Hello, one and all, to the next chapter in HP: Path of Trials! Not much to say except...
Disclaimer: NO, absolutely NO, ownership of HP...save for OC's.
Now, here's...
Chapter 20: Showtime!
Happy Reading, everybody!
After the morning workout/self-training the following morning, Lorelei and Marcus made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. While they were discussing future adjustments to their training regimen at the Gryffindor Table, Marcus saw out of the corner of his eye Harry coming into the Great Hall, who made a straight beeline to Hermione sitting not too far away. Marcus was quite startled to see that Harry looked greatly distraught, as if he saw something extremely traumatizing. He then saw Harry waiting until finally dragging Hermione out of the Great Hall upon her finishing her breakfast, leaving Marcus greatly confused.
"What do you think that was about?" asked Lorelei, who was watching the scene unfold alongside Marcus.
"I don't know, but it can't be good if Harry's feeling unraveled," stated Marcus.
The two of them then proceeded to talk a walk along the lake, once again speculating what the First Task would involve, but not making any headway.
The weekend went by without any significant events but, come Monday morning, Marcus was on the verge of a meltdown. For the first time in his life, he wanted to flee from everything. Run away from Hogwarts, and find a location in which no one would be able to find him. But, as he made his way into the Great Hall that morning, he knew he couldn't do it. On top of regarding Hogwarts as his home away from home, he knew that he would hate himself for the rest of his life if he ran away from a challenge, great or small. He couldn't bring himself to be away from Harry, Hermione, Ron, or Lorelei, especially not Lorelei...
Somehow, knowing that he had friends that would stand by him, no matter what, was a great comfort to him and left him feeling calmer than he had been up to that point. He saw Harry sitting down the Gryffindor and wondered what was going through his mind at that moment...
He finished his bacon with difficulty (his throat wasn't working too well), and as he and Hermione got up, he saw Cedric Diggory leaving the Hufflepuff table.
Marcus still didn't know about the dragons...the only champion who didn't, if Harry was right in thinking that Maxime and Karkaroff would have told Fleur and Krum...
"Hermione, I'll see you in the greenhouses," Harry said, coming to his decision as he watched Cedric leaving the Hall. "Go on, I'll catch you up."
"Harry, you'll be late, the bell's about to ring -"
"I'll catch you up, okay?"
By the time Harry reached the bottom of the marble staircase, Cedric was at the top. He was with a load of sixth-year friends. Harry didn't want to talk to Cedric in front of them; they were among those who had been quoting Rita Skeeter's aritcle at him every time he went near them. He followed Cedric at a distance and saw that he was heading toward the Charms corridor. This gave Harry an idea. Pausing at a distance from them, he pulled out his wand, and took careful aim.
"Diffindo!"
Cedric's bag split. Parchment, quills, and books spilled out of it onto the floor. Several bottles of ink smashed.
"Don't bother," said Cedric in an exasperated voice as his friends bent down to help him. "Tell Flitwick I'm coming, go on..."
This was exactly what Harry had been hoping for. He slipped his wand back into his robes, waited until Cedric's friends had disappeared into the classroom, and hurried up the corridor, which was now empty of everyone but himself and Cedric.
"Hi," said Cedric, picking up a copy of A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration that was now splattered with ink. "My bag just split...brand-new and all..."
"Cedric," said Harry, "the first task is dragons."
"What?" said Cedric, looking up.
"Dragons," said Harry, speaking quickly, in case Professor Flitwick came out to see where Cedric had got to. "They've got four, one for each of the champions, and we've got to get past them."
Cedric stared at him. Harry same some of the panic he'd been feeling since Saturday night flickering in Cedric's gray eyes.
"Are you sure?" Cedric said in a hushed voice.
"Dead sure," said Harry. "I've seen them."
"But how did you find out? The champions are not supposed to know..."
"Never mind," said Harry quickly - he knew Hagrid would be in trouble if he told the truth. "But I'm not the only one who knows. Fleur and Krum will know by now - Maxime and Karkaroff both saw the dragons too."
Cedric straightened up, his arms full of inky quills, parchment, and books, his ripped bag dangling off his shoulder. He stared at Harry, and there was a puzzled, almost suspicious look in his eyes.
"Why are you telling me?" he asked.
Harry looked at him with disbelief before recovering and saying, "Look, I know that you're training with Marcus, and I know he won't let me tell him outright, but he needs to know."
"And what makes you think Marcus will let me tell him?" asked Cedric.
"Well, I mean...it's just fair, isn't it?" he said to Cedric. "We all know now...we're on an even footing, aren't we?"
Cedric was still looking at him in a slightly suspicious way when Harry heard a familiar clunking noise behind him. He turned around and saw Mad-Eye Moody emerging from a nearby classroom.
"Come with me, Potter," he growled. "Diggory, off you go."
Harry stared apprehensively at Moody. Had he overheard them?
"Er - Professor, I'm supposed to be in Herbology -"
"Never mind that, Potter. In my office, please..."
Harry followed him, wondering what was going to happen to him now...
Lorelei entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, hoping to use her limited free time to ask Professor Moody for help on her most recent homework assignment. However, he was about to approach the office door when she heard footsteps approaching.
"Crap!" she said out loud before she got her wand out and quickly cast the Disillusionment Charm on herself.
By the time the spell took full effect, she saw Professor Moody and Harry making their way to the very door she was in front of.
Startled, Lorelei hurried so that she was out of the way enough where she couldn't be noticed as the two of them walked by, opened the office door, and went inside.
Deciding the keep the Disillusionment Charm on her, she approached the door and pinned her right ear against it, curiosity getting the best of her...
"That was a very decent thing you just did, Potter," Moody said quietly.
Harry didn't know what to say; this wasn't the reaction he had expected at all.
"Sit down," said Moody, and Harry sat, looking around.
He had visited this office under two of its previous occupants. In Professor Lockhart's day, the walls had been plastered with beaming, winking pictures of Professor Lockhart himself. When Lupin had lived here,, you were more likely to come across a specimen of some fascinating new Dark creature he had procured for them to study in class. Now, however, the office was full of a number of exceptionally odd objects that Harry supposed Moody had used in the days when he had been an Auror.
On his desk stood what looked like a large, cracked, glass spinning top; Harry recognized it at once as a Sneakoscope, because he owned one himself, though it was much smaller than Moody's. In the corner on a small table stood an object that looked something like an extra-squiggly, golden television aerial. It was humming slightly. What appeared to be a mirror hung opposite Harry on the wall, but it was not reflecting the room. Shadowy figures were moving around inside it, none of them clearly in focus.
"Like my Dark Detectors, do you?" said Moody, who was watching Harry closely.
"What's that?" Harry asked, pointing at the squiggly golden aerial.
"Secrecy Sensor. Vibrates when it detects concealment and lies...no use here, of course, too much interference - students in every direction lying about why they haven't done their homework. Been humming ever since I got here. I had to disable my Sneakoscope because it wouldn't stop whistling. It's extra-sensitive, picks up stuff about a mile around. Of course, it could be picking up more than kid stuff," he added in a growl.
"And what's the mirror for?"
"Oh that's my Foe-Glass. See them out there, skulking around? I'm not really in trouble until I see the whites of their eyes. That's when I open my trunk."
He let out a short, harsh laugh,and pointed to the large trunk under the window. It had seven keyholes in a row. Harry wondered what was in there, until Moody's next question brought him sharply back to earth.
"So...found out about the dragons, have you?"
Harry hesitated. He'd been afraid of this - but he hadn't told Cedric, and he certainly wasn't going to tell Moody, that Hagrid had broken the rules.
"It's all right," said Moody, sitting down and stretching out his wooden leg with a groan. "Cheating's a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and always has been."
"I didn't cheat," said Harry sharply. "It was - a sort of accident that I found out."
Moody grinned. "I wasn't accusing you, laddie. I've been telling Dumbledore from the start, he can be as high-minded as he likes, but you can bet old Karkaroff and Maxime won't be. They'll have told their champions everything they can. They want to win. They want to beat Dumbledore. They'd like to prove he's only human."
Moody gave another harsh laugh, and his magical eye swiveled around so fast it made Harry feel queasy to watch it.
"So...got any ideas how you're going to get past your dragon yet?" said Moody.
"No," said Harry.
"Well, I'm not going to tell you,"said Moody gruffly. "I don't show favoritism, me. I'm just going to give you some good, general advice. And the first bit is - play to your strengths."
"I haven't got any," said Harry, before he could stop himself.
"Excuse me," growled Moody, "you've got strengths if I say you've got them. Think now. What are you best at?"
Harry tried to concentrate. What was he best at? Well, that was easy, really -
"Quidditch," he said dully, "and a fat lot of help -"
"That's right," said Moody, staring at him very hard, his magical eye barely moving at all. "You're a damn good flier from what I've heard."
"Yeah, but..." Harry stared at him. "I'm not allowed a broom, I've only got my wand -"
"My second piece of general advice," said Moody loudly, interrupting him, "is to use a nice, simple spell that will enable you to get what you need."
Harry looked at him blankly. What did he need?
"Come on, boy..." whispered Moody. "Put them together...it's not that difficult..."
And it clicked. He was best at flying. He needed to pass the dragon in the air. For that, he needed the Firebolt. And for his Firebolt, he needed -
Lorelei watched as the office door opened, Harry walking out of it with a blaze of determination written all over his face. Deciding she would ask Professor Moody some other time, she started to slowly and silently walk out of the classroom.
However, she wasn't able to take two steps when she heard, "I know you're there, Ms. Flamel. In my office, if you please."
Cursing herself, she lifted the Disillusionment Charm, opened the office door, entered it, and closed the door behind her, asking, "You could see me, Professor?"
"This eye here -" Professor Moody pointed to his magical eye, "can see through Invisibility Cloaks and Disillusioment Charms, Ms. Flamel. Comes in handy, but I wasn't aware of any third-years being able to perform the charm."
"Well, I'm the only one, you see," she said, feeling a slight blush creeping on her face. "It's - um - rather exclusive."
"I see," said Professor Moody, wearing a grin on his face, making him look that much more creepy. "Then, you mean to tell Marcus about the dragons, as well."
What was previously a slight blush turned full-on red face embarrassment as she stumbled, "W-w-well, it's not that I couldn't, it's just that Marcus is so, um, prideful."
"Stubborn is what I'd use, Ms. Flamel," said Professor Moody. "No doubt gets that from his mother, Brynn Williams. No, Ms. Flamel, you tell him, force it down his throat, if you have to. But, he won't need any help in terms of strategy."
Startled, her face returned to normal as she asked, "And what makes you so confident in saying that?"
"Because, if he's half of what his father is, he'll be able to think up of a winning strategy overnight," stated Professor Moody of what was no doubt utmost confidence. "His father is perhaps the most brilliant strategist and tactician in the Wizarding World. Haven't seen anyone else close to his talents. However, if he's anything like his mother..."
"What do you mean?" said Lorelei, her curiosity getting the better of her.
"Well, let's just say I'd be more worried about the dragon than the boy," said Moody in yet another twisted smile of his. "Now, run along, Ms. Flamel, and don't forget to ask Marcus for help on your assignment. It's due on Tuesday."
Lorelei then all but ran out of the office, eager to let Marcus know what he needed to know...
As eager as he was to get in one last workout/self-training session before the First Task tomorrow, he had to go through the rest of the day first, something that seemed quite daunting when all he wanted to do was prepare. After lunch, he went to Divination, where he had to endure half of the lesson of Professor Trelawney telling everyone that the position of Mars with relation to Saturn at that moment meant that people born in July were in great danger of sudden, violent deaths.
"Well, that's good," said Harry loudly, who clearly lost his temper, "just as long as it's not drawn-out."
"Yeah, no need to needlessly suffer," growled Marcus, who was quite sick of listening to Professor Trelawney himself.
Ron looked for a moment as though he was going to laugh; he certainly caught Marcus and Harry's eyes for the first time in days, but Marcus still felt too angry at Ron to really give it much mind. He spent the rest of the lesson thinking of training and what spells he could possibly try to master and/or refine before the task took place.
Finally, he got himself a light dinner, wolfing it down as quickly as he could before informing Lorelei and Cedric to meet him in the Room of Requirement immediately.
Marcus still beat Cedric and Lorelei to the Room of Requirement, so he waited for around five minutes before the two of them made their way into the room, ensuring no one else was behind them.
"Great, everyone's here now!" said Marcus in a cheerful voice, or rather as cheerful as he could sound being so nervous, "Now, I was thinking that the two of you would continue to do your intense physical workouts, while I take it easy. Have to be ready to go for the task and - and everything. Also, I was thinking we could spend more time tonight to - to..."
He paused to look at Cedric and Lorelei, both of which looked incredibly uneasy.
"Goodness, guys, we won't be doing anything out of the ordinary," said Marcus, who felt a little perturbed. "Now, for spells, I was thinking -"
"Dragons," Cedric said quite suddenly.
Marcus turned to look at him and said, "What?"
"Marcus, the first task is dragons," Cedric stated, looking quite determined.
Marcus' eyes narrowed, he felt full-on anger.
"Harry told you, didn't he?" said Marcus in a dangerous tone.
"Yes," said Cedric. "But, does that mean you knew, too?"
"Of course I didn't!" Marcus half-shouted. "But now it makes sense why Harry's been completely on edge since Saturday! He found out about the dragons that night...HAGRID SHOWED HIM THE DRAGONS!"
Marcus facepalmed himself and said, "And, if I had to take a guess, Madame Maxime accompanied him under the guise of a date to ensure she could inform Fleur of the dragons. I'm also willing to bet that Professor Karkaroff sneaked out there to get his champion, Krum, all caught up. I mean, two people of that size are not hard to miss. Which meant I was going to be the only one caught off guard tomorrow, right?"
"Um, well, that about sums that up," said Cedric.
Marcus took a few deep breaths before saying, "Harry told you to tell me about the dragons so that all the champions would be on the same playing field for the First Task. Admirable, but he has no concept of how a rivarly is supposed to work. I wonder if he's got his strategy yet?"
"He will now, thanks to Professor Moody," said Lorelei. Marcus quickly looked at Lorelei as she continued to say, "I overheard the two of them talking in his office. He didn't outright help him, but he may as well given Harry the keys to his strategy."
"Then I've got to formulate mine," said Marcus, who grabbed a nearby quill and parchment and started to furiously jot down personal notes, leaving Cedric and Lorelei looking at each other in confusion until, five minutes later, Marcus brought the parchment to Cedric and said, "All right, Cedric, look at it, let me know what you think."
Cedric looked over it, speaking out loud along the way.
"Well, most of this is pretty sound - wait, you've only been working on this one recently, I wouldn't use it right away, at the very least...Marcus, you can't possibly use this one!"
Marcus looked to where Cedric was pointing and said, "Well, I'm confident that I can use that spell well enough as a distraction."
"I don't think so, Marcus," said Cedric. "Granted, you've made the most progress out of all of us with that spell, but it's still not ready for actual application yet."
"I don't have a choice, Cedric," said Marcus, his eyes full of worry. "I'm not left with much of anything else."
"Still, try to avoid it, if you can," said Cedric, who looked concerned.
Lorelei, who was looking at the list, saw the note at the very bottom and shrieked, "Marcus, don't you dare use that tactic!"
Marcus looked at Lorelei and, knowing what she was referring to, said, "Lorelei, that strategy would only be in case of an emergency -"
"The ramifications of that strategy could get you in HUGE trouble!" shouted Lorelei. "Promise me that, unless your life is in danger, you will not use that strategy!"
"All right, all right, I promise," said Marcus, holding his hands up in surrender.
He then said, "Well, Cedric, Lorelei, get started on your physical workouts. I'm going to forego the physical workout tonight and double up on spell mastering and refinement."
Feeling more determined than he had been since being selected champion, Marcus summoned his wand, getting ready to start...
As he surveyed his surroundings, The Dark Prince was quite impressed.
"So, this is the place they'll host the First Task," he said, looking at the surrounding structure. "Not bad, not bad at all. But, for an event such as this, perhaps it will simply not be enough. Guess it needs a few finishing touches."
He raised his right hand, his open palm facing the wooden walls draped by fabric. Suddenly, section by section, the wooden walls morphed into metal walls and afterwards raised so that the top of the wall was twenty feet above the ground.
With a swipe of his right hand, the fabric was removed from the walls, gathering to a single point above him before disappearing from the air.
He then took his left hand, once again his open palm facing the wall, and moved his hand over the wall, each section of it getting burned and traced, making images of past tasks and tournament achievements over each square foot of the inner wall.
"A little history goes a long way," remarked the Dark Prince before looking to the ground and saying, "And now for the final touch..."
He then knelt to the ground, placing his right hand on the ground as well and, suddenly, dark energy permeated out onto the ground inside the wall like a wave, only stopping when the dark energy waves hit the metal wall surrounding.
"Marcus Williams, prepare yourself for battle," stated the Dark Prince as they dark energy waves stopped.
He then stood up, took one last look around, and smirked with satisfaction before disappearing on the spot...
Marcus had been so focused on getting his strategy for the First Task refined that most of his panic had left him and he was able to get a decent night sleep. However, it returned in full measure and more the following morning, leaving Marcus having to take calming breaths just to ensure he didn't get sent to the hopsital wing due to keeling over from panic. The atmosphere in the school was one of great tension and excitement. Lessons were to stop at midday, giving all the students time to get down to the dragons' enclosure - though of course, they didn't yet know what they would find there.
Marcus felt completely isolated from everyone else around him, even Lorelei, whether they were wishing him good luck or booing him. It was a state of nervousness so advanced, he was surprised that he was still able to function properly at all. He wouldn't be surprised if he froze up a bit when confronted with the dragon and started blasting everyone in sight, just so they wouldn't be able to see anything. Time was behaving in a more peculiar fashion than ever, rushing past in great dollops, so that one moment he seemed to be sitting down in his first lesson, History of Magic, and the next, walking into lunch...and then (where had the morning gone? the last of the dragon-free hours?), Professor McGonagall was hurrying over to him in the Great Hall. Lots of people were watching.
"Williams, the champions have to come down onto the grounds now...You have to get ready for your first task."
"What about Harry, Professor?"
"I'll be escorting Mr. Potter after I've escorted you, Mr. Williams. Professor Dumbledore prefers to keep the two of you seperate until the first task is done."
"Fair enough," said Marcus in a voice most unlike his own as he got up and left the Great Hall with Professor McGonagall.
As they were walking to the enclosure, Marcus noticed that she, too, didn't seem herself; in fact, she looked nearly as anxious as Hermione did when she wished him good luck the night before. As she walked him down the stone steps and out into the cold November afternoon, she put her hand on his right shoulder.
"Now, don't panic," she said, "just keep a cool head...We've got wizards standing by to control the situation if it gets out of hand...The main thing is just to do your best, and nobody will think any worse of you...Are you all right?"
"I will be once this is done," Marcus heard himself say.
She was leading him toward the place where the dragons must've been located, around the edge of the forest, but when they approached it, Marcus saw that an enormous tent had been erected, its entrance facing them, no doubt screening the dragons from view.
"You're to go in here with the other champions," said Professor McGonagall, in a rather shaky sort of voice, "and wait for your turn, Williams. Mr. Bagman is in there...he'll be telling you the - the procedure...Good luck."
"Thanks," said Marcus in a hollow sort of voice as she left him at the entrance of the tent, turning around to get Harry, no doubt. Marcus then proceeded to enter the tent.
Fleur was sitting in a corner on a low wooden stool. She didn't look nearly as composed as usual, but rather pale and clammy. Viktor Krum looked even surlier than usual, but Marcus supposed that was his way of dealing with stress. Neither champion really recognized him coming into the tent, but Marcus preferred it that way. He wanted to get psyched up for the task ahead.
He decided to lean up against a post, going over his strategy in his head, imagining it unfold before the crowd and in front of the dragon as to try and see what he could possibly do and in what manner it needed to be executed in.
Mr. Bagman came in a little bit after Marcus did, acknowledging the champions with a jovial greeting, one that Marcus did not reciprocate, in case it broke his concentration.
Which eventually did when he heard Mr. Bagman happily say, "Harry! Good-o! Come in, come in, make yourself at home!"
Marcus, whose eyes were shut in concentration, opened them to see Harry at the entrance of their gathering point, Marcus doing his best to smile in encouragment, which didn't really work, as his face muscles seemed a little too tight, like they forgotten how to smile.
"Well, now we're all here - time to fill you in!" said Bagman brightly. "When the audience has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag" - he held up a small sack of purple silk and shook it at them - "from which you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different - er - varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else too...ah yes...your task is to collect the golden egg!"
Marcus looked around. Fleur and Viktor hadn't reacted at all, perhaps feeling that if they opened their mouths, they would get sick. Harry certainly looked the same...
And in no time at all, hundreds upon hundreds of pairs of feet could be heard passing the tent, their owners talking excitedly, laughing, joking...Marcus felt as separate from the crowd as he did in the castle, like they were a different species. And then - it seemed like an instant to Marcus - Bagman was opening the neck of the purple silk sack.
"Ladies first," he said, offering it to Fleur.
She put a shaking hand inside the bag and drew out a tiny, perfect model of a dragon - a Welsh Green. It had the number one around its neck. Marcus knew, by the fact that Fleur showed no sign of surprise, but rather a determined resignation, that Marcus surmised correctly: Madame Maxime had told here what was coming.
The same held true for Krum. He pulled out a scarlet Chinese Fireball. It had the number two around its neck. He didn't even blink, just sat back down and stared at the ground.
Harry put his hands in the bag, and out came what Marcus recognized, much to his dismay, the black Hungarian Horntail, to which the white-haired wizard felt no envy for. The small dragon had the number three hanging around its neck, stretching its wings as Harry was looking down at it, and bared its minuscule fangs.
"Well, guess I'm going last," thought Marcus grimly as he stuck his hand in the purple bag, aware that all eyes were on him.
He grasped something at the bottom of the bag, pulled it on, and thought for sure someone was playing with him.
The only thing that he was able to pull out of the bag was a little sign on string that had the number four on it. No dragon, not even any indication that a dragon even had it around its neck.
He looked at Mr. Bagman with a steely death stare as the man stumbled, "Ah...yes...well, there you are! You have each pulled out the dragon you will face, and the numbers refer to the order in which you are to take on the dragons, do you see? Now, I'm going to have to leave you in a moment, because I'm commentating. Ms. Delacour, you're first, just go out into the enclosure when you hear a whistle, all right?"
"Hang on!" Marcus half-shouted, dangling his small sign. "Am I to think I'll be taking on an invisible dragon?!"
"A mystery dragon, young Mr. Williams," said Mr. Bagman a little too quickly. "Just to add a bit of a challenge, I assure you." Mr. Bagman then turned to Harry and said, "Now...Harry...could I have a quick word? Outside?"
As Harry followed Mr. Bagman outside, Marcus went to pacing the champions' area, fuming at the circumstances. How was it that, while the other champions got to know the dragons they were facing, he was the one who was still left in the dark?
"It doesn't matter," thought Marcus. "The strategy remains the same. Execute the strategy, and that golden egg is as good as mine."
Suddenly, Marcus heard the roar of the crowd, which he could only mean that Fleur had entered the enclosure and was now face-to-face with the living counterpart of her model...
It was worse than Marcus imagined it would be, sitting there and listening. The crowd screamed...yelled...gasped like a single many-headed entity, as Fleur did whatever she was doing to get past the Common Welsh Green. Krum was still staring at the ground. Harry looked as if he was about to vomit where he was standing, to which Marcus didn't blame him in the slightest. And hearing Bagman's commentary made everything much, much worse...Horrible pictures started to form in his mind as he heard: "Oh I'm not sure that was wise! Oh...nearly! Careful now...good lord, I thought she'd had it then!"
Ten minutes later, Marcus heard the crowd erupt into applause once more...Fleur must have been successful, of this there was no doubt. Clapping was ringing through the air before silence captured the noise.
"Very good!" Bagman was shouting. "And now the marks from the judges!"
But the judges didn't say them out loud, which Marcus wished that they did. Perhaps they didn't want the other competitors getting an unfair advantage, he reasoned.
Shortly afterwards, the shrill of the whistle pierced the air, signaling Krum to make his way into the enclosure, leaving Marcus and Harry in the champions' tent.
Marcus felt as if his whole body was vibrating, so bad his nerves were getting. Not even going down into the Chamber of Secrets brought about this much nervousness. His heart was beating like a drum, his fingers tingling so badly he had to keep them moving just to make sure they were still on his hands and, as much as he was aware of his own body, he felt greatly separated from it, like he was having an out-of-body experience.
Eventually, he was able to barely bring himself back to earth as he heard Bagman yell, "Very daring!" as the Chinese Fireball emit a horrible, roaring shriek, while the crowd drew its collective breath. "That's some nerve he's showing - and - yes, he's got the egg!"
Applause shattered the wintery air like breathing glass; Krum had finished - Harry's turn was next, and he would follow shortly after.
Unable to take it anymore, Marcus rushed to a closed off portion of the champions' area, clutching his head in fear. He was losing his grip, his calm and his mind. He didn't know what to do..what if things got out of his control and he was merely looking at the way he was going to die?
Marcus was freaking out so badly that it startled him to hear a familiar voice say, "Master?"
Marcus gave a small yelp as he looked up and saw that it was -
"Blinky?" exasperated Marcus. "What the heck are you doing here?"
"I was told that Master would be needing this," he simply said, lifting what Marcus realized was a familiar box up to him.
Hands greatly trembling, Marcus lifted the lid of the box and gasped upon seeing -
"My battle suit!" Marcus exclaimed as he was looking down upon his all-white outfit.
Marcus remembered this quite well, as it was the battle suit Mr. Xerk from Omnifabrics in Hogsmeade made for him specifically and given to him as a gift from Lorelei last year for Christmas, but he hadn't touched it since that time. He hadn't thought of a need for it...until now.
"Now would be a great time to wear this," thought Marcus as he said, "T-T-Thank you, Blinky. You may return to your duties."
He hurried to strip the clothes he was wearing and looked to grab his undershirt, which upon grabbing it, shined white and sparkled with a shine unequaled by any fabric, the same way it did when he was getting measured for the outfit in Mr. Xerk's store.
He put it on, which was a perfect fit, and instantly, somehow, all of his fears and doubts washed away, replaced by confidence and determination.
As he calmly put on the rest of his all-white battle suit, he thought, "Harry, good luck out there. Show Hogwarts what you can do."
As he saw Marcus rushing to a closed off portion of the tent, Harry stood up, noticing dimly that his legs seemed to be made of marshmellow. He waited. And then he heard the whistle blow. He walked out through the entrance of the tent, the panic rising into a crescendo inside him. And now he was walking past the trees, through a gap in the enclosure's metal walls, coming down behind him.
He saw everything in front of him as though it was a very highly colored dream. There were hundreds and hundreds of faces staring down at him from stands that had been magicked there since he'd last stood on this spot. And there was the Horntail, at the other end of the enclosure, crouched low over her clutch of eggs, her wings half-furled, her evil, yellow eyes upon him, a monstrous, scaly, black lizard, thrashing her spiked tail, leaving yard-long gouge marks in the hard ground. The crowd was making a great deal of noise, but whether friendly or not, Harry didn't know or care. It was time to do what he had to do...to focus his mind, entirely and absolutely, upon the thing that was his only chance...
He raised his wand.
"Accio Firebolt!" he shouted.
Harry waited, every fiber of him hoping, praying...If it hadn't worked...if it wasn't coming...He seemed to be looking at everything around him through some sort of shimmering, transparent barrier, like a heat haze, which made the enclosure and the hundreds of faces around him swim strangely...
And then he heard it, speeding through the air behind him; he turned and saw his Firebolt hurtling toward him around the edge of the woods, soaring into the enclosure, and stopping dead in midair beside him, waiting for him to mount. The crowd was making even more noise...Bagman was shouting something...but Harry's ear were not working properly anymore...listening wasn't important...
He swung his leg over the broom and kicked off from the ground. And a second later, something miraculous happened...
As he soared upward, as the wind rushed through his hair, as the crowd's faces became mere flesh-colored pinpricks below, and the Horntail shrank to the size of a dog, he realized that he had left not only the ground behind, but also his fear...He was back where he belonged...
This was just another Quidditch match, that was all...just another Quidditch match, and that Horntail was just another ugly opposing team...
He looked down at the clutch of eggs and spotted the gold one, gleaming against its cement-colored fellows, residing safely between the dragon's front legs. "Okay," Harry told himself," diversionary tactics...let's go..."
He dived. The Horntail's head followed him; he knew what it was going to do and pulled out of the dive just in time; a jet of fire had been released exactly where he would have been had he not swerved away...but Harry didn't care...that was no more than dodging a Bludger...
"Great Scott, he can fly!" yelled Bagman as the crowd shrieked and gasped. "Are you watching this, Mr. Krum?"
Harry soared higher in a circle; the Horntail was still following his progress; its head revolving on its long neck - if he kept this up, it would be nicely dizzy - but better not push it too long, or it would be breathing fire again -
Harry plummeted just as the Horntail opened its mouth, but this time he was less lucky - he missed the flames, but the tail came whipping up to meet him instead, and as he swerved to the left, one of the long spikes grazed his shoulder, ripping his robes -
He could feel its stinging, he could hear screaming and groans from the crowd, but the cut didn't seem too deep...Now he zoomed around the back of the Horntail, and a possibility occured to him...
The Horntail didn't seem to want to take off, she was too protective of her eggs. Though she writhed and twisted, furling and unfurling her wings and keeping those fearsome yellow eyes on Harry, she was afraid to move too far from them...but he had to persuade her to do it, or he'd never get near them...The trick was to do it carefully, gradually...
He began to fly, first this way, then the other, not near enough to make her breathe fire to stave him off, but still posing a sufficient threat to ensure she kept her eyes on him. Her head swayed this way and that, watching him out of those vertical pupils, her fangs bared...
He flew higher. The Horntail's head rose with him, her neck now stretched to its fullest extent, still swaying, like a snake before its charmer...
Harry rose a few more feet, and she let a roar of exasperation. He was like a fly to her, a fly she was longing to swat; her tail thrashed again, but he was too high to reach now...She shot fire into the air, which he dodged...Her jaws opened wide...
"Come on," Harry hissed, swerving tantalizingly above her, "come on, come and get me...up you get now..."
And then she reared, spreading her great, black, leathery wings at last, as wide as those of a small airplane - and Harry dived. Before the dragon knew what he had done, or where he had disappeared to, he was speeding toward the ground as fast as he could go, toward the eggs now unprotected by her clawed front leg - he had taken his hand off the Firebolt - he had seized the golden egg -
And with a huge spurt of speed, he was off, he was soaring out over the stands, the heavy egg safely under his uninjured arm, and it was as though somebody had just turned the volume back up - for the first time, he became properly aware of the noise of the crowd, which was screaming and applauding as loudly as the All-Stars supporters at the World Cup -
"Look at that!" Bagman was yelling. "Will you look at that! Our youngest champion is quickest to get his egg so far! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr. Potter!"
Harry saw the dragon keepers rushing foward to subdue the Horntail, and, over at the entrance to the enclosure, Professor McGonagall, Professor Moody, and Hagrid hurrying to meet him, all of them waving him toward them, their smiles evident even from this distance. He flew back over the stands, the noise of the crowd pounding his eardrums, and came in smoothly to land, his heart lighter than it had been in weeks...He had got through the first task, he had survived...
"That was excellent, Potter!" cried Professor McGonagall as he got off the Firebolt - which from her was extravagant praise. He noticed that her hand shook as she pointed at his shoulder. "You'll need to see Madam Pomfrey before the judges give out your score...Over there, she's had to take care of Ms. Delacour already..."
"Yeh did it, Harry!" said Hagrid hoarsely. "Yeh did it! An' agains' the Horntail an' all, an' yeh know Charlie said that was the wors' -"
"Thanks, Hagrid," said Harry loudly, so that Hagrid wouldn't blunder on and reveal that he had shown Harry the dragons beforehand.
Professor Moody looked very pleased too; his magical eye was dancing in its socket.
"Nice and easy does the trick, Potter," he growled.
"Right then, Potter, the first aid tent, please..." said Professor McGonagall.
Harry walked out of the enclosure, still panting, and saw Madame Pomfrey standing at the mouth of a second tent, looking worried.
"Dragons!" she said, in a disgusted tone, pulling Harry inside. The tent was divided into cubicles; he could make out Fleur's shadow through the canvas, but Fleur didn't seem to be badly injured; she was sitting up straight, at least. Madam Pomfrey examined Harry's shoulder, talking furiously all the while. "Last year dementors, this year dragons, what are they going to bring into this school next? You're very lucky...this is quite shallow...it'll need cleaning before I heal it up, though..."
She cleaned the cut with a dab of some purple liquid that smoked and stung, but then poked his shoulder with her wand, and he felt it heal instantly.
"Now, just sit quietly for a minute - sit! And then you can go and get your score."
She bustled out of the tent and he heard her go next door and say, "All right, Ms. Delacour, you're healed up, so you're free to go and sit with Mr. Krum."
Harry didn't want to sit still: He was too full of adrenaline. He got to his feet, wanting to see what was going on outside, but before he'd reached the mouth of the tent, two people had come darting inside - Hermione, followed closely by Ron.
"Harry, you were brilliant!" Hermione said squeakily. There were fingernail marks on her face where she had been clutching it in fear. "You were amazing! You really were!"
But Harry was looking at Ron, who was very white and staring at Harry as though he were a ghost.
"Harry," he said, very seriously, "whoever put your name and Marcus' in that goblet - I - I reckon they're trying to do you two in!"
It was as though the last few weeks had never happened - as though Harry were meeting Ron for the first time, right after he and Marcus were made champions.
"Caught on, have you?" said Harry coldly. "Took you long enough."
Hermione stood nervously between them, looking from one to the other. Ron opened his mouth uncertainly. Harry knew Ron was about to apologize and suddenly he found he didn't need to hear it.
"It's okay," he said, before Ron could get the words out. "Forget it."
"No," said Ron, "I shouldn't've -"
"Forget it," Hary said.
Ron grinned nervously at him, and Harry grinned back.
Hermione burst into tears.
"There's nothing to cry about!" Harry told her, bewildered.
"You two are so stupid!" she shouted, stamping her foot on the ground, tears splashing down her front. Then, before either of them could stop her, she had given both of them a hug and dashed away, now positively howling.
"Barking mad," said Ron, shaking his head. "Harry, c'mon, they'll be putting up your scores..."
Picking up the golden egg and his Firebolt, feeling more elated than he would have believed possible an hour ago, Harry ducked out of the tent, Ron by his side, talking fast.
"You were the best so far, you know, no competition. That Fleur girl tried this sort of charm, I think she was trying to put it into a trance - well, that kind of worked too, it went all sleepy, but then it snorted, and this great jet of flame shot out, and her skirt caught fire - she put it out with a bit of water out of her wand. Krum - blimey, Harry, you won't believe this, but he didn't even think of flying! He was probably the best after you, though, at least so far. Hit it with some sort of spell right in the eye. Only thing is, it went trampling around in agony and squashed half the real eggs - they took marks off for that, he wasn't supposed to do any damage to them."
Ron drew breath as he and Harry reached the edge of the enclosure. Now that the Horntail had been taken away, Harry could see where the five judges were sitting - right at the other end, in raised seats draped in gold.
"It's marks out of ten from each one," Ron said, and Harry, squinting up the field, saw the first judge - Madame Maxime - raise her wand in the air. What looked like a long silver ribbon shot out of it, which twisted itself into a large figure eight.
"Not bad!" said Ron as the crowd applauded. "I suppose she took marks off for your shoulder..."
Mr. Crouch came next. He shot a number nine into the air.
"Looking good!" Ron yelled, thumping Harry on the back.
Next, Dumbledore. He too put up a nine. The crowd was cheering harder than ever.
Ludo Bagman - ten.
"Ten?" said Harry in disbelief. "But...I got hurt...What's he playing at?"
"Harry, don't complain!" Ron yelled excitedly.
And now Karkaroff raised his wand. He paused for a moment, and then a number shot out of his wand too - four.
"What?" Ron bellowed furiously. "Four? You lousy, biased scumbag, you gave Krum ten!"
But Harry didn't care, he wouldn't have cared if Karkaroff had given him zero; Ron's indignation on his behalf was worth about a hundred points to him. He didn't tell Ron this, of course, but his heart felt lighter than air as he turned to look at the crowd. And it wasn't just Ron...those weren't only Gryffindor cheering in the crowd. When it had come to it, when they had seen what he was facing, most of the school had been on his side as well as Marcus'...He didn't care about the Slytherins, he could stand whatever they threw at him now.
"You're tied in first place, Harry! You and Krum!" said Charlie Weasley, hurrying to meet them as they were looking to get out of the enclosure's arena. "Listen, I've got to hurry, we're setting up for Marcus' run at his dragon. But that was unbelievable! Oh yeah - and they told me to tell you you've got to hang around after the first task is completed...Bagman wants a word, back in the champions' tent."
As they saw Charlie hurrying to a large entrance big enough to fit a dragon, both Harry and Ron looked to find that Hermione and Lorelei were waving at them, indicating that they can sit down next to them.
"Blimey, Harry," said Ron as he and Harry were walking over to them. "What do you think Marcus'll have to go up against?"
"Don't know," said Harry as a couple of dragon keepers raised the two up to the seats using their wands. "Marcus just pulled the number four out of the purple silk bag."
"What?!" said Ron. "So Marcus has no idea what kind of dragon he'll be going up against?"
"I'm not worried," said Harry, though he felt otherwise. "Marcus will come out victorious...he always does..."
Once Harry and Ron took their seats next to Hermione and Lorelei, Harry noticed that not only could he see the judges and the other two champions, Fleur and Viktor, he could see -
"Mr. and Mrs. Williams!" said Harry, looking behind him.
Sitting directly behind him was Michael and Brynn Willliams, who both had pleasant looks on their faces.
"Congratulations on getting past the first task, Harry!" said Brynn excitedly.
"That was a brilliant strategy, Harry," said Michael. "Way to play to your strengths."
"Thank you, Mr. Williams," said Harry, not sure of what else to say.
Harry looked at the arena to see that the dragon keepers had only placed the single golden egg on the perch and hurried out of the arena, the giant entryway still ajar.
"Where's the dragon?" asked Lorelei.
"Not sure," said Ron. "Thought'd it already be out here..."
They then heard Bagman yell, "Well, looks like everything is set up for our final champion, Mr. Marcus Williams! Marcus, my lad, it's your turn!"
The group then heard Mr. Bagman blow through the whistle, making that familiar shrilly sound, leaving them quite anxious as to what would happen next...
Having already gotten his battle suit on, his hood over his head, Marcus stood calmly at the entrance, waiting for his time to come. A bit of time had passed since Harry's impressive performance against the Horntail and he couldn't wait to get out there and get it over with.
He was no longer afraid or doubtful. He knew exactly what he needed to do and how to go about doing it. The only thing missing was his opponent, but he didn't care. He was ready.
Finally, Marcus could hear the shrilly sound of the whistle echo through the air and couldn't help but smirk as he said out loud and to himself, "Showtime."
Marcus exited the champions' tent, ready for his challenge...
And this concludes another chapter of HP: Path of Trials! Feel free to leave a review on this story, as this'll help me become a better writer! Also, if you had any questions for me, feel free to leave me a PM and, I promise, I will answer them to the best of my ability! Until then, keep your eyes peeled for the next exciting chapter of HP: Path of Trials!
