Chapter 16:

Oliver didn't know he had blacked out. He just thought all the pain went away. But sure enough he awoke to a blinding white light. For a moment he thought he was dead, till he saw the light was connected to a ceiling fan. He tried to move, get up, raise his head, anything, but he couldn't. Apparently the pain was more severe than he'd originally thought.

"Oh you're awake," came the sound of a rather aggravated woman. Oliver knew that voice well. Madam Pomfrey, the head healer at Hogwarts. Oliver had seen her many times during his years at school. He was injured a lot while playing Quidditch. "Its about time, maybe when Professor Dumbledore comes back, you can explain your theatrical warning to him."

"Gets back?" Dread filled the young man. "Where is he?"

"Out on the Quidditch field. It's the final Task today. 'Course you'd know that if you didn't hog my bed for the last three days."

"Sorry I've been such a burden," then something struck him. "Three days? I've been out for three days?"

"Three long days."

"What about my mother? What's happened to her?"

"Its alright boy. Your mother is ok, well, as ok as she can be. Dumbledore wanted to wait to have a service till you woke up." Pomfrey finally sat down, obviously tired of circling the lone occupant.

"You said today was the final Task. What exactly are they going to be doing?"

Pomfrey sighed heavily. Obviously she would rather be down at the field than taking care of a boy she couldn't stand when he was a student. She had never fully forgiven him for seducing her son. He was older than Oliver but Pomfrey was a bit of a homophobe. Rumor has it she threw her son out of a moving vehicle.

"They are going through a maze. At the end is the Tournament Cup. First person to grab it wins the whole shebang." Oliver blinked a few times. Something kept creeping up at him. One of Voldemort's Death Eaters worked at Hogwarts. But wh would he need someone to work here? Of all years, the year of the Triwizard Tournament.

"When Harry touches the Cup he'll be transported to a graveyard and the Dark Lord will be cured." Pomfrey said in a monotonous tone. Oliver looked up at her in fearful shock. "The Cup is a portkey." She met Oliver's eyes. "What? Surprised."

"You're, you're," he could barely say it. How could it be? Pomfrey? It was impossible. It just wasn't possible. "You're a Death Eater," she scoffed.

"Hardly. No, Professor Moody confronted me and asked if I wanted to be involved in bringing down my son's rapist. Of course I agreed."

"I didn't rape your son! Why can't you just accept that he's gay!"

"My son is a good boy! You raped my son. He would never be with a man! Never!" She slapped him across the face. "You're going to kill that pathetic brat Harry Potter, and then I will get the pleasure of killing you. But first, we have to see the Dark Lord himself.." She pushed back her robes to reveal a clichེ nurse's uniform with a large tacky belt buckle. She grabbed Oliver's hand and lifted her own. "Brace yourself little boy. One, two three," she forced their hands onto the buckle. There was a pull at Oliver's midsection and the world around him zoomed around in a colorful blur.

This shall be the last chapter. I know I know, but I can't keep updating this story. Its just too difficult. So I guess there's no point in the poll anymore. But just remember, Harry would have won anyway.

-'-- -------!