Chapter Eighteen
Checkmate
:.:.:
June twenty-fourth. The twenty-fourth of June. The sixth month of the year, the twenty-fourth day of the month. Today was the day. Just one more task and I'd be rid of this Godric-forsaken tournament once and for all. And the best part was that I wasn't even nervous! Probably because I knew I wasn't facing another dragon (or at least I hoped not), or because I knew I wouldn't have to dive into that bloody lake again... And it also helped that none of my best mates were missing on the morning of the task. I sat at the Slytherin table enjoying breakfast with all three of them present and accounted for.
"Hey, Potter! Potter!" Draco began shouting at Harry across the Great Hall. "How's your head? You feeling all right? Sure you're not going to go berserk on us?" He was waving a copy of the Daily Prophet which I reached across the table and snatched from him. "Er, Demi, you wouldn't be interested in that." He tried to get it back from me.
"Oh no?" I tried him.
TRIWIZARD CHAMPIONS
"DISTURBED AND DANGEROUS"
The boy who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and the Lumen who rose from the dead are unstable and possibly dangerous, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Alarming evidence has recently come to light about both Harry Potter and Demetria Harris's strange behavior, which casts doubts upon their suitability to compete in a demanding competition like the Triwizard Tournament, or even to attend Hogwarts School and Durmstrang Institute, respectively.
Potter, the Daily Prophet can exclusively reveal, regularly collapses at school, and is often heard to complain of pain in the scar on his forehead (relic of the curse with which You-Know-Who attempted to kill him). On Monday last, midway through a Divination lesson, your Daily Prophet reporter witnessed Potter storming from the class, claiming that his scar was hurting too badly to continue studying.
A similar evident transpired with Harris on the very same day, around the same time. Right after witnessing Potter's hysterics, your reporter happened upon Durmstrang's ship where Harris had completely broken down after an innocent duel with one of her schoolmates. Harris was curled up on the ground, crying out in pain, even after the duel had ceased. Numerous other schoolmates tried to speak to her, but she could not hear them, seemingly trapped inside her own mind. She was then carried into Hogwarts to receive medical attention by non-other-than Viktor Krum. (Could there be ANOTHER special lady in the Bulgarian Quidditch star's life? Stay tuned!)
It is possible, say top experts at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, that Potter's brain was affected by the attack inflicted upon him by You-Know-Who, and that his insistence that the scar is still hurting is an expression of his deep-seated confusion.
"He might even be pretending," said one specialist. "This could be a plea for attention. And if that's the case, it's likely Miss Harris is acting out similarly for the same reason. It's a constant battle to see who can steal the limelight."
The Daily Prophet, however, has unearthed worrying facts about Harry Potter that Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, has carefully concealed from the wizarding public.
"Potter can speak Parseltongue," reveals Draco Malfoy, a Hogwarts fourth year. "There were a lot of attacks on students a couple of years ago, and most people thought Potter was behind them after they saw him lose his temper at a dueling club and set a snake on another boy. It was all hushed up, though."
Parseltongue, the ability to converse with snakes, has long been considered a Dark Art. Indeed, the most famous Parselmouth of our time is none other than You-Know-Who himself. A member of the Dark Force Defense League, who wished to remain unnamed, stated that he would regard any wizard who could speak Parseltongue "as worthy of investigation."
There has not been any evidence of Harris speaking Parseltongue, but this reporter agrees with the St. Mungo's specialist, that after hearing this news, it is likely "she will either feel comfortably revealing that she is a Parselmouth, or at least pretend to be one in order to match Harry Potter."
"I wouldn't be surprised if she could speak Parseltongue," says Cho Chang, a fifth year at Hogwarts. "They probably offer it as a class at Durmstrang. That school's known for teaching Dark Arts."
Albus Dumbledore should surely consider whether two champions such as this should be allowed to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. Some fear that Potter and Harris might resort to the Dark Arts in their desperation to win the tournament, the third task of which takes place this evening.
Draco had been eyeing me carefully, unsure of how I'd react. Although, I'd imagine he was more worried I'd scold him for what he revealed about Harry. And honestly, I would've...but I just couldn't bring myself to take anything in that article seriously. Granted, I did believe Harry was a Parselmouth, but...everything else?
I bursted out into laughter. The blokes around me looked a bit concerned, but after a moment, my mates joined in with me. When I'd connected eyes with Harry from across the Hall, he started laughing with me too. Cho was scowling from over at the Ravenclaw table.
"How pathetic," I said after calming down. "Skeeter's so desperate for a front page story, she'll piece together any load of bullshi — Wait, she said she witnessed what happened on the ship? Did any of you see her around?"
Viktor, Grigor, and Finn all shook their heads.
"You wouldn't've seen her," Draco told me.
"What're you on about?" I asked carefully.
He took a quick glance around before leaning in and telling me, "She's an Animagus — a beetle, unregistered."
I could feel my eyes practically bulge out of their sockets. "Son of a Banshee..." A wicked grin crept upon my face. That was how she was hearing everything that no one else was around for! And unregistered? She'd bloody well lose her job if anyone found out! I had to tell — No, I reckon I knew exactly who deserved to tell...
I wasted no time then, getting up from the Slytherin table and marching right over to the Gryffindors. I spotted my bushy-haired friend with ease and leaned in close to tell Hermione the wonderful news. She looked about as gleeful as I did.
"You're certain?" she said.
"Just got word from one of her interviewees," I told her fervently.
"That's brilliant!" she exclaimed. "Just give me two seconds in the library — just to make sure!"
With that, Hermione seized her school bag and dashed out of the Great Hall.
"Oi!" Ron called out after her. "We've got our History of Magic exam in ten minutes! Blimey," he said, turning to me. "what'd you tell her?"
"You'll see," I assured him, smirking.
"Must've been really important to risk missing the start of an exam."
Oh, it is. I couldn't wait for everyone to find out, and then I'd never have to worry about another article from that foul woman again.
Ron looked as though he was going to say something else, but just then, Professor McGonagall came walking alongside the Gryffindor table toward us.
"Potter — Ah, Harris, you're here as well, wonderful — the champions are congregating in the chamber off the Hall after breakfast," she said.
"But the task's not till tonight!" said Harry, accidentally spilling scrambled eggs down his front.
"I'm aware of that, Potter," she said. "The champions' families are invited to watch the final task, you know. This is simply a chance for you to greet them."
She moved away, Harry and I gaping after her.
"She doesn't expect the Dursleys to turn up, does she?" she asked blankly.
And though I had no idea who the Dursleys were, I was far too concerned with seeing my grandfather again... I'd been avoiding him for so long, though, surely he wouldn't actually come... Oh, who was I kidding? A chance to see me and speak with me without me being able to run away or hex him? Of course, he'd be there...
"Dunno," said Ron. "Harry, I'd better hurry, I'm going to be late for Binns. See you later. Bye, Demetria."
I took Ron's seat after he left, and stayed with Harry. We saw Fleur get up from the Ravenclaw table and join Cedric as he crossed to the side chamber and entered, but neither of us moved to do the same.
"You don't want to go in either?" I asked him.
"Not particularly," he admitted. "I have no family — no family who would turn up to see me risk my life, anyway. I've only got an aunt, uncle, and cousin, but they're all Muggles and don't like me very much."
I wondered then if it was better to have no family at all rather than a family that didn't care for you...
"Well, I'm sure my grandad's in there, but I don't really consider him much of family after..." I paused. "...an incident..."
Harry didn't press me for details, which I was thankful for, and we both began considering just leaving the Great Hall instead. But just when we got up to go, the door of the side chamber opened, Cedric sticking his head out.
"Harry, come on, they're waiting for you!" he said. "Demetria, sweetheart, I want you to meet my parents!"
Harry and I looked to one another and sighed. I s'pose I'd have to face dear old Grandad after all... We walked across the Hall and opened the door into the chamber.
Cedric and his parents were just inside the door. Fleur was jabbering away in French to her mother. Fleur's little sister, Gabrielle, was holding her mother's hand. I noticed her wave at Harry, who waved back, grinning. Then I saw two red-heads — presumably Mrs. Weasley and one of her sons — standing beside an older man whom I didn't recognize, and he didn't even have the signature, red, Weasley hair.
"Surprise!" said Mrs. Weasley, rushing over to Harry. It made me smile to see that there was someone there for him.
I stepped aside and began making my way toward Cedric because, as far as I could tell, Grandad wasn't there. I s'pose Dumbledore remembered what I'd said about not being on speaking terms with him and hadn't invited him. It did also make me sort of sad, in a way, because although I truly didn't want to see him, it would've been nice to have someone there for me. He could've maybe sent Viktor's parents, like he'd sent Ron's for Harry...
"Demetria, these are my parents," Cedric introduced when I'd made my way over. "Mum, Dad, this is Demetria."
"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Demetria," said Mr. Diggory, shaking my head.
"We've heard nothing but wonderful things about you, dear," Mrs. Diggory told me, hugging me and kissing my cheek.
Well, at least I had the Diggorys...
"Demetria!" I turned back around. It was Mrs. Weasley waving me over.
And the Weasleys...?
"Sorry, it was lovely meeting you both —" I said to Cedric's parents.
"Quite alright! I'm sure there'll be plenty of time to speak once this tournament's over," said Mr. Diggory.
I walked back over to where I'd left Harry.
"Hello," I said sort of nervously.
"Demetria Harris, I have not seen you since — Oh, since Lucy was still pregnant with you!" said Mrs. Weasley excitedly. "May I?" She extended her arms.
"Yeah, sure," I said with a laugh; we hugged.
"This is my oldest son —"
"Bill," I said.
"Ah, I see Fred and George have mentioned me," said the tall red-head, shaking my hand. "Nice to meet you, Demetria."
"You too." I mirrored the grin.
"I take it they haven't mentioned me?" said the man. He seemed sort of familiar... But he couldn't've been one of the other Weasley brothers; I'd now met them all. Perhaps he was a different Weasley family member? But he didn't have red hair... It was light brown, flecked with grey. His face was pale and looked sort of exhausted. There were also scars cutting across it, and he had a rough beard.
"I don't think so, sorry," I said sheepishly.
Mrs. Weasley looked as though she was about to explode with happy tears. Harry was looking rather excited as well.
"Oh, don't keep it from her any longer," Bill told his mother, but she couldn't seem to find her voice, then.
"Demetria," Harry spoke for her. "This is Remus Lupin!"
My jaw dropped.
"But — How did he — Dumbledore said he didn't want to contact you and go against Carlisle's wishes..."
"Well then he must've had a change of heart," said Remus, extending his arms. "May I?"
I didn't even say anything, simply rushed to embrace him.
"I can't believe it!" I said when I pulled away. "I wanted to find you but I didn't know how and — Godric, I only really just found out about you, but here you are . . . you're really here . . . my godfather's here! I have a godfather!"
I probably sounded silly, but I didn't care. I was just so happy, and so thankful, to have a family member there with me. More than one, really, because I didn't think Mrs. Weasley would let me go another fifteen plus years without seeing her again. And sure enough...
"Demetria, dear, Dumbledore mentioned you and your grandfather weren't on the best of terms," she began. "If you need a place to stay this summer, we would be more than happy to have you!"
A real family . . . not by blood, but still a family . . . Sirius was right: family wasn't always about blood.
"Thank you so much," I said sincerely.
"So, Harry, how about that tour?" said Bill.
"Yeah, okay," said Harry. Remus ushered for me to follow as we all made our way back toward the Great Hall. As we did so, we passed Mr. Diggory, who turned and looked at Harry.
"There you are, are you?" he said, looking Harry up and down. "Bet you're not feeling quite as full of yourself with Cedric nearly caught up on points, are you?"
"What?" said Harry.
Cedric hadn't been exaggerating about his father...
"Ignore him," said Cedric in a low voice, frowning after his father. "He's been angry ever since Rita Skeeter's article about the Triwizard Tournament — you know, when she made out you were the only Hogwarts champion."
"Didn't bother to correct her, though, did he?" said Mr. Diggory, loudly enough for Harry to hear as he started to walk out of the door with Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Remus. "Still . . . you'll show him, Ced. Beaten him once before, haven't you?"
"Rita Skeeter goes out of her way to cause trouble, Amos!" Mrs. Weasley said angrily. Not for long. "I would have thought you'd know that, working at the Ministry!"
Mr. Diggory looked as though he was going to say something angry, but Mrs. Diggory swooped in to lay a hand on his arm, and he merely shrugged and turned away.
I had a very enjoyable morning walking over the sunny grounds with Remus, Bill, Mrs. Weasley, and Harry. And though I'd already received a tour of Hogwarts, it certainly wasn't boring the second time around. Plus, I'd taken the opportunity to finally get to know my godfather, and he and Mrs. Weasley were certainly eager to get to know me too.
"How's Percy?" Harry asked as we walked around the greenhouses.
"Not good," said Bill.
"He's very upset," said Mrs. Weasley, lowering her voice and glancing around. "The Ministry wants to keep Mr. Crouch's disappearance quiet, but Percy's been hauled in for questioning about the instructions Mr. Crouch has been sending in. They seem to think there's a chance they weren't genuinely written by him. Percy's been under a lot of strain. They're not letting him fill in for Mr. Crouch as the fifth judge tonight. Cornelius Fudge is going to be doing it."
We all returned to the castle for lunch, but when we entered the Great Hall, it didn't really feel right turning toward the Slytherin table. I figured Remus would enjoy it more with the Gryffindors, so I told him I'd meet him there and went to round up Viktor, Finn, and Grigor from the Slytherins.
"Gents, I want you to meet my godfather, Remus Lupin," I introduced upon arriving at the Gryffindor table. "Remus, these are...my brothers: Viktor Krum, Grigor Poliakoff, and Finn Archer."
They all shook Remus's hand and exchanged pleasantries, and when I asked if they'd like to join us at the Gryffindor table, they agreed. Harry, Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Ron were already seated, and Fred, George, and Ginny came to sit next to us too. I was having such a good time, as I always did at the Gryffindor table. There was just something more warm and welcoming about the atmosphere there. And it was especially nice this time because...my family was all together.
Hermione turned up halfway through lunch. I hoped she hadn't missed her exam because of her research in the library...
"Hello, Hermione," said Mrs. Weasley rather stiffly.
"Hello," said Hermione, her smile faltering at the cold expression on Mrs. Weasley's face.
Harry spoke to Mrs. Weasley. "You didn't believe that rubbish Rita Skeeter wrote in Witch Weekly, did you? Because Hermione's not my girlfriend."
I looked to Viktor for some sort of reaction, but he simply smiled at me. "She is not mine either," he said, low enough so only I could hear. I s'pose he'd moved on.
"Oh!" said Mrs. Weasley. "No — of course I didn't!" But she became considerably warmer toward Hermione after that.
After lunch, Remus, Viktor, Grigor, Finn, and I whiled away the afternoon on the ship, and then returned to the Great Hall for the evening feast. Ludo Bagman and Cornelius Fudge had joined the staff table now. Bagman looked quite cheerful, but Fudge, who was sitting next to Madame Maxime, looked stern and was not talking. Madame Maxime was concentrating on her plate, and her eyes looked red. I noticed Hagrid kept glancing along the table at her. Blimey, I wondered what that was all about...
There were more courses than usual, which Grigor really loved, but I didn't want to eat too much before the task. As the enchanted ceiling overheard began to fade from blue to a dusky purple, Dumbledore rose to his feet at the staff table and silence fell.
"Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now."
The Weasleys, Remus, Hermione, and my three brothers all wished Harry and I good luck as we rose from the Gryffindor table and headed off out of the Great Hall with Cedric and Fleur. As Bagman immediately began speaking to Harry, I moved closer to Cedric. I'd suddenly felt very guilty for not spending more time with him and his parents that day.
"Sorry I didn't see much of you today," I told him, planting a kiss on his cheek. "I hope your parents don't think I'm incredibly rude."
"Not at all, they understood," he assured me. "I heard that was your godfather who showed up. I guess you found him?"
"Dumbledore did, but yeah, I finally got to meet him." I was still beaming over it.
"That's wonderful, I'm so happy for you, love," Cedric said whole-heartedly. "So how're you feeling about the task?"
"Honestly, I think I'm all right," I told him. "What about you?"
"Yeah, I'm okay," he said. "Not nearly as nervous as I was before the other two."
"Harris!"
We all turned and saw Mad-Eye Moody making his way toward us from the castle.
"Bagman, mind if I borrow Durmstrang's champion?" he growled. "Madam Pomfrey wants to check up on her injury before the task."
"Very well, but do hurry!" said Bagman. "Demetria and Harry get the headstart!"
Cedric gave me a quick kiss before I rushed to keep up with Moody's long strides; he was clearly on edge about something, and though he had a wooden leg, he was moving rather swiftly. But I'd been so distracted by him that I failed to realize we were no longer headed in the direction of the hospital wing. But before I could say or do anything, Moody had pulled me into a fourth floor classroom.
"What the hell's going on?" I demanded. When I moved for the door, he blocked it and immediately locked it with a nonverbal incantation. "Alohomora!" Nothing happened.
"Gonna take more than the ordinary Unlocking Charm to open this door," he told me, voice still on-edge.
"What're you doing?"
But he didn't answer. He wasn't even looking at me; he stood in front of the window.
"Moody!"
I moved to the window and saw what he was gazing down upon: the Quidditch field. It wasn't a perfect view, but I could see the stands begin to fill with people. The sky was a deep, clear blue now, and the first stars were starting to appear. Suddenly, Bagman's magically magnified voice echoed out into the sky.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, with ninety points each — Miss Demetria Harris, of Durmstrang Institute and Mr. Harry Potter, of Hogwarts School!" Muffled cheers and applause could be heard even through the glass. "In second place, with seventy-eight points — Mr. Cedric Diggory, also of Hogwarts School!" More applause. "And in third place — Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!
"We . . . er . . . seem to still be missing one of our champions . . ."
I glared at Moody.
"You're keeping me locked up in here so that Harry can win the tournament?" I seethed. "It's just a bloody game! Who cares who wins?!" Moody didn't shift his stare from the stadium, not even his magical eye which always seemed to have a mind of its own. "You really don't think your champion can win on his own? You've got to take out the competition? What is wrong with — ?"
"Enough!"
He used another non-verbal spell to send me flying across the room. My back slammed against the wall and I crumpled to the floor. When I lifted my head, Moody was taking a long swig from his hip flask, finally staring back at me.
"This isn't about some game!" he exclaimed.
"So what, then?" I said. "You're going to kill me, is that it? I heard you've been obsessed with hunting Dark wizards."
He laughed darkly, though it sounded more like his usual grumbling. "It's not you I'm planning to kill tonight," he said, turning back to the window. "And they're off..."
"Harry?" I said after a moment. Again, no answer. "What the hell is going on?"
"Impatient little girl, aren't you?" Moody grumbled.
"Oh, you're right!" I said, sarcastically, getting back on my feet. "I'll just sit here quietly and watch as your brilliant master plan unfolds!"
Another sinister laugh. "It's not my plan," he said. "but it is brilliant..."
There was no sodding way someone who'd dedicated their life to locking away Death Eaters would just seemingly turn their back on those morals and try to kill The Boy Who Lived! How was this the famous Auror, Alastor Moody?! How . . . . Click . . . It wasn't the famous Auror, Alastor Moody . . .
My heart free-fell out of my chest. I hadn't been scared before, but I was then...
"It's not my plan, but it is brilliant."
"You're not the only one with reliable sources, Harris."
"Reckon I know whose side you're on."
Whoever this was, they knew I was on the good side... They were the one on the Dark side... And when I'd been Stunned in the forest, they arrived rather quickly on the scene... It had to have been them who attacked me! If they went after Crouch... Bloody hell, did they kill Mr. Crouch...?
While my mind was racing with all these thoughts, I'd been casting different spells on the door in hopes of, perhaps, just blasting it off the hinges. I knew it was pointless, but it was more so to keep 'Moody' from figuring out that I was figuring out his little plan... Because, surely, if I simply stood there with my jaw on the floor, he might alter the plan so it involved killing me too.
"You'll never open it that way," he told me, reaching for his flask again. "And no one'll hear you. All watching the tournament."
And the flask! Of course, the sodding flask! Polyjuice Potion! Polyjuice . . . just like . . . But perhaps it was just a coincidence! Then again . . . he'd been absent from the meetings . . .
"Moody, let me out!" I shouted, keeping my voice as even as I could.
"So you can keep Potter from getting to the Triwizard Cup?" he growled. "I don't think so."
"I thought it wasn't about the game?" I challenged.
"Patience, Harris."
I had two ideas then, and one of them was rather brilliant...but the other was incredibly stupid...
"All right, well at least give me some answers," I said. 'Moody' looked at me. "Why're you trying to kill Harry Potter? Aren't you two on the same side — against Voldemort?"
"Moody" twitched. "Don't say his name," he growled.
You see, I had a fairly good idea of who I was dealing with . . . and I thought maybe if I could unleash some of that wandless magic of mine, it would blast the door open. Only problem was, I could only do it when I was feeling some sort of strong emotion...usually anger. But first, I had to get him angry...
"Sorry, I'm just saying...you really filled up the cells in Azkaban back in the day," I continued. "I mean, you caught the Lestranges — two of the most pathetic excuses for life the world's ever seen!" 'Moody' was biting his tongue then. "And . . . bugger, who was the other one who tortured the Longbottoms?"
"Barty Crouch Jr.," he said.
"Right, right," I said before giving a laugh. "Sentenced to Azkaban by his own father . . . His father, who then broke him out! Talk about a father's love . . ."
"What's your point?" 'Moody' growled.
"My point is, you used to work for people like Mr. Crouch — the good people!" I said. "And Barty Crouch was the best of the be —"
"That's enough out of you!" he said, looking me dead in the eyes. "You're young and ignorant! Don't know what in the hell you're talking about. People like Crouch, the good people?! People like Crouch are the problem! People like you, like your whole family!"
Checkmate.
I actually had to take a quick moment to clear my mind so that I could refrain from smirking that my plan to ignite this tempermental firecracker worked, and also so that I could allow myself to get angry.
"That's why your mummy's not there to kiss you goodnight — she chose the wrong side! That's why your daddy's not there to read you a story — he chose the wrong side! 'Aiden and Lucy Harris died for a noble cause,' my fucking ass! If you want to talk about two of the most pathetic excuses for life —"
I'd felt it begin to flow throughout my body, like boiling blood, and I embraced it. I let myself fill with anger until I couldn't contain it anymore. A ray of white light jetted out from my fingertips, and though I really wanted to use it on 'Moody', I aimed it at the door which did fly off its hinges, and I ran through it.
I was fairly certain I was running the fastest I ever had in my entire life. My legs carried me so quickly down the hallways and staircases that I thought I was going to tip over and stumble. I never even looked back to see if 'Moody' was following; all I focused on was the space in front of me. I didn't stop until I'd reached the entrance hall and nearly knocked right into someone — Snape.
"Harris, where've you been?" he asked urgently.
"Moody's coming, don't let him know that you know," I rushed out. Snape looked as though he was going to ask. "Trust me?" He nodded. "That's not Moody. That's Barty Crouch Jr." And then I took off running again.
Out onto the grounds and right into the stadium, I never even so much as slowed down.
"What's this?" I heard Bagman say with his voice still magically magnified. "Demetria Harris! A bit late to the game, but Durmstrang is back in the running!"
"Lumos!" I said, igniting the dark maze before me.
The towering hedges cast black shadows across the path, and, whether because they were so tall and thick or because they had been enchanted, the sound of the surrounding crowd was silenced the moment I entered the maze. I just wished I knew where I was going . . . I didn't have time to waste.
After about fifty yards, there came a fork, and without giving it too much thought, I went with my gut and turned left. Even though my lungs and legs were begging me to take a break, I didn't, I knew I couldn't. But suddenly, after turning a corner, I saw something — Viktor — and I skidded to a halt. He was lying motionless on the ground . . . and then suddenly, I saw Finn laying next to him . . . and Grigor and . . .
I smirked.
"Riddikulus!"
There came a loud crack, and the boggart exploded in a wisp of smoke. I took off again and then made a left, then another left. Instantly, there came high-pitched cackles from out in front of me and I wasn't sure if these obstacles meant I was going the right way or not, or if fighting whatever they were would be a huge waste of time or not! The cackling drew closer and I could make out three-foot-tall elfish creatures coming toward me. They looked like creepy versions of house-elves... No matter.
"Impedimenta!"
I'd sent them all flying backwards, frozen for only a few seconds. Luckily, it was enough time for me to run by and see there was nothing beyond them but a dead end. I immediately retreated and took the right turn, and then the next right turn after that. That was when I saw an odd golden mist floating toward me but, of course, I didn't have time to stop and think about it. I'd slowed down a little, but I'd been moving so fast that by the time I did so, I was already in the mist...unharmed. It did cause everything to flip upside down, though, but I continued running. I had hoped that the mist would end and the world would right itself again, but that didn't appear to be happening anytime soon. Instead, I looked down at what was really up, pulled my foot from the grassy ceiling, and finally fell. Luckily, I'd landed on solid ground, the world right-side-up again. I got back on my feet and pressed on.
I kept to the left for a while but hit a dead end. After a right, I hit another. I had to backtrack further. Time was running out! What if Harry had already reached the Cup? Although, if he had, they would've stopped the game . . . unless they didn't know something was wrong . . . All I knew was that Crouch Jr. wasn't interested in Harry winning the game, just him getting to the Cup . . . so that was what I had to keep him away from.
Speaking of Harry, where was he? Where was Cedric or Fleur? I was beginning to feel like I was the only bloody person in this maze! And I was growing so frustrated that I decided to do something that might've gotten me disqualified. But at that point, I hardly cared for winning anymore, there was much more than a bloody Cup and some prize money at stake.
I slowed to a stop. "Point Me," I whispered the Four-Point Spell to my wand, holding it flat in my palm; something Viktor had taught me.
My wand spun around once until it pointed north, which was also pointing right at a hedge. I blasted my way through it. Through that hedge was a long stretch of pathway which I ran down. I caught sight of movement ahead once again, and after shining my wand on it, found it to be a sphinx.
Body of an over-large lion: great clawed paws and a long yellowish tail ending in a brown taft, and head of a woman. She turned her long, almond-shaped eyes upon me as I approached, slowly down once again. She was crouched, pacing from side to side of the path, guarding it. Then she spoke, in a deep, hoarse voice.
"You are very near your goal. The quickest way is past me."
That was it...
"Okay..." I said, urging for her to continue; she didn't. "What's the riddle?"
"Answer on your first guess — I let you pass," she said; I groaned. "Answer wrongly — I attack. Remain silent — I will let you walk away from me unscathed."
"Yes, yes, good, lay it on me," I said. As I'd mentioned before, I enjoyed puzzles.
The sphinx took her sweet time sitting down upon her hind legs, in the very middle of the path, before finally reciting:
"First think of the person who lives in disguise,
Who deals in secrets and tells naught but lies.
Next, tell me what's always the last thing to mend,
The middle of middle and end of the end?
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?"
A person who lives in disguise . . . deals in secrets, tells lies . . . I mused. Demetria Harris? Right, not the time for jokes . . . a spy!
Always the last thing to mend . . . middle of middle, end of end . . . D!
I didn't even try to decode the rest, although after I said the answer, it became clear that 'er' was the answer to the last clue.
"Spider!"
The sphinx smiled broadly, looking rather impressed. She then got up, took her time, yet again, in stretching her front legs, and then moved aside for me to pass. I broke back into a mad dash.
"Point Me," I whispered again to my wand when the path up ahead split; I followed my wand.
I'd done it! I'd made it! Up ahead, about a hundred yards, gleamed the Triwizard Cup on a plinth! And there was Harry! And Cedric! They were standing in front of it, discussing something...
"Harry! Don't! Harry! Cedric!" I cried like a madwoman, moving as quickly as my legs could carry me.
But something was wrong . . . they didn't seem to hear me at all . . . Was it another obstacle? Was there some sort of invisible shield surrounding them? Whatever it was, it had to be Crouch Jr.'s doing. I wouldn't've been the least bit surprised to find out that he'd been manipulating this bloody maze the entire time.
I was so close, nearly there! Right when I could've reached out and touched either of them, something stopped me. It was exactly what I thought it'd been — an invisible wall blocking me from the Cup. I moved from edge to edge, feeling out in front of me, but the wall extended from hedge to hedge. I banged on the wall, I screamed and cried out. I cast all sorts of jinxes and hexes...nothing worked!
Cedric was helping an injured Harry walk right up to the Cup now. They were about to grab it, seemingly at the same time. There wasn't enough time to make myself angry enough to blast the wall down as I'd done with Crouch Jr.'s door. I was all out of moves . . . Then again, I always had been one for brains over brawn . . . So I didn't get mad, I got smart.
I moved to the very edge, right where the wall met the hedge and blasted a hole into the hedge just as I'd done earlier. I ran through it, made a half-circle, and blasted another hole in the same hedge, nearly next to the first hole.
"One — two — three —"
I practically lunged forward, grabbing on to Harry just as he and Cedric had grasped the Cup's handle.
Instantly, I felt a jerk somewhere behind my navel. My feet had left the ground. The Triwizard Cup was a Portkey, and I had the sinking feeling I wouldn't like where it was taking us.