Dudley got to his feet with Neville. Lavender gave Neville a quick kiss. All of the Gryffindors broke out into applause. Dean gave him the thumbs up when he passed and Fred Weasley patted him on the back while George shook Neville's hand.
The Ravenclaw table were cheering too and Luna stood up and came over to give him a hug. Most of the Hufflepuffs were cheering, though Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley booed Dudley when he passed. Susan Bones however gave him a smile the thumbs up.
Most of the Slytherin table booed, all except a small handful of students including Tracey Davies and a pair of twin girls who Dudley thought were the Carrow twins. Malfoy flashed his Durmstrang badge when they passed by.
"Gits," Neville said. Dudley laughed.
"Can't wait to see his face when one of us two win," said Dudley.
"Yeah, that's going to make all this worthwhile," Neville said, glaring at Malfoy as they passed.
Bagman fell into step alongside them. "Feeling okay, Neville? Confident?"
"I'm as ready as I'll ever be," Neville replied.
They walked onto the Quidditch field, which was now completely unrecognizable. A twenty-foot-high hedge ran all the way around the edge of it. There was a gap right in front of them: the entrance to the vast maze. The passage beyond it looked dark and creepy.
Lockhart was there waiting for them and upon seeing Dudley he hurried over and led him apart from Neville and Bagman.
"Feeling alright, Dudley?" he asked. He was wearing some brand-new, spectacular robes for the occasion in colors of turquoise. "Remember everything I've taught you? Now, best bet is to avoid danger if you can—the smokescreen charm, remember."
The smokescreen charm, Fumos, had been a last-minute idea of Lockhart's it created a cloud of thick smoke that Dudley could use as a distraction. Luckily, it had been a fairly simple charm and he had gotten the hang of it after a few sessions.
"Remember, run if you can—get to the center as quickly as possible. And remember the flagrate spell—mark your way," Lockhart said.
"I've got it," Dudley promised. "Don't worry, I'll win."
Dudley looked around at the other two. Krum looked calm, his jaw was set. Fleur looked pale and nervous, her blonde hair was tied back in a tight braid.
Five minutes later, the stands had begun to fill; the air was full of excited voices and the rumbling of feet as the hundreds of students filed into their seats. The sky was a deep, clear blue now, and the first stars were starting to appear. Hagrid, Professor Moody, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick came walking into the stadium and approached Bagman and the champions. They were wearing large, red, luminous stars on their hats, all except Hagrid, who had his on the back of his moleskin vest.
"We are going to be patrolling the outside of the maze," said Professor McGonagall to the champions. "If you get into difficulty, and wish to be rescued, send red sparks into the air, and one of us will come and get you, do you understand?"
The champions nodded.
"Off you go, then!" said Bagman brightly to the four patrollers.
"Good luck, Dudley," Lockhart said. "Remember everything I've taught you and you'll be fine. If you find yourself in a pinch, just do what I would do!"
The four patrollers walked away in different directions, to station themselves around the maze and Lockhart went to take a seat in the stadium. He was sat next to the judges and Dudley saw his girlfriend, Mako Suzuki was also there.
Bagman now pointed his wand at his throat, muttered, "Sonorus," and his magically magnified voice echoed into the stands.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! In first place, on an amazing 91 points, representing Hogwarts we have Neville Longbottom!"
The crowd burst into applause, cheering and whistles. Dudley could see Augusta Longbottom on her feet applauding with Algie jumping up and down beside her in his ridiculous checkered robes.
"In second place, representing Durmstrang, is Victor Krum on 80 points!" Krum got a large amount of applause too, despite being from a rival school. He didn't acknowledge it and instead kept staring straight at the entrance to the maze.
"In third place, Fleur Delacour, representing Beauxbatons. She has 58 points." Polite applause greeted this announcement.
"Finally, our other Hogwarts champion, Dudley Dursley on 53." There was a loud cheer, especially from the Gryffindors, and Dudley felt heartened that the school was supporting him despite being last. He could hear a lion roaring and saw Luna wearing a life-sized Lionhead mask.
"So, on my whistle. Neville, ready …" he blew his whistle.
Neville gave a small nod to Dudley and ran into the entrance to the maze, pulling his wand out as he did so.
Dudley waited, bouncing slightly on the soles of his feet. He was eager to be off.
Krum went next, then Fleur and then, finally-peep! Bagman blew his whistle.
Dudley drew his wand, lowered his head and sprinted into the maze.
It was pitch black inside the maze, the tall hedges managing to block out most of the noise from the crowd until it became a faint buzz. Ten yards inside, he came to his first fork. Lockhart hadn't gone through which direction to go, saying to only head towards the center. Dudley picked left. He cast lumos and hurried onwards, his wand pointed outwards. For a few minutes, all was silent. He turned right, left and then came to three passages—left right, or straight on. Straight on seemed to be heading towards the center. He ran that way, he turned a corner and ground to a halt immediately, almost stumbling. Here was his first challenge in the maze—a troll.
The size of Hagrid with long arms dangling to its knees, a dopey expression on its face and a thick, bobbly club in one of its hand—it looked like it could tear Dudley apart easily. He stared for a second or so, seemingly shocked to see somebody else here before it plodded forward.
Dudley swore. Lockhart hadn't gone over dealing with trolls at all. He had merely referred Dudley to reread "Travels with Trolls." If Dudley remembered right, Lockhart dealt with the trolls in that book by using a variety of strange and advanced transfiguration-conjuring a bucket over ones head, turning the floor it stood on into quicksand, encasing one in a giant cocoon and turning one into a pumpkin. All spells which were far beyond Dudley's abilities.
"Stupefy!" he said, as the troll lumbered closer. He might as well have thrown a pebble at it for all the good it did. The stunner just hit the troll in the chest with zero effect and the giant beast plodded steadily onwards.
Suddenly, Dudley remembered Lockhart's advice at the start of the task-"run from danger".
"Fumos!" Dudley cried and the maze filled up with a cloud of thick, black, choking smoke. He turned and ran back the way he came, once more reaching the fork. Remembering the charm he had practiced, he traced a red, fiery x in the air "flagrate!" marking the passage with the troll. He felt glad he had tried that.
He could hear the troll lumbering forward, so, wasting no time, Dudley picked the right hand passage. Just as quickly, he ground to a halt again. Ahead of him was buzzing a swarm of wasps—but each one was the size of Dudley's forearm. "No bloody way," Dudley growled and turned and fled back he way he had come once more before the giant wasps could see him. He hated wasps. He had been stung as a kid when one landed on his hotdog, and that had been painful enough. He imagined these ones must have stingers the size of knitting needles.
Once more he marked the passage with the flagrate charm. This time he ran down left hand passage. He followed it as it curved around and swore again. It was one of Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts—10 feet long, a jet of fire shot out of its end, singing the leaves of one of the hedges as it blasted forward. It looked like a giant lobster. Dudley hadn't expect Skrewts to be here and he had no idea what to do.
It looked like, once again, his best bet was to use Lockhart's tactic of running to safety. Quite out of breath now, he reached the crossroad. He could see the troll lumbering towards him from one tunnel, and the buzzing from the wasps was getting louder. No doubt the Skrewt was also coming his way.
There was no other option, he had to go back the way he had come and find a less dangerous way through the maze.
He turned to run, but had barely gotten three steps down the passage when his wand lit up a small child's doll sitting in the path. It had short, dark, curly hair and was just sitting there, looking at him, as if some child had dropped it.
For some reason, the fact this doll was so out of place scared Dudley even more than the troll, the Skrewt and even the giant wasps. He knew its presence here couldn't be a good sign.
"Hello, Dudley! Let's play a game!" the doll said in a cheerful voice, suddenly twisting its head towards him.
"Let's bloody not!" Dudley shouted and turned to run back the way he came. He ground to a halt—the troll was closer. He turned one way—he could now see the swarm of giant wasps buzzing towards him. He turned another—the Skrewt was there, scuttling onwards. He turned back—the doll was skipping along happily.
How was this fair? He thought, his head spinning from side to side. It seemed every monster possible had somehow zeroed in on his position. Was he wearing a "I hate monsters" sign or something?
He suddenly felt a heat against his chest. The amulet that Luna had given him—it was glowing.
What had the note said? It glows in the presence of dangerous, dark creatures. Well, Dudley thought, at least he knew Luna's gift worked.
Dudley was in a pickle. He had multiple choices, it seemed. Get eaten by a skrewt, stung to death by the swarm of wasps, clubbed to death by the troll, suffer whatever nasty thing the giggling doll had planned or send up red sparks and forfeit the competition.
Unless ... he had a sudden brainwave.
"Fumos!" Dudley cried, spinning his wand around so the entire passageway filled up with thick, black, choking smoke. Now the monsters couldn't see him, but, the flaw in his plan was, he couldn't see either.
Coughing he aimed his wand at the nearest bit of hedge. "Reducto! Reducto! Reducto!" he coughed, casting three spells at the hedge to blast a hole through it. He forced his way through, the branches tearing at him as he did so and emerged in a clear passage. Not wanting to wait around, he ran, twisting and turning aimlessly until finally, he collapsed to the floor to catch his breath.
"Bloody norah!" he said, mopping his brow.
"Bloody norah! Bloody norah! Bloody norah!" said a sing-song voice. Dudley froze and slowly glanced around. It was the doll—skipping merrily towards him and singing "bloody norah" over and over again.
"Why can't I catch a break?" Dudley said out loud, he clambered to his feet and ran, wanting to put some distance between himself and that horrible doll.
He paused. There was something glittering in his path—it looked like an enchantment of some kind.
"One, two, three, four five!" came a voice. "I'm going to catch Dudley alive!"
Dudley swore. It was here again.
"Six, seven, eight, nine time—then I'll be able to feast again!"
The doll skipped around the corner.
"What do I want to eat? I'll start with his handsies then his feet!" it sang.
Dudley had heard enough. He didn't care what the enchantment did—he was getting away from that stupid, horrible, curly-haired little freak of a doll.
As soon as he stepped into the glittering cloud, he felt his eye and mouth voluntarily forced shut.
"No he can't see! It's time to eat!" the doll giggled.
Dudley swore, or tried to, what came out was a "mphhh!"
He ran blindly forward, not caring what was ahead of him. As he burst from the spell, his eyes shot open. He swore, loudly as he collided with the prickly hedge. At least he was out.
"Try getting through that you little turd!" Dudley muttered, glancing back at the doll.
It was trying to get through that. It was skipping forward with its eyes forced shut, not caring about the enchantment.
"Bugger this! Stupefy!" Dudley shouted. The stunner hit the doll and had zero effect.
"Mppph mppphh oooo urgggh!" the doll tried to say something but couldn't as its mouth was still forced shut.
Why couldn't Neville or Krum or Delacour have gotten stuck with the creepy doll stalking them? Dudley thought as he ran, twisting and turning through the maze.
He paused after a few minutes, and waiting, his heart was pound. Silence—it appeared he was entirely alone.
He put his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. He could hear no footsteps, no giggling and no creepy songs about eating him. Dudley hardly dare to believe it, but it seemed he had shaken off the doll.
"There you are!" the familiar sing-song voice said.
This really wasn't fair. It was in front of him now. Skipping towards him, a wide grin on its face.
Dudley had had enough. Running hadn't worked. Spells hadn't worked. It was time to handle this the muggle way.
He ran towards the doll. As he got closer, its jaw dropped open, revealing a mouth full of razor sharp fangs.
"Piss off!" Dudley shouted, swinging his foot out and kicking the doll as if it was a football. His foot made a satisfying clunk as it hit the doll. He kicked it with enough force that it flew up into the air and over one of the hedges.
"Dud ..." a voice said, Dudley spun around, his wand raised, only to see Neville standing there, his hands raised.
"Relax, Dud, it's me," Neville said.
Dudley lowered his wand and swore.
"Did I just see you kick a doll over a hedge?" Neville asked.
"That little shit has been following me all over the place," Dudley grumbled. "Bloody norah ... this thing is tough."
"Really? I haven't encountered anything yet," Neville said in genuine surprise.
Dudley gaped at him. "You're joking?"
Neville shook his head.
"That's not fair! I've had ... a troll, a swarm of giant wasps, a blast-ended skrewt, a spell that made me go blind and a creepy little doll singing songs about wanting to eat me! And you've had nothing!" Dudley almost shouted.
"I guess I got lucky," Neville said, with a shrug. "We should continue, I think we're about halfway to the center."
"Yeah, ok," Dudley said. He walked with Neville up until the next fork. "Left or right?"
"I'll go ... right?" Neville said.
That was fine with Dudley. "Good luck," he said.
"Likewise," replied Neville, and he went his own way.
Dudley turned and hurried along the left-hand path. He really hoped that wretched little doll was gone for good.
Dudley hurried forward, turning right and then left, feeling certain he was going the right way. Suddenly he halted, his mouth dropping open in shock.
"Mum?" he said, entirely confused.
Sure enough, coming towards him was his mum—short black hair, horse-faced, wearing a knitted jumper, clunky black shoes and black trousers.
"How dare you!" Petunia screeched. "Bring your abnormality into our house!"
"Mum?" Dudley took a hurried step back.
"After all your father and I did, you had to become one of ... them!" Petunia snarled. "We should have taken a firmer stance—beat it out of you if you had to. Your abnormality is nothing a good thrashing wouldn't have fixed!"
Suddenly, it morphed into Luna. "Thanks for taking me to the Yule Ball, Dudley—that's all I wanted from you. What? You really thinks someone like me could ever fall in love with a stupid lummox like you?"
It morphed into Vernon. "You continue to be a disappointment, boy! Last place! What did I always tell you? The world only remembers winners—last place is pathetic! You've brought shame on this family, boy!"
Now it was Professor McGonagall. "Worst student in the year! We should have expelled you years ago!"
Dudley had heard enough. "Riddikulus!" he shouted.
Nothing happened except the boggart morphing into Ron. "I think I'm beyond you now, Dud—seeker and dating the most popular girl in school, while you're stuck with Loony."
"Shut up!" Dudley snarled.
What had Lupin said—think on how to make it funny. How could he make his loved ones hurling insults at him funny. Give them high-pitched voices!"
"Riddikulus!" he cried, just as Vernon appeared once more.
"Come here, boy! It's time to give you the thrashing you deserve!"
Dudley laughed, loudly. His dad didn't sound half as intimidating now that he sounded like a mouse. The boggart halted, confused.
"Riddikulus!" Dudley said again, now thinking about making them shrink—that would be funny too.
The boggart became Dean Thomas. "I'm not surprised you're last. You're as thick as two short planks, Dud!" as he spoke, he shrank down into the size of a rat.
Dudley let out another burst of laughter and the boggart vanished in a cloud of smoke.
Dudley let out a long, drawn out breath of relief. That had been tough. He had always struggled with boggarts. He wiped his brow. He was hot and sweaty.
"The knife on the Dud goes up and down, up and down, up and down! Dudley Dursley is tightly bound! All day, long!"
Dudley swore, loudly. Couldn't he get a break.
He knew what he would see when he turned around, and sure enough, it was that blasted doll again.
"The little doll is mad mad mad, mad mad mad, mad mad mad, the knife she holds goes stab, stab stab, all day long!"
It skipped forward. This time, sure enough, it had a small knife in its tiny hand.
Dudley stared. Spells hadn't worked. Running hadn't worked. Even kicking it hadn't worked.
"The blood from his wounds goes drip drip drip, drip drip drip, drip drip drip. The little doll goes sip sip sip and drinks it all down!"
"Sod this!" Dudley growled.
"Wingardium leviosa!" he hadn't expected the spell to work, but much to his surprise, the doll rose into the air, squealing wildly and kicking its tiny legs around.
Dudley had a sudden idea, but he would have act quick. He lifted the doll up high and released it. As it fell, he thrust his wand forward "Depulso!" he shouted, casting the banishing charm which Professor Flitwick had taught them a few weeks ago.
Dudley's aim was good, the spell hit the doll as it fell, propelling it backwards through the air and over the hedges into the distance.
"Hope you get eaten by a Skrewt!" Dudley shouted after it.
Dudley really hoped the doll would stay gone. He hurried onwards and suddenly heard a scream. It was a girl. He froze, half-expecting to see something leap out at him but he was alone.
It had sounded like Fleur. What could have happened to her? He looked up, but no red sparks came. Had she fought off whatever had attacked her? Or had whatever it was gotten her? Was she too injured to fire off sparks?
Dudley waited, his heart pounding in his chest, but there were no more sounds. He moved cautiously on, but he couldn't help but think "one champion down..."
There was another surprise waiting for him around the next corner.
"Get him!" a shrill voice cried out of nowhere, and suddenly, Dudley found himself swarmed by a cloud of blue, winged creatures. He recognised them as Cornish Pixies—the same creature that Lockhart had released in his classroom to disasterous effect.
How had Lockhart stopped them? Dudley thought as he swatted at them. Then, he realized—Lockhart hadn't. They had flown around causing chaos.
"He has a wand! Get it!" one squealed.
"No you don't!" Dudley snarled. "Indendio!" the blast of flame set the pixie alight and it flew to the ground, rolling around to get rid of the flame.
"Stupefy! Stupefy! Impedimenta! Petrificus Totalus! Accio ... no, that's not a curse! Flippendo! Incacerous!" Dudley cast every spell he could think of and when he was finished, he was surrounded by a pile of immobilized pixie bodies—at least a dozen, if not more.
"Ow..." he muttered. He had a few bite marks on his hands and face and his robes were torn. "Devilish little gits!" he gave one a kick to satisfy his anger.
He could see what Lockhart had meant now when he called Cornish Pixies tricky. They had been a right pain, swarming him like that.
All Dudley wanted now was for the task to be over and done with so he could go home. He hurried down a passage, turned right and moved forward. Nothing attacked him for a minute or so, until ...
"Oranges and lemons, say the bells of St. Clement's." a voice sang.
"You owe me five farthings, Say the bells of St. Martin's,"
Dudley knew it was that wretched, evil little doll.
"When will you pay me? Say the bells at Old Bailey."
Dudley looked quickly around. He couldn't tell where the voice was coming from.
"When I grow rich, Say the bells at Shoreditch."
It seemed to be coming from everywhere at once.
"When will that be? Say the bells of Stepney."
Dudley looked back—there was nothing behind him.
"I do not know, Says the great bell at Bow."
Dudley looked in front of him—there was nothing there either.
"Here comes a candle to light you to bed,"
Dudley swore. He knew the next bit to this nursery rhyme.
"And here comes a chopper to chop off your head!"
Dudley looked up, his eyes widening and his heart sinking like a stone.
"Chip chop chip chop the champion is dead"
It was above him.
"Gah!" Dudley yelled as the doll flung itself at him, its knife raised high.
"Depulso!" Dudley shouted, but the banishing spell missed, flying over the doll's shoulder.
It landed on Dudley and swung its knife down. Dudley twisted and cried out in pain as he felt it stab into his shoulder. Reacting instinctively, he swung out his fist and caught the doll on the side of its head.
The knife tore loose, painfully, as the doll flew off of him and landed with a small thud a few yards away. Already it was getting back to its feet.
Dudley, despite the pain in his shoulder, wasted no time.
"Incarcerous!" he cried. Ropes shot out of the end of his wand, wrapping themselves around the doll tightly, binding it until it was gone from sight, covered in thick, notted ropes.
Dudley wasn't done there. "Incendio!" he shouted, setting fire to the pile of ropes and the doll.
Dudley hesitated. What else could he do. He suddenly remembered the bludgeoning hex that Dean Thomas had helped him practice.
Why not? He thought. He cast the spell, swinging his hand up and down like a hammer, bounding the bound, burning doll with magical energy. After seven or eight thuds, he stopped, breathing heavily. Sure, that was it. The doll was covered in ropes, set on fire and then pounded with a bludgeoning hex. There wasn't much more Dudley could think to do. The fires had gone out, leaving behind a charred pile of ropes. He couldn't see the doll. Hopefully it had burnt to a cinder. Dudley wasn't leaving anything to chance.
"Bombarda!" he shouted, casting the exploding charm at the pile of charred ropes. It exploded with enough force to leave behind a small crater.
Before he could relax, he heard footsteps behind him, he spun around, his wand raised, then lowered it when he saw it was Krum.
"Creepy doll," Dudley explained. Krum looked weird, his eyes were vacant. Suddenly, the Bulgarian seeker raised his wand and before Dudley could react he cried "Crucio!"
Dudley felt pain. He had been under the cruciatus curse before but this felt worse. While Nott's had felt like pins being driven into his entire body, this felt like six-inch long nails.
"What are you doing?" a voice called above Dudley's scream of pain. "Stupefy!"
The pain was gone and Dudley lay there, breathing heavily.
"Dud, are you ok?" it was Neville.
"I dunno ... I think," Dudley muttered. His whole body hurt as Neville helped him to his feet.
"Can you continued? Did you ... do you want me to get help?" Neville asked, anxiously.
Dudley shook his head. He had come too far to give up now.
"I can't believe this," Dudley said, "I thought he was ok." He glared at the unconcious form of Krum.
"Me too," Neville admitted. "Are you sure ..."
"I'm fine," Dudley said. "Thanks, Nev, you saved me there."
"No problem, listen ... did you hear Fleur earlier?" he asked.
Dudley's eyes widened. "You don't think ... Krum got her, do you?" he asked.
"I dunno, but it seems likely," Neville glared at Krum again. "Should we send up sharks? A Skrewt might get him if we leave him here."
"Good riddance," Dudley snarled. He walked over to the unconscious Krum and gave him a hard and satisfying kick in the ribs.
"Dud ..." Neville began.
"Come on, he cruciod me, the least I can do is give him a kick," Dudley protested, and gave him another. "There that's it."
He turned to leave, hesitated and then shot up a cloud of red sparks. "Can't have him die in here," Dudley muttered, finally.
Neville nodded in agreement, but he was still glaring at Krum.
"Just the two of us now," Neville said.
"Yeah ... yeah, I guess it is," said Dudley. He hesitated for a moment before offering Neville his hand. "May the best wizard win."
Dudley and Neville went their separate ways. It was guaranteed to be a Hogwarts winner now, at least. Dudley couldn't but feel annoyed at Neville. He seemed perfectly fine, like he had gotten through the maze without encountering anything, whereas Dudley had been chased by every monster possible. It was almost like he had been cursed.
"Ow!" he had walked smack bang into an invisible barrier of some sort. Dudley raised his hand and knocked. It felt like tapping on a sheet of glass, but there was nothing there. He stepped to the right and tapped again—his hand went through the space. Tentatively, he stepped forward and found his way unimpeded.
"What an absolute stupid trap!" Dudley snarled. It had seemingly been placed there just to be an annoyance.
He turned right and found himself in a long passageway. There was a floating eyeball, the size of a beachball, blocking his way. Dudley swore, suddenly hating everybody who was involved in the creation of this maze.
He turned around and went a different way. He had no idea what the eyeball was or what it would do, but he just knew it wouldn't be anything good. He suddenly found his way blocked by a creature he had only read about in books and one that Lockhart had mentioned during the first task—a Sphinx.
It had the body of an over-large lion: great clawed paws and a long yellowish tail ending in a brown tuft. Its head, however, was that of a woman. She turned her long, almond-shaped eyes upon Dudley as he approached.
"You are very near your goal. The quickest way is past me." It said.
"I'm going to have to answer a riddle, aren't I?" Dudley said, remember what Lockhart had said.
The Sphinx smiled. "Yes," it sounded pleased.
"Answer correctly, I will let you past. Don't answer, and you can walk away. Answer wrong and I attack. Are you ready?"
"Go on then," Dudley said. At least the Sphinx was something he knew about. Better that than the stupid floating eyeball which did god knows what.
The sphinx sat down upon her hind legs, in the very middle of the path, and recited:
"First think of the person who lives in disguise,
Who deals in secrets and tells naught but lies.
Next, tell me what's always the last thing to mend,
The middle of middle and end of the end?
And finally give me the sound often heard
During the search for a hard-to-find word.
Now string them together, and answer me this,
Which creature would you be unwilling to kiss?"
"Huh?" Dudley hadn't understood a word.
The Sphinx repeated her riddle.
Dudley wished Hermione or Luna was with him. This was more up their alley.
"So … the answer is something I wouldn't want to kiss?" Dudley asked. His first thought was Eloise Midgen, but he doubted that was the answer.
"And it's someone who lives in disguise …" Dudley said to himself, going through all of the dark creatures he knew about which disguised themselves. "And tells lies …" so it had to be something that could speak.
"Middle of middle end of end … no idea what that means," Dudley said. "And a sound often heard during the search for a hard-to-find word …"
He frowned. "So it's gotta be something that can speak?" he looked at the Sphinx for a hint, but it remained impassive. "And can disguise itself … and … ah ha!'
He pointed his hand at the Sphinx, suddenly feeling certain he had the right answer. "It goes in disguise, It can speak, I assume it tells lies and no way would I want to kiss it. It's a Chameleon Ghoul!"
"Wrong," the Sphinx hissed, sounding delighted. It leapt at him.
Dudley was nothing if not a talented spell caster. He raised his wand and fired off a quick conjunctivitis curse. The Sphynx howled with pain as its eyes started to fill with pus and it slashed out blindly. Dudley ducked down but still felt the claws nick his scalp. He fell backwards, the Sphinx's momentum carried it over his head where it fell on the ground.
Dudley scrambled to his feet, he could feel blood pouring into his eyes from the wound of his head, but he gritted his teeth against the pain for now. "Locomotor mortis!" he cast the leg-locker curse at the Sphinx just as it got to its feet. It front legs snapped together and it fell once more.
"Erm … Incarcerous!" Dudley decided to not try stunning it. Coils of rope shot out Dudley's wand, binding the great beast from head to toe. Finally, Dudley sank to his knees and mopped his brow—there was blood on his sleeve. Wincing he felt the wound, luckily it was a graze and didn't seem too bad.
Not for the first time, he found himself hating whoever had designed this maze. Luckily, it must be nearly over—the Sphinx had said the route it was guarding was the fastest way to the Triwizard Cup.
"One, two, three, four five—once I caught a boy alive!"
Dudley laughed.
'Six, seven, eight, nine, ten—I'm going to use my knife again!"
"The doll is back!" he said out loud and laughed once more. "I kicked it, set it on fire, whacked it with the bludgeoning hex and blew it up … and the doll is back!"
Sure enough, it skipped merrily into view from around a corner, looking none the worse for wear after its treatment other than it had an angry look on its face.
"Incarcerous!" Dudley felt glad he had learnt this spell. He had used it a lot. The ropes bound the doll tightly, leaving just its head exposed. If running didn't work and killing it didn't work, Dudley supposed the only thing for it was to take it with him where he could keep an eye on it.
He grabbed the end of the rope and pulled, dragging the doll behind him as he continued into the maze. It was singing now, it was busy struggling to throw the ropes off.
"What … are you?" Dudley growled, glaring back at the doll.
"I'm Magical Molly! A walking, talking friend to all the boys and girls! Let's play hide and seek!"
"Let's not," Dudley muttered and continued on his path. This part of the maze seemed to be devoid of life. He saw a pair of huge footprints leading one direction which could only come from a troll, so Dudley went the other.
He froze. There it was, on a plinth no more than 100 yards away—The Triwizard Cup!
Dudley started forward, still dragging the doll behind him when a dark figure leapt out ahead of him. It was Neville, he was sprinting hard. He was too far ahead, Dudley knew he could never catch up.
Then – Dudley saw something huge and hairy towering over the hedges. "Nev! On your left!" Dudley shouted.
Neville hurled himself to the side, avoiding the Acromantula, but he tripped and fell. The giant spider bore down on him, pincers glinting menacingly.
Dudley released his hold on the rope binding Magical Molly. "Stupefy!" Dudley shouted. The spell had no effect. It was hovering over Neville now, who had rolled out his back.
"Conjunctivitus!" Neville shouted. The spider squealed as the spell hit its eyes.
"Diffindo!" the severing charm that Dudley cast lopped off one of its legs.
"Incendio!" Neville fired a blast of fire at the spider which was being driven back now.
"Incendio!" Dudley saw that the fire spell was working best so he cast his own. He hurried to Neville's side and together they drove the great spider back into the darkness.
"I never want to do that again," Neville said, breathlessly. He lowered his wand.
"Same," said Dudley.
"You're bleeding," Neville said.
"Yeah, Sphinx … I answered wrong," said Dudley.
"I met that, too, I just didn't answer. Here, Hermione taught me a healing spell. Episkey!"
Dudley felt the cut on his head seal. It still hurt though.
"Episkey!" the cut on Dudley's shoulder partially healed.
"I think that's too deep for this spell," Neville said. "Still, it looks better."
"Cheers," Dudley said, and glanced at the trophy. "Go on, then—it's yours."
Neville took a step forward and stopped. "No, that spider would have got me if you hadn't told me."
"You just healed my wounds, that makes us even."
"You've clearly had a tougher time here than me, you deserve it …"
Dudley looked at the stubborn expression on Neville's face. "Together?" he suggested.
Neville looked thoughtful and grinned. "Together," he agreed. They shook hands and walked up to the cup.
"On three, right?" said Dudley. "One - two - three -"
He and Neville both grasped a handle.
Instantly, Dudley felt a jerk somewhere behind his navel. His feet had left the ground. He could not unclench the hand holding the Triwizard Cup; it was pulling him onward in a howl of wind and swirling color, Neville at his side.