I flicked the test tube carefully, watching its insides through the microscope. How peculiar...
Most known elements had particles that reflected their outward appearance, but not the concoction I had lifted off Fudge, whatever it was. Although the powder was a deep gold on the surface, on a microscopic level, some of its particles glowed so bright that they seemed to be white, while others appeared the deepest black.
The strangest part was how they sparked like fireworks then twinkled out in the blink of an eye, zapping in and out of existence at a dazzling rate.
No matter how many freezing and slowing spells I had tried on the powder, its particles continued to flash and flicker out sporadically, seemingly impervious to time.
"I take it you'll be moving in with Dumbledore at the end of this year then?" a high, matter-of-fact voice called from behind me, jolting me out of my concentration.
I whipped back to see Hermione approaching from across the study, the door closing behind her.
"I would have thought you would be off with boyfriends," I sidestepped her question, looking back down into the microscope. "This could be their last hour to live, after all."
"Not funny," she huffed. "Rita Skeeter is insufferable. Not all of us can be so lucky to have the ministry ban her from writing about us. Ronald won't shut up about it."
I snorted, slanting the vial to the side to see it from a different angle. "I'm sure he won't—"
A slam on the table startled me out of my examination. Covering the potion formulas I had spewed around my work station was a copy of the Daily Prophet: DUMBLEDORE NAMES APPRENTICE. I looked up from the headline to meet Hermione's angry eyes.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded. "You call yourself my friend yet I had to wait two whole weeks with the rest of the world before I find out about the true extent of what went down at that trial. Unless of course there's another article coming out revealing even more I've missed?"
My eyes shot to the vial and back to her. I quickly shook my head.
Hermione sighed. "Why, Marguerite?"
Not knowing what else to do, I shrugged and put the vial under the microscope once more. "I didn't want to talk about it."
"But why not? Aren't you excited?" Hermione pressed. "Don't you want to know why Dumbledore chose you?"
"That's pretty self-explanatory, pissenlit," I sighed. "He was friends with my father. It was papa's last request. "
She was silent for a moment. "You think that's it?"
"I know it is."
"Dumbledore said that?"
"I haven't asked him, but I don't need to," I dismissed brusquely. "Nor do I want to."
Though my gaze pointedly remained trained on the contents of the vial, I could imagine the gears moving through her head as she mulled that over, and right on queue like clockwork she asked:
"Have you been ignoring him?"
I sighed, meeting her curious eyes. "Yes, Hermione. I believe you call it the silent treatment in your country."
"Well…" she pondered. "I suppose that's only natural. You've been through a lot, and it mustn't be easy hearing you've been lied to all these years. I suppose you'll have a lot of time to come to terms with it and grow more comfortable with him."
"I will sleep sound with that in mind."
She laughed, pulling over a stool next to my worktable. We were in one of the potions labs that I had asked Snape to use under the guise of an extra credit project. I wondered how Hermione even found me. One thing I had learned is that Gryffindors didn't often come to the dungeons willingly.
"I'll be able to sleep sound when this ghastly competition is over."
"Well if it helps, at least you know that'll be tonight, one way or another," I offered.
"Yes, I suppose," she said in a deflated sort of way that told me it didn't help at all. We sat quietly for the better part of the hour, Hermione watching on as I fussed around with the powder, dissecting it and studying its contents piece by piece.
I knew she was probably extremely nervous not just for Krum, who was now known all over the world as her first boyfriend thanks to Skeeter, but even more so for Harry, who had been one of her only friends throughout their Hogwarts journeys the past 4 years. I sympathized with her, I really did. Especially since I found myself worrying about the same person.
But what were we to do? It sucked being on the sidelines as the person you loved was put into harm's way, but there was nothing to be done about it.
Except bite the bullet and wait.
In all truth, that's why I really found myself down here fiddling around with the powder just minutes before the third task. Not out of a lack of care, but rather an overwhelming amount. With all this restless energy, I needed something to do, and the powder was practically the only way I could actively help Harry at this point.
"I suppose we should get going," Hermione finally said.
I frowned down at my watch. Only ten minutes before the task began. "I suppose we should."
If I had thought the first two tasks had been daunting, it was nothing compared to this. The entire quidditch field, extending into Hogwarts' spooky forest, had been converted into an enormous maze. The fog in the sky clung to it, shrouding it eerily. Each green wall stood proudly, cloaked in equal parts beauty and terror.
I squeezed Fleur's shoulder. The silver-haired beauty was looking rather blue. Although she would never admit it, I could tell a lot of the fight went out of her after seeing her sister nearly die in the second task.
"You've got this," I assured her, looking her dead in the eye. I willed my eyes to say what my tongue could not; you don't need to win this, to hell with this competition. Just get in and out. Stay alive.
I hoped she understood. The way her eyes softened made me think she might have. All she said in reply was, "I know I do."
I patted her back as she walked away.
I glanced over at my brother who was staring intently at Cedric Diggory saying goodbye to Cho Chang. I rolled my eyes. Poor sod was about to face a maze that could lead to his death and still all he could think about was the girl who rejected him for the Yule Ball.
"Harry!" I barked. He jumped and whipped around. "Get your head in the game," I said quietly as I walked closer.
He relaxed a bit when he saw it was me.
"It always is," he said with a weak grin, tapping on the scar on his forehead.
I snorted. "That wasn't funny."
He shrugged unrepentantly. "It was enough to make you laugh."
"At you."
He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, looking out at the maze. He looked scared, though he hid it well. However, the slight blush of his skin indicated possible excitement as well.
"Do you really plan to win this?" I asked, genuinely curious. From what I could tell, most of the contestants were just doing this to get it over with at this point, since they were bound by contract. If I had been part of it, I would have been doing the same.
Harry might have had different plans though, and his defensive shrug told me all I needed to know before he even spoke.
"If the opportunity arises," he said.
I looked at him real hard then glared out at the maze. "Don't do anything stupid," I warned. "Get in and out. Don't hurt anyone and don't tempt fate."
He scoffed, indignant. "Do you really think I would ever hurt anyone else?"
I raised a brow at him, looked back at Cedric. Harry followed my line of sight.
"You tell me," I said.
Harry didn't like that at all, probably because it hit too close to the mark. His eyebrows scrunched up and his face reddened. Something about it was childish—like a young boy caught red-handed.
"Well, I suppose that goes to show you don't know me very well," he spat out. "Which honestly, makes perfect sense, because we only met 6 months ago." That stung a little, but he wasn't wrong. "Thanks for the good luck, but maybe you're better off sticking to your side of the tent.' He jutted his chin toward Fleur, who was speaking to Madame. "You're not Dumbledore's apprentice yet, you know."
I inwardly recoiled at his attack. What was this? Defensiveness? Jealousy? No matter what it was, it still hurt. I pursed my lips.
"For the record, I didn't wish you good luck," I snapped back, knowing I shouldn't make these my last words to him but unable to stop myself. "And who knows? Maybe, next year, this will be my side of the tent." Harry frowned, eyes drifting to Dumbledore who was speaking to Ludo Bagman. "Don't die," I added for good measure.
Without looking back, I took my place beside Madame. Her hand automatically rested on my shoulder as she finished a discussion with Karkaroff, who looked ghastly pale.
"Are you ready, mon papillon?" she asked when she was through, gesturing up to our private box in the stands.
"Lead the way."
I would be lying if I said that the relationship between Madame and I had been the same since the trial. I wasn't angry at her—not exactly—but I wasn't happy either, and I think she knew that. She had lied; there was no way around that. I wasn't going to berate her about it now—the damage had already been done, and I anyway, I understood why she had done it. Like my parents, she probably wanted to ensure that I was truly hers. However, as with my parents, that only caused more pain. I was starting to realize I was most comfortable not belonging to anyone.
I felt like a pampered princess up in our box, sitting high above the rest of the Hogwarts students, looking down on them all. Up here, we had the perfect view of the maze. Not only could we see every twist and turn of the maze, including where the cup sat at its center, but we also had enchanted binoculars to gives us a closer look.
"Hello Ms. Flamel! Great vantage point, eh? It will be like watching a play," the Minister of Magic said as he made himself comfortable on the other side of the box.
I nodded, a bit dazed to think that what would be life or death for my brother would be no more than a distant entertainment for me. It made me feel all at once detached, powerful, and guilty.
"Ms. Flamel," a familiar voice greeted.
I turned around to see the headmaster. "Dumbledore," I reluctantly replied, dipping my head. So much for my silent treatment.
"I saw you talking to the young Mr. Potter in the tent earlier. All encouraging words I hope?"
His eyes held that irritating twinkle that told me he knew the opposite was true.
"As encouraging as he allowed me to be," I deadpanned. "I did ask him not to die."
"Well, that's good enough advice," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "He would do well to take it."
Despite myself, I nearly snorted. "He better," I muttered. I could have sworn I heard the headmaster chuckle as he settled into his seat.
Next to me, unfortunately, sat Karkaroff. He wasn't much of a talker so I set my mind on the field below. Some of the Slytherin Hogwarts students still had that ridiculous pin and posters saying POTTER STINKS and CEDRIC THE TRUE HOGWARTS CHAMPION. It's like they didn't realize this wasn't just a game; people could die. And after hearing the litany of defenses for Triwizard Tournament injuries at my trial, I'm convinced it would be entirely legal with no repercussions. If I had still been worried that Harry's mysterious entry might have been an attempt by one of Voldemort's followers to murder him, that fact did nothing to ease my suspicions—or my nerves, the only evidence of which could be found in my slightly shaking hands that I kept tucked in my pockets.
What further heightened my concern was of course the murder of Barty Crouch. I watched from above as the redheaded form of Percy Weasley leaned in to say something to Ludo Bagman near the tent several stories below. Percy was filling in for his late boss since Crouch's untimely demise. I learned from Hermione that Harry had only been standing feet away with Krum when the man had been killed in the forest that night.
It was clear that if someone was trying to kill Harry in this competition, they were set on playing the long game. My fear was that all their scheming and maneuvers would culminate in today's final task.
I saw McGonagall and a couple of other Hogwarts professors wearing red luminous stars on their hats approach the tent. Moody was among them unfortunately. Ever since the second task, I hated everything about that man—his strange gait alone elicited a visceral reaction, sending my blood pressure spiking.
"Extra security," I heard Dumbledore explain from across the box. "They will be patrolling the perimeter, ready to retrieve them quickly should they fire a red spark in the air."
I forced my trembling hands to still at the thought. How much trouble could they really get into if the professors were on the scene, available to rescue them? Even if said professor was Moody.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" Ludo Bagman's voice boomed out, sending my heart racing anew. "The third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand!" I frowned, remembering that they would enter the maze in order of first to last place. Madame had been furious since it would give Fleur a disadvantage over the others, not realizing that winning was far from both her and my minds at this point. "Tied in first place, with eighty-five points each — Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School!" A roar came from the crowd, much more ferocious than anything they would probably face in there. However, I stayed pointedly silent. I could practically feel the weight of Dumbledore's eyes on me. "In second place, with eighty points — Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!" More applause. "And in third place — Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!" I politely clapped and noticed with some amusement that the loudest cheer for Fleur was coming from a familiar, handsome red-headed man sitting on the Hogwarts side of the crowd—I could only assume the rest of the redheads around him were the other members of the infamously large Weasley clan.
I hoped Fleur heard him as well. She could use the extra encouragement.
"On my whistle, Harry and Cedric!" said Bagman. "Three — two — one —"
With a short blast of his whistle, my brother hurried forward into the maze, and just like that, his final trial had begun. My eyes followed him through the maze as closely as a hawk watches its prey. Even as the other champions joined in, my eyes never left Harry. I was afraid that if I looked away for even one second, I would lose him.
Luckily, Madame narrated everything happening to Fleur out loud, so I didn't miss a thing.
First, I watched as Harry ran in the opposite direction of the center and reached a dead end. It was painful to see him so obliviously take wrong turns until eventually something seemed to click, and he gradually moved closer to the middle of the massive maze. Strangely enough, he didn't face many, if at all challenges, unlike the other champions who were being stopped every couple of feet.
It must have been about fifteen minutes in when he ran into Cedric. I held my breath, thinking back to the conversation we had in the tent earlier. Would he hurt him if given the chance?
But I feared for nothing because Cedric just dove into another path. I released a breath of relief, but it didn't last long when Harry stumbled across his first obstacle a moment later: a dementor—or was it? I saw the silvery light of a patronus, yet the monster didn't sway. When I saw a flash of red light crumble the figure I realized it must have been a bogart.
Interesting. Harry's biggest fear was fear itself—nearly poetic.
A few minutes later, I heard a faint scream and Madame cry out "mon dieu!" with such horror that I ripped my eyes away from Harry for the first time since the competition began.
I was shocked at what I found.
Chasing Fleur around the maze was a relentless Viktor Krum, seemingly hellbent on finding her. Spells and curses flashed in an ugly array of different colors as he fired them one after the other.
I turned toward Madame with wide eyes. "Is this legal?"
"It should not be!" She all but growled, not at me, but at the man sitting next to me—Igor Karkaroff. "What is ze idea 'ere, Karkaroff? Is zis some sort of strategy you advised 'im? To pick off each member one by one?"
The headmaster stared back at her remorselessly. "If it were, it would be perfectly in alignment with the rules."
Just then, Fleur dropped as a red curse was shot at her. I gaped, not understanding what my eyes had seen. Was she dead?
" 'Ow dare you?!" Madame cried, standing up. She leaned over to Karkaroff, getting in his face. I was sure should attack him, and I just might've joined in if Dumbledore didn't step in.
"My dear Madame," he said, moving himself in between the two school leaders. "The shade of red indicates that it was nothing but a standard stupefy. Fleur will be just fine."
"I want 'er out of zere, right now!"
"Yes, yes, of course Madame," Dumbledore assured. "I will have Minerva fetch her right away, and Poppy will provide her with the best medical care if she is injured."
That calmed Madame down enough for her to return to her seat, but not before she spat over her shoulder at Karkaroff, "Your champion is a menace, and 'e deserves to be disqualified from zis competition. Zere should be no glory for a predator."
True to her words, Krum then turned his eyes on Cedric, chasing him in the same fashion he did Fleur. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Sure, dividing and conquering the other champions one by one before they could reach the cup wasn't an awful strategy. I might have even done it myself if I didn't give a damn about anyone in the competition. But to do what Krum was doing, someone had to be genuinely heartless, and unlike Karkaroff, Krum didn't seem like the ruthless, unfeeling type so I didn't understand how he could pull a 180 like this and turn on everyone like it was nothing.
I just prayed Cedric took Krum out before he could come for Harry next. I had a feeling no amount of feelings for Hermione would keep him from finishing the job with Harry if he had already come so far.
Unfortunately, Harry appeared on the scene just as Krum cornered Cedric and threw a particularly nasty curse at him. I couldn't tell what it was, but I assumed it was bad because the light of curse held for a long time.
I watched as Harry stood there for a moment, frozen and looking at the situation that I couldn't fully make out so high in the air. Indecision seemed to pass through him, and I thought back to our conversation; would he let Krum take Cedric out in the hopes that he would win? He paused for what seemed like a lifetime before, with a flash of light, Harry decidedly knocked Krum to the ground.
I smiled, feeling warmth for the first time that day.
"Ha! Your puppet is beat, Karkaroff!" Madame gloated.
"At least he wasn't last, Olympe," Karkaroff snarled.
"Better to finish last than without honor."
I held my breath as Harry faced a giant creature that looked suspiciously like a Sphinx. Coming from someone who had once faced a Sphinx and barely made it out alive, I doubted my brother was clever enough to pass one of their infamous riddles—I just hoped he had enough sense to fire the red sparks if attacked instead of assuming he could handle it on his own.
Unable to help myself anymore, I sprung up from my seat, ignoring the protest of Madame, and ran out of the box, muttering something about needing to use the restroom.
The moment I was out of sight, I transformed.
Within a matter of moments, I was flying past the stadium, above the maze, swooping down when I found Harry, who was still standing next to the Sphinx, presumably working through her riddle. I landed on a hedge right next to him, not that he noticed. He was too busy stumbling through his own words.
" 'The last thing to mend,' " Harry repeated. "Er . . . no idea . . .'middle of middle' . . . could I have the last bit again?"
If I was in human form, I would have covered my face with my hands at that moment.
This Sphinx was extremely well-tempered and seemed to find Harry's rambling amusing. She indulged him, repeating, "And finally give me the sound often heard during the search for a hard-to-find word. Now string them together, and answer me this, which creature would you be unwilling to kiss?"
" 'The sound often heard during the search for a hard-to-find word,' " said Harry. "Er . . . that'd be . . . er . . . hang on — 'er'! Er's a sound!"
The sphinx smiled at him. I took that as a good sign.
"Spy . . . er . . . spy . . . er . . ." said Harry, pacing up and down. "A creature I wouldn't want to kiss . . . a spider!"
The sphinx smiled more broadly. She got up, stretched her front legs, and much to my amazement, she moved aside for him to pass.
"Thanks!" said Harry, visibly impressed at his own accomplishment. He dashed past her.
Relieved and more than a little shocked that he had escaped that obstacle all on his own with no outward intervention, I flew alongside him, happy I could follow him for the rest of the maze now that I was already down there.
The rest of the trial would be a lot shorter than I anticipated since when Harry turned the corner, the Triwizard Cup sat, glittering and spectacular, perched on an ornate stand about 20 feet away.
Unfortunately, Cedric turned a corner to see it at almost the same exact time as us, racing forward to grab the cup at a much faster speed than Harry. It was obvious he would get there first.
However, in the last few steps between Cedric and the cup, a ginormous, monstrous form jumped at Cedric from the side.
"Cedric!" Harry bellowed. "On your left!"
Cedric looked around just in time to hurl himself past the thing and avoid colliding with it, but in his haste, he tripped. Harry saw Cedric's wand fly out of his hand as a gigantic spider stepped into the path and began to bear down upon Cedric.
"Stupefy!" Harry yelled; the spell hit the spider's gigantic, hairy black body, but for all the good it did, he might as well have thrown a stone at it; the spider jerked, scuttled around, and ran at Harry instead.
"Stupefy! Impedimenta! Stupefy!"
But it was no use — the spider was either so large, or so magical, that the spells were doing no more than aggravating it. Harry had one horrifying glimpse of eight shining black eyes and razor-sharp pincers before it was upon him.
Like the heroic idiot that Harry could be at times, he took to kicking the giant spider instead. I heard a sickening crack as the spider's pincers closed on my brother's leg. Quickly flying behind a shrubbery out of Harry's sight, I transformed back to human form, ready to fight.
"Stupefy!" I cast at the same time as Cedric, knocking the spider off Harry.
I knew I messed up when Cedric's eyes found mine. I felt the full weight of his confusion, fear, and anger in that moment. I sent him a silent, pleading look. His jaw squared, and he turned back to the spider as Harry dropped to the ground.
"Harry, together! On the count of three, we'll stun it!" Cedric shouted. His eyes flickered briefly toward me, a request to contribute. "1-2…3!"
At the joint effect of all three of our stunning spells, the spider crumpled, flattening a nearby hedge, and strewing the path with a tangle of hairy legs.
Cedric turned back toward me and opened his mouth, but I transformed back into a butterfly before he could even utter a word. He blinked a couple of times before turning back to Harry who lay twisted on the floor.
"Harry!" Cedric rushed over to him. "You alright? Did it fall on you?"
"No," Harry groaned. I flew over, and landed on the ground next to his leg. The blood gushing out of it made it clear that he was anything but 'alright.'
Harry then looked up at Cedric, suddenly angry. His eyes traversed back and forth between the Hufflepuff and the cup, which was a couple of feet behind the older boy.
"Take it, then," Harry panted to Cedric. "Go on, take it. You're there."
Cedric didn't move.
What happened next shocked me.
"You take it. You should win. That's twice you've saved my neck in here."
Was Cedric thick? I looked at the resolution on his face and realized with dawning respect that this might have been the noblest person I had ever met.
"That's not how it's supposed to work," Harry protested. "The one who reaches the cup first gets the points. That's you. I'm telling you, I'm not going to win any races on this leg."
What proceeded was an argument that I couldn't decide was sweet or pathetic.
"No," Cedric said stubbornly.
"Stop being noble," said Harry irritably. "Just take it, then we can get out of here."
"You told me about the dragons," Cedric said. "I would've gone down in the first task if you hadn't told me what was coming."
"I had help on that too," Harry snapped, trying to mop up his bloody leg with his robes. "You helped me with the egg — we're square."
"I had help on the egg in the first place," said Cedric.
"We're still square," said Harry.
"You should've got more points on the second task," said Cedric. "You stayed behind to get all the hostages. I should've done that."
"I was the only one who was thick enough to take that song seriously!" said Harry bitterly. "Just take the cup!"
"No," said Cedric.
I nearly laughed at the aggravated look on my brother's face. I couldn't imagine how much this must have been killing him: he's been so desperately wanting to beat Cedric in order to win the school's approval and Cho's love, and now Cedric was handing him the win out of the goodness of his heart. Even if Harry did win at this point, it would be a pity-win. That was almost as bad as losing.
Almost. But not quite.
Which is why I wasn't awfully surprised when my brother came up with the bright idea: "Both of us," Harry proposed.
"What?"
"We'll take it at the same time. It's still a Hogwarts victory. We'll tie for it."
Cedric stared at Harry. He unfolded his arms.
"You — you sure?"
"Yeah," said Harry. "Yeah . . . we've helped each other out, haven't we? We both got here. Let's just take it together."
For a moment, Cedric looked as though he couldn't believe his ears; then his face split in a grin.
"You're on," he said. "Come here."
He grabbed Harry's arm and helped him up, practically carrying him to the cup. I stayed put not wanting to interrupt this monumental moment for them.
"On three, right?" said Harry. "One — two — three —"
He and Cedric both grasped a handle, and that's when all hell broke loose.