A/N: I wished I owned Harry Potter. Alas, I do not. Ms. Rowling, I'd be happy to take it off your hands
Chapter 63: Favorites
June 24th, 1995
Victor nodded at Harry as they both entered the door underneath the giant screen in the middle of the quidditch field that had been set up over the last few days. Somehow, it was determined he and Harry would get a slight lead over Cedric and Fleur. None of the champions cared much. They were all in it to win it, but a very short lead in an hours long task wouldn't matter much. The path slanted downwards and they came to a halt as the path split four ways.
"Lumos," Harry called, raising his wand. Above each path was a crest. Victor noticed the Durmstrang crest above the third path, and nodded. "A crest for each of us?" Harry mused. Victor saw a Gryffindor crest on the first path, followed by a Hufflepuff crest, presumably for Cedric. Finally, the last path had a Beauxbatons crest. "Should I mess with them and take the Hufflepuff path?"
"You could," Victor mused. "But perhaps the reason they gave us multiple paths is so that each person could take a path that would be challenging but possible to complete. Do you think Cedric could complete a path that would challenge you?"
"Point taken," Harry responded, and Victor could see in his friend's face that he was preparing for the unknown. "See you on the other side." With that Victor watched Harry sprint down his path for half a moment, before turning and heading down his own. Slowly the ambient light faded and soon Victor was alone in the blackness. A slight touch to his holster and his wand flew into his hand. A few quick motions and a few balls of light floated around his head, allowing the Bulgarian to get his bearings.
He was in a giant stone cavern. A glance around told Victor that in the darkness, the path had begun to slant down, and now he was at least a few hundred feet below the surface. Bagman had said the first chamber, which Victor guessed was where he was now, was the chamber of fear. There were a few things he feared, but he shared his real fears with no one, not even Luna.
Victor heard a sound and whirled sharply, his wand tracking some movement on the far side of the cave. He couldn't make out exactly what was moving, but with no clear exit from the cavern, he headed towards the vague outline of something he couldn't make out. Perhaps it was time to confront a fear. As he neared the figure, it seemed to stumble, and Victor held back a harsh gasp.
"Victor?" Victor looked on fearfully at the black-haired girl in front of him. "Where am I?"
"Natasha?" Victor was flabbergasted. This was the chamber of fear, so why was Natasha here, seemingly unhurt? Something odd was going on. Victor cast a few quick diagnostic spells, but nothing came back. Apparently, Natasha was somehow in front of him. Then again, the second task had involved the tournament heads essentially kidnapping Luna. It wasn't out of the realm of possibility for Natasha to be involved somehow.
"Hey Vic," Natasha said, hugging him around the waist. "So, last thing I remember was showing up at breakfast."
"Well, apparently the crazy tournament organizers have decided to endanger yet another important person to me." Victor shook his head as Natasha released him. "To be fair, I suppose that if father allowed you to be involved, you won't be at real risk."
"You know how father is," Natasha responded with a small laugh. "If I wanted to go fight a nundu, he wouldn't be able to say no. And since mother isn't here right now…" Natasha trailed off.
"You are more trouble than you are worth," Victor chided the young girl.
"Well, I'm the only sister you have, so you better do a good job of taking care of me." Natasha looked around the cavern. "So what do we do now?"
"I haven't the faintest idea." Victor snapped his wand and the lights around him multiplied and shot up into the sky. The entire cavern was now illuminated, and Victor paused for a moment, silently acknowledging that the ICW had done an exceptional job of creating a space for the chambers he would go through. He was still on Hogwarts grounds, and there had not been underground caves a few weeks ago.
"I see something." Natasha's statement snapped Victor's mind back to the present. His lights had illuminated something in the middle of the cave. He put himself between his sister and whatever she had seen and slowly started walking towards the center. It looked like a pile of chains. Oddly, the chains were piled on top of each other, not holding anything. The chains weren't broken, simply lying there. "What do you think?"
"I think that if I didn't have to face a fearsome beast in the next chamber, a pile of chains holding nothing would worry me." Victor's wand was a blur of movement, again casting diagnostics. Finally, something stuck, and Victor levitated the chains into the air. One of them was cut clean through. "Well, apparently, something was in the chains-"
If he had been asked, Victor wouldn't have been able to give a real answer as to why he did what he did. It wasn't like he had a good grasp of sensory magic, and he didn't have a sixth sense for danger, at least not when he wasn't on a broom. But something in him screamed so Victor dove to the side, the spear of green energy passing through the space he had just been inhabiting.
"Darn it, and I was so close too," Natasha said, a wild grin on her face. "Stay still Vic! I promise it will be over soon."
"Tasha, what are you doing?" Victor brought his wand to bear on his sister. She fired a few spells at him, but she had just started Durmstrang last year, and it was all too easy for Victor to bat away her second-year spells. He hadn't recognized the spell that almost hit him in the back, but something was still odd. The wild grin on her face bothered him, and after a few more spells, Victor snapped off a disarming spell and caught her wand out of the air. "Don't make me stun you Tasha."
"Oh Vic, did you forget where you are?" Tasha dove at him, and Victor's eyes widened as her fingers transformed into claws. He managed to call on his physical magic at the last moment, but one of her fingers still managed to cut his side. "A simple stunning spell isn't enough for the chamber of fear." Victor ignored her, but wasn't too surprised when his powerful stunning spell hit her and seemed to dissipate upon contact, leaving his sister none worse for wear.
"I told no one of this fear," Victor told his sister. Well, whatever he was facing, it wasn't his sister. It probably never was, but a small part of him still held back, looking at her face.
"Of course you didn't," the young girl extended her arms and her claws shot into the air. Victor conjured a shield and the claws dissolved upon contact. He countered with a much more powerful stunner and shield breaker, but again the spells proved ineffective. No, Victor realized. It wasn't like she was shaking the spells off, or shielding. Something was wrapped around her, stopping his spells from impacting. "You'll have to do worse than that!" The wild grin was now feral as her fingers were once again replaced by claws.
Victor dodged a few wild slashes, and then was forced to dive into his physical magic again as he was almost caught in a corner. He wanted to save as much magic as possible for the tasks ahead, but twice now he had almost been at the mercy of the claws. Whatever he was facing was getting faster and smarter. But if this was based on his performance against Professor Hayashi a few weeks ago, he would have to use some unique tactics.
Victor created some distance with a blasting hex in between them and with a second to cast, Victor transfigured his opponent's shoes into stones. She jerked in her shoes for a moment, and in that instant Victor animated the chains, tying her arms to her body and then sticking the chains to the stone floor. One more quick transfiguration had the chains sinking into the stone, dragging his sister to her knees.
"You won't win any prizes for fancy transfiguration," his sister snarled. Victor waved his wands and the chains tightened.
"You are not my sister," Victor told the bound girl.
"Oh, but I am," the girl told him with a giggle. "You know what you fear, Victor. You didn't grow up like these spoiled Hogwarts brats. You know the world is not good vs. evil. You remember the horror of hearing that your uncle would never return to the house, because father had to kill him. And you fear-"
"I fear the same fate," Victor breathed out. "To be able to leave the chamber, I must face my fear."
"Yes, Vic." The wild smile was replaced by a resigned look. "To exit this chamber, you must kill me. Just do it quickly and painlessly."
"Are you mad?" Victor turned away angrily. He desperately looked around the cavern, hoping an exit would have appeared now that he had subdued his opponent, but the smooth walls revealed no exit.
"Come on, Vic," his sister said. "You suspect that I am not truly your sister. I am some form of illusion, an advanced glamor, or Polyjuice, right?"
"I don't know that for sure," Victor snarled. "But even if that is true, even if I knew for sure that you were not my sister, you are still a human being. I am not killing anyone."
"Did you not think there was a reason that the ICW made sure that this chamber would not be seen? They specifically told you that the crowd would see you in the second and third chamber." Victor looked up at that. "They were basically beginning you to use dangerous spells. But you resisted. You should have taken me out during the fight, that was your mistake. It could have gone down as the heat of the moment. Now, it's cold blooded murder. Do you have it in you?"
"I…"
"You said you would do whatever you could to win," the girl reminded him. "Yes, Harry is probably the favorite, but this is your chance to prove you are more than a face on a broom. Have you forgotten the opportunities this will give you? If you lose here, no one will ever accept you into academia. You couldn't even beat a fourth year? You'll. Be. A. Mockery."
"I will do whatever I need to do to win," Victor said, almost in a trance. He brought his wand up smoothly, aiming at the head of his sister. "Sometimes, you have to do horrible things to achieve your goals." A purple light appeared at the point of his wand. "But sometimes…" the light died and his wand went down, "there are lines you have to draw. I am not so foolish to say that sometimes lives have to be taken. If Harry had not appeared, and I had the chance to kill Igor to protect Luna, I would have, with no hesitation."
"So you choose to protect a principle you do not truly believe in?"
"Death should not be dealt out so easily," Victor affirmed with a sigh. "Besides, I would never hurt my sister." He conjured a chair. "How do I forfeit the tournament?" He heard something behind him and almost fell out of his chair as he saw a part of the cavern wall fall away. He turned back to his sister to see her just dissolve into air. There was no doubt that this was a new entrance, as he had come in the other side.
"Is that a forfeit, or was this all just to mess with my head?" Victor muttered to himself. "I will get going anyways." He banished the chair and headed through the new hole. He kept his guard up, unsure if he had somehow defeated the task by refusing to kill his sister, or if he was on his way back to the surface, having forfeited. The tunnel widened and then Victor was in an equally big cavern. Apparently he had indeed passed the challenge of the chamber of fear.
"Welcome to the second part of the final task," an unknown voice called out, echoing around the chamber. "You will be facing a dangerous beast in a moments time. Your job is not to defeat the beast, but rather to survive for 20 minutes. You may injure the beast, but if you slay or mortally wound the beast, you will be disqualified. Please acknowledge that you understand, and you would like to continue. You may forfeit at any time during the task, but be forewarned, it will take 20 seconds for help to arrive. Either call out loudly that your forfeit, or shoot up red and green sparks."
"I accept," Victor said.
"Good Luck, Durmstrang champion." Victor heard metal screeching, and saw a platform slowly lowering from the ceiling. He couldn't see the beast yet, but there was a cage on the platform, and the cage was being thrown side to side. Victor had time to take a few deep breaths as the platform settled. The cage fell away and Victor held back a curse.
It had been crazy to steal an egg from a nesting dragon. Victor had forgotten how crazy that task was. That was a suicide mission, and these people still had some say in the tournament. He had confronted the dragon for at most a few minutes. 20 minutes was an exceptionally long time. As Victor stared at the creature across him, he was assured that everyone involved in this tournament was totally and completely insane.
The graphorn stared at Victor balefully, anger and frustration in its eyes. Victor would never call himself an expert on creatures that humans had no chance off communicating with, but he had come across graphorns in his studies. He knew that older graphorns had longer horns, and that older graphorns were far more aggressive and dangerous. He didn't have any real reference, but the horns on the catlike creature across from him looked awfully long.
For a moment, Victor hoped that the graphorn had no intention of attacking him. Maybe with age came wisdom, the wisdom to leave someone who did not want to harm him alone. The creature growled, and Victor sighed to himself. It wasn't his lucky day. His wand was out and he threw up two translucent shields. He didn't want to lose vision on the beast and allow it the chance to surprise him. Even with his physical magic on full blast, he doubted he could take more than 1 direct hit and stay standing.
The benefit of the translucent shield was that the beast didn't see it as it pawed the ground. It roared and raced towards him. Victor pumped power into the shield, but as the beast smashed into the shield he felt a tremor run down his arm. The shield held as the graphorn rose onto his hind paws and smashed down with the horns. As the third blow Victor rolled away, allowing the beast to smash his shield.
The graphorn looked around and didn't see Victor. It thrashed its horned head around, then stumbled back as two bludgeoning spells came from the right, hammering into its side. Victor dropped his disillusionment spell as the beast turned its baleful gaze on him. He vaguely remembered reading something about how a graphorn's skin was more magically resistant than a dragon. He was forced to skip aside as the beast rushed at him.
Although he had a long way to go, Victor felt like he had a basic grasp on the beast. It was strong, freakishly so, and had no problem smashing into magical shields. The graphorn was also faster than anything something a little bigger than the creature's professor at Hogwarts had the right to be. It also could take a magical beating no problem, and Victor doubted his fists would do much better. It was indeed a fearsome opponent.
But the tournament organizers had given him an opponent with flaws. The graphorn's lateral movement and agility when on the move was very limited. While it had a decent sense of smell, the ability to track Victor when he was disillusioned with not great. It was easier than a dragon, perhaps why the beast was not chained. There was also no ranged attack.
The graphorn has finished it's turn from the miss before and was charging back towards him. Victor stabbed his wand forward, water pouring from his wand. Just as the graphorn hit the water, Victor cast again, changing the water to ice. The graphorn went sliding on the ice and Victor easily avoided it. As the beast slid past him Victor hit it on the back with two stinging hexes. The intent was to keep it rilled up and as the ice ended and the graphorn regained its paws it roared, leaving Victor smiling.
It had turned and lowered its head, and Victor prepared for another charge. This time the graphorn jumped right before Victor, but with his adrenaline pumping and his physical magic reinforcing his reaction time Victor slid underneath the beast. He had a shot at its unarmored belly so he put a little force into his bludgeoning spell and the graphorn fell heavily. He would have a few seconds to catch his breath as it recovered from having the wind knocked out of him.
All of this was a little defensive, and Victor wasn't instinctively a defensive wizard. Of course, he had showed during the dueling showcase that he was offensively minded, and as with the first chamber, perhaps success was meant to be attained by showing well rounded abilities. But it did not sit well with him to sit back for more minutes and let the beast pound away at him. It was time to be a little more proactive.
The graphorn was recovered now and Victor started summoning birds by the dozen sending them swirling around the graphorn. The beast was temporarily confused, but its eyes lit on Victor and it charged through the birds, right into a metal shield Victor conjured. The shield held and as the graphorn shook its head angrily, Victor sailed over the top of the shield, hitting the beast with a few hexes that could be best classified as grey. The eyes clouded over and one leg stared shaking. Victor landed and took a few deep breaths. Those hexes took a toll on him, but it should severely limit the damage the animal could do.
Another growl, this one a bit confused came from the mouth of the beast. Victor eyed his foe curiously as it seemed to begin to steam. His eyes widened as its eyes regained their normal black color and the leg straitened into place. He prepared to dodge again as it raced towards him, but a last second burst of speed over the last 10 feet caught him off guard. Victor threw up a hasty shield but the full speed charge smashed through the shield and Victor felt a few ribs crack as the beast grazed his side.
It had barely caught him on his side, but he was injured now. Luckily, Victor was used to self-diagnosing injuries from quidditch bludgers. Unfortunately, that experience meant he knew that not only did he have more than a few ribs cracked, the horns had cut through his left oblique. He could only hope there was very little time left, as his mobility was seriously limited.
He was stuck in place as the graphorn attacked again. Victor leveled his wand and a dark stream shot out, hitting the graphorn head on. As the beam hit, the beast was smashed back, but it slowly started to force its way through the attack. Victor started to sweat as he forced magic into the spell, and the graphorn was stuck in place, the force behind the beast's attempt to go forward equal to the power of the spell.
It couldn't have been more than a minute in the direct clash, but it felt like an eternity. Victor heard a chime and disengaged, lowering his wand. He looked around and saw a hole appear on the far side of the chamber. The graphorn was preparing to charge again, and it was between him and the exit.
"Congratulations!" He heard a voice ring out. "You have lasted 20 minutes against your creature. Please exit the chamber and proceed to the final chamber to face your knowledge test."
"Any chance you could restrain the beast?" Victor called out, but nothing happened. Apparently, he had one final face off with the graphorn. He has saved one surprise, and Victor reached into his robe as the graphorn attacked. When it was a few feet away, Victor withdrew his arm, and a chain with a ball on the end smashed into the graphorn's head, stunning it. The graphorn looked around, and saw Victor right in front of it. It slashed its horns and bit deeply into Victor's flesh. Or it would have if the attack had not passed straight through the Bulgarian.
Victor ended the illusion as he hauled himself into the hole. The wall closed behind him and Victor summoned a few lights to float around him. He debated stopping to try and heal himself, but decided to soldier on. He didn't imagine he would need to be healed for the knowledge test. He saw light at the end of the tunnel and heard what sounded like a crowd of people from outside. He jogged upwards for a few seconds, but had to stop as the oblique started to hurt.
Finally he cleared the tunnel and had to hold back a laugh. Somehow he had ended up where he stared, as he emerged from underneath the giant screen broadcasting the second chamber to applause and cheers. He looked to the left and saw Harry looking as haggard as he had ever seen. His left arm was covered in blood and he had what looked like claw marks across his chest. Victor couldn't help but wonder what had happened to him.
As Victor started walking forward, wards flared around him. He looked down, confused. At his feet he saw a stone tablets with writing on them. He recognized one immediately as Italian. He read the inscription and couldn't help smiling.
"Your knowledge test will be a translation test, due to your language knowledge. Decipher all the clues and it will tell you how to get out. The tri-wizard cup and your victory are right in front of you." Victor looked up and saw the glistening cup twenty feet away. "Ok then." He sat and grabbed the first tablet. He heard cheers and saw Fleur emerge from below the screen. She looked wounded as well, but had a determination Harry didn't seem to have. But as he looked over Harry's wounds, he couldn't help but wonder what he had faced.
-O-O-O-O-O-O-O—O-O-O—O-O-O—O-O-O-
Harry put Victor out of his mind as he jogged along. His path seemed to be sloping down, but in the darkness he couldn't tell for sure. His sensory magic was deployed around him, which meant he was kept at a jog. He didn't expect anything until the first chamber, but it paid to be careful. It took a few minutes, but finally the tunnel ended. Harry slowed and with a flick of his wand lights appeared, spreading out to illuminate his surroundings.
It was a giant chamber. There was more than enough space to face plenty of fears. The idea of facing his fears wasn't one that had Harry too worried. He doubted that whatever he would face would truly rank as one of his greatest fears. At the same time, if someone had managed to ferret out of one his two greatest fears, this would not be an easy challenge.
He heard the entrance close behind him and looked around. There was nothing in the chamber, which made Harry both curious and a little nervous. His training with Li Min had drilled patience into him when necessary and this seemed like one of those times. He sat, crossed his legs, and slowly began to extend his sensory magic.
"You feel like getting up?" A deep voice called out.
"I was getting tired of waiting," Harry said, standing and opening his eyes. It was a man not much older than him. He had similar black hair and an easy confidence about him. Harry also suspected from his build, similar to his own, that the man he was facing was also a martial artist. It seemed probably the man he would face would be magical as well, but it didn't do to jump to conclusions.
"Shall we start?" The man darted forward and Harry threw an elbow at him. The man dropped and swung his leg. Harry hopped over it, driving down in an attempt to break his leg. The man was already flipping upwards, driving his other foot into his chest. Harry caught the leg and was about to twist when he was thrown to the side. He rolled to diffuse the fall damage and came to his feet, seeing the wand in his opponent's hand.
Harry tapped his holster and flipped his wand to his left hand. This man was good, just as fast as him and Harry hadn't even felt the spell until it hit him. He had spent almost the entire time in the gates with his wand in his off-hand. He was essentially ambidextrous with his wand, so he wanted his spare hand to be his dominant side. His wand came up as his opponents did.
A bevy of definitely dark hexes came Harry's way. His training with Sirius and Remus all those months ago kicked in, and Harry began to flick away the spells. The spells turned to curses, and Harry was forced to fire counter curse after counter curse. His opponent was relentless, firing spell after spell with flawless form, making sure Harry couldn't even think about firing back. This man was more than competent. He was certainty master class.
The spells Harry countered and flicked away stayed extremely dangerous. Flash flame, bone breakers, and cutting curses were the less dangerous of the spells, and one of the spells was one Harry didn't even recognize. That was beyond rare for Harry, as his training with the marauders and the Lightning Lord had seen him introduced to almost every dark spell in existence. He easily dodged it but was bracketed with more curses that he was forced to counter.
He knew the man was a martial artist from their owning clash, but apparently this man was determined to keep him at a distance. It had been at least three minutes since the spell exchange started, and Harry started to get irritated. Sure, it was tough to counter attack, but he was far from helpless. He had been able to deal with all his attacks rather easily, it was just hard to counterattack. But he had never been a particularly passive fighter.
Harry threw some extra power into a counter, forcing the man to dodge for the first time. Now it was Harry on the offensive with a flurry of spells at the other man. His spells were just as dark and dangerous, a few harmless hexes thrown in between to throw the other man off his game. Everything was flicked away, even the curses. That was an extremely high level technique, and Harry slowed his casting. If the man could flick away his attacks with nearly no effort, including his curses, spell casting would have to be his second option.
Harry closed the distance in an instant, tossing his wand in the air. The man weaved through the torrent of blows, and Harry caught his wand inches from the man, who grabbed his arm and yanked it away. In that instant, Harry landed a harsh kick on the man, but somehow his opponent rotated his torso to avoid lasting damage. The two jumped back from each other, and Harry noticed curiously that the man's eyes were closed. That surprised Harry.
Eyes closed during a spell exchange wasn't unheard of, especially if you had extensive experience and excellent sensory magic. For someone like Harry, who had nearly eliminated indicative wand movements, being able to see him to try and recognize spells was a pointless exercise. It was odd behavior to be sure, but not unheard of in a duel between high level wizards.
But Harry had not but an ounce of magic into his blows. He unconsciously used physical magic to be sure, but he had barely used an ounce of power in the exchange but the man had dodged everything. That was beyond bizarre, and was something even master classes couldn't do. If he didn't know better, he would believe his mind was being read, but even Nambung, an incredibly powerful legilimens couldn't even begin to dent Harry's mind defenses. Something else was going on.
"Quite impressive," Harry admitted. "I haven't had a fight like this in a while."
"Oh please." The mystery man laughed. "Are you all that surprised that I'm not looking?" Harry just shook his head ruefully. "You'll need to improve quickly, or I'll stop holding back."
"Isn't this supposed to be what I fear?" Harry asked. "This is sure going to be a tough fight, but I mean…"
"Ah, you have yet to figure out what I am?"
"What do you mean, what? Don't you mean who?"
"Oh, you know the who." The man opened his eyes and Harry staggered back. It had been staring him in the face. The man was only two inches taller than him, but the build was the same, the hair was the same. And he had never met anyone with the glowing emerald green eyes staring back at him. He saw them when he looked in the mirror and nowhere else.
"You are me?"
"A version of you, yes," the man confirmed. "An older version, a more powerful version. You won't beat me."
"So how do I get past you?" Harry asked.
"Figure out why you fear me, and conquer that fear," older Harry said. "Then maybe you'll get out here alive." Harry felt a shiver run down his spine. "Enough talk for now." Harry had been trained to never take his eyes off the enemy. But as the blindingly fast spear of fire flew from his opponent's wand Harry's only thought was to avoid it as he dropped to the floor. His instincts had him rolling to the side and the cavern floor exploded as older Harry smashed past Harry's head with a punch that had Harry retreating.
Exchanging spells wouldn't work. If this was an older version of himself, he wouldn't have a chance. Regardless of training, as you got older, your magic reservoir increased. With training, your precision would increase naturally as well. Fighting anyone over twenty would naturally present problems. Fighting himself above twenty with magic was a disaster waiting to happen.
But that single punch as well as some of older Harry's defensive movement meant that close combat was just as dangerous. What's more, it seemed like his older self could predict his movement. Harry reasoned it made sense if he could literally travel back in time, he was certain to remember the fight. But that seemed unlikely. He had no idea how an older version of himself was standing here, but time travel of multiple years should be impossible.
His older self had told him that he was afraid of his older self. As Harry desperately countered the spell barrage from his mirror image, he tried to figure out what specifically his older self meant. The one thing that jumped to his mind was that this was a fight he literally could not win. Sure, it was technically possible. But the puncher's chance Harry might have when fighting a fully confirmed master was erased by the fact he was fighting someone who knew his tendencies, and how he might overcome an impossible gap of skill, talent, and power.
Harry was forced again and again to abandon his form and poise as the spells slicing through the air simply overpowered any chance Harry had to deflect, or even consider counter attacking. It was all about dodging anyway he could. It was becoming demoralizing and seemingly hopeless. His opponent was creative and a real pain to fight but had not used a single spell Harry did not already know, which worried him. He wasn't even being taken seriously, and Harry was forced to hold back his irritation. If there was one thing he couldn't do, it was lose focus.
The speed of the spells and the transition time between spells rose dramatically. Apparently old Harry was done playing. The fourth champion was forced to shield anything he could, somehow dodging shield breakers. But one slipped past his shield and caught him high on the shoulder. It left a bloody gash that left Harry gasping. In that instant he felt his legs lift the floor as his opponent hit with enough force to literally send him flying.
Harry managed to force himself to rise and keep defiance in his eyes. His opponent clearly saw the defiance and Harry saw something in himself that had him shaken to the core. His older self had no interest in winning this fight. It was the look that Nambung had in Peru. The only focus was making sure that the person in front of him did not walk out alive, at any cost.
It hit Harry like a thunderbolt. This was a version of his older self. How he appeared to himself didn't matter, but what shook him, what would shake him was the possibility that this summer and the future changed him. He knew that one version of the upcoming summer had him assuming the Mibu Wolf, replacing his master as Nambung became the Premier of Magical Korea, forced to relinquish his role as the Mibu Wolf. If Harry was accepted by the squad and the powers that be, Nambung planned to have Harry replace him.
He heard so many stories about the burden of being the wolf, leading the wolves in battle. At times, Harry wondered why his master had even mentioned the possibility of Harry assuming his role when he knew it would affect his life into perpetuity. Of the three Mibu Wolves that preceded Nambung, two were shells of their former selfs, and the third had not left his desk at the Thai Ministry. Of course Nambung was a special case, and as much as Harry liked to believe he was a special case as well due to his less than ideal childhood, he wasn't Nambung.
They both had their scars. In Harry's case, the scars were more literal. Some had faded due to intensive healing, and his mind felt clearer than it ever had. As much as he might have been reluctant to admit it, the summer hadn't been the driving factor of the quiet in his mind. It had been the moment it started but Dumbledore's moronic comment he made over the summer to Takashi about Harry being driven by love had turned out to be spot on.
Harry had gotten stronger over the year, would have gotten stronger regardless of what happened. But he was kept grounded by love. The romantic love of Daphne, Fleur, and to a lesser degree Hermione. The love of friends like Neville, Dean, and Susan. The love of his family in the form of Akira, Nambung and McGonagall. It was all new to him and it drove him in a way he never would have imagined.
The largest scar on his back was slowly beginning to fade despite it not being touched by a healer in months. The theory had been that as Harry evolved as a person and began to accept who he was, what had happened, and moved past it the scar might fade. It had proven true, even if Harry avoided discussing the Dursley's with anyone, even his girlfriend. He would have to confront them over the summer, to keep the promise he made to the departed soul of his mother, if any of his insane vision in between life and death had been real.
Nambung's scars were not as physical, even though he had some nasty ones littered over his body. But he had been broken mentally and emotionally in a way that made Salvador Dali's life seem like a picnic. The artist had been informed by his parents that he was the reincarnated soul of his dead brother, going so far as to literally make him relive the life his brother had lived. It surely manifested in some of the most bizarre paintings Harry had ever seen.
And even with that horrible experience as a benchmark, Nambung's childhood wasn't even in the same ballpark. When Harry had struggled to open up, Nambung had shared bits and pieces. They were both survivors, not victims, his master had stressed repeatedly. But what he survived was a drop in the ocean compared to the trials that forged the current Mibu Wolf, the man who might buck the trend of insanity.
But the man Harry faced now was a man who had lost himself in the role. All of the people in his life who knew the role and the man before Nambung assured Harry that he could survive the role, that someone with his strength of character and mental toughness wouldn't vanish into the role. But he was terrified that Harry would vanish, that Harry Potter would vanish, that even the boy-who-lived would vanish. Even that stupid title was better than the world where the only thing that existed was the brutal version of the wolf that lived to hunt and kill above all else.
The fear that he would lose the love he had now. That Fleur would look at him in disgust at the blood he couldn't wash from his hands, say the eternal love she pledged was for Harry, who didn't exist in his body anymore. For his friends to blanche in horror and refuse the company of the man who lived in the darkness. For his family to turn their backs on the shadow of the man he might become.
That was one of Harry's great fears. It was why even if he had the chance to become the wolf, an honor offered to only the greatest of magical martial artists, something that would forever change his life, he might turn it down. Because while he would access to resources and experiences others could not even imagine, the entirety of change might not be worth it.
And if that was the fear Harry was forced to confront… Harry slipped his wand into his holster as a fire spell flew past his cheek. The older version's face twisted cruelly as he rushed at him, gathering power in his fist. Harry just smiled at him, stopping old Harry in his tracks.
"So you have decided on death."
"You don't exist." Harry took a deep breath. "I won't become you, you know."
"You think you are so special, that you can keep yourself sane in the role that has driven the greatest wizards of their generations to madness. Your arrogance knows no bounds," older harry spat with a sneer. "I should end you now for that hubris alone."
"Of course I can't keep myself sane," Harry told him. The older man raised his wand, preparing to deliver the final blow. "But I won't be on my own. I'll have Akira, Takashi and Nambung to talk to. I'll have my friends to give me a life outside of that world. I'll have more than that life, and you won't exist." Older Harry seemed to start glowing. "So I think you'll have to go." With a final pulse of life, his opponent simply shattered into pieces of light, vanishing from the chamber.
Harry heard a grinding sound and saw an opening on the far side of the cavern. He cast a quick diagnostic on the opening and ensured it would not close if Harry didn't enter immediately. He sat and took a quick inventory of his body and magical reserves. His injuries were all gone, which made Harry curious as to what had actually happened. He would have to figure out what the ICW had done to make the fight possible without revealing what he had faced. His magic was not drained, but a short break to recharge wouldn't be amiss.
When his lake was motionless and his magic was flowing cleanly again Harry rose and hoped into the opening, He raced forward, intent on making up time. He could only hope that the ICW's promise that no one would see what occurred during the first task would prove true, but there was naught he could do about it for the moment.
The next chamber appeared soon enough. For a moment Harry pondered how this had all been created so quickly. He had been dismissive of the ICW throughout the year. It was worth remembering that Europe had its share of talented wizards, many of whom Harry had not met. Dumbledore had certainty handled him well enough, and his opinions of Europe were majorly influenced by his master and the other wolves' derogatory opinions of his home continent. The British Isles was surely a mess, but it wouldn't do to tar all of Europe with that brush. Perhaps he would learn more this summer. It wouldn't be a bad thing to do, that was for sure. No matter what happened and what he chose to do, it wasn't like Harry would cut his friends and the continent out of his life forever.
So now it was time to face an unknown beast. Before the task started, Harry would have said this part of the task was what he was worried about for his fellow champions. After the fear he had faced, that view was firmly changed. But now it was time to see what the standard for the beasts was. Harry looked around as the tunnel behind him closed.
"Welcome to the second part of the final task!" A disembodied voice called out. Harry vaguely registered some comments about how to withdraw and the dangers, looking around for his opponent. He felt an odd presence, but whatever creature he was soon to face was certainly hidden from view, and had enough magical wherewithal to hide any sign of a presence.
"Hello," Harry heard in a distinctively feminine voice from behind him. "You must be the champion I am to face." Harry turned and his eyebrow's rose. The head of a human woman, the giant graceful body of a lion, and the giant and imposing wings of an eagle. Of course it was a Sphinx. Someone must have tattled about how much he hated riddles.
The two details he picked up with a second, closer inspection made him reconsider his view of the respective level of difficulty of the first two chambers. His initial observation about the voice was correct. This sphinx was a woman, which were known to have much tougher riddles and while they had more even temperaments, if the riddle was answered incorrectly they would pursue their prey until one was dead. The other part of his observation was what truly worried him.
The wings of the sphinx had a black tattoo on each wing, as well as black streaks on the body and two black triangle tattoos framing each eye. Shadow sphinxes were more than a rumor, any creature expert would attest to their existence, even if they had never seen one. They were more than just magical creatures, supposedly able to cast magic themselves as well as being naturally resistant to foreign magic. They were also unusual sentient and self-aware. This would be a fight Harry did not want, but his belief that he would correctly answer the riddle…
"Are you ready to hear my first riddle?"
"Your first riddle?" Harry squeaked.
"Of course, young champion. You will face three riddles, each tougher than the last. It would not do for you to walk past me and call it even with the other beasts your fellow champions will face." Harry just shook his head. Apparently shadow sphinxes were indeed very sentient and aware of more than just their current situation. He would have to solve three riddles. Harry debated saving time and just attacking the sphinx right away.
"Just give me the first one."
"I am something people love or hate. I change peoples appearances and thoughts. If a person takes care of them self I will go up even higher. To some people I will fool them. To others I am a mystery. Some people might want to try and hide me but I will show. No matter how hard people try I will never go down. What am I?"
"Can you repeat that?" The sphinx smiled and repeated it. Harry smiled as the sphinx finished. The first riddle was indeed an easier one. "You are age."
"Correct. Are you ready for the second riddle?" Harry nodded. "Only one color, but not one size. Stuck at the bottom, yet easily flies. Present in sun, but not in rain, doing no harm, and feeling no pain. What is it?" Harry kept himself from swearing. He had been lulled into a false sense of security from the easy one. He really hated riddles. He started pacing, his mind going over each part individually, coming up with a host of answers for each part, but with nothing overlapping on each part.
"Uh boy," Harry said slowly. "If I guess incorrectly, we will fight?" The sphinx nodded. "And I need to either answer the next two riddles or defeat you to move on?" The sphinx nodded again, lowering herself to the ground, her tail twitching. "Can you repeat it?" The sphinx obliged tail twitching excitedly. Harry just stared at the tattoos on the face of the sphinx and smiled again.
"It is a shadow. Lucky you are a shadow sphinx."
"The third riddle then." The sphinx didn't even ask if he was ready anymore "Five hundred begins it, five hundred ends it, five in the middle is seen. The first of all letters and the first of all numbers take the spaces between. Now put it together and you will discover the name of a once-famous king. Who is it?"
"A name this time," Harry concluded, his mind whirling. This one didn't make any sense. How could letters and numbers co-exist in a name? He was sure that Hermione would make the connection, and Minnie would be laughing at his foolish attempts to reason this out. Of course they might as well be leagues away for all it would help. "Can you repeat it?" The sphinx obliged and Harry was just as stumped.
He sat and crossed his legs, making sure the lake was nicely in place. He stood and stretched a little, making sure everything was in place. "One more time please."
"Five hundred begins it, five hundred ends it, five in the middle is seen. The first of all letters and the first of all numbers take the spa-" Harry's magic gauntleted fist smashed the sphinx into the far wall.
"I hope it's not Henry and I didn't do something stupid," Harry said as the sphinx rose easily.
"You chose correctly," the sphinx said. "Let us begin the true test." Harry watched as the sphinx blurred and the shadows across her body expanded, and the sphinx vanished in front of him.
"Oh. I guess shadow sphinx was literal too," Harry said stupidly. "That's not good." He expanded his sensory magic instantly, but didn't feel a thing. "That's really not good. Like the worst possible-" He leapt over the appearing paw of the sphinx, landing a magic infused kick on it's chin. The human aspect of the face betrayed the sphinx as it was stunned by the kick as the brain was rattled. "Ok, why don't you just go to sleep!" Harry rotated every joint in his body, channeling it into a powerful punch that impacted the center of the lion's chest.
The strike-through slip strike was a hybrid technique combining the strike through technique he had learned over the summer with the magically enhanced slip strike that allowed him to hit the core of a person, instead of any shield. Harry had added his own twist, allowing him to imbue a certain spell in his fist. With the sphinx he cast a powerful paralysis spell as his fist impacted. It was brilliant and Harry stepped back, satisfied. But the sphinx just growled and vanished again.
"What?" It took Harry half a second to realize his mistake. The paralysis spell would have frozen a human for 10 minutes. But the sphinx was 3 times the size so he should have used another spell. He knew that killing the sphinx wasn't a good idea, but if a specialty crafted paralysis punch hadn't even fazed it, he might need to consider some more permanent options.
This time the swipe came from the right, and even as Harry avoided it he walked straight into a beam of darkness that sent him sprawling. The sphinx was relentless as she stalked Harry. He managed to contort his body to avoid the claws once, twice, and countered with a blast of fire from his wand, sending the sphinx back. Harry shook his head, clearing the figurative stars circling it, and say the sphinx doing the same. He took a ready stance and beckoned to the sphinx. The sphinx ignored the bait and faded out of view again.
"Well, it least it has to appear before attacking," Harry muttered. There was no point in wasting strength with sensory magic when it didn't track the sphinx, so he dropped his sensory magic, putting a little more magic in his legs. The speed paid off as he ducked under another attack and was able to impact heavily on the left wing with a twin kick. Harry heard a distinct crack and the sphinx cried out in pain. Harry landed on the back and drew back his fist to end the fight. Yet again he was sent flying by a shadowy blast. This time it had been focused and targeted, and as Harry landed, he realized he couldn't feel his left arm. He quickly looked down, just ensuring that he still had his arm. Blood was dripping down from the shoulder and he would need to look at that, but for the time being having two arms seemed like a victory.
"You will die for this," the sphinx snarled, fading into darkness again.
"Ok, enough of that," Harry snapped. His wand weaved in a complex pattern, and the sphinx was forced into sight and immobilized.
"Impossible," the sphinx gasped.
"Just very challenging," Harry corrected through bated breath. "Now, are you going to tell the tournament organizers I have bested you and swear on your magic to not hunt me, or do I have to get more violent?" The sphinx seemed to bunch and kicked violently snapping the magical bonds around her. "Have it your way." Harry's wand moved in the familiar triangle pattern and the spell caught the sphinx high in the shoulder. As the lion legs bunched and leapt at Harry, he jerked his wand upwards and a jet of air caught the sphinx in the belly, sending her into the ceiling. The other wing snapped on contact, and the sphinx was in free fall as she fell. She managed to land on her feet.
"Of course. Cats always land on their feet." Harry muttered. With a burst of speed Harry hadn't seen the half cat covered the cavern, and he couldn't dodge the paw entirely, a series of lacerations appearing on his chest.
"Ha!" The sphinx crowed in triumph.
"Ok, now you are so dead," Harry spat back. He took a deep breath and lightning began to crackle around him.
"Not a chance!" The sphinx dived at him, and Harry just smiled as the sphinx smashed through his illusion.
"Game!" Harry yelled appearing right behind the sphinx's neck. He made sure the snap of his hand was crisp and direct, landing the blow behind the ear. The sphinx staggered now, and Harry's wand touched the small of her back. "Now, you will say you lose, tell the tournament people I can go on, and you will swear on your magic and eternal soul, or I swear I will burn a hole right through you."
"I will never-"
"Leil Geon!" The lightning burst from Harry's wand, cutting a hole straight through the sphinx. "Wadong!" The lightning began to swirl in a vortex, and Harry jumped off as the sphinx was eaten alive by lightning. After a moment Harry ended the spell, and watched dispassionately as the sphinx twitched from the lightning. It took a few more seconds, but the sphinx moved no more. Harry glared at the ceiling angrily, figuring that the spell broadcasting his actions was somewhere up there. "Happy now? I had to kill an endangered animal! When I finish this stupid tournament, I'm coming for you next!" He had no idea if the task had audio, but he was rightly pissed.
He was seriously injured. He still couldn't feel his left arm or move it, and there was blood still dripping from the cuts on his chest. He was a little light-headed, and didn't have a ton of magic to spare. He sighed and his shoulder began to vibrate. After a moment the bleeding slowed, and Harry flexed the arm experimentally, making sure he had full range of movement. He looked at the arm and frowned. The arm was literally red, totally soaked in his blood. All he could hope was that none of the others faced a creature that was probably a XXXXX creature. It might have honestly been better to deal with a dragon again. The shadow spells had really done him in, as protecting himself with a physical shield had sucked his power something fierce.]
After a moment, a hole appeared in the cavern. The disembodied voice said something about congratulations but Harry was into the tunnel before the voice got 5 words out and raced towards the surface. He heard the murmurs of the crowd as he reached the end of the tunnel and burst out into the sun. He looked around in surprise, seeing that he had exited a door right next to the one he had entered at the beginning. The crowd roared at his appearance and Harry shook his head. The Triwizard cup was a few hundred feet from him, and Harry frowned. Was there supposed to be a third chamber? He took a few steps forward and was knocked back. His wand was instantly flicked into his hand by a quick touch to his holster and Harry saw the runes glowing around him. It was a pattern he had never seen before, which was frustrating to say the least.
One string was in Norse runes, and Harry focused on those runes directly, to the exclusion of the rest. Norse runes were odd, as the verbs and nouns tended to be in odd positions. In sentences like the ones he was reading right now, with multiple verbs and nouns, it took extra time to make sure the right things were paired together, which was tough when everything was the same tense and number. But after a few minutes of intense concentration, Harry had a working translation.
"Your expertise in runes and the speed at which you use them has been well noted. To gain the tri-wizard cup and claim the victory, create a rune scheme allowing you to escape from the current trap you are in." Harry snapped his wand, and withdrew an intricate rune carving set from the gap in space his wand had just created. He ignored the crowd as he began to trace the runes in front of him onto a sheet attached to the carving set. Once he had all the runes copied he stowed his wand.
Harry wasn't sure how long he had worked when he heard the crowd roar so loud it interrupted his consciousness. He turned and saw Victor exit the tunnel, and within seconds he was caught in his own ward trap. Victor seemed to start on his task, so Harry returned to his task. Soon enough the crowd reacted again, and now Fleur joined them. Harry felt his spirits lift, and an epiphany struck him. Harry started carving, and he ripped the parchment clear of the set and placed it on the wards in front of them. The wards flared and then his sheet went up in flames, the wards around him dropping.
Harry stepped beyond the wards now busted and the crowd went crazy. Harry took a few steps towards the cup and then stopped, looking down at his watch. He estimated the first two chambers had taken around 30 minutes, and he had been working for another 15. The first two chambers shouldn't have taken any of them this long, especially since Victor and Fleur hadn't been far behind him. Where in the world was Cedric? After another few tentative steps, Harry turned. His wand was snapped into his hand and Harry turned back towards the final door with the Hufflepuff crest that Cedric should have emerged from.
The wards were clearly not expecting to be triggered from the cup side so it only took a few seconds for Harry to smash through them. He saw people in formal robes with ICW crests racing towards him, but he outpaced them all and slipped through the door onto Cedric's path. He didn't feel like running, so he simply summoned a sled, applied a grease spell to the bottom and kicked off. The sled raced down the path, and eventually slowed.
There was something on the ground stopping the sled from moving. Harry hopped off and inspected the ground. The substance was frustratingly sticky, and Harry was caught it in for a moment himself. He banished whatever had him trapped, noticing a tremor set off through the rest of the substance around him as he banished it. It took Harry a moment to realize what was around him, but then the memory popped into his brain, a memory long forgotten and even partially repressed. He knew exactly what was coating the tunnel. He had seen it once before, and apparently Cedric hadn't had a car to save him.
"Acromantula!" The idiot commission had indeed seen fit to give one of the contestants and XXXXX creature. He had been pissed before, but now he vowed silently that whoever made the creature decisions would pay dearly. But something bothered him, and he couldn't place it as he looked around. There was something, something odd about all the webbing.
"There's too much," Harry muttered as he looked around. "They couldn't have put the spider down here until recently, or it would have gotten out, and/or starved. So how did it weave so much?" Harry knew what the answer was the moment he finished his sentence. "More than one. Some must have followed it down here. Maybe they accidentally took one of Aragog's eldest children. I'll give them the benefit of the doubt and assume it was an accident. But Cedric didn't stand a chance."
Harry started pacing, making sure not to touch the webbing. His earlier banishment of the web might have been ignored, as the tremor had been very slight. But if the webbing sensed a second attack, he would really be in trouble. For the moment he had the element of surprise, though it took considerable effort not to jump into the fray. But he remembered the crazy amount of spiders in the woods and it calmed him a little. They wouldn't kill Cedric, but would rather wrap him up and transport him to the woods, where Aragog would probably order him killed. Cedric could still be saved, but Harry didn't know if the spiders had found another way into the cave, so he didn't have a ton of time.
Harry forced himself to sit, cross his legs, and it took a few minutes to even find the lake, his nerves frayed and worry for Cedric and a little anger at what he would have to do disturbing him. Finally he was calm and he stared at the webs, trying to figure out a plan. Eventually he had a rough idea, but he couldn't only hope there weren't too many spiders. His magic had recovered a fair amount, but he didn't want to burn himself out. The injuries from the sphinx were dragging him down too, and the last thing he needed was to injure his chest or his arm any more.
"So, what's going on?" Harry whirled and brought his wand up, a spell on his lips, his wand tip glowing. "Hey, put that down!" Harry stared in surprise at Victor, who was glaring at him.
"Victor? What are you doing here?"
"Helping you, idiot," Victor said. "The organizers are apparently afraid to interfere. Cedric didn't send out a distress signal, so they are worried if they interfere it will violate his contract. We have no such restrictions. Fleur is still stuck on her puzzle, so it's just the two of us. What's the situation?" Harry pointed at the webbing. "Ah, acromantula? How'd they get one?"
"There's definitely more than one. We somehow have a colony in the forest," Harry explained. Victor's face paled. "Yeah I know. It was on my to-do list while we had a competent head of the DMLE. Maybe you and I can grab a few people and go burn it out after this shit. After all they near a school of children, many of whom do not understand boundaries. Sure the centaurs do a good job of keeping the forest creatures in line, but they are bizarre at best. And I can promise you these ones are carnivores and have a taste for human flesh. It's a problem for another time, because right now, Cedric is in trouble."
"Right." Harry saw Victor focusing. "I'm here to help anyways. So do we wait for Fleur?"
"I'm tempted to say yes, because her flame specialty would be very useful. But I'm afraid we have wasted too much time already, and I don't want them to get away with Cedric, or potentially kill him before dragging him away. That means that we have go in and get him in a few minutes. How do you feel about playing bait?"
"With multiple acromantula? Are you mad?" Victor shot back.
"A little, but I assume you aren't at full power either. I'm not exactly running on low, but I can't afford to go in wand blazing. I need recon, to see where Cedric is, how many there are, etc. Now we have two people, so my plans are going to change. The leader can speak English, so hopefully some of the others have picked it up as well."
"Yes, I know," Victor replied. "You forget I study creature languages. I never wanted much to do with them. I don't much like little spiders, let alone massive ones that are known wizard killers. Just don't let them kill me."
"Hey, I want you alive and well to watch me take the damn trophy," Harry said. "Just so we are clear, I won, right?"
"I like that focus on the whole staying alive thing. We can deal with the minutia of the cup later," Victor answered.
"So bait?" Victor groaned, but Harry pressed him. "Ok, do you want to try and surprise and kill up to 4 grown acromantula?
"Fine," Victor agreed reluctantly. "So, what's the plan?"