"They're back! Maïa! They're back!" Tori shouted, despite the fact that Hermione was standing two feet away and could see Harry, Violet, and the Weasley twin racing out of the trees as easily as she could.
Thank God... Finally!
Hermione's relief was short-lived, however. A bare three seconds behind Harry — who was bringing up the rear, holding a shield while Violet and the redhead threw tripping hexes and disarming charms behind themselves blindly — a red-shirt broke the tree line in hot pursuit. He had to be human, a veela would be flying, she would think — maybe the guard from Beauxbatons's hill? If he'd noticed that their flag was gone, he might have realised there was no reason for him to stay there anymore...
The guard was good, dodging the jinxes and focusing on breaking up the terrain ahead of the Hogwarts trio, slowing them down rather than trying to curse them directly. He was actually managing to close the gap, but he didn't seem to realise that he'd come within spell-range of the Fort.
"Neville!" Hermione shouted, intending to tell him to throw anything he could at the red-shirted bastard, but he was already casting a chain of quick, two-syllable dueling spells and schoolyard jinxes. None of them were very powerful, but none of them needed to be. A tripping jinx caught the boy, throwing him to the ground and giving Hermione enough time to aim a stunning spell at him properly. He didn't get up.
After a few seconds, the fleeing trio seemed to realise that, their own mad dash slowing to a jog, and then an exhausted, staggering walk, especially on the part of Harry — who was presumably injured, or at least suffering the after-effects of healing whatever injuries he'd gotten running into that tree — and Violet, who spent most of her time in the Hospital Wing, not engaging in strenuous physical activities.
"Can we go out and meet them? Please?" Astoria begged.
Hermione sighed. "I suppose we might as well."
"Yay!" She darted over to the palisade and down the ladder they'd left (on the assumption that Harry and company would need to get back in, and it wasn't as though they had hordes of enemies surrounding them at the moment) almost before the words left Hermione's lips, the sparkling crown glittering on her head, because if you don't want it, Maïa, I think I've earned it!
She did stop and wait for them, though, once she was safely out of range of the strangling vines. "Ash! Ash! Play something solemn and coronation-y!"
The violinist rolled his eyes. "Just go put the bloody crown on Potter so we can all go home."
"Pleeeease?"
The seventh-year gave a heavy sigh, tucking his instrument under his chin again. "Will this do?" he asked tetchily, dragging the bow across the strings in a long, low note, followed by a much shorter, sharper one. Dunnnn dun. Dunnn dun. Dun dun dun dun—
"Is this the theme song from Jaws?" Hermione asked, more out of disbelief than any real confusion — she was certain that it was...
"No, of course not. It's from Schubert's Unfinished Symphony."
"What's Jaws?" Neville asked, only to be ignored as Tori clapped delightedly. (Hermione was quite certain that since that hadn't been Ryan's question, yes, it was the theme song from Jaws.)
"It's perfect! So dignified!" Astoria skipped away, picking up speed as the tempo increased and practically leaping at Harry, forcing him to catch her as the song reached a crescendo. She was, Hermione thought, lucky he managed it — he looked exhausted — but he did, her momentum spinning them around a bit.
Before they'd fully stopped — as the tension in the air built around a single sustained, almost agonisingly suspenseful note — she plonked the crown on his head with absolutely no ceremony at all.
The suspense broke with the sound of a gong, exactly like the one which had signaled the start of the event. Hermione let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding as she broke into a run herself to drag Harry into a triumphant hug.
"We did it! We did it, Harry! We won!"
He gave her a tired laugh. "See, I told you it'd be fine..."
"What happened to Cedric?"
"We left him fighting a veela," Violet admitted. "Weasley?"
"Uh, yeah... We don't know, we have more important problems at the moment," the boy muttered, clearly even more distracted now than before he'd left to find Harry.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, her celebratory mood instantly deflating.
"Ah...well...you see..."
"Spit it out, Weasley."
"There's...sort of a riot going on in the stands."
Shock and fear washed over her, stomach clenching and cold. She felt light-headed, as though she might throw up. "My mother's up in the stands," she heard herself say, as though from a distance. And then, also as though from a distance, some rational, calculating part of her mind not entirely overcome by panicked fear realised, "I need to find Lyra. We need to— Where is she?"
"Ah...still fighting," he said absently, pointing off almost directly north. "That way."
Hermione ran.
Whoo! It's over! (Except there are still four more scenes, because of course there are.) Go Team Hogwarts! —Leigha