A/N: Hello, people!

I don't own Harry Potter.

I have no beta.

ENJOY!

NOTE:

Sometimes I don't know if the things I envision can physically work, so I have to study.

Like with Hecate. I always check out 7 different sources when I study up on a subject, so that I can compare notes. Out of 7 sources, 5 = goddess, 1 = deity of the earth, and the last = titaness. Unfortunately, views and beliefs vary from person to person and culture to culture, so I went with the 5 sources that were in relative agreement and warned the readers about how I took liberties.

To anyone who studies runes, I apologize if I did this wrong. I find the basic information about the Elder Futhark runes to be sort of easy to understand, but when it gets into application and benefits and such, I'm useless.

I did not like Chemistry and I immediately forgot everything I had memorized once the testing was over. I most likely represented the whole situation incorrectly, and since Alchemy is not very well touched upon in the HP Universe, I had to study various websites that made no sense to me.

So just so you know, I tried my absolute best to make it sound like I knew what I was doing, but as both subjects were never expounded upon in the HP books, I honestly don't have anything to reference from and am just using my imagination. So for the sake of this fic, please pretend that what you read is true in this universe and pretend that magicals are capable of doing what Draco and Hermione do.


~.O.~


Her child was sitting in the hospital. Narcissa Malfoy had never been so worried in all of her life. Not when her sister had gone off on her first raid, not when her parents had gotten into a duel that nearly lost them their lives, and not even when her husband had been hit with a curse that usually castrated men. Thank Merlin that the caster was inept!

And then to learn that Harry Potter of all people had been the one to save her son's life, had left both she and her husband in complete astonishment.

Potter was the child of two of Dumbledore's supporters. He was a child of a Light family and had no doubt been reared in their beliefs. So it was shocking that the boy would go through so much trouble just to save somebody who no doubt believed in something so different than he did. It showed that she and Lucius did not really know Harry Potter as well as they thought they did.

Severus and Madam Pomfrey we're the ones who were in the Hospital Wing when Lucius and Narcissa had arrived. Mr. Potter was nowhere to be seen, but that did not mean that he had nothing to do with the situation. Either the boy had gone to fetch something for the matron or he had made a hasty retreat.

They shared a look with Severus, who seemed as if he had wanted to say something but not in front of the medi-witch.

"Mr. Potter is currently hard at work trying to isolate the different components that went into the poison that Draco consumed," said Severus. "Hellebore was one of them, the boy claimed."

"Have you notified the Dark Lord about this?" asked Lucius and Narcissa made her way over to the cot their son rested on.

"I contacted our Lord first."

Narcissa realised that she should feel offended that Severus sought the Dark Lord's opinion first, instead of the parents of the child who had been attacked, but she also knew that her offense would not be paid any heed. As this was a direct attack on the child of one of their Lord's personal Knights, it was imperative that the man be notified of any possible uprising. For all they knew, this was somebody's attempt at taking control away from the Dark Side.

"Are you're so certain that Mr. Potter will be able to discover what exactly was used on our son?" Lucius asked, cocking a disbelieving brow.

"That boy is many things, but an idiot he is not. I'll give him a few hours at the most. He seemed quite determined to discover what exactly happened. He and the Slytherins seem to have an idea in mind of who has done it because of some information that Potter came across, but they refused to reveal their hand so soon."

Lucius and Narcissa share a concerned look. If the Slytherins were willing to follow along with what Potter was saying, then anything it was would not be pleasant if so many were involved.

"He will have to alert the Dark Lord if it is something serious."

"Alert the Dark Lord of what?"

To their credit, no one in the room made a sound nor moved when they heard the Dark Lord's voice. They were to be commended for their impressive skill at keeping their emotions so well in control. That did not mean that Narcissa's heart was not pounding erratically and trying to escape from her chest though.

"Potter may have some vital information to impart upon you once he returns, my Lord," Severus responded calmly.

"And why can you not be the one to impart this so-called 'information' upon me, Severus?" the man asked, his crimson eyes sparking with danger.

Narcissa almost flinched at the sheer deadliness of his tone. When the Dark Lord was angered, nobody wanted to be in the same room with him. It was usually the worst kind of torture one could imagine.

Severus bowed his head in respect. "Potter seems to have cooked up some sort of plan with the Slytherins as they were the only students to not seem too terribly surprised at what had happened. He or one of them would be able to inform you."

"DuBous," a new voice said, prompting all of them to turn to the doors of the Hospital Wing. Harry Potter strode in, looking calm and collected in the face of the situation at hand. The boy barely spared the Dark Lord a passing glance - which was filled with so much annoyance, it was astonishing - and instead faced the Malfoys.

"My friend Luna told me that somebody was seeking to put an end to certain families. Mine included. She called him 'wood' and said that he had nefarious plans in mind. I'm inclined to believe that DuBois was the one she spoke of because he has already tried to assault me and even attacked my friend Hermione, simply for being my friend.

Draco is the one who came up with the plan to wait for him to do something and then allow some of it to unfold. Of course none of us ever expected that Draco would be the one to be attacked first. Still, the idea was for this information to reach the public's ears and for them to be told that Draco had not made it. We wanted to see just what DuBois' actions would be in regards to this information and go from there."

"That was incredibly foolish of you," Severus stated bluntly. "You should have immediately come to me or your parents or anyone's parents with this information. We are already paying Reginald a considerable amount of attention, but this now makes the situation dire."

Potter at least had the decency to look ashamed, but it did not seem that his shame has affected him all that much. "Draco did tell everyone to inform their parents, so if nobody said anything that's their own decision. I simply didn't want to burden my own parents."

"This is now a very serious situation," their Lord said, interrupting Severus before he could even retort. "Harry, you should have said something sooner, but at least we know now that he truly is a problem."

The boy shrugged.

"We will go along with your plan for the time being, but we will be ironing out some details later on," the Dark Lord said with finality.

It seemed, however, that Severus was not finished with the young Potter. He leveled the boy with a very intense glare and said, "Your mother will hear about this."

The answering groan was enough to put a little levity back into the situation.

Only once they had returned home, did both Narcissa and Lucius realise that the Dark Lord had referred to Potter by his given name.


~.O.~


Lily,

Your son seems determined to cause trouble this year and I don't know whether he is doing it deliberately or if he is a moron. As either answer is completely possible, I will leave it up to you to decide.

Your son learned that one Reginald DuBois(though rumor has it not for very much longer) is planning on killing several prominent heirs and is going to use the tournament as a smokescreen in order to do so. And instead of bringing this to the attention of any of the professors or even the available Knights, he and a good portion of the Slytherins decided to keep the information to themselves and handle it on their own.

Draco Malfoy was poisoned however, leaving Potter to inform the Dark Lord, as well as myself, Poppy, and Narcissa and Lucius, of what is happening.

So not only is DuBois planning something against your family and several others, but your son has known for a while and did nothing about it.

I trust that you will see to him in an efficient manner.

Severus.


Sev,

Oh, don't worry. He's not getting out of this one.

Lils.


~.O.~


On the twenty-fourth of January, one hundred and seventy-eight people were lined up inside the seventh floor corridor in Hogwarts. Eighty-nine people on either side of the corridor, to allow the Knights freedom of movement needed to handle whatever it was that they were tasked with doing.

The look on DuBois' face was enough to tell him that the man had been behind the poisoning of Malfoy. This meant that Harry and the Slytherins and basically anybody who was aware of the situation, were allowed to make the man's life a living hell. He had it in good authority from one Rigel Lestrange that the man was going to have a very trying third task ahead of him. Specifically one that catered to his greatest fear.

The Dark Lord was once again present, and was standing right in front of the double doors that would lead into the Room of Requirement. The man regarded the competitors cooly, his gaze unflinching and his stance strong and confident. He didn't seem the least bit interested in the proceedings despite the fact that they were all there for one reason. The reason he had personally created.

"Welcome," the man said, his voice nearly a whisper. "I feel the need to remind you all, that this is the task dealing with ingenuity and creativity in escaping or dissolving dangerous situations. You each will be confronted with a danger, and will each need to escape it through your own means.

Each of you will be given a room where your danger is located. Inside, there is only one exit, but if you use that exit before passing the task, then you have agreed to forfeit and will not be taking part in the rest of the competition. My Knights will be on standby should you need rescuing, though if you need to be rescued, you will be disqualified from competing any further."

Harry found that to be a small mercy. The fact that the man had even thought to offer assistance should someone need it, proved that he wasn't as heartless as some of Harry's parents' friends claimed that he was.

Voldemort gestured to Bellatrix, who stood to his left, and Snape, who stood to his right. "They both hold a bowl and each bowl has two hundred pieces of parchment inside. One has numbers and the other holds branches of magic. You each will come up and take one piece of parchment from each bowl. They will determine the room you will be placed in, and the branch of magic that must play a critical part in your task."

Harry could feel his worry mounting suddenly. That did not sound pleasant. And judging by the growing smirk on the Dark Lord's face, it wasn't going to be a walk in the forest.

"The branches of magic will include such things as Alchemy, Runes, and even Spell Creation. There are dozens more branches, but those are some of the most difficult branches that you might be faced with having to use."

Harry didn't know anything about Alchemy! Why would the Dark Lord expect someone to use such an old and archaic branch of magic? Unless… did Voldemort know Alchemy and expect his consort to know it as well? That was evil if it was true!

Bellatrix looked like she was barely able to contain her laughter she looked so delighted. Snape didn't seem to be affected at all by what was going on. A stoic statue as always.

"Come and collect your pieces," the Dark Lord ordered.

They took their turns, walking past the three magicals as they plucked their parchments from the bowls. Harry's heart was pounding rapidly. He really didn't want to have to do Alchemy, or anything like Necromancy. He didn't know if it was an option but considering how magically skilled the Dark Lord was, he wouldn't be shocked that the man might know it.

He was also skeptical of the dangers they would be faced with.

When Harry turned his parchments over, he found that he was in room seventy-seven, and that he would have to use Magical Creation. He breathed a very heavy sigh of relief, feeling the weight on his shoulders had just suddenly disappeared. He had some minor skill in Spell and Magical Creation.

Runes usually played a very prominent role in both and as Harry was taking Runes and was the son of a Runes Mistress - and he also had his mother's notes in his bag - he shouldn't struggle too much. It was as if this task was handed to him on a silver platter!

Voldemort began to speak once again, when all of them had their parchments. "Anyone who has the numbers thirty-seven through sixty-two will need to wear one of these suits," he said, gesturing to a group of various coloured outfits that were lined up beside him. "They are for your protection as you will be handling substances that can negatively affect you should you touch it or even breathe it in. I have personally charmed each suit to keep you relatively safe."

Harry stared at the suits in wonder. Those who weren't Muggleborn or who didn't grow up in the Muggle world, wouldn't know what they were. The fact that the Dark Lord was providing magically enhanced Hazmat Suits, was kind of terrifying. Just what was he expecting of some of the competitors?!

Harry had to snicker when Draco Malfoy ended up being one of the people who had to get into one of those ridiculous suits. And to make it worse, he was stuck choosing either yellow or red and both were the colours of the two Hogwarts Houses he didn't like. Malfoy chose the yellow one.

"I do so hope that you all took the advice we added to your notes from the last task," said Voldemort, his voice almost like a purr. "You will not be provided with any materials beyond three basic objects and a table."

A rumble through the crowd of people showed that indeed, more people had taken the advice this time around, though not all of them.

Hermione twitched, but overall, she gave no reaction.

He was really worried for her health. He might have to take her in for another check up when the task was over.

"You are not necessarily being timed, but the longer you take, the lower your regard falls. Manage your time wisely and most of all, do not get injured, or you will be eliminated."

The protests that came after that revelation didn't phase the ma in the slightest.

"May good fortune favour all of you," the Dark Lord finished with a demented grin, before disappearing with a very quiet 'pop'.


~.O.~


Room: 111

Competitor: Vitra LeFay

Branch of Magic: Blacke Magick

Vitra was a lively woman of thirty-four years and had remained on the single side because she hadn't felt that anyone within her notice had been of interest enough to pursue. However, she couldn't help but enter the Dark Lord's tournament because while she may not like him or even know him, he was still a powerful man with a lot of influence and he was obviously one of the best around.

If she wanted to keep the ancient line of the LeFays powerful and wanted to possibly incorporate the ability of Parseltongue into her children - because she would obviously have at least one to take over the LeFay Line - she would definitely try her very best.

In the previous tasks, she had found herself bored. They were easily taken care of with little to no challenge. As a former Ravenclaw, she was above others in terms of knowledge and unlike most Ravenclaws, she made certain that her practical knowledge was just as good as her theoretical knowledge.

This task was already looking to be much better than the last two, because they hadn't been warned of what to expect. Not much at least.

Her room was plain brown in colour, with stone walls, and a stone floor and ceiling. In the center of the room was a plain, brown table held up by three legs. On the table, was a knife, a hand fan, and a crystal ball. In the one corner, was a Two-Way Mirror.

She scoffed and faced what was supposed to be her 'danger'. It was a man who was standing against the wall farthest away from her. He was merely staring at her, his eyes unfocused. In his hand, was a long blade.

Vitra had to use Blacke Magick in order to pass this task. The Blacke Artes were of the most dangerous magicks. Very few things fell into the category itself, such as Soul Magick and Necromancy.

Vitra grinned maniacally, because this was something she could certainly do. They had basically ensured her another easy victory, but at least she could have fun while doing so.

The witch's wand began to glow a bright blue colour, and she proceeded to draw several Soul Runes in the air.

She had barely finished the last one, when the man charged her, his knife raised to strike.

So maybe this task would be a little more interesting than she had originally thought it would be. Vitra was extremely pleased with the outcome.


~.O.~


Room: 19

Competitor: Hermione Granger

Branch of Magic: Runes

Hermione Granger clutched her bag tightly between her fingers as she entered her room. She had loaded it with as many things as she could think of. The warning they had been given hadn't really specified what they would need, so she had decided to have several things just in case she needed them for some reason.

And the room she was in.

It was horrible.

There was only one door, meaning she would have only one exit. There was a Two-Way mirror on the ceiling, that would no doubt be keeping track of her progress. From the door, was a small, stone bridge that lead to a center, stone pillar.

As she stood in the very center, she calculated it to be three feet in diameter, which wasn't much space if truth must be told. Once she was perfectly centered, the stone bridge leading to the door, crumbled away, causing her to look over the edge and watched as the stone landed in a large pile of sand.

The witch didn't really understand what was so dangerous about sand unless it was quicksand, but as she was not standing in the sand itself, she could not determine just what was so bad about her part of the task.

Distantly, she could hear a rumble. It made the pillar beneath her feet vibrate intensely. She looked around for any sign of whatever was making the noise, but saw nothing. Nothing that gave away the location of what created such a sound.

Hermione's gaze trailed over the sand and she found herself losing whatever calm she had. There were three separate dunes beginning to form in the sand, growing higher and higher. From what she could tell, the sand was about ten feet below where she stood and those dunes were growing larger and larger by the second.

Hermione had to use Runes to pass this task and while she didn't know what exactly she had to face, she was diligent enough to know that dawdling was not smart.

Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a Rune Carver and proceeded to carve as many Runes as she could think of, linking the standard Runes taught at Hogwarts, with several Runes she'd learned from books. Almost each culture had their own set of Runes after all.

Hermione had become quite skilled at linking foreign Runes together and she had managed to pour her magic into the Rune Circle just in time. The dunes exploded in masses of black insects that chattered loudly and scattered from the tips, filling the small space around her pillar and making large, black waves.

The creatures rose up and slammed into her barrier, covering the ball of light made purely by her own magic, and cutting off Hermione's only view of the lone ball of light that hung in mid air.

She was stuck inside a barrier and was buried in bugs.

Gross.

The noises coming from them were making it extremely difficult for her to hear herself think. Hermione growled to herself and lifted her wand, casting Lumos Solem to brighten the area.

She sort of wished that she hadn't.

Scarabs. She was buried in a sea of Scarabs. Merlin, they were some of the worst magical insects around because they were so disgusting by their appearance and what they did. Since they were believed to guide spirits who had died, magicals also believed that they operated under a specific mindset.

Sort of a quid pro quo kind of belief. Magical Scarabs were carnivores, unlike the normal scarabs the Egyptians respected so highly. She was ninety percent positive that the Scarabs she was protecting herself from, were of the magical variety which suddenly made this task a lot harder than it originally appeared to be.

How was she going to use Runes to defeat Scarabs? And how to do so in a timely manner?

Hermione sighed and began to review all she had learned about the creatures.

They hated fire, but thrived in water. They were very intelligent and operated in a sort of hive mentality. They could multiple if cut in half. Basically, they were the most unpleasant insects in the world and Hermione felt ill at the thought of even being near one.

Hermione cast a silencing charm in order to allow herself what she needed in order to get into the mindset necessary to carve her Runes. With her carving tool in hand, Hermione proceeded to carve Kenaz and Eihwaz into the stone around her, right at the very edges of her barrier in an alternating pattern. Once she was surrounded on every side, she added a few extra Runes to add on the the protection and the strength the Runes would offer.

Placing her wand at her bag, she summoned a few clear crystals and placed one on each Rune, she then bent her head and murmured several words of ancient Aquitanian(Proto-Basque), which she had been studying very religiously for several years. Ever since she'd learned about Salazar Slytherin's roots.

Hermione had studied up on each ancient language all of the Founder's predominantly spoke. Hermione was the type to exhaust herself constantly in order to retain knowledge, and with her eidetic memory, she was at an advantage. Learning spell work in order languages would surely help her in the Dueling Task.

One by one, each of the Runes began to glow a different colour. She cast a barrier charm and an inflammable charm around herself just to be safe and when the final Rune lit up, the entire circle exploded in a rush of fire, tearing down her original runic barrier and burning hundreds of Scarabs in one blast.

With the flames raging too high and too close together, the Scarabs could not venture closer and instead, backed away from her. Lifting her wand, Hermione carefully crafted another Kenaz Rune, but this time, in mid air.

The magic powered Rune expanded toward the opposite wall, branding it with the mark. Hermione repeated this action until each wall was covered in a large Rune that was burning.

The Scarabs fled, retreating back into the large dunes they had come from, in order to escape the red flames that threatened their existence.

As if triggered, the stone bridge appeared once again and the door that had led her into the room, opened.

Plucking her bag up off the stone, Hermione left before anything else could happen.

She was alive. She had made it out alive, despite having been buried in the most terrifying creatures she had ever encountered.

And she'd done so in under an hour!

She was feeling much more confident now.


~.O.~


Room: 77

Competitor: Harry Potter

Branch of Magic: Magical Creation

When Harry stepped into his 'room' he had thought for a moment, that he had somehow stepped outside. But no. The ceiling was black and littered with star like decorations and the room was filled with hedges. Hedges that were used to make mazes.

Harry was going to have to traverse a large maze.

Behind him, the entrance - or in this case, now the exit - closed and disappeared. What annoyed him out of all of this, was the fact that he could not see just how large the maze was. The hedges touched the ceiling, meaning that he couldn't fly over or at least climb up to gauge the distance.

And he had to use Magical Creation in order to get through.

The silence around him was broken by a very loud wail. One that came from a creature. The noise was answered with rapid clicking sounds and loud thumping on the ground.

His heart sank. Not only did he have to invent something, but he had to do so without getting injured. This was to test his creativity and ingenuity at getting out of dangerous situations without getting hurt. So either the exit was on the other side of the maze, or it was in the center, which made this all the harder because he couldn't actually see where he was going.

Knowing Hermione, she would no doubt pass her task, which meant that he had to pass this as well. He couldn't just blast his way through otherwise he wouldn't be fulfilling the requirements for the task. So he had to meet the requirements in order to pass.

He didn't know where to go but forward, but how could Harry avoid running into whatever beast and creatures were lurking within the maze. Talking to them could probably help him, but he wasn't ready for people besides his mum and Luna, to know about his talent just yet. Lily had the self control necessary to keep secrets and Luna was very loyal and wouldn't dare dream of telling anyone else without Harry's express permission.

He had no problem with fighting, but he was not infallible. Dueling a human was one thing. Humans were limited in their speed and movement, but creatures varied depending on what creature they were. Fighting a creature without having to kill it or get injured would be hard enough.

He wished he could just have a map that would lead him through the maze without confrontation.

Wait a moment.

A map!

Harry was a bloody genius!

Glancing around, he found a table pushed against the wall by where the door once was. On it, were three objects. A candle, a collar, and a coil of rope. None of them would help him, even if he were to transfigure one of them.

But Transfiguration was not a permanent process. Changing the physical form of something was one thing, but the kind of Transfiguration required to change it permanently, was outside his scope of ability. Therefore, he had to use naturally made objects for his plan to work, lest the transfigured object change back and ruin the object he had created. 'Prevention is better than cure' and all that rubbish.

Pushing the offered objects aside, Harry fished through his bag, retrieving the roll of parchment he had brought, and unfurled it in order to place it on the old table. Harry then summoned the Black Quill - yes, he was in possession of one but all important Heirs and Heiresses were - and placed it to the parchment.

The rules said that he couldn't get injured and as they hadn't specified how the injury would come about, he could not chance it but cutting himself like he had originally intended to. Using the Black Quill a few times wouldn't actually hurt him. It was after repetitive use that he would retain injury.

Carefully, Harry drew the Rune he had in mind, the one his mother had taught him over the hols. This particular Rune worked in tandem with a charm she had created, and as he knew that he was somehow being watched by a Two-Way mirror, he could not speak aloud for fear of the spell being stolen.

Intent was a major factor in magic and not everything needed to be spoken in order for it to work, though words helped people envision their plans more efficiently.

Placing his hand over the Rune, Harry concentrated. He was basically making a spin off of the Marauder's Map. He knew how the original had been created and was applying the same principles here. However, this was simply a map of the room and not an entire building and the grounds it rested on. This would take maybe an hour to fully create, whereas the original map took nearly two years.

Since the Map wasn't a well known creation, he could totally get away with this and none would be the wiser.

Once the charm was set in place - magically connected to his magical signature only - Harry paced back to the hedges and placed his palm directly on the plant. It was indeed alive which made his life easier.

Every living thing had it's own magic. Harry was a magical with a core. He was not the same kind of magical that was burned alive at the Salem Witch Trials. They were magicals of the earth, who manipulated the inherent magic in the earth because they did not posses cores like Harry's people did. That was why there were so few of them. Wicca had fallen out of practice in recent years.

Harry had frequently studied their culture when he was growing up because they could do similar things, but weren't considered the same as he. It was a very interesting topic of choice and he had learned of their belief that every living thing was imbued with its own magic and spirit and was to be treated with respect.

Harry immediately tested the belief and found it to be mostly truthful. He didn't really know any kind of magick that would test if something had a spirit or not, so that half of the belief was still unproven, but the magic was definitely true!

It had to be, otherwise it wouldn't be possible for Mandrakes to exist.

Anyway, with his vague knowledge if Wiccan practises in mind, Harry connected his own magic to the magic from the hedge, and spread it out.

This was a special kind of magic that latched onto the magic of others and acted much like a homing beacon. Every living thing would react in conjunction to his own magic and as the parchment was connected to him by blood, the entire layout of the magic in the room would appear on the map.

Instead of him having to write out specifics - because this was a single room with nothing special inside save for the maze itself - he had a much easier time of creating the map.

He didn't care how long he had stood there, he was simply pleased when he finally reached the end of the maze and his magic could finally retreat.

Returning to the map, Harry found himself grinning. The entire parchment was covered in lines and blinking figures.

Mere feet inside the maze, there were three directions he could take. If he went forward he though encounter an Acromantula about fifty feet in. If he went left, he would find himself nearing a Sphinx after a bit of walking.

Going right was the safe way to go it seemed.

With a pleased hum, the teen packed his bag once more and cast a silencing charm, as well as a scent removal charm, and a hearing enhancement charm on himself, in order to make his life easier.

With a deep breath and feeling much more confident, Harry entered the maze.


~.O.~


Room: 178

Competitor: George Weasley

Branch of Magic: Transfiguration

George stared at the walls. The room was a bland, grey colour and had absolutely nothing inside but a table and three quills. He couldn't really see where the task part actually came into the situation, unless the quills would be charmed to stab him to death, in which case, he should probably burn them to be safe.

He burned them. George was a big believer in the whole, anything bad could happen at any moment and he was trying to prevent the bad from possibly happening. Removing obstacles and dangerous objects was the first step to preventing danger.

Fred would be so disappointed in his lack of adventure.

George spun around, noting that the door had turned red. It was green when he'd walked in there. Was the door the danger?

He looked back to the table, which was still standing in the middle of the room. It was pretty long. Wouldn't an end table have sufficed?

George planted his arse on the wood and kicked his legs back and forth, wondering just when the challenge would begin. He had to use Transfiguration but the only thing he could transfigure was the table. What would the table be able to do? What could he turn a table into? In fact, what was he supposed to be 'avoiding'?

He wondered how Fred from doing. So far they hadn't been separated in the tournament and George couldn't help but worry for his twin. Fred was his little brother by ten minutes. Of course he was going to worry for him!

Man, the room was kind of narrow. Why would they put such a large table in there if it took up so much bloody space?

George had a feeling that this room was made by Lestrange, because he doubted Snape would have made it this boring and pointless. Snape would have probably had a thousand poisons and only one safe potion and the person would have had to determine which was safe, or something like that.

Yeah, that was Snape's style.

George's feet kicked back a forth, his toes just touching the stone floor.

He gripped the table in shock when it suddenly moved! Looking over, George frowned in confusion. He was sure that the table was not touching the wall. Was the table moving?

He looked to the other side and promptly lost his composure. The other wall was almost pressed against the table, just like the opposite wall. The room wasn't narrow like he had thought it was, nor was table moving on its own! The walls were closing in!

He'd been sitting idly for several minutes when he could have been saving himself had he been paying attention! Merlin dammit, he was daft!

How did he use Transfiguration to get out of this?

The table was shoved over and was finally unable to move because it was now stuck between the walls. George slipped off, gauging about six feet of space now. How had he missed that?

Turning, he pointed his wand at the table and began a long series of complicated maneuvers, twisting and flicking his wand until the table gradually changed in colour, density, form, and even matter. What now rested there, was a large block of rock that was making grinding noises as the walls tried to push against it.

It gave some resistance, which allowed George to think of another plan.

Dumping his bag out onto the block, he frantically grabbed at ingredients.

Something to turn his hair blue, a noise maker, canary creams, and a love potion even. None of them would help!

George's hand landed on a bottle. It was an experimental powder that would go hand in hand with a spell he and Fred had created. They hadn't perfected it though and he usually didn't experiment unless his twin was there with him.

But the rock was beginning to cave under the pressure of the walls and George had less than four feet of space to himself now.

Shoving the rest of the stuff into his bag, he uncorked the powder and dumped it all over his head. The redhead then waved his wand and cast, "Nebulae."

All at once, his body dissolved from the feet up, tingling everywhere until there was no body left. Instead, what remained in place was a fog. George had turned himself into a vapour.

As the rock gave way and the walls closed in, George felt nothing. His form was not a solid and therefore could not be crushed. He'd changed his body completely, meaning he didn't have to breathe, because he had nothing to breathe with. He was just a mist.

He could feel the coolness of the walls, but felt not] pain from being stuck between them.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the walls began to move apart, allowing him to float freely in the brightening room now that the light was visible once more.

Checking himself, George focused his form into one area and was delighted when the door turned green again. Green usually meant good. He floated through the opening and was shocked to find himself directly leaving the Room of Requirement.

Now he needed to wait for Fred to come and help him.

At least he passed.

And he was not liking the look Lestrange was giving him.


~.O.~


Room: 47

Competitor: Draco Malfoy

Branch of Magic: Alchemy

If anything could be worse about having to put himself in danger, it was having to be in danger while wearing the most horrendous shade of yellow and the most unflattering piece of clothing he had ever seen! If Draco knew one thing, it was that Muggles lacked in basic dress sense and he was so offended on many levels at the moment!

He didn't know much about the suit itself, but what he had learned from his godfather, was that they were supposed to protect against something called radiation. Or rather, prevent harmful affects of it, since it was nearly impossible to prevent radiation or something.

It wasn't as heavy as it looked and he was certain that was because the Dark Lord had lightened it with a charm. Thank Merlin for small mercies!

Draco entered the room and noticed that a green barrier dropped the moment the door closed behind him. On the floor in the middle of the empty room, was a rat. A dead rat by the looks of it. And the rat was not the normal colour rats should be!

It looked yellow. As in bubotuber pus yellow, which was disgusting.

Draco had to use Alchemy to win his task. Draco hadn't attend any Alchemy classes at Hogwarts but he was going for a mastery in Potions and he knew about enough in order to attempt to use it. He did not think it was fair though! Not everyone took the offered class and it was as if the Dark Lord had deliberately given certain fields of magic because he knew no one would know them and they would therefore have to quit, which would effectively lower the number of contestants, true. But it was still unfair!

And the note he'd received had told him the room he'd be in as well as his objective.

Somehow, Draco had to do what Muggles considered was nearly impossible, which was cleanse the radiation from the rat completely. He had to somehow use Alchemy to filter out the pollutant without causing any contamination.

Draco barely knew about about radiation so how was he going to survive this?

Radiation was best filtered through lead or so he remembered, but would changing the rat into lead really work?

Alchemy was a mixture of Transfiguration, Potions, and what Severus called Chemistry. To change and purify the physical form of something in order to make it better than it was originally. Draco was sure he could turn charcoal into silver, but nothing so fancy as gold.

On the table against the far wall, was a Potions set. With a sigh, the blond made his way over in order to evaluate the ingredients given to him. The basics as far as he could see. And in order to make the potion with the transmutation properties necessary, he would have to use his bag, which thankfully, had been slipped over his head after he'd put wretched the suit on.

Sighing, the teen waved his wand and levitated all of the ingredients and vials he had brought with himself. Once the objects were spread out, he distanced himself and carefully conjured a slab of metal in order to work on. Lead to be precise.

Because he was smart, Draco did not even touch the rat. He simply waved his wand at it until it rested in the center of his work station. Casting a spell, he found that the rat was not only drenched in radiation, but several other ailments.

Draco shivered in disgust. He hated vermin and reptiles the most. Ironic as he was a Slytherin, but that didn't mean he couldn't hate them. And hate them with a passion, he did.

"Disgusting," he murmured in derision.

Reaching for the bottle of Ammonia, Draco added a drop to the rat's body, and watched as the radiation poisoned flesh bag reacted, flaring violently. It probably wouldn't have been so bad had the rat only been poisoned with radiation, but the rat was also infected with a Bubonic Plague like disease that most certainly could not leave the room.

That meant that everything Draco was using, would have to be burned in Fiendfyre immediately once finished.

Draco wasn't a bloody Healer! Did he look like Harry Potter? No! He knew the basics, like any good Pureblood would, but he was not looking to make Healing a part of his life!

Ammonia was a powerful substance on its own, and dangerous to touch or breathe in. Severus had been insistent that he learn how to use it because it was required in very few poisons and their cures.

Returning to the small cauldron he'd brought along on the journey, Draco placed it over the provided burner and added a vial of cold water that had remained in stasis to keep the temperature even. He then added several drops of Ammonia, and a few drops of vinegar. As the heat rose, he stirred clockwise four times and added a sprig of rosemary and a piece of purified salt that he'd personally retrieved from the Dead Sea.

A counterclockwise stir was thrown in, before he added a vial of iodine he'd gotten for Yule two years prior. Half a vial of geranium oil for good measure. The blond returned to the dead body while the potion began to take affect. He knew the basics. He would have to add several more properties to the 'potion' before he could test it on the body.

Perhaps he could try to turn the body into something else.

Maybe a bar of lead. Was it possible for rocks to be infected with radiation? Sev said something about blocking it off a little, but he wasn't sure how good that would be. And Draco may or may not have stopped listening when his godfather talked about Muggles and the potential dangers that came from their world.

He kind of wished he had bothered to listen.

He drenched the yellow form in water and tried to cast a freezing charm on it, only for the spell to melt away within seconds. Draco would probably have to feed it a cure for the plague first.

Would a bezoar even work?

It was moments like these that he was grateful for spells that directly placed potions as such into the stomach instead of people having to ingest them on their own, or without them having to touch the one that needed the potion itself.

Draco moved back to the table in order to grind up a bezoar and add a few drops of Dittany to it, hoping that attempt would help. The paste would them be slathered over the rat's body, while Draco shoved some Dittany in the mouth for good measure.

All of this would have been better had the damn Phoenix that sat in the Headmaster's office, allowed him to have some of its tears! Phoenix tears could heal anything. Any ailment, any disease. But Sev had been determined on leaving the creature alone because he was his own being or some tripe like that.

When the bird decided to give his tears, it would be willingly.

Draco waved his wand over the mortar and gathered up the paste he'd made, he them made sure to slather the entire rat in it, before levitating the rat and dropping half of the bottle of Dittany into its mouth.

"Fiendis!" the blond cast.

It was a very mild version of the Fiendfyre curse. His Aunt Bellatrix had developed it. Instead of burning the opponent on the outside with animal shaped flames, it was to slowly begin heating their body from the inside and the heat would build and build until the burning became unbearable and the body was forced into a fevered state, which would then give way after too much exposure, or make several of the organs fail at least. Either way, death was inevitable.

It was a Dark curse that Draco had been interested in learning. He was going to use extreme heat - though not too much as to start a fire - in order to burn the plague from the rat's body. The energy from the disease was feeding into the radiation and making it even worse.

So first thing first. Purify the plague.

The reason the magicals had managed to survive during the time of the Bubonic Plague was because of their magical ability. Potioneers flourished in that time period with their healing tonics and their advice on how to fight the plague.

Of course one of Draco's own ancestors had tried to use the plague as an excuse for his slaughtering of Muggles, but the fool got caught because the Muggles had resided near Hogwarts and the entire area had been free of the infection because of the magical protection Hogwarts offered to surrounding mountains and lands.

In fact, he was shocked that the infected rat could exist within the building at all. Or maybe the Room of Requirement was outside the scope of time and space in a sense? It would make sense. Some strange magic had gone into the creation of said room. Or maybe Hogwarts itself created the room due to being sentient.

When he deemed the body well enough, he ceased the curse and cast another diagnostic charm. The results were more pleasant than he expected them to be. He'd gotten rid of the fleas as well as most of the disease, leaving the radiation behind.

The glowing of the body had turned orange in wake of the heat, and was returning to a more light yellow, instead of the virulent and striking shade the body had originally been.

With a sigh, he levitated the body into the small cauldron and turned the heat down.

Draco placed one drop of Acromantula venom into the brew and waved his wand thrice over the rim. Another clockwise stir, followed by ten counterclockwise.

It was like winding up a gramophone, at least in his opinion. The stirring played a very vital part in the process of potion making. Clockwise cooled down and counterclockwise forced the heat to rise even higher.

This brew would soften the object of choice and hopefully make it more malleable. He would probably be able to stretch it in every direction once finished. Not that he was going to personally touch the rat unless he absolutely had to.

He'd placed geranium in it because it was an absorbent plant and the oil worked very well in absorbing the effects of illness. His mother had one placed it on his sunburn and it had helped drawn the heat and pain from the wound. Plants reacted to magical cores, which was why certain plants could be applied to a wizard's skin and have such amazing effects, whereas they did nothing for Muggles.

Since a sunburn was a type of radiation poisoning - on a very small scale - he hoped that his foresight would aid him.

Peering into the cauldron, the odd glass over his face shining in the glare of the building light, he could see bubbles forming in the brew. Not the normal bubbles that popped and made little noises. These looked incredibly hard and didn't seem like they would pop any time soon. Especially since they were banging against the side of the silver cauldron, the sounds reminiscent of metal striking metal.

The bubbles sank to the bottom as the body of the rat steadily rose the longer it remained in the cauldron. And the brew that he had delicately created, was drying away. Or perhaps it was evapourating?

Within moments, the mixture was completely gone, leaving a pure white mouse - it was a mouse, not a rat apparently - laying on top of a large collection of what appeared to be yellow stones. Draco levitated the creature out of the mess and placed it back on the lead table he'd created.

The yellow stones left behind were glowing. Distantly, he wondered if he had managed to suck out the radiation. Part of Alchemy was to extract something from the intended subject to either help purify the subject or the extract.

With a pleased nod, Draco focused his magic and transfigured the mouse into a small statue, conveniently made of lead.

He'd done it. He hadn't even know half of what he was doing, he'd simply decided to just throw some things together and hope for the best.

The door opened, revealing the Dark Lord and a few Knights, who were all covered in large, silvery domes of light.

"Well done, Mr. Malfoy," the Dark Lord said. "You will need to be decontaminated along with all of your belongings before you leave here."

And that was when Draco was drenched in water.


~.O.~


Room: 8

Competitor: Reginald DuBois

Branch of Magic: Healing

Reginald stiffly entered the room, feeling his heart rate increase. When he had been given the number eight for his room, he had thought that it was just a coincidence, but then he actually stepped foot in the room and almost lost his composure.

Acromantula as far as he could see. He'd been shoved in a room with hundreds of XXXXX creatures! And some of them were bigger than he was!

Thankfully, they were all caged, so it wasn't like he was in immediately danger. Still, he had to defeat hundreds of demonic spiders while using only Healing Magic! Whose idea was that? Probably Malfoy's.

His ire burned all the hotter because the young Malfoy was still alive and it seemed as if Skeeter had been too bloody hasty in her reporting of the incident. While he supported tearing down the fools, he hated it when she couldn't bother to get the right information. Just when his hopes had gone up, they were dashed.

He still had so much work to do now!

SNAP!

His head jerked to the side, finding that one of the Acromantula nearest him, had snapped a wooden plank off of its cage. And now the others were doing the same!

Loud, snapping sounds filled the room as Reginald began to panic, wondering just how he was going to stop them with only Healing. Healing was meant to help, not hurt. And the only thing he could think of, wasn't even possible to do on a massive scale. It would have to be one at a time.

Hundreds of spiders and he could only handle them one at a time.

Pointing his wand at the nearest Acromantula, Reginald proceeded to cast, trying to ignore the fact that his hand was violently shaking.

While it was hell, he did manage to learn that he could vanish a spider's exoskeleton. It was not a pleasant lesson.


~.O.~


Room: 134

Competitor: Fred Weasley

Branch of Magic: Spell Creation

When he and George had gone into this challenge, they had both thought that they would be able to use some of their products in order to pass the task, and then they were separated and that idea seemed to fly out the window along with Fred's independence.

Fred was a bit of a cuddler and liked to latch into his brother a lot. So being alone without his other half was basically like being abandoned. He couldn't find a way to make light of this situation. Not in the least.

The room was plain, like any other unused classroom in Hogwarts. A few desks and chairs here and there. The only think of interest, was the large box on the one table. It reminded him of one of his father's Muggle radios, but this had large red numbers and two red cylinders attached at the sides. A one hundred on the left and then a sixty on the right. The object gave a loud beep and the numbers began to move down.

A slow, even ticking filled the room.

Fred sidled closer in order to inspect the object further. There were blue and red wires and an odd looking button. He kind of wanted to push the button just to see what it would do, but at the same time, he was certain that he was locked in a room with a Muggle bomb and that pushing unknown buttons wasn't a smart idea.

Anyway, Fred had to create a spell to avoid the danger.

Honestly, this had to be one of the easiest tasks ever! He and George always spent their time creating things and it didn't take a genius - as they both weren't ones - to create a spell. At least, Fred didn't think so. It had always seemed so easy for he and his twin.

So it was either destroying the bomb, placing the bomb in a barrier, or vanishing it to some unknown region of space! He kind of wanted it to explode, but then he didn't know if touching it would make it explode early, so that idea wasn't plausible.

The barrier could work and definitely the time/space vanishing. Technically, the vanishing spell did the exact same thing, but Fred wouldn't be able to use that because he had to make his own spell. Still, it was moments like these that he was proud to be a Soul Twin. Because he and George were more in tune with their cores - two cores for only one soul that was split in half - they were able to see magic a lot easier.

It was a sort of Sight. Not like Luna, who could See everything. It was strictly a magical kind of thing, where they could - if they focused hard enough - see the interwoven webs of magic that made up spell work. It was a good thing that such a class was not taught at Hogwarts, because if the students knew just how much creation went into the smallest of levitation charms, they'd probably rebel.

Still, it was a fascinating subject and he and George had branched into it deeply. Especially since they were trying to fulfill Harry's requirement of fifty creations. Only four to go before they succeeded, and Fred could simply add to it right now!

This would be easy.


~.O.~


Voldemort nodded to himself, unable to withhold the urge. The competitors had done a marvelous job. One hundred and thirteen people left in the competition and the Dark Lord was pleased.

So many things had happened. So many things to take note of.

Harry Potter had created a map of the room without actually traveling to all the parts of the room. Hermione Granger used her knowledge of Runes to save herself. The Weasley twins had done well and he intended to learn about what exactly they had done to turn themselves into mist. Draco Malfoy was shaken up and annoyed, but he had definitely proven himself worthy to be in the tournament.

One Vitra LeFay had seemed to come from behind in this task, channeling Bellatrix in order to win.

And then there was DuBois. The man had been the very last to come out of his room and he looked worse for wear, despite having no injuries. The man had impressively vanished the exoskeletons of over one thousand Acromantula. His determination to win was impressive, but he was still an enemy of the Dark Lord and his agenda.

That meant torture. But who should Voldemort gift the man to? Bellatrix usually got to have her fun, but sometimes others deserved to express their creativity.

And when would be the perfect time to punish him?

On another note, Voldemort intended to pull Harry aside and inform him that he needed to do something about his friend Granger because she was swiftly on her way to becoming like Bellatrix if she did not pace herself and take a breather.

"Congratulations on passing your tasks. I confess myself impressed with the lot of you, for managing to excel in such amazing ways."

He paused, allowing those who cared, a moment to revel in their own ability and skill. He continued on. "The next task will take place on the twenty-eighth of February. The rest of the information that you need, will be found in the packets you received."


~.O.~


Rigel stared wide eyed as the Dark Lord pulled his crush aside and got really close to him. And Harry wasn't pushing the man away! In fact, he looked annoyed.

As Rigel got closer, he nearly choked on his own saliva. Harry had just called the Dark Lord a twat waffle! The two looked over to him, noticing that he was pressing a hand to his mouth. Harry smiled, but the Dark Lord glared.

Rigel was about to flee, but Harry thankfully detached himself from the man and joined the Ravenclaw. As they walked away, Harry tossed over his shoulder, "Thanks for the heads up!"

Rigel peaked behind his curls to see the Dark Lord's gaze firmly set on something. Following said line of vision, the boy eeped and looked away in embarrassment. The Dark Lord was flirting with Harry and was staring at his bum!

"Don't worry about him," Harry said. "He's just being a twat."

Rigel wasn't sure of what he should be mortified by, but he was still mortified.

This was the person he'd ended up being smitten with.


~.O.~


A/N: Another is done!

-The Malfoys might be aware of Voldemort's interest in Harry. Rigel definitely is!

-This was really fun to do.

-I love writing letters for Sev and Lils!

How was it? Let me know!

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