panting on the ground. Riddle was standing just above her and though she knew it was a Boggart, her heart wouldn't listen, and she screamed, trying to bring herself back up onto her feet. Not real, not real.
She told herself she had to calm down and still the rush of blood in her ears. "Riddikulus," she said feebly, hand shaking around her wand. It wasn't real, but even when she blinked she could see blood-red eyes and a wicked smile, bright green light and a cold body on the floor. She couldn't think like that. She tried envisioning the Riddle as a clown, but she couldn't stop the terror that gripped her. She was going to die, she was going to die, she was going to die.
"R-Riddikulus," She panted. Riddle only seemed to grow stronger, as she grew weaker. She shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself. "No," she whispered. "You can't give up now. It isn't real."
She forced herself to look and to pretend like she wasn't scared. Anything could be funny if she imagine it strongly enough. A clown. That was funny. She imagined Riddle with a great red nose, and though she felt sure she was going to pass out, she told herself it was only fear. "Riddikulus!"
There was a faint crack and the figure of Tom Riddle distorted only slightly, but it was enough for Calla to regain her composure a little and slow her breathing. "Riddikulus!" she cried again, and this time the Boggart turned into a clown, looking very confused by its massive feet.
She felt like she was going to be sick, but Calla forced herself to run while she could, back through the dark maze. There was a large blast nearby, and Calla leapt away just in time as a hedge was blown apart. She had only a second to register the rear end of a blast-ended skrewt before fire again erupted from it. Yelling, she moved swiftly to the side, feeling flame and heat rush past her cheeks. "Aguamenti!" she cried, aiming at the skrewt, which lifted its head and turned, running, as her feeble stream of water flowed towards it. "Aguamenti!" she shouted again, scrambling back, willing the water to flow from her wand, willing anything to push it back. Her wand vibrated in her hands and she was sure it was going to tear itself apart as a jet of water soared out, sweeping the blast-ended skrewt back and dousing its flames.
She turned and ran again, certain that the world had underestimated the many uses of streams of water.
Calla hurried onward, more terrifying images and thoughts pressing at her mind, but she forced them to stay out. She had to focus and get through this. The image of the Triwizard Cup was the only one she could think of now, apart from the path before her. There was a very faint light golden ahead, and she stared at the ground, a strange sort of snail trail leading the way. She stared around, paranoid, but maybe this was the maze helping in the final stretch? At any rate, she didn't have any other ideas.
So she followed along, followed that faint gold light. There were footsteps running near her, then a shout, but suddenly something stopped her, her knees buckling. She grasped a hedge, thorns digging into the palm of her hand. Something moved on the other side, a silent shadow. Images flirted across her mind. The Triwizard Cup, moving, the world dropping out from underneath her. Her mind raced with starlight as she bent over, every part of her suddenly feeling like it was about to go on fire. What the hell?
Was this the maze, playing mind games, trying to stop her from going on? Making her weak at the final hurdle? She swallowed down the bile that rose in her throat. She wasn't going to be weak, like everybody said she was. She forced herself to keep going, head pounding and heavy, her stomach swimming, and then with a laboured step and a heavy breath, she stepped out into the clearing where the Triwizard Cup stood shining.
She'd made it. She - had she really won? She stared around. It felt too easy. She took a few steps closer, reaching a hand out towards the handle, and stopped. It was too easy. It felt wrong. Even looking at the cup, something felt off, and she didn't know what, but all of a sudden she felt a great urge to run. But she couldn't hear anything else near her. It was just her and this cup.
Her forehead burned. Something was trying to break through to her, and she was terrified of what she would see if she closed her eyes. Her hand hovered by the cup's handle. If she just took it, then she'd win. She'd be the champion. No one would be able to call her weak again. She'd have proven herself even against wizards four years older than her, even against her brother.
And yet. All she felt when she looked at the cup was dread. Her Seer instincts were roaring at her to leave, that something terrible was happening. She wanted to see for herself, but all of a sudden she was too scared to close her eyes. Something rustled in the hedges behind her, heavy footsteps.
Calla turned, seeing a dark and deep shadow of a man. Saw something bright blue. Maybe it was just Moody, she thought. Patrolling the maze. But that didn't comfort her; instead, it made her feel more nervous, and she couldn't even explain to herself why. Nausea swam in her throat and she turned back to the cup. "Just take it," she told herself furiously. "Stop being scared."
She'd made it this far. She had won. She smiled and reached her hand out towards the cup, but then her hand stopped, flattened as though against a barrier. Calla frowned, trying to reach forwards again, but she couldn't. Panic rose in her throat. What was happening? Was she trapped? Was there something else yet to come?
Her brother yelled from behind her. She darted back, already breaking into a run when she seemed to slam into an another invisible wall, being thrown back. She landed just below the plinth where the cup sat, dazed. Her forehead burned again, and her stomach twisted in terror. "Harry!" she screamed, eyes scanning the dark. "Harry!"
Two figures burst out of the hedges near her and she scrambled back, knocking the cup from its plinth. It rolled on the floor, and she almost grabbed it again before she saw her brother, and the state of injury he was in, limping against Cedric's side. "Harry! Cedric!"
"You - you made it?" Harry said, staring at her. "You... You've won."
She stared at the cup. Its glow was eerie now. Her stomach twisted. "Not really," she said. "I mean, you two are tied for first place in the Tournament overall. You've won."
The two boys looked between each other. Calla shuffled away from the cup. Something told her to stay away... The light coming from it was soft but strangely menacing. It was something purely instinctual that told her to turn around and leave. Was it the mind games? This Tournament had certainly messed with her head enough so far. She had just been about to take it. She should have taken it. Should have been able. What - or who - had stopped her, just in time for Harry to arrive?
"Take it," Harry panted. "One of you, take it, you got here."
Cedric was looking at Calla. She glanced at the cup, took a few steps forward, and then stopped. "You would have gotten here. I heard you just now."
"Acromantulae," Harry said.
"Yeah," Cedric panted, turning to Harry. "And you - you saved me. You didn't have to do that, Potter."
"You gave me the hint about the egg," Harry said sheepishly.
"Only because you told me about the dragons first."
Then they both turned to Calla. "You did it yourself," Harry told her. "You... You should take it, Cal."
It was tempting, she couldn't deny that. Her fingers reached out to brush the edges of the golden light, but again she felt something pushing her away. Whether instinct or someone else's magic. A breeze rippled through the maze. She could hear someone breathing nearby. "I don't know," she said, and frowned. "I don't like it. I've barely done anything tonight... It's too easy." And it felt wrong.
"What d'you mean?" Cedric asked impatiently, staring at her.
"You think it's another obstacle?" Harry asked, frowning at her.
"I... I don't know," she said quietly. "I just don't like it."
"Well, it's there," Cedric said. "You're just nervous, but you should still take it."
"No," she said. "No, no, it - it doesn't feel right."
"Well, we can't none of us take it," Harry said. "I mean... It's a Hogwarts victory, whichever of us takes it."
Cedric grinned slowly, as something rustled in the nearby hedges. There were light footsteps growing closer. "Or we could all of us take it."
"No," Calla said sharply. There was a growing pain in her head, like a dull blade pressing in against her skull. The edges of her vision seemed to dull a little and she forced her eyes to remain open. "No, we shouldn't."
"Calla?" Harry asked warily. "Why not?"
"I don't know, Harry!" she snapped. A twig snapped somewhere near them and she shuddered, heart hammering, and she tried to calm herself down. "It just feels... I have a bad feeling about it."
"It's the cup," Cedric said, not seeming to understand at all. Calla wasn't totally sure she understood, either, but she had to trust her feelings. "I don't get it."
"Neither do I."
"Well, if Calla doesn't think..." Harry looked at her critically and when their eyes met, she felt like she was going to pass out. Pain blazed through for forehead - through her scar. "Are you okay?"
"Yes," she said shakily. "But..."
"Krum tried to curse Cedric," Harry told her. "He didn't... He isn't stopping you?"
She took in a breath. "No, but... I think he tried to stun Fleur and I, too."
"Blimey," Cedric said.
"So are we taking the cup or not?" Harry asked.
"We?" Calla asked.
"Well, we're all here, aren't we? A Hogwarts victory, how about that?" He looked at Calla. "You know we can't just stand here all night, don't you? Something's bound to get us. I'd... I know you're nervous, but you might be wrong." Cedric was looking between the twins as if he was greatly confused. "If we take the cup, we'll get out of here. I know you're scared. And if it's just another obstacle, then there's no harm us all moving forward, is there?"
"I'm not scared," she muttered, even though she absolutely was, and she knew the boys could tell. But maybe scared was what she needed to be right now.
"We'll do it together," Cedric said. "Alright?"
"We can't," she said, words tumbling out. "I know it probably sounds mad to you, but I... I had a vision about the cup, and I've had visions about this - this graveyard and... Harry, we can't take it."
Though her brother seemed to consider her words, Cedric looked at her like she'd gone mad. "Vision? You... That's what Rita Skeeter said about you?"
"Look," she said nervously, "I don't know why I feel this, but it feels wrong and it feels dangerous."
"I think it's supposed to be dangerous."
"Not like this." She shouldn't be feeling this horrible sense of dread, shouldn't be feeling like she was going to pass out. It was too much. "This is different."
A twig snapped somewhere behind them and Calla whipped around. Someone moved in the hedges and her nerves set on edge. Someone was there, something was wrong, this was all wrong. Even when the cup started to glow brighter, she could hardly make out the shadow she was sure lurked in the hedges... But there. Moody's bright blue eye, whirring menacingly. Her breath hitched.
A shadow moved. "Calla," Harry said quietly. "What's going on?"
There was a cry from nearby. It sounded like Fleur. She was running. Running towards them.
"I..." Calla's breathing was uneven, and her heart pounded. "Something's wrong. We have to-"
Her words were cut off by a gust of wind that seemed to tear through the hedges. Fleur's scream pierced the air and she came into Calla's line of sight.
The wind caught her ankles. They were thrust backward and she turned in the air, forced across the ground. Cedric yelled, reaching out, but she couldn't make out his words over the din of the wind. Fleur was running, mouth open as she called out in panicked French. Harry's hand found Calla's and she tried to pull them back, as Cedric and Fleur both reached out all realising something was deeply wrong. But before Calla could resist the air, hold herself down and get the others away from danger, her free hand was being forced onto the handle of the cup.
Something jerked behind Calla's navel and she tried to scream, but it was lost to the air as they went flying off the ground, unable to let go and spinning wildly through the air. It was all she could do to hold her wand as tightly as she could and pray that she didn't throw up, squeezing her eyes shut. Shapes swum like stars before her, and even when she opened her eyes, it was dark.
And then they slammed into the ground and Calla felt every ounce of strength leave her as a cold voice whispered, Mine.
Author's Note: The predictions in the comments were so fun to read lol! Graveyard sequence starts next chapter... Are you excited or nervous or both? If you have any questions about what just happened, they will most likely be answered in the next chapter or so, but feel free to ask away in the comments!