Harry Potter and The Scholar of Mystery

by Matt of Ravenclaw

A re-make of Goblet of Fire, Harry and Hermione meet a mysterious Ravenclaw seemingly forgotten from history. Together, the three will face a threat that could destroy all of reality!

12. Into the Maze

Well, it's time for Chapter Twelve of Harry Potter and the Scholar of Mystery. Once again, I'd like to thank everyone for reading, particularly the people who have reviewed. Also, for Dark Golo, I would review your story but I can't speak or read Spanish. Allow me some time to laugh sheepishly and scratch the back of my head in a Goku Son-like fashion. Now that I've taken care of my "calm before the storm" chapter, it's time to get back to the action! Yeah!

. . . Whoops, forgot about the disclaimer.

Disclaimer: Hello, children. Guess what? I don't own any of the characters in the Harry Potter literary universe. Really! Not a one! Once again, I extend my writing talents to J.K. Rowling for the next few books in the series if she's willing to fork over a slight percentage of the royalties.

Chapter Twelve: Into the Maze

The last gasps of the day's sunlight were peeking through the windows of Professor Flitwick's classroom as Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Matt McGonagall, were nearly finished with their daily training. The third task would take place the next morning and Harry, like many would in his situation, feared that he may not be prepared. Hermione continued to run Harry through the drills like a determined drill sergeant while Matt and Ron Weasley looked on lazily, both of them exhausted from their rigorous final examinations. Every now and then, the bushy-haired Gryffindor would give Matt an impatient look as she fired spell after spell at Harry's carefully constructed shield charm.

"Very good, Mr. Potter," Professor Flitwick enthused, who continued to grade papers while watching the display. "I can see how you earned such high marks in my class this term. You've really come into your own!"

"Thank you very much, Professor Flitwick," Harry said, gritting his teeth as he blocked a Jelly-Legs Jinx, the shield caused it to rebound back to Hermione, who front-flipped over the ball of energy before firing another.

"How about me Professor?" Matt asked the diminutive Charms professor. "Did I beat Hermione in this class too?" Matt and Hermione had spent the last two weeks in a fierce competition to see who would earn the highest marks among the fourth years. Thus far, Matt had beaten her in Care of Magical Creatures and Defense of the Dark Arts while Hermione had taken top honors in Transfiguration, Arithmancy, Astronomy, and Herbology. Malfoy had taken top marks in Potions, a fact that he would constantly rub in Hermione's face at any given opportunity.

"Yes, you did, Mister McGonagall," Flitwick said as he ran a tiny hand through his bushy, snow-white beard. "You made a 120 percent, second highest in the class." Matt gave a satisfactory grin, causing Hermione to roll her eyes.

"Too bad your abysmal Transfiguration marks brought you down so much," Hermione teased as she cast another spell on Harry's shield. "It would have made beating you much more satisfying."

"There's always next year, Moony," Matt said as he sat up and took his wand out of his bag. He was expecting it to be his own turn any minute. However, just before he was about to stand up a thought came to his head and he turned back to Professor Flitwick. "Wait a minute. . . second best?"

"Mister Potter scored a 125 percent on his exam. He has top marks in this class."

"Cool!" Harry said as he effortlessly blocked an Expillarmus hex.

"I'm just happy I survived the Potions exam," Ron said as he leaned back in his seat and put his feet up on the desk, looking like a carrot- topped Huckleberry Finn. "I honestly think that Snape was out to kill us with that written examination."

"Come on, Ron!" Matt said as Harry's shield charm began to power down. "It wasn't that bad. After all, he told us everything that was going to be on the test."

"And about a thousand things that weren't on the test," Ron said lazily. "Honestly, you really need to get rid of your admiration for that slime-ball. You'll probably turn into him if you don't."

"I'll just ignore what you just said and concentrate on helping Hermione with her shield charm," Matt said as Hermione murmured an incantation, causing her wand to emit a bright blue light that encircled the young woman.

"Ready, Moony?"

"Ready, Padfoot." The Ravenclaw then used his wand to send spell after spell screaming at Hermione. Despite Matt's diligent efforts to break the protective barrier, Hermione deflected each attack with practiced ease. Both Ron and Professor Flitwick looked at the struggle with mild interest while Harry just couldn't stop staring at the determined look in Hermione's eyes. Her chocolate-brown eyes were gleaming with effort, excitement, anticipation, and confidence. Her bushy hair whipped behind her due to the eldritch energy within the barrier and the force of Matt's spells.

'She looks awfully pretty looking like that,' Harry thought wistfully as Hermione's thin lips tightened to a grimace under the strain. 'She's so strong.'

"Come on, Matt!" Hermione said in a taunting manner. "Surely you can come up with something better than this. I'm not even working up a sweat!"

"You're not, huh?" Matt said, an impish grin on his chiseled face as an idea drummed itself up inside his head. "You want me to step things up a bit?"

"Absolutely."

"You're sure?" Matt said, his grin broadening with every heartbeat. Harry had a warning for Hermione at the tip of his tongue but he decided to let it slide. He wanted to see where his fellow Marauder was going with this.

With one fluid motion, Matt ceased the spell he had been casting and began to prepare for another. He arose from his hunched position and took in a deep breath of air, straightening his back to rise to his full height. The tip of his wand crackled with ambient energy as its owner mumbled an incantation under his breath. Hermione braced herself while Harry's emerald-green eyes widened with worry and Professor Flitwick finally managed to fully break away from his papers. Even Ron arose from his half- asleep state to see the goings on. Finally, when the energy at the wand seemed to be at its peak, Matt gave the wand a mighty swish, his right hand held dramatically to the side as his left hand swung the wand back to its original position.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

Hermione couldn't help but laugh. Ron and Harry followed soon after, the latter nearly falling out of his chair in shock. Professor Flitwick chuckled as well, although for reasons entirely different from the three Gryffindors.

"You mean to tell me you're going to break through my shield with the simplest charm in the book?" Hermione said absurdly, not even bothering to stifle her laughter. It took a good five seconds after Matt's spell before Hermione realized that something was definitely wrong. Hermione double- checked her spell in case her amusement caused it to dissipate it for the tiniest moment, only to discover that the shield remained active the entire time. She also couldn't help but notice that she was a good ten feet in the air. The bushy-haired Gryffindor finally realized why Matt had seemed so calm with the attack and nearly slapped herself for not realizing it sooner.

He wasn't aiming for her. He was aiming for the shield.

"The problem with shield charms is that you don't necessarily have to break through them to get to the caster," Matt lectured, trembling his left hand to make sure the spell didn't waver for a moment. "With the proper spell and enough concentration, you can take over your opponent's own shield and mold it do what you want it to do. You can deny the caster their oxygen, shorten it so you can crush the person inside it, or intensify the force of the shield until the person inside can't contain it anymore and passes out from exhaustion."

"Or," Matt said devilishly as he took a seat on Professor Flitwick's desk, "you can just do this. . ."

Hermione Granger, protective shield and all, was hurtled across the vast Charms classroom and crashed into the marble walls at the northeast corner of the room. The shield protecting her body from crashing into the wall itself, but the chaotic motion of the shield itself caused Hermione's body to lurch every which way. Hermione gritted her teeth and thanked her physical training for allowing her to escape this predicament with nary a scratch. Unfortunately, Matt wasn't quite done yet as he sent Hermione hurtling all the way into the opposite corner of the room at twice the speed of before. Once again, the shield protected her from any major injuries, although her ego was suffering a severe bruising as she and her shield were brought to hover several feet above Matt's head.

"Here's hoping I get this right. . ." Matt said as a tiny bolt of white energy spurt from his wand to join the rainbow of energy that already surrounded it. Within moments, a continuous stream of Forcis spells were colliding with the furthest corner of the shield, essentially turning it into a mentally constructed merry-go-round. Harry couldn't help but wince as one of his best friends sent another one of his best friends on this bizarre, though disturbingly creative, carnival ride. The wild-haired Gryffindor could have sworn that Hermione's face was green.

"I think I've proven my point, don't you think Ron?" Matt said as the shield started to slow down its revolutions.

"Absolutely," Ron said with an even grin. He always thought that Hermione needed a comeuppance every now and then. The redheaded Gryffindor also could see that Matt could have made the ride quite a bit more dangerous if he hadn't cast a litany of additional protective spells to protect Hermione's body to make sure that she wouldn't be harmed.

Harry, given his current state of mind, didn't come to those conclusions quite as easily.

"Why did you that!" Harry shouted indignantly. "She could have been hurt!" If Matt didn't know any better, he would have sworn that his friend was about to hit him. Wanting to avoid any more trouble, Matt tried to defuse the situation with a simple smile and a sober look in his hazel eyes.

"Calm down, Prongs." Matt said as he slowly lowered Hermione back down to the ground. "You know as well as I do that Moony's made of stronger stuff than that, and I made sure that she wasn't hurt just to be safe. Happy?"

Harry had a bashful look on his face, a bit embarrassed that his own emotions blinded his own judgment. "Sorry, Matt. You okay, Hermione?"

"I'm fine," Hermione grumbled, not taking her eyes off Matt as she rubbed her neck. "I suppose you've made your point, Matt."

"Just call it a little humbling from one friend to another," Matt said evenly. A genuinely worried look was on his face as he asked his next question. "Are we still friends?"

"Of course we're still friends," Hermione answered with a warm smile. "Nothing could ever change that after all we've been through." Matt's smile broadened quite a bit at that and gave a significant sigh of relief. In fact, he was so wrapped up in his relief that he didn't even notice that Hermione's wand was pointed straight at him.

"Of course," Hermione continued. "We still have to deal with this problem of you attempting to make a fool out of me." Without another word, Hermione sent a black bolt of energy at Matt before anybody could stop her. The close proximity between the two of them didn't allow Matt any time to dodge the attack, causing it to hit him full in the chest, the force of the shot colliding with his body nearly causing him to double over. Then, with a simple poof of smoke, Matt's human body seemed to fade away and was replaced by the spiny, soft skin and body of a common porcupine.

"I believe that will make us even," Hermione said coolly as she pocketed her wand. The porcupine only gave her a sour grin in response. Professor Flitwick shook his head exasperatedly while Harry and Ron both burst out with laughter at the ridiculous sight.

"Nice to see your human Transfiguration spells are coming along, Hermione." Harry said as he knelt down to look at his newly transformed friend.

"As a good friend of mine once said, I just needed the proper motivation." Hermione said before turning towards Professor Flitwick. "Is it all right if we leave?"

It took the kindly Charms professor a while to respond. He was clearly not certain on what to say to this turn of events. "Why, why, yes of course, Miss Granger. Um, just how long is that spell supposed to last?"

"Just six hours," she answered casually. "Excuse me a moment," Hermione said as she used the flat end of her tennis shoes to nudge back an advancing Matt, who appeared to be trying to put his newfound quills to good use. "We'll take care of him until he turns back."

"Want to head to the Great Hall for dinner?" Harry asked as he picked up Matt's things along with his own and headed out of the classroom.

"Certainly! I'm starving!" Hermione responded as she and Harry left the classroom arm-in-arm.

"Come on, Matt," Ron said as he hefted Matt into his gangly arms, making certain to keep a good distance away from the quills, "let's get you something to eat." Ron stopped just short of the door before lifting Matt up to his shoulders and looking at him eye-to-eye. "I forget. Are porcupines omnivores?"

'This is not funny,' Matt thought. 'This is the last time I try to help anybody!'

Needless to say, the atmosphere at the breakfast just before the final task of the tournament was a bit stressed. Harry was scanning his latest letter from Sirius for the twelfth time that day; his modest breakfast remained untouched and cooling on the table. The young man wouldn't have gotten any sleep at all the night before if not for a gentle sleeping spell from Hermione. As for Hermione herself, she would paw at her breakfast and gaze at Harry worriedly, only stopping whenever Harry saw her eyes on him. Even Ron was a little loath to eat anything, choosing to pass the time instead by occasionally tapping the corners of his plate with his fork and knife. Matt would occasionally try to liven the atmosphere by giving Harry words of encouragement or telling bad jokes. He would always hush up as soon as he realized that nobody was paying any attention.

While Harry's body remained on standby, his brain was yelling at him to eat. After all, Harry was about to fight for the Triwizard title and a prize of one thousand galleons. More importantly, it seemed that the mysterious maze that had been constructed on the school's Quidditch pitch seemed like the ideal place for Voldemort's spy to lay a trap for him. The smart thing for Harry to do was to eat as quickly as he could and continue to gather as much information as he could on what was ahead of him. However, realizing what needs to be done and actually getting it done were problems that anyone, muggle or wizard, could acquiesce to having every now and then. Harry's daydreaming was interrupted by the sound of a silky voice behind him, the voice's owner stressing every syllable in the hope that she wouldn't get anything wrong.

"Iz it fine if we zit here?" Fleur Delacour asked. Harry turned around blearily, his unkempt hair sticking up in every direction, to look at the gorgeous half-veela and her doting half-sister, Gabrielle. The half- veela siblings were each holding breakfast trays packed with food edibles and were eager to tuck into them. Harry couldn't help but notice that ever- so-slight dark circles had formed below Fleur's magnificent eyes, although whether that was from worry about today's task or from something else. Gabrielle looked as cheerful as usual. Her sky-blue robes, luxurious silver curls, and her shining smile made her look like a miniature version of her older sister.

"Go right ahead, Fleur." Matt piped up. "We could use the company." Needing no further prompting, the siblings took their seats at the table; Fleur sitting beside Harry and Gabrielle sitting next to Matt.

"Hi, Uncle Matt!" Gabrielle yipped merrily, nearly bouncing up and down in her seat. The younger Delacour refused to abandon her sister after what happened after the second task and her parents allowed her to stay at Hogwarts until the third task. She had taken quite a liking to the mischievous Ravenclaw, much to Fleur's and Hermione's amusement.

"Hi yourself, kid," Matt grumbled, as he playfully ran a strong hand through the girl's hair. He couldn't help but grin a bit at the young lady's enthusiasm. "Are you doing all right?"

"No," Gabrielle said in a half dismal, half petulant voice that many parents of young children know far too well. "Fleur's too busy reading books an' she von't play wit' me!"

"Fleur has bin bizzy with her books," Fleur retorted as she gave her sister a wry grin as she sighed wearily. "I am very happy that ze N.E.W.T's are done." The N.E.W.T.'s were the equivalent of the final graduation exam throughout all wizard schools throughout Europe. Their reputation for its excessive difficulty to adequately complete and the mind- numbing amount of time that was deemed necessary to prepare for it was quite merited. Harry felt a bit guilty that, unlike his fellow participants in the Triwizard tournament, he didn't have to take the N.E.W.T.'s. Of course, the fact that he was three years younger than Fleur, Viktor, and Cedric relieved him from this guilt quite nicely.

"You've really improved your English, Fleur," Hermione complimented as she finally began to eat some of her food. "I could barely understand you several months ago, I must admit. Now, though, you're speaking English better than Ron ever could."

"HEY!" Matt shouted as he turned his attention away from his scrambled eggs. "Have you been reading my Ronald Weasley joke book?" Ron was about to defend himself from his two friends but the enchanting sound of Fleur's laughter seemed to pacify the youngest Weasley brother in quite a hurry.

"I am 'oping to get a job here," Fleur said as she took a sip of orange juice. "Zis castle is quite, how you say, fascinating. Quite different from Beauxbatons."

"Yeah, fascinating," Ron mumbled dreamily. Matt was sorely tempted to see if he could dump his entire goblet of milk on the Gryffindor's head to snap him out of it but bravely fought back his impulse. After all, it wasn't the first time that Ron had made an ass out of himself when it came to Fleur Delacour. He was quite confident that it would happen again.

"I just vanted to wish you luck today, 'Arry," Fleur said, her ivory- white teeth sparkling. "I know zat we vill be rivals today but I hope for your safety."

"Oh, um, well, thanks. Good luck to you too!" Harry stammered back as he blushed slightly and took an extreme interest in his half-eaten pancakes. Hermione simply shook her head wistfully at her friend. It seemed that not even Harry could fully resist the inherent persuasive skills of a veela.

"We're happy to have ya!" Matt said as he took a fork and knife from a pleading Gabrielle and began to cut up the girl's pancakes.

"Then you won't mind if we join you as well," said Katie Bell. The Gryffindor Chaser had her usual cheery smile on her tanned face as she stood across from Ron. Katie's boyfriend, Viktor Krum, was standing next to her, his usual shy smile sticking out from his otherwise gruff features. Matt and Hermione both looked at each other, both of them quite taken aback by their table's sudden spike in popularity. Any argument was ceased when they both turned to Harry, who had a bright smile on his face from seeing his teammate and Krum wanting to sit next to him. It was a far cry from the somber soul who Matt had to practically carry into the Great Hall.

"Why not?" Hermione said cheerfully. "Just let us make room. Move over Harry!"

"I don't have enough room as it is right now!" Harry complained as Fleur slid down to the corner of the oak bench.

"Why not just sit on Fleur's lap?" Matt asked. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind." Ron, Katie, and Fleur all burst out in laughter. Even Krum seemed to chuckle at the crude remark, a grumbling sound emanating from his throat. Harry, on the other hand, looked quite ready to hide under the table.

"Do you want me to turn you into a porcupine again?" Hermione asked flatly as she sprang to her friend's defense.

"No, ma'am." Matt said hastily, not wanting to be 18 inches tall again any time soon.

"'ello, Harry." Viktor said softly as he sat next to Ron. Ron, who had just recovered from the shock of sitting at the same table with the girl of his dreams, was now forced back to stunned silence as he now sat next to his favorite Quidditch player.

"Hi, Viktor," Harry said back as he mustered up the nerve to give Matt a sharp glare. "When's the next time we're going to play Quidditch? I was hoping we could get a game in before you and your friends left." Krum brightened significantly at the mention of Quidditch. As one of the top Seekers in the world, Quidditch was his life and whenever he talked about it or played it, he became a near polar opposite of the brooding fellow who spent much of his "ground time" in the library throughout the entire term.

"Ze N.E.W.T.'s have taken much of my time," Krum said a bit glumly. "But I vill be flying ze skies soon enuff. You are velcome to join us if you wish."

Harry couldn't help but grin at Viktor's offer. Between his physical and magic training and studying, Harry had spent quite a bit of his spare time on the makeshift Quidditch pitch with Krum, Katie, and the Weasleys. He had even managed to goad Matt into several games, which gave Ron an opportunity to gloat at his success of "changing" him. Harry was quite tempted to invite Cedric Diggory several times, but stopped himself when he realized that if Cedric did choose to come, Cho Chang was quite likely to follow. Despite his dwindling crush on the Ravenclaw seeker, Harry knew a potentially ugly situation when he saw it.

For the next half hour, the eight young witches and wizards chatted amiably as they each prepared for what was to come. Stress just seemed to leave their minds as they each basked in the warm joys of friendship and camaraderie.

Ludo Bagman interrupted the cheerful scene. Wearing the same purple and black wizard robes, the former Quidditch star had a billowing smile on his chubby face. Every now and then he would stop and say hello to a random student in a manner that would make a Muggle politician proud. He had come down with the purpose to give Harry some words of encouragement and was quite shocked to find not only Harry but also two of his Triwizard rivals seated at the same table. While Bagman fought between discreetly leaving the scene or continuing on, Matt spotted him over the throng of bustling students.

"Minister Bagman!" Matt shouted, motioning the former Quidditch star to come over while staring him down with an icy glare. The memories of the pensieve were still quite active in Matt's mind. Matt could just make out an angry grumbling from Hermione as Bagman once again plastered his jolly smile to his face and moved towards them.

"Why hello!" Bagman called out, his jovial voice doing an admirable job of hiding his frustration. "It seems that you've acquired quite an eclectic following, Mr. Potter!"

"I wouldn't necessary call them a following," Harry said tongue-in- cheek, not really certain what to think of Bagman's appearance and a bit hesitant to ask. Matt and Hermione, of course, were not restrained by this.

"I'd call them friends," Hermione said with a hint of anger in her voice. "After all, isn't the Triwizard tournament a time where witches and wizards of all nationalities should come together and draw closer?"

"As opposed to engaging in more sordid activities," Matt continued, the same hostility in his voice. "Such as, oh, trading critical information. . ."

"Spreading xenophobic paranoia. . ." Hermione followed up.

"Gambling on the tournament," Matt chimed in while calmly sipping his milk as he held Bagman there with a steady gaze. Bagman, to his credit, kept his poker face maintained and cleared his throat.

"Indeed," Bagman muttered while Fleur and Krum looked at him suspiciously. "I've just stopped by to tell you all that the champions' families are invited to watch the final task. They're waiting for you in the central hall. . ."

"Mere! Pere!" Gabrielle shouted as she nearly flew out of her seat and rushed into the waiting arms of her mother and father. Fleur was shortly behind her little sister, a single tear tracing down her fine cheek as she raced forward. Meanwhile, a huge bear of a man with a massive grin and a hooked nose practically lifted Viktor out of his seat while a dark- haired woman peppered Krum's face with kisses. All three of them were shouting in Bulgarian. Katie gave a worried look to Harry, a bit frightened that she was apparently about to meet her boyfriend's parents.

"Okay. Perhaps they're not waiting." Bagman mumbled, well aware that no one was paying any attention to him. Bagman could just see Cedric Diggory rising from his seat out of the corner of his eyes and embracing his own mother and father.

Harry remained seated at the table watching the entire spectacle. He was quite aware that there was no family there to congratulate him. The Dursleys were certainly not going to willingly come within ten miles of Hogwarts and Harry wasn't exactly looking forward to seeing them in the first place. Harry did forget, however, that he did have another family.

"Surprise!" Mrs. Weasley shouted as she hugged Harry around his neck. "Thought we'd come and watch you, Harry!" Harry couldn't quite speak of his surprise, his eyes widening both from shock and a sudden lack of oxygen.

"It sure beats a day at Gringotts!" Bill Weasley added with a cheery grin as he stood behind his mother as he watched Fred and George rushed up to join in the unexpected family reunion. "Charlie wanted to come, but he couldn't get time off. He told me that you were spectacular against the Horntail though."

"What on earth are you guys doing here?" Fred asked as George hastily stuffed a copy of the latest order form idea for their prank shop in one of the back pockets of his robes.

"We've come to watch Harry in the last task!" Mrs. Weasley replied as she broke away from Harry and gave the mischievous twins a strong embrace. "I must say, it makes a lovely change from cooking and cleaning. How were your exams?"

"Just wonderful, mum," Fred said brightly. "A whole smattering of different grades for me. I've always enjoyed variety."

"All I'll say is that I did better than he did!" George said pointing at Fred.

"You did not, you dumb bloke!" Fred countered, shoving a finger into George's chest. "You're forgetting that I'm the brains of this operation!"

"Gimme a break, Fred!" George argued back. "I wasn't the one whose invisibility potion didn't work!"

"At least I got my teacups to dance in Charms class!" Fred shot back, both of their voices getting louder and louder.

"Mine were dancing!" George shouted defiantly.

"Backing up and then crashing into each other doesn't count!" Fred yelled. Mrs. Weasley gave an ever-patient sigh as the twins continued to bicker.

"I'll just assume that both of you did poorly," she said as she turned to her youngest son. "How about you, Ron? How were your exams?"

"I passed them all with flying colors," Ron said with a significant air of pride. "Couldn't remember all the goblin rebels' names in History of Magic so I ended up inventing a few. Other than that, I think everything went okay." Mrs. Weasley visibly glowed at Ron's accomplishments and gave the young man a hug and a kiss on the cheek that only a son could hate.

"And, Hermione!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed while giving the young lady a once over. "You look positively wonderful!"

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said with a slight nod. Then Mrs. Weasley moved towards her with a grin that looked as if it may have come from one of the twins.

"So, how are you and Harry getting along?" the matriarch of the Weasley family asked with the tone and excitement of a gossiping teenager.

"What!" Hermione shouted, quite taken aback by the question. Harry apparently heard the question as well, as he too was sputtering to defend himself. "Um, we're not dating or anything like that, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione explained while Harry nodded fervently. "Rita Skeeter was just looking for a way to get under Harry's skin. She's developed quite a bit of a grudge, I'm afraid."

"I see," Mrs. Weasley grumbled, her dislike for The Daily Prophet investigative reporter quite evident.

"Don't worry, ma'am!" Matt spoke up with a grin and a wave. "I'll make sure they keep their hands off each other at least some of the time." Mrs. Weasley turned to the stranger with a bemused look on her face.

"Oh! And who might you be? A friend of Ron's?"

"Matt McGonagall," Matt said as he stood up and extended his hand, which Mrs. Weasley shook warmly.

"Oh!" Mrs. Weasley said as she racked her brain in recollection, snapping her fingers rapidly as if the motion would give her memories a kick-start. "You're Minerva McGonagall's grandson!"

"That I am," Matt said as he ran a hand through his hair nervously, "though I'm not privy to make that a well-known fact."

"I knew your mother and father very well, young man," Mrs. Weasley said softly. "As fine a witch and wizard there could be."

"Oh," Matt murmured, quite uncertain of what to say to that. Bill, sensing Matt's discomfort, chose to change to subject.

"Well, maybe we can brighten the air up with a tour of Hogwarts!" he exclaimed merrily while flipping back a rebellious strand of long red hair that escaped from his ponytail. "I haven't seen this place in years! Is that picture of the mad knight still around? Sir Cadogan?"

"You bet it is," Matt said, his usual mischievous nature reemerging. "He's still a little mad at me for painting his donkey pink the last time I was up there."

"Wish I would have thought of that," Fred said wistfully.

"Yeah," George added. "The best you could ever do to that git was turn his picture upside down."

"Sure confused his horse though," Fred said in his own defense. Their mother gave them a disappointed look, not surprised in the least that her children would pull such a horrible trick.

"I wish the two of you would focus as much time on your schoolwork as you do on causing trouble," she snapped. "They would've already made the two of you prefects like Percy and Bill." At the thought of being prefects, Fred and George looked as if they smelt something awful in the room.

"I don't think I could handle that kind of pressure," George said to his twin brother.

"Yeah. To be able to take off points and all that stuff. You know we'd just abuse our privileges, mum." Fred added.

"It's best left in more capable hands," Fred said as he jokingly patted his mother on the shoulder. "Our not being prefects is our contribution to an ordered society."

"A society where we plan to cause a great deal of trouble," George pointed out.

"Indeed," Fred added. Mrs. Weasley wisely chose to ignore her childrens' ranting while Hermione rolled her eyes and the others tried not to break out in laughter.

"Shall we go then?" asked Bill.

"Sure," Harry said as he led the way out of the Great Hall. Just as they were at the castle gates, Mrs. Weasley turned around and spoke up.

"Wait a minute, where's Ginny?"

Both Harry and Matt paled a bit at the question. Since Crouch's death, Ginny had mostly kept to herself, either resting in her dormitory or working in the library. On good days she would occasionally chat with her brothers but she hadn't said a word to Harry, Hermione, or Matt in weeks.

"She's probably catching up on her sleep," Hermione said, a bit ashamed that she was lying to a woman that had always been so kind to her. "Final exams were a real bear for her. We'll probably catch up to her by the third task." If Mrs. Weasley saw through the young woman's flimsy fib, then she didn't give any indication.

"Then I suppose we'll see her later," Bill said brightly with a shrug of his shoulders. "As for now, let's go look on the grounds. I'd love to get a closer look at the ship from Durmstrang! Charlie told me that it was a work of art and from what I saw in the air, it looks pretty impressive to me." Matt and Hermione stayed behind to say goodbye to Fleur, Viktor, Gabrielle, and Katie while Harry led the Weasleys through the campus of Hogwarts.

For Harry, it was quite relaxing to spend the afternoon with the Weasleys'. Ron and Mrs. Weasley had walked beside him as he showed them the Beauxbatons carriage and the Durmstrang ship. While Molly and Bill both marveled at the sights, Harry would set his sights on the maze every now and then marveling about the sheer size of the structure and wondering just what lay inside of it. The monsters and puzzles that the Triwizard officials had placed within it would certainly be dangerous, but Harry had another reason to worry that the other champions did not. Voldemort and whoever worked for him within Hogwarts was looking for him as well. It didn't take a master detective to realize that the forest maze, which Harry learned was virtually impossible to see within from the outside, was clearly the best place for Voldemort and his spy to spring their trap.

As the high noon soon gradually began to simmer and a cool summer breeze blew down from the cloudy skies, Harry tried to work out just what he was feeling. Was it fear? Possible, but not likely. To be brutally frank, Harry was quite tired of running away from his problems and his enemies, the desire to meet them head-on was stronger than he cared to admit. Then was it excitement? Not necessarily. The sheer physical and mental agony he endured during the second task had dampened the romantic aspects of the tournament. Even if Harry did emerge victorious, he didn't picture the glorious scene of pride and accomplishment that he did before. He'd be far happier when this whole business was over and done with no matter who won.

'So then,' Harry thought as he and the Weasleys made their way back to Hogwarts for the final meal before the task, 'just what exactly is this?'

Anticipation. That was it. Harry didn't know just what would happen within the confines of the maze, but he knew that he wished to face it. The fear and the excitement were there as plain as day, but they were overridden by Harry's desire to see just what life had in store for him. He knew the maze held that secret for him, for better or worse. The mysterious monstrosity seemed to call to him now, begging him to explore its secrets, and, in turn, to explore his own.

Simply put, Harry James Potter was ready for the maze.

"We shall be patrolling outside of the maze," Professor McGonagall said to the four champions. "If you get into difficulty and wish to be rescued, send red sparks into the air and one of us will come and get you. Do you understand?"

All four of them nodded. Harry turned back to see Matt and Hermione behind him with their wands drawn, the determination in their eyes only matched by his own. Hagrid stood beside them, his round face perturbed with worry.

"Good luck, Harry," Hagrid whispered as Bagman called for the champions to follow him.

"We'll handle things out here," Matt said. "You just take care of whatever the hell is in there."

"And be sure to send a flare if you're in trouble," Hermione added with a brief hint of worry. "It's still better if we face whatever's in there together if we can."

"I don't think the Triwizard judges would approve of that," Harry said with a dry grin.

"Forget them," Matt said simply. "Just focus on getting that cup so all this mess is over with." Harry gazed back to the grandstands to see the Weasley family waving to him. Fred and George were hooting and hollering like soccer hooligans while Bill and Ron cheered politely. Even Ginny was there, giving him a small smile and a thumbs-up, her eyes hollow and a bit tear-stricken.

"Mister Potter," Bagman called just before he was to use a Sonorus charm on his voice. "Please join the other champions."

"Good luck," Hermione and Matt both said. Harry just nodded and joined the others.

"Ladies and gentleman!" Bagman called out. "The third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Before we begin allow me to once again announce where the points currently stand! In fourth place with sixty-three points, from Beauxbatons Academy, Miss Fleur Delacour."

There was scarcely little applause from the stands. However, the shining eyes of the kindly half-veela were only focused on three people cheering happily, her family's love giving her more hope and encouragement than 20,000 strangers could ever provide. Harry gave her an encouraging smile, causing Fleur to wink at him and give him a bashful smile that could have sent steam shooting from Harry's ears.

"And in third place with eighty points. One of the top students at the Durmstrang Institute and captain of the Bulgarian national Quidditch team. Viktor Krum!" Quite a bit of applause to that, particularly from the Durmstrang section of the crowd.

"In second place with eighty-five points, Cedric Diggory of Hogwarts!" Harry almost covered his ears due to all the applause. Cedric blushed profusely as the grandstands seemed to quiver and shake with all the commotion. Even after nearly a year of constant admiration from everyone at Hogwarts, the Hufflepuff prefect was still miffed by all the attention. Harry thought back to that stormy night when Cedric beat Harry to the snitch back in third year and the day when he found out that Cedric was going out with his boyhood crush, Cho Chang. Harry wanted to be mad at him for all of this, but Harry also thought that he had no real reason to be mad at him. As far as he could tell, Cedric was a good person who meant no real harm or embarrassment to him. The wild-haired Gryffindor gave Cedric a thumbs-up, which Diggory quickly returned with a nervous grin.

"And, in first place with eighty-eight points, Harry Potter of Hogwarts!" Another roar of applause. Not quite as intense as Cedric's but still enough to make Harry blush a bit.

"All right, Harry," Bagman said as he raised a whistle to his lips. "Three. . two. . one. ."

Harry covered the fifty-yard path from the starting point to the entrance of the maze within seconds and was soon in the dark confines of the forest maze. According to the rules, he had ninety seconds before Cedric was allowed in so he took some time to get acclimated to the peculiar surroundings. The thick, abundant hedges cast a shadow over the normally bright green grass of the Quidditch pitch, something that somehow perturbed him. What made it even more distressing was the fact that Harry could not hear the slightest noise from the outside, although whether that was the sheer density of the leaves blocking the sound or some form of magical enchantment was uncertain.

'No one can hear you scream,' Harry thought gravely as he pulled his wand out of the side loop of his belt and rushed farther into the maze. Cedric would be soon to follow.

Severus Snape looked extremely bored as he paced back and forth at the southeast corner of the maze, twirling his wand with his long, slim fingers. It had been a half-hour since that idiot Potter had run into the maze and, fortunately, there was no trouble to speak of. The last moments of the summer sun seemed to beat down on his black wizard robes, the heat causing him to sweat and grumble in frustration. He was against the notion of reviving the Triwizard tournament from the moment Dumbledore first mentioned it. He felt that all the "hullabaloo" would distract the students from what they were brought here to do. Namely, to learn all there was to know about magic so that they may make the slightest bit of good in their otherwise banal existences. Now, looking at the highly festive audience and the ridiculously lavish creation that had been constructed on the normally lush and gorgeous Quidditch pitch, the potions master was only slightly relieved in his assurance of being correct in the matter.

"Good evening, Professor Snape."

Severus turned to see Matt and Hermione walking towards him, their eyes and bodies tense and nervous. They looked as if Voldemort himself was about to pounce on them at any moment. Snape offered a bit of a grimace in return to their greeting, which was as close to a smile as Severus would provide under the circumstances.

"Have you seen anything suspicious?" Snape asked, not even bothering to look at the two of them while he spoke.

"Nothing, zilch, nada," Matt responded, absently kicking the dirt. "Whatever Voldemort's trying, if he's trying anything, must be in the maze itself."

"Professor," Hermione asked, "Just who was responsible for setting up the maze?"

"It was a number of people, Miss Granger," Snape grumbled as he sneered at the throng of people in the stands. "The Ministry wanted to make sure that there were a multitude of people involved lest a single representative wished to favor a certain participant."

"But who? Who are they?" Matt asked. Severus shot a withering glance at Matt for his impatient tone, causing Matt to shrink back a bit from the head of Slytherin house. With the slightest hint of a grin, Severus went on.

"Bagman, Crouch, that oaf Hagrid, Percy Weasley, Madame Maxine, and Moody."

"One of those six people could very likely be Voldemort's spy," Matt said, "but the question is who?"

"Well, it certainly can't be Hagrid or Crouch!" Hermione went on. "Crouch is dead and Hagrid is loyal to Dumbledore."

"Moody doesn't really look like an option," Matt said. "Why the hell would Moody spend two-thirds of his life fighting someone and just turn around and support him?"

"Yes, and Madame Maxine still despises Voldemort for betraying the pact he made with her fellow giants fifteen years ago," Severus said. Matt and Hermione both looked at their teacher in shock at the news. Severus looked at them with an impatient look upon his sallow features.

"Don't tell me the two of you didn't realize that Maxine is a half- giant?!" he said in exasperation. "The woman's as big as a bloody house!"

"Then that leaves us with Percy and Bagman," Matt concluded.

"Please don't let it be Percy," Hermione whispered as she continued to stare at the maze. "It would break Molly's heart."

"Remember, Hermione!" Hermione whispered. "There may not be a spy in the committee. Dumbledore surely would have inspected each member before placing them in responsibility for the participants safety."

There was a pregnant lull in the conversation after that as the three of them just stared at the imposing maze, none of them sure in the slightest of what to do. Hermione wanted to cry her eyes out, scream, dash into the maze, do something! Anything but just sit here and wait for something to happen! Matt remained down on one knee, his eyes closed and deep in thought. He couldn't help but think that he knew what was wrong, that it was something. It was like when you left the house to go somewhere and you needed to take something important with you only to realize that you left what you needed only when you got to where you needed to go.

"Let's go see Dumbledore, Hermione," Matt said as he leaped back to his feet. "We can't do anything here."

"Agreed," Hermione said, as she led the way back to the judges' table. "Are you coming, Professor?"

"No, thank you, Granger," Snape drawled. "I believe I'll keep my all- important vigil here."

"Suit yourself," Matt said with a shrug of his shoulders as he followed Hermione back to where the third task began. Severus watched them go, their lithe bodies traversing the smooth plains surrounding the Quidditch pitch as if they were born on the grasslands of the Serengeti. Snape, however, remained still as his mind tottered between perpetual worry and sheer boredom.

Harry skidded to a stop as he nearly crashed into yet another dead end. The Gryffindor didn't expect to have an easy time through this task but the sheer number of ambling walls and passageways to nowhere almost threatened to drive him mad. Harry continued his near constant use of the Four-Point spell as he backtracked once again, the red beam of light acting as his compass, constantly pointing to the north.

Despite his frustration, Harry was quite confident that he still had the lead in this mind-boggling race. Although all four of them were quite skilled both in the air and in the water, it was Harry that had the advantage on the ground. His physical training and his thin, wiry frame made him the perfect candidate for a foot race. The fact that Harry also had a ninety second start on his closest competitor didn't hurt his chances either. Despite his confidence, Harry was starting to feel that the maze was just nothing more than a assortment of dead ends. He and his fellow participants had also been warned to be aware of possible wizard traps and magical creatures. However, Harry had seen neither hide nor hair of a creature that was even remotely dangerous after a full half-hour within it. There were no dementors, no blast-ended skrewts, no Voldemort or Macnair ready to leap out and challenge him to a duel. No nothing.

And that only worried Harry.

Harry couldn't help but curse as he ran into yet another dead end. Unlike the others, there was a small hole in the roof at the top of the hedges, allowing for a purplish-orange ray of sunshine to filter into the maze. Harry took the briefest second to soak in the sudden warmth before casting the Four-Point spell once again. It appeared he had gone too far west. That left only one passageway left to explore from the intersection he had found just minutes ago. The promise of moving onward was quite appealing to Harry as he quickly ran off back into the center corridor. With a huge smile on his face, Harry once again turned his feet and returned to the three-way intersection to turn to the right direction, arriving just in time to be met by a ball of fire aimed straight for him.

"Something's wrong." Matt said as he continued his frenetic pacing back and forth in front of the judges' table.

"Budge up, boy!" Ludo Bagman cried, who took a risk by wrapping a thickset arm around Matt's shoulders. "I'm sure there's isn't anything in there that Harry doesn't know how to handle! The Triwizard officials have made certain that no grievous harm will come to the participants in this trial."

"How reassuring," Matt said as he fought back the urge to sneer. He remembered that Karkaroff had said something similar just before the second task. Bagman, even for his complete lack of tact earlier in the day, was smart enough to realize to leave the young man to his worries. With a nervous grin, Bagman excused himself and returned to sit down at the table.

Hermione, on the other hand, was trying to pry as much information about the maze as she could from Professor McGonagall. Not surprisingly, the head of Gryffindor house was supplying little, if any information that the bushy haired young woman didn't already know.

"You're concern is noted Miss Granger, but allow me to stress that there is absolutely nothing to worry about. The maze was constructed by good-standing members of either this school or the Ministry of Magic."

Hermione discreetly fought back the urge to scoff at the notion of Bagman or Bartemius Crouch as being good-standing members of the Ministry of Magic. "But, Professor, Voldemort must have someone within Hogwarts! That's the only way Macnair could have found a way in on New Year's Eve! It must have been the same person that put Harry's name in the Goblet of Fire during the opening ceremonies!"

McGonagall's eyes were wide at Hermione's mention of Riddle's name, her wrinkled cheeks now several shades paler than before. "Miss Granger! I'll have you know that Albus Dumbledore inspected the maze himself just before Professor Moody placed the Triwizard cup into the maze and has assured us that the maze has been made as safe as possible for the Triwizard competitors."

As much as Hermione would have liked to be at peace with Dumbledore's approval, she knew as well as anyone that even the brightest of wizards could make mistakes. After all, Dumbledore had no idea that it was Professor Quirrel that was after the Sorcerer's Stone in their first year. If it wasn't for Harry and Professor Snape, Quirrel would have most likely gotten away with the stone and made Voldemort immortal right then and there. Though she respected the kindly Headmaster of Hogwarts more than nearly any man or woman alive, Dumbledore was only human. A human that was either revered or at least respected by every witch or wizard in Europe, but still a human.

Wait a minute. . .

Moody.

It made all the sense in the world and yet it didn't make any sense at all. Alastor Moody was the most accomplished Auror in over a century, a man whose exploits against Voldemort was among the stuff of legends. Moody was a man of many faults, no question about it, but his loyalty to the wizarding world was known to be unwavering to the point of radicalism. He was a man that Dumbledore openly stated that he would entrust with his own life. For most people, the thought of Alastor Moody serving as a spy for the Dark Lord was simply ludicrous.

For Hermione Granger, one of the most brilliant minds Hogwarts had seen in many decades, it was a wonder that she hadn't figured it out sooner.

Without another word, Hermione made a mad dash towards the forest maze, barely able to register the soft footfalls of Matt trailing behind her. She could just make out a slight roar from the crowd and a belligerent Igor Karkaroff ordering them to cease their interference in the tournament. Her body subconsciously leaped to the side to dodge a Stupefy spell as she drew closer and closer to the maze.

Fifty yards from the entrance.

'Hold on, Harry.'

Forty yards.

'Stay alive!'

Thirty yards.

'I'm coming to help!'

Twenty yards.

'You won't have to do this alone.'

Hermione crashed into the ground as a Leg Locker curse took hold of her. She instinctually twisted her arms to prevent from falling directly on her head or neck, a sharp pain from her right arm where she landed. She first tried to fight the curse with her own will. However, the sheer strength of the curse sank into her as if it were own heartbeat. With a swift, fraught-filled motion, she pulled out her wand from her robe and performed the counter-curse. Within less than a second, the woman known as "Moony" was back on her feet and ready to run again.

A strong pair of arms wrapped around Hermione's small form and raised her into the air before she could even make another step. She struggled and spat out some very unladylike words as Matt continued to dash into the maze, zigzagging and leaping to avoid any attempts to stop him.

"Don't let Harry get to the Triwizard Cup!" Hermione screamed, her normally calm voice a harsh screech from the desperation. "The cup must be a Portkey! Get to it before anyone else does!" Padfoot gave no acknowledgment as he dashed into the maze, his face flushed with urgency and worry.

Hermione continued to vainly struggle against her captor, speculating just who had enough strength to hold her so steadily. She first thought of Karkaroff or Bagman, seeing as how they were closest to her before she went for the maze. However, Hermione also thought that neither of the Triwizard judges had the strength to do such a thing. Perhaps it was even Madame Maxine or Hagrid, who could have dashed down to meet her that held her tight.

"Calm yourself, Miss Granger," Albus Dumbledore said calmly as he placed Hermione back on the ground, his sky blue eyes holding Hermione still. As flabbergasted as she was to see that it was an 150-year-old man was her captor, she couldn't hide her seething anger from the amiable Headmaster.

"Why did you stop me!" Hermione screamed at him, a look in her eyes that would send shivers into the spines of even the bravest wizard. Even Dumbledore couldn't hide the slightest of winces before responding.

"It is their place to witness the horrors within that maze, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said soberly, his eyes remaining sharp and clear. "It is not yours."

"What kind of rubbish is that?" Hermione said indignantly. "Didn't you say that the three of us were linked? That we would face whatever horrors that were inflicted upon the world together?"

"Indeed you are," Dumbledore replied. "But not today."

Hermione did not speak, her chocolate-brown eyes seemingly fixed to Dumbledore's aged face.

"You have a different role today, Miss Granger."

When Harry was handed his first copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Salamander, he learned about a whole menagerie of magical creatures that he wanted no part of in the future. There were chimeras and werewolves and basilisks and manticores, monsters that had the strength of many men and magical capabilities that would put some of the finest wizards in the world to shame. Of the many creatures that Harry learned about within those now-ruffled pages, Harry never considered a wyvern to be an absurdly dangerous creature. After all, it didn't have the sheer size of the dragon, the intelligence of a sphinx, or the magical skill of a banshee.

'Goes to show that I should never underestimate something I've never met,' Harry mused as he dodged another bolt of fire, a wave of heat almost slapping him in the side of the head. The fireball collided with the mysterious magic that surrounded the forest maze's interior and soon dissipated into nothing.

The magical beast fluttered several feet above Harry's head, its small, leathery wings beating back gravity with each tiny flap. The creature's skin was a mixture of light and dark red hues accentuated with a crimson tail that swathed back and forth as it stared at Harry. Its short, stubby beak gave it the appearance of a nasty old man who seemed to hate everyone and everything. Its' wizened and wrinkled face, along with the snow-white eyebrows reminded him of a villain he saw in one of Dudley's old comic books, something outlandish and ridiculous yet cold and chilling at the same time.

Harry's thoughts of the wyvern abruptly ceased as it spat a trio of fireballs at the Gryffindor, the sheer velocity of the attack causing the air to scream at him. Using agility honed from years of Quidditch and physical training, Harry dodged the attacks with all the poise of an Olympic gymnast and fired back with a partially charged Forcis spell. The wyvern, showing its own agility, avoided the burst of energy and came at Harry with a chilling dive. As Harry prepared to defend himself from the wyvern's sharp maw, the clever creature performed a forward flip and slammed into Harry's chest at full speed. His eyes bleary and his lungs winded from the blow, Harry sent a short and thick shower of sparks from his wand in an attempt to blind the creature. With a look of severe irritation on its sour features, the wyvern drew back its assault, a murderous look in its avian eyes.

'This must have been what the spy planned for me to face,' Harry thought as he returned the wyvern's simmering glare with a stare of his own before the wyvern advanced on him once again. 'There's no way that Dumbledore or Madame Maxine would let such a dangerous creature into the maze!' Despite the numerous frightening creatures he had met at his four years at Hogwarts, only the basilisk he had met at the Chamber of Secrets could match the strength of this wyvern. The creature was so imbued with magical energy that it made using hexes upon it a near impossibility. However, what frightened Harry most about the wyvern was its sheer ferocity and skill. Every movement that the creature made, as the old cliché went, had its own purpose, and that purpose was to hurt him. Whether by its own magic or physical force, the only goal that the wyvern seemed to have was the need, the desire, to kill Harry Potter.

The black-haired Gryffindor hid the desire to howl in pain as the wyvern sank its jaws into the far left-hand corner of Harry's abdomen. Harry could see his own blood dripping off the edges of the creature's beak as it hastily released its grip to avoid a counterattack. After blocking a Flipendo jynx, the wyvern soared to the roof of the forest maze and shot a stream of fire from its mouth. Fighting back the pain from his gut, Harry dove to the side to avoid the creature's strike, seeking cover within the thick, bushy inner walls of the maze. Undeterred, the wyvern soared around the grassy covering and faced Harry again before resuming its fiery assault.

Harry realized that the only way he was going to win this fight was to take the fight into close quarters. The chances of the wyvern's magical attacks hitting their target would increase greatly to be sure, but at least he would have some decent offensive options. Unfortunately, Harry was having a hard time thinking of any trick he could pull off that would cause any significant damage. Dodging another vicious tail swipe from the wyvern that cut a severe portion of the thick shrubbery from its foundation, Harry cast the only spell he thought would do any good.

"Sotaris transforma!" he cried, focusing all his latent magical talents into his own wand. Almost immediately, the usually firm holly wand stretched from its normal eleven inches, causing it to grow heavier in Harry's hands. A silver nimbus of energy surrounded the wand as it once again attempted to make what was thought impossible possible. Then, as if it were merely a cocoon, the wood began to peel away and reveal shiny metal underneath.

What once was a simple wand had now become a gleaming broad sword. Harry silently thanked Matt and Hermione for discovering the trick as the wyvern gave him an icy glare. Fighting back the psychic backlash caused by the difficulty of the spell and loss of blood, Harry brought the hilt of the blade to the left side of his hips. It was a stance that he had seen Matt use in a sparring match with Professor Snape and he hoped that it would produce the same results as it had for him.

With a machismo-laced snarl, Harry made a mad dash for the wyvern, sidestepping and leaping over any attacks that the creature threw at him. The wyvern, spurned by its own bloodlust, refused to fly out of Harry's range, seemingly determined to burn the boy where he stood. As soon as Harry had come within five feet of it, the wyvern spat yet another steady stream of fire at him. However, before it could react properly, Harry somersaulted over the lethal attack and plunged the sword into the creatures' scaly chest.

The wyvern literally squawked as the sharp weapon ran through its chest cavity like a hot knife through butter, the combination of Harry's strength and the magical energy within the "sword" proving too much for even the wyvern's formidable defenses. The ferocious creature violently struggled to free himself from the sword, only causing more damage to itself as the sword's owner refused to budge. The wyvern's black blood spilt onto the dry grass of the Quidditch pitch as the life began to drain away from it. A harsh screech of pain and frustration rose from the wyvern's lungs, causing Harry to wince for the slightest moment, which was all the wyvern needed.

With its dying breath, the wyvern spat another ball of fire at its slayer. The fireball glanced off the right side of Harry's face causing the young man to howl in agony. The young man with the lightning-bolt shaped scar could just make out a bloody grin on the wyvern's face, causing a wave of anger and pain to bubble within Harry's very soul.

With an incoherent yell, Harry yanked the sword from the wyvern's chest and gave the creature a violent lash with the blade, cutting the creature's head clear off its' neck.

'This is almost too easy,' Matt thought with a huge grin as he raced through the corridors with awe-inspiring speed.

Indeed, the Ravenclaw was making excellent time as he navigated through the insanely complex structure of the forest maze. The combination of his impressive use of the Four-Point spell, his athleticism, and his desire to help his friend allowed him to travel through the maze as if he were born there. Thus far, he had only run into one slight problem within the maze; a vertigo trap that made everything seem upside down in his own eyes. Once his brain was able to convince his eyes that it was physically impossible to be in outer space, he was able to surpass the test with minimal difficulty.

Matt hustled by the unconscious form of a blast-ended skrewt as he neared closer and closer to the halfway point of the maze. The placement of the burns and wounds on the skrewt's sturdy hide indicated the work of a person who was unfamiliar in the field of battle. While Matt pondered between whether it was Cedric or Fleur who did this to the ferocious creature, the skrewt began to stir from its momentary slumber, prompting Matt to exit the room without any further conflict. After putting quite a distance between him and the skrewts, Matt activated the Four-Point spell once again, enabling his wand to lead the way through the maze.

After twenty minutes of running through the forest maze, Matt had grown a bit bored with the rather bland environment of the forest maze. Sure, there seemed to be plenty of traps and magical creatures to keep most people entertained, but the dank forest greens and the seemingly never- ending passageways just seemed to irritate him.

Thus, you can imagine Matt's surprise when he was met by the enormous form of Macnair as he rounded another corner. His cold, icy blue eyes flashed with hatred as he hefted his double-bladed battle-axe from his massive shoulders, preparing to sink the monstrosity into Matt's flesh.

Matt's fear prevented him from realizing that it made little to no sense that Macnair would be in the forest maze. After the incident at New Years' Eve, Dumbledore's defenses around Hogwarts had been updated so that even the most gifted of spies would have a great deal of difficulty getting even close to the hallowed grounds. Considering that it was Macnair himself that brought upon this need for tighter security regulations, the possibility of Macnair remaining unseen to the point where he could actively interfere with the Triwizard tournament itself was damn near laughable. However, as much as his mind screamed at him that it made no sense, the bristling form of the executioner provided him all the confirmation he needed to attack.

"Stupefy!" Matt shouted as a large ball of red light shot from his wand. Although he had enhanced his skill at magic a great deal since his last fight with Voldemort's most-trusted subordinate, he was quite aware that the spell may not do a bit of good. The spell was, at best, a way to gauge his own capabilities, to test if he could stand up to someone he felt was a horrible force of nature.

However, instead of blocking the spell with his battle-axe or simply letting the hex bounce off his muscular body, the blonde-haired slaughterer leaped aside in a manner that was so desperate it was almost comical. The maneuver was about as un-Macnair like as they came and Matt sighed in both exasperation and relief as his eyes finally caught up to his brain.

"Riddikulus!" Matt cried as the boggart shakily rose to its' feet. There was a loud crack, almost like the snap of a dry whip, and the shape- shifter faded from sight with a simple poof of smoke. As Matt breathed in the tiniest portion of the boggart's remains, he thought back to the start of his third year, when Professor Lupin brought a boggart to the classroom. Matt had disposed of it in such a creative fashion that the memory would always cause him to grin no matter what his mood. Now, however, 21 months had passed and quite a few things had changed. The once merry prankster with nary a care in the world was becoming a man, a man with responsibilities and goals rather than wishes and dreams. The young man was still there, but the stronger, more serious side of him took more and more of him in every day.

'Another test completed,' Matt thought pensively as he dashed forward to catch up with his friend. 'Although hardly with flying colors.'

Harry grunted laboriously as another searing jolt of pain rose from his gut. The Gryffindor was quite fortunate that no bones were broken, although it took quite a bit of energy to stop his bleeding and wrap the wound. Not only did the effort take energy, it took precious time. Any infantile dream of hoisting the Triwizard cup in victory was taken away the moment Harry had first stumbled from the wyvern's headless corpse.

However, Harry's despondence over the Triwizard tournament was quickly alleviated by a much more important fact. He had beaten Voldemort once again. The wave of relief almost seemed to wash over him as he made his way through the last portion of the maze with a slow stumble. All he needed to do was wait until one of his opponents seized the cup and he could leave this blasted hellhole. There wouldn't be any shame in losing for Harry nor did he honestly need the 1,000-galleon prize money. The Triwizard tournament had already given him enough memories and experiences, both good and bad, that he would remember until his dying days. He had made new friends, new enemies, and learned quite a bit about himself along the way.

'All in all,' Harry pondered as he cast another healing charm on his battered torso, 'not too bad of a year.'

Harry's thoughts about the Triwizard tournament changed quite quickly when he turned the corner and saw the Triwizard cup. The so-called "Goblet of Fire" had apparently been placed under a Reducio charm, seeing as how it was much smaller than it was the day it pulled Harry Potter's name from its depths and sent his world upside down. The gleaming chalice was giving off a dull glow within the lowlights of the forest maze as it sat on a humble, wooden plinth just eighty yards from where he was standing. Harry's haggard face soon split into a childlike grin as he started to walk as fast as his tired body could take him, the dreams of a fantastic victory dancing in his head once again.

Harry's juvenile hopes were once again dashed as another figure emerged from a side pathway twenty yards ahead from him. The dark brown hair and the long legs immediately told Harry that it was Cedric Diggory. The Hufflepuff had a fair number of singes on his robes, no doubt from a battle with one of the maze's blast-ended skrewts, but he still looked to be in far better shape than Harry as he dashed for the cup. Cedric was getting closer and closer to the prize with every second as Harry began to slow down, choosing to conserve his energy.

Both Harry and Diggory noticed a dark figure descending from the top of the forest maze and landing on the floor with the grace of an alley cat. Cedric was quite reluctant to come to a halt as the hooded figure blocked his path to the Triwizard cup, causing the normally even-tempered young man to develop an irritated look.

"Who the hell are you?" Diggory asked with a bit of a snarl.

The veiled man did not respond, choosing instead to slowly remove the hood of the robe to reveal the soulless gaze of Viktor Krum. The champion of Durmstrang held his wand out at Cedric without a trace of emotion. It was Krum's eyes that frightened Harry the most. The dark, lurid pools now seemed hollow and indistinct, as if they were the eyes of a wooden doll. What made Krum's countenance even worse was the near ecstatic grin on his face. It was the same smile that Harry saw at the Triwizard Cup as Krum held the struggling Golden Snitch in his hands, the smile that Viktor would have on his face whenever he took flight and reveled in the world he truly belonged in. The harrowing combination of the empty gaze and the thorough smile only meant one thing.

"He's under the Imperious Curse, Cedric!" Harry yelled as his slow stumbling turned into a brisk walk, the pain and nausea from his wounds momentarily forgotten. "Look out!" Cedric turned to his fellow Hogwarts champion with a look of utter confusion and surprise. It was all the distraction that the afflicted Krum needed.

"Crucio!"

The sound of Cedric's screams pierced Harry's heart like shards of broken glass. Cedric covered his strained face with his hands, his long fingers tensed to a painful degree as the Cruciatus Curse worked his pain receptors to the limit. The look on Krum's face remained the same as he slowly began to increase the force behind the Unforgivable curse.

Harry, who surprised himself by being as calm as he was, grunted as he quickened his pace and collided with the Bulgarian Quidditch star with a flying tackle.

"If it's not one thing, it's another," Harry murmured as he prepared to do battle with a hypnotized Viktor Krum.

Matt nearly tripped over the fallen form of Fleur Delacour as he continued his mad dash through the forest maze. A slight trickle of blood was sliding down the half-veela's forehead as Matt gently laid her down on her back to give her a close examination. The magical burn just above her breasts indicated that she had been hit with a Stupefy spell. Biting back the urge to "examine" the wound, Matt was relieved to find that the Beauxbatons champion was only unconscious. Her chest rose up and down slowly as her lungs unconsciously kept her alive.

"Damn that Moody," Matt grumbled as he tenderly lifted Fleur off the ground in order to find a good spot to hide her from the other denizens of the forest maze.

"Don't you worry Fleur," Matt said as he nestled his friend into a small corner away from the vast area that Matt had found her in, "I'll get him for betraying Dumbledore, for doing this to you, and, oh hell, I'll just get him on general principle!".

The newest Marauder then removed his cloak, hastily bundled it, and placed it just underneath Fleur's head. Once he was confident that Fleur was as secure and safe as possible under the circumstances, Matt pointed his wand to the sky and shot off a flurry of red sparks. One of the teachers would undoubtedly zero in on Fleur's location and take her from the maze. Then, with a conciliatory nod to his fallen friend, Matt dashed off back into the chamber where he had found Fleur. There was no time to wait for the help to arrive, he had another friend that needed his help even more.

A horrifyingly loud roar from the northwest passageway came through the corridor. It was so loud that it caused Matt's eardrums to quiver in strain. Matt froze in his tracks for the second time since he had entered the maze as he took in the sound of approaching footsteps that were far too heavy for any human to make. It seemed that Matt's worries that Fleur would have been in danger from the other denizens of the dungeon were not without merit as a hideous creature stalked into the corridor.

Matt nearly whistled in admiration as he identified the monstrosity as one of Hagrid's Blast-Ended skrewts. It was not just any skrewt, however, it was the same one that Matt had used to set Rita Skeeter on fire so many months ago. Back then, it was easily the largest and most vicious of the skrewts and, judging from the look in its angry eyes, very little had changed. The skrewt was at least twelve feet long, its entire body encased in natural body armor that could deflect sub-machine gun bullets. Its entire lower body seemed to be covered in spikes, each one coated with a poison secreted from the skrewt's body that could send even the strongest wizard into delirium and shock. A long, spiked tail completed the frightening visage, the lethal appendage sliding through the thin grass of the Quidditch pitch like a snake on the hunt for food.

"Any chance we can talk about this?" Matt said lightly, his arms crossed in a manner that he hoped look nonchalant.

The skrewt responded with mighty swipe of its tail, the impossibly sharp point at the end aimed for Matt's heart. Matt performed a back flip that sent him soaring over the attack and closer to the creature's flank. The skrewt turned its mashed face to meet Matt's eyes and shot a ball of fire from its mouth and swung its tail back for a two-pronged assault. However, a back handspring sent Matt out of range from the tail, giving him enough time to erect a force field to deflect the fireball back at the skrewt, whose magical armor simply snuffed it out.

While the skrewt continued to attempt to turn Matt into a charring cinder, the Ravenclaw would fire a Forcis hex every now and then to perturb the creature, although its sturdy biological armor deflected all of Matt's attacks with little trouble. Matt's first priority was to stay out of range of the skrewt's tail in the hopes that the creature would "blast-off" to get closer to him. If the creature did so, it would leave open its small underbelly that was unprotected by body armor, giving Matt the chance to end the fight as quickly as he could. However, it didn't seem that the skrewt was buying what Matt had to sell, choosing instead to take its time and hope that its fire attacks would bring down its prey.

After a good three minutes of this ineffectual game of shot and counter shot, Matt decided to take a risk. The more time he spent here gave him less time to chase down Harry and get to the Triwizard cup. He had no idea where Moody's Portkey would lead to, but he was certain that it wasn't anywhere where Harry should be. Thus, after dodging another round of fireballs, Matt ran straight for the creature's face as fast as he could go. What he was about to plan was arguably the stupidest thing he had ever thought of, but it was the only plan he could think of.

The skrewt, still unable to use its' tail on Matt, shot another steady stream of fireballs at him. Some of them bounced off of Matt's weakening shield charm while most of them Matt evaded with his fancy footwork. Several agonizing seconds of Matt's suicidal strike brought him within ten feet of the creature, which put him well into the range of the skrewt's vicious tail. However, just as Matt was about to be hit by something that would tear a brick wall into pieces, he pointed his wand to the ground, stretching his arm backwards.

"Forcis!" Matt cried as he sent a fully charged force push just inches behind where he was standing. However, instead of fighting the physical backlash that came with the spell, he let the physical energy carry him, causing to soar through the air. As Matt essentially bounded over the creature, he made a short prayer that he wouldn't land in the creature's bed of spikes as he flew a good twenty feet up, traversing over the skrewt in a manner that would make any long jumper green with envy. As the inevitable force of gravity seized hold of him and began to send him back down to earth, Matt now had to make efforts to prevent from snapping his legs when he hit the floor. He brought the wand to his own heart, waiting for just the right time. If he cast the spell too soon, he would most likely be turned into a pincushion by the spikes on the skrewt's back. If he cast the spell too late, it would give the creature enough time to turn around, thus making the entire effort for nothing.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

The spell mercifully took hold of Matt about six feet above the ground, causing his once falling form to float in the air like a puppet on its strings. He broke the Levitation charm as quickly as he could, causing him to fall to the ground in a far more graceful fashion than before. Before the skrewt could turn around, Matt made a quick dash towards the approximate point where the skrewt's tail met with the rest of his body. It was the skrewt's "Achilles heel," in a matter of speaking, a fact that would only be known by someone who knew the anatomy of a skrewt inside and out. Matt didn't even bother to fight against the irony of the whole situation as he transfigured his wand into a gleaming sword and messily severed the skrewt's tail, causing the monster to shriek in pain. Like most creatures that wanted to alleviate their pain as quickly as possible, the skrewt crashed to the floor on its hind legs, leaving its underbelly wide open. Matt, now covered in sheen of sweat from his exertion, made a mad dash for the creature's front before the skrewt could respond. Summoning whatever psychic energy he could must on such short notice, Matt focused the power back into his wand.

"Forcis!"

The white bolt of energy caused the lower chamber's of the skrewt's heart to collapse from the pressure. The skrewt's body armor now worked against it, as the spell rebounded off its vertebrae and careened into its abdomen. Blood poured from the two gaping holes in the skrewt's underbelly as it let out a piteous howl as the strength in its hind legs gave out. The dying skrewt teetered backwards a bit before making its slow fall forwards. It seemed that the entire maze shook as the skrewt hit the ground, a slight stream of black blood seeping underneath the creature's punctured chest.

The entire gruesome process, from the start of Matt's forward dash to the bloody end result, took no more than twenty seconds.

Matt felt he wanted to keel over and collapse, his own adrenaline the only thing keeping him standing after the immense mental excursion he had just endured. He tried to persuade his body to keep going as he ran out of the large room through the same passageway that the skrewt had come in from, his speed now stemming from his desperation rather than his physical ability. He had just used his knowledge of magical creatures, the knowledge that made him feel special and unique from so many others, to kill something that he once fed and nurtured. Something that he cared for.

Matt wondered if he would ever look at an animal the same way again.

"Krum!"

Harry leaped over another Avada Kedavra curse, slowly moving closer and closer to the spellbound Quidditch star.

"You've got to fight this!"

Another Avada Kedavra. This one flying just inches above Harry's head.

"Don't let Moody control you!"

A third shot. Harry leaped to the side to dodge it. The sheer force of the spell caused Harry's robes to ripple and ruffle as the curse flew past him. Harry didn't think that any amount of verbal convincing would break his friend out of the Imperious Curse, but he'd be damned if he didn't at least try something. It was obvious that Moody cared very little whether Krum lived or died from the curse, judging from Krum's efforts to stop Harry. The sheer mental energy needed to cast a single Avada Kedavra, let alone three, could strain even the most gifted witch or wizard. The fact that Krum had most likely never cast such a complex spell before didn't help things either. If Harry didn't take Krum out of the Imperious curse, no matter what the means, Krum could suffer a stroke or cause his overactive neurons to "flash fry" his own brain. Krum would be another dead body on Harry's hands, on Harry's conscience.

Cedric, on the other hand, watched the entire spectacle, not even moving a muscle. Harry wasn't certain whether Diggory was still recovering from the Cruciatus curse or his own fear, but it was a moot point at best. He wasn't expecting the Hufflepuff's help nor did he honestly want it. Part of this was out of his responsibility towards Viktor, but another part of it, far darker than Harry honestly wished to consider, was his own jealousy. Cedric Diggory had the one thing that Harry wanted more than anything: a loving family. A family that would look at him with snide and superior looks whenever he came across them. Amos Diggory thought that Harry was stealing Cedric's thunder, constantly crowing that his son would beat the legendary Harry Potter. Harry didn't view himself as a legend, he just wanted to be cared for, to be appreciated.

And Cedric had Cho.

Cho Chang, the young woman that had Harry's heart caught in her hands from the moment Harry laid eyes on her. Her exotic features made her look like something out of a fashion magazine and her rich, throaty laugh was like the richest symphony to Harry's ears. But Cedric had taken her from him, taken Cho's affections that were rightfully his. For the slightest moment, Harry pondered why he even bothered to save Cedric. With Diggory out of the way, perhaps he could win Cho's affections! Pry the joy and love that seemed to surround Cedric and draw it over to him!

But then Harry thought of a mischievous Ravenclaw with hazel eyes and wavy brown hair who could make Harry laugh so hard that he'd shed tears. He thought of a lanky, red head who seemed to need so much but only wanted to be Harry's friend. There was a jolly fellow with matted black hair who risked his own freedom so that Harry would be safe and happy, a man who wanted to be the father that Harry never had.

And there was a girl. A vision of pale skin, bushy brown hair, and eyes filled with compassion and caring. She wasn't beautiful, she didn't have the charming good looks of Fleur or Cho or the tomboyish energy of Katie or Angelina, but so many things about her: her wry wit, her intelligence, her pig-headed impatience, and her unrelenting will to succeed seemed to make her more stunning than any other woman he had ever met. He didn't think he'd ever muster up the courage to tell her these things, but just standing side by side with her filled Harry with happiness and spirit.

Harry knew he had a family, he had happiness, and he had love.

And neither Cedric Diggory or Viktor Krum should be robbed of such beautiful things.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted, his wand pointed squarely at Krum. Krum's black-oak wand slipped from his sturdy grasp and soared into Harry's outstretched hand. With his instrument of destruction taken away, Krum momentarily stood as still as a statue. It was simply for Moody to instruct Viktor to kill Cedric and Harry with his wand, it was another matter altogether to subdue them with Krum's two hands. Hand-to-hand combat, particularly with someone as skilled in the field as Harry, required subtle and constant manipulation of the possessed body, something that Moody could apparently not supply. Taking Krum's wand into his left hand, Harry leapt to face Krum, who almost appeared to be dead on his feet. Harry murmured an incantation into Viktor's wand, which caused it to emit a purplish vapor that Viktor's lungs quickly and involuntarily breathed in. Harry then pointed his own wand straight at Krum's forehead.

"Enervio!" Harry cried as his wand gave off a faint yellow pulse that caused the entranced Quidditch star to collapse. Much to Harry's relief, the two spells accomplished what one of them could not. The gentle sleeping vapor allowed Krum to reach a somewhat peaceful comatose state while the Enervio spell removed the effects of the Imperious curse from Krum's addled brain with no further internal damage. Krum would be laid up in the hospital for a couple days, but Harry sincerely doubted that Krum would have any real knowledge of what happened here.

Cedric Diggory, however, was another matter.

"I thought he was all right," Cedric murmured shakily as he slowly rose up from the ground. "I thought he was all right."

"Relax, Cedric." Harry said as he continued to inspect Krum. "Someone placed him under the Imperious curse. He didn't do this willingly."

"The Imperious curse," Cedric whispered, his face paling even further to make him nearly as white as a sheet. "Did you kill him?"

"No," Harry barked, fighting back the wave of irritation. "He's just stunned. Send up a flare while I put him a safe place."

"Point Me, you blasted stick!" Matt said as he shook his wand in frustration. "POINT ME!"

The Four-Point Spell caused the wand to spin and pointed northward once again to a passageway on Matt's left hand side. Hastily wiping away the accumulating sweat on his hairline, Matt burst off in that direction. It had been 27 minutes since he had entered the maze and he honestly didn't know how much longer it would take to get to the Triwizard Cup. He wasn't even certain if Harry, Cedric, or Viktor had even gotten to it yet.

There were quite a few unanswered questions, but taking the time to answer them would be taking time that Matt didn't have.

"Point Me!" Matt grunted as his wand spun around again on his flat left hand.

"Well," Harry said casually, as he leaned on the hedge that Krum's fallen body was now resting against. "There it is."

"Yeah," Cedric mumbled, visibly battling himself and his desire to grab the cup and claim victory. Harry honestly didn't know what Cedric was waiting for.

"Hurry up and take it, then," Harry said with exhaustion. "I want to get out of here."

Cedric remained rooted to the spot. A good minute passed as Cedric stared from Harry, to the cup, and then back to Harry again.

"You're hurt," Cedric said with a tinge of worry, indicating the bloody wound on Harry's chest and the burns on his face.

"I've felt worse," Harry said truthfully, ignoring another jolt of pain from his gut. Cedric didn't seem to take much comfort in Harry's casual response, visibly wincing at the blood-soaked bandage made from a torn portion of Harry's own cloak. Cedric once again stared at the cup longingly, the goal of many months of training now before his shining, gray eyes. The Hufflepuff let out a deep breath before turning back to Harry.

"You take it."

"Say what?" Harry asked.

"You just saved my neck," Cedric said with a combination of strain and calmness. "You're the rightful champion. You take it." Harry gave a bitter laugh at Cedric's sudden generosity.

"That's not how it's supposed to work," Harry said flatly. "It's the one who reaches the cup that gets the points. You got there first. You're the rightful winner."

"But. . Krum. . ."

"The person who hypnotized Krum was after me," Harry said dully, now biting back his irritation. "You were the first to make it past the traps that Dumbledore and the others had sent. If it wasn't for Krum, I wouldn't have gotten even close to the cup." It took quite an effort to hide the fact that what truly stopped Harry was something that the Triwizard committee did not place in the maze, but Harry weathered it. Harry wanted nothing more than to get out of this horrible place and eat some food, take a long bath in the Prefects bathroom, and get some rest. Heaven knows he deserved it. Unfortunately, the kindly Hufflepuff across from him didn't know that.

"No," Cedric said. Harry could visibly see Cedric's resolve crumbling before his tired, emerald eyes. The aggravated and impatient scowl on Harry's face was now clearly evident.

"Whaddaya mean no! Take the blasted cup!"

"Go on," Cedric said firmly. The prefect's face was set and stern, his arms harshly folded around his chest. Harry could see the frustration and conflict boiling inside Cedric's head, he could see just how much Cedric was willing to sacrifice his own glory to repay his debt to him. It was the most blasted endearing thing that Harry had ever witnessed. Cedric was essentially turning his back on an achievement that would bring honor and glory to his family name for hundreds of years. It was the most endearing thing that Harry had ever witnessed.

With a slow stumble, Harry walked up the short stairway to the plinth that was holding the Goblet of Fire. The visions of victory and pride nearly caused his heart to swell as his left hand reached closer and closer to it. Then, just as Harry was about to do something that he could tell his grandchildren about, something that would turn him from a child legend to a proud young man, he realized something.

He couldn't do it either.

"Both of us," Harry said.

"What?"

"We both take the cup at the same time," Harry said, stunned by his own excellent idea. "We'll make it a Hogwarts victory."

Cedric could hardly believe his ears.

"You. . . you're sure about this?" Harry turned to Cedric and firmly nodded his head.

"It's the only right thing to do," Harry said with a slight grin. "I don't want one-half of Hogwarts loving me and the other half hating me. Know what I'm saying?"

Even the dirt and ash on Cedric's face couldn't hide the glowing smile on his face. "Yeah," Cedric said slowly, "I'm getting tired of getting the evil eye from the Gryffindors." Both Harry and Cedric, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, chuckled at their mutual struggles as Cedric nearly skipped up to the steps leading to the plinth. Within moments, Cedric stood side-by- side with Harry, both of the Hogwarts champions looking at the Goblet of Fire with wide eyes.

"On three?" Harry asked.

"On three," Cedric replied. "One. . . two. . . three."

"HARRY! CEDRIC! DON'T!" Matt screamed as he emerged from the same passageway that Cedric had come from. Both of the champions turned to Matt with a worried glance just as they both grasped a handle. The goblet glowed white as the effects of the Portkey took a hold of them Whatever remained of Harry and Cedric's physical bodies inside the forest maze tried to pry their hands from it but to no avail. Seconds later, there was no trace of them at all.

"Dammit!" Matt yelled as he pointed his wand at the plinth and braced himself for his next arduous task. "Temporal summonis!"

Matt's already worn wand glowed purple as whatever temporal energies which remained from the Portkey's magic began to collect and form. Using every ounce of energy Matt had left, he kept his wand pointed at the focal point of the portal, not wavering in the spell for the slightest moment. Without a second thought, Matt dived into the nexus, the temporal energies from the Portkey enveloping him just as the portal collapsed on itself.

Matt landed flat on his face, every muscle of his body complaining loudly at him to stop his ceaseless straining. Before he could even bother to move, Cedric had carefully grasped the scruff of Matt's robes and lifted him to his feet. Matt gave him a slight nod of thanks as he spat a small wad of black soil onto the ground.

"What's going on, Matt?" Harry asked, his wand at the ready and his eyes glaring into the darkness. Matt, the physical wear and tear finally beginning to show on his features, went into a coughing fit and almost fell down to his knees in exhaustion.

"It's Moody!" Matt gasped, his left hand clutching his heart. "Moody's the traitor! He replaced the Goblet of Fire with a Portkey to bring you here! It's a-"

"Kill the spares," a high, cold voice said.

"Trap. . ." Matt mumbled as a blast of green light blazed towards him.

Man! It's been a while since I've wrote any action! Thought I may have lost my touch!

Once again, I'd like to thank my readers and reviewers. I apologize that it's taken so long to update and I hope I haven't disappointed you with this. As for the inclusion of another cliffhanger, well, it's what we writers do (laughs maliciously).

On a side note, one of my reviewers said that he was going to look for any other Harry Potter stories. Seeing as how that there isn't any other stories, I might as well tell all of you what I plan to do once this cute little novel is completed. I don't plan on to start writing the fifth-year installment until about February (although I've got the basic schematic for the plot in my head already). I'm one of those writers that like to focus on one project at a time so I don't get distracted. I'm planning on writing two novellas before then. One of them is going to have Harry, Hermione, and Matt travel to Durmstrang to deal with the fall out of Igor Karkaroff's departure while the other will be a crossover piece that will have our three lovable Marauders team up with some very underused characters in the fan fiction universe (No, I'm not saying who! Where's the fun in that?). I also plan on writing an outtake reel of "Harry Potter and The Scholar of Mystery". It's been a long time since I've done a strictly humor piece and ideas about it have been popping in my head ever since I finished the first chapter. I've also got plans for a fictional "web chat" with Harry, Hermione, and Matt along with a special guest and a possible series of MSTies starring the new Marauders along with a very unfortunate Peter Pettigrew. Of course, whether I get to these side adventures or not is another story, but do plan on seeing some more stuff from me very soon after this saga comes to a close. Speaking about the saga, how about the next chapter preview. . .

It looks like Cedric, Harry, and Matt are in the fight of their lives as the three of them attempt to prevent the revival of the greatest threat to the wizarding world in five centuries. But will there efforts all be for naught? And what about Hermione and Alastor Moody? Will Moony be able to catch up with the traitorous Auror? Get ready for a fight! Matt against Macnair, Hermione against Moody, and Harry against Voldemort himself in the thirteenth installment of Harry Potter and The Scholar of Mystery. . . A Dark Revival. Don't miss it!