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Chapter Fourteen: The First Task, Part 1

The house was huge – possibly four or five stories with turrets and towers, twists and turns, and even secret passages. The large windows were blackened and the floorboards creaked with every step. The only interior lights were the fireplaces with dancing orange flames, but there were candles and small lanterns on a table just inside the foyer for them to carry around to combat the darkness. These, however, cast shadows on the walls making Ginny jump in surprise and anticipation.

The interior was old and cobwebbed, reminding her very much of the Shrieking Shack. Harry had once taken her there in his sixth year and told her the story of how his father had become an animagus to be with Professor Lupin when he transformed. After that she had never been afraid of the Shrieking Shack again. This house was ten times larger and scarier and she had reason to be scared here – unlike the other one there were things in this house that meant her harm.

Once the door was shut behind them the three champions looked at each other warily.

"Scared Weasley?" Malfoy said sarcastically.

"No," she bristled. "Are you?"

"Not at all," he said looking around. "It reminds me of home. Good old Malfoy Manor…" His voice was full of bravado but Ginny thought his eyes told a different story.

"I'm going zis way," Jon-Pierre said pointing to the corridor in front of them. His tone and body language said clearly that he didn't want to be followed.

"Have a good time," Malfoy said sarcastically with a parting wave. As Jon-Pierre turned to leave Ginny heard him mutter under his breath, "…you stupid ponce."

He strode over to the adjacent sitting room and plopped down on the davenport in front of the fire.

"What are you doing?" Ginny asked as she followed him, totally bewildered by his strategy.

"I'm sitting," Malfoy said, rolling his eyes. "I thought you were supposed to be bright, Weasley."

"I'm clever enough to know that sitting here on this sofa won't get you any points with the judges," Ginny shot back.

"Like I'd want points from your boyfriend anyway," he said with an indignant sniff. "You run along Ginevra and play with the nice vampires. I'm fine where I am, thanks." He propped his feet up and stretched out on the dusty piece of furniture.

She stared at him dumbly, not believing what she was seeing. "You're really staying here, then?"

"I can make room for you if you like," he said with a suggestive wink. "We can keep each other warm till sunrise." He sat up and patted the spot next to him.

"You're impossible!" she huffed, turning on her heel.

"If you change your mind you know where to find me," he called lazily out from behind her.

"Bugger off, Malfoy," she muttered angrily, stomping away.

Once away from him she weighed her options and decided her best chance of finding the hidden rooms were the upper levels, so she grabbed a lantern and descended the winding grand staircase, a growing feeling of unease building in her chest. At least she didn't have to worry about Malfoy hexing her from behind. If he really did intend to stay on the davenport the entire night then her only real competition was Jon-Pierre.

The staircase stopped at the second floor, which meant that she'd have to search for another way to the next level. A long corridor contained at least a dozen doors. Long shadows cast by the waning light of the lantern made her shiver as her eyes darted to and fro, searching for some unseen hidden threat. She knew it was ridiculous, but she felt as if she was being watched. Shaking off that feeling, she decided to start her search from the hidden rooms here.

Being systematic about it, she started with the first room. It was an ordinary bedroom, perhaps a bit older and dustier than normal, but at one time it might have been considered elegant. There was a double bed, a dresser with a mirror, a small bedside table, and a dirty rug on the floor. Ginny set the lantern down and searched the drawers finding them full of old clothing but nothing out of the ordinary. She looked over the walls, ceiling, and floors carefully and found nothing to suggest that there was anything there.

She was just about to leave when something caught her eye – a figurine of a ballerina poised on its toes in a perfect pirouette. The girl was so beautiful she felt drawn to it, picking it up gingerly and examining it. A small lever on the bottom of the base begged to be pulled and even though her mind screamed not to do it, she found her fingers wouldn't listen. Her breath caught as the figure came to life, twirling on the base and emitting a strange otherworldly melody. She stood motionless watching the ballerina dance and feeling her head grow woozy with the music.

It's a spell, her mind screamed. The object is enchanted. Stop it!

With a concentrated effort Ginny let the delicate object slip from her fingers and fall to the ground with a crash. The music stopped abruptly; slowly the cobwebs cleared from her reluctant brain and she shook herself awake. A glance at her watch showed that a full half hour had passed since she had entered the room.

She swore violently. That object had obviously been a trap and she had fallen into it head first. The weeks cleaning number twelve, Grimmauld Place flashed before her eyes and she vowed to be more careful in future. She knew better than this!

On guard now, she tore through several other rooms and did not let herself be distracted by tempting objects again, although several did try to get her attention. It wasn't until the fourth bedroom that she ran into another obstacle. It was the first room with a cupboard in it, and she stood in front of the closed door warily. She knew she had no choice but to look since it may lead to one of the hidden rooms, but her heart was pounding wildly in her chest. What if something else was behind that door? Or, what if it was one of the secret rooms and there was a vampire waiting for her? What would she do then?

Taking a deep breath she steadied her nerves and set the lantern on the table. Gripping her wand in one hand and the door knob in the other, she flung the door open quickly, hoping to surprise whatever might be inside. There was nothing there.

Relieved, she turned to leave and was stopped cold by what she saw. It was Harry lying dead on the ground, his limbs twisted at an odd angle like he had fallen over backwards without having a chance to even pull his wand. His eyes stared at her accusingly but they were cold and lifeless – he had been struck by the Killing Curse.

She screamed and stepped back, forgetting for an instant that she was in the middle of a Triwizard Task and that this was most likely a boggart. She couldn't breath, her panic was suffocating her. It took her a full minute to collect her thoughts before she could think clearly enough to realize that this was simply a boggart. Harry wasn't really here… it was only an illusion. He was safe outside with Professor McGonagall and Madame Maxime she reminded herself.

Shakily, she raised her wand and imagined Harry playing dead like a dog – a semi-morbid, funny trick Fred or George used to play on her when she was little.

"Riddikulus!"

With an angry pop the boggart disappeared in a puff of smoke and so did the horrible image. She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Harry," she muttered contritely as she picked up her lantern, "you are going to be the death of me yet."

Moving stealthily, she left the room and headed back out into the corridor. Choosing the next door, she found a set of stairs that ascended to the next floor. I'll come back to them later, she thought. To save time she used her wand and outlined an X on the back of the door so she could find it again easily, silently thanking Hermione for the inspiration. Moving quickly, she thoroughly searched the other rooms for any sort of hidden areas but found nothing more than a nest of Doxies, which she narrowly avoided being bitten by, and a nasty ghoul who threw things at her. Overall it was a waste of time, and she had lost her lantern along the way, forcing her to use her wand as her only light source.

Heading back to the stairs, she easily found the right door and opened it cautiously, shining her light upward in a sweeping arc. It didn't even come close to penetrating the inky blackness above, and she shivered again, unable to shake that feeling that something or someone was watching her. Steeling her resolve she quietly stepped up, carefully walking on the edge of the steps so as to avoid the creaks of the old wood. If anything was up there she didn't want it to know she was coming if she could help it. Up above she could see a faint light glowing under the door and, as she approached the top of the stairs, she paused.

One… two… three!

She pushed open the door to find a large open room lit by a roaring fire and four closed doors. It was quite empty. For the first time Ginny saw paintings on the walls. There were two enormous life-sized paintings gracing each side of the room facing each other. One was of a short man dressed in military garb sporting a pointed hat, and the other depicted an eighteenth century woman dressed for a ball. Both were quite young. The woman held a fan over her face and hid from Ginny but the man drew his sword, saying something in French that Ginny didn't understand.

"I'm sorry," she told him. "I don't understand."

"I askeed," he said in a very heavy accent, "who goez thair?"

"Oh. My name's Ginny... Ginny Weasley," she told him politely, hoping she could convince him to help her find one of the hidden rooms. "I'm a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am competing in the Triwizard Tournament."

"Wizard! Are you a wi'ch, zen?" he asked suspiciously.

"I am," Ginny declared.

She was not prepared for his violent reaction. He waved his sword around violently. "I waz curzed by a wi'ch," he said angrily. "She put me 'ere."

"Er...who are you?" Ginny asked, her curiosity making her momentarily forget the task she was in the middle of attempting to complete. She had a vague idea that she'd seen him before, but couldn't quite place him.

"My name ez Napoleon Bonaparte," he said, drawing himself up to full height, which wasn't much taller than Ginny.

"I've heard of you," Ginny gasped. "You're a Muggle general, aren't you? A famous Frenchman from history."

He snapped to attention. "I am a Frenchman, but I do not know about zis Muggle," he said drawling out the last word.

"It means that you're not a wizard," Ginny explained.

He sniffed rudely reminding her very much of Malfoy earlier. "Of courze not."

"Who cursed you?" Ginny asked.

He nodded his head to the woman opposite him with a deadly sneer. "She did," he said with distaste.

Ginny turned to the woman behind her. "And who are you?" she asked. "Are you really a witch?"

"Oui, mademoiselle. My name ez Monique De la Fontaine," she said shyly, casting a glance at Napoleon.

"Is he telling the truth?" Ginny asked, genuinely interested now. "Did you curse him?"

"No, I did not," she said as if Ginny had just insulted her. She shot an unhappy look towards the other portrait. "I waz in love wiz him."

"Liar!" Napoleon roared. "We may 'ave been lovers, but 'ow do you explain 'ow I came to be 'ere, Mademoiselle? You are an evil wi'ch!"

"I cast a spell so zat we could be together forever," she cried in anguish. "Instead it 'as been a curse on me!"

"She lies and tell ze truth in ze same breath!" Napoleon said angrily.

"Technically a spell doesn't have to be a curse," Ginny said reasonably. "There are all kinds of spells… jinxes, hexes, standard charms, binding magical contracts. A spell doesn't have to be a curse, you know. Maybe she's telling the truth... Maybe all she wanted was for the two of you to be together forever, so she created these portraits with your personalities to let that happen. That's kind of romantic, isn't it?"

Napoleon seemed to be wavering a bit. He put down his sword.

"Exactly what I have been trying to tell 'im for centuries," Monique said. "He ez a stubborn man, Mademoiselle Weazley."

"I know all about stubborn men," Ginny confided. "I have six brothers and a boyfriend with that bothersome trait. I could write an entire encyclopaedia on the subject."

"Et 'as been terrible!" Monique cried, pulling out a handkerchief and dabbing at her eyes.

Ginny looked over at Napoleon sharply but when she saw the tiniest hint of distress in his face at Monique's tears she decided to try to reason with him.

"Sir..." she began. "Monsieur Bonaparte, this isn't the real you. It's only a reflection of you… like a mirror. The real you died a long time ago as on old man. You became emperor of France, you know."

He sat down on a nearby rock, gobsmacked. "I did? Are you saying zat I may not be cursed? Zat zis," he waved his hand, "may be all an illusion?"

"Oh, you're real," she said quickly, "just not in the way you thought you were. Magical paintings retain the essence of your true personality, not your soul. Monique must love you a lot to listen to you rage at her for over two centuries."

He looked over at Monique. "Ez zis what you 'ave been trying to tell me? Zat you love me?"

"I do love you, Monsieur," she said shyly.

Napoleon looked over at her longingly. "I wish zat we did not 'ave zis distance between us, my dear Monique."

"You can move between paintings, you know," Ginny said. "All the paintings at Hogwarts do it, and if Monique cast the spell to allow you both to be together then I'm certain she probably built that into it. Otherwise, what would be the point?"

"I did," Monique admitted, "but until now I waz too frightened to reveal it."

Napoleon's face took on one of lust as he looked over at his former lover. "Can we... be togezer in ze biblical sense?"

"That's my cue to leave," Ginny said quickly, having no desire to witness the lover's first rendezvous in several hundred years.

"Mademoiselle Weazley," Napoleon said gallantly with a bow, "I 'ave made a grave mistake and you 'ave shown me ze error of my ways. 'Ow can I repay you?"

"Well," she said hesitantly, "I'm looking for some hidden rooms. They're supposed to have something in them that I need. Do you have any idea where they might be located?"

"Try ze fire," he said with a nod towards the end of the room. "But beware… zer is danger behind ze flames."

"And to repay you zis kindness," Monique added, "I would suggest you try ze kitchen. Zere ez a 'idden room within its walls, but where I cannot say."

Ginny curtsied to them. "Thank you for your help Mademoiselle… Monsieur."

"You are a clever girl, Mademoiselle Weazley," Napoleon said in a bold, booming voice. "Many would 'ave passed us by without a second thought, but you took ze time to stop and listen. Zat ez very wise for one so young."

"Be careful, Mademoiselle," Monique called after her as she turned towards the fireplace.

"I will," Ginny assured her. "Thank you again."

She went to the fireplace and examined it closely. It looked ordinary enough to her, except that it was rather large. She ran her hand over the mantle and fingered the ornate carvings in the wood curiously. Napoleon had said that there was danger in the flames… no, behind the flames. The room must be somewhere behind the fireplace, but how could she get there? Could there be a secret latch or button, a secret door, or was it something else?

She bent down and examined the dancing flames inside the grate, willing them to share their secret. Noticing a faint glow towards the back of the fireplace, she cast a Flame-Freezing charm on the fire, changing the properties of the hot embers to nothing more than a mild warm breeze, making them perfectly harmless to her and her clothing. She had thought about a simple Aguamenti Charm to put the fire out, but the clue said to go through the flames, which could prove a problem if she extinguished them. Stepping inside the grate, she pushed on the bricks in back and was satisfied to feel them give way.

Her heartbeat accelerated. She had just found one of the hidden rooms.

A/N: Thanks to Arnel for her beta services and Melindaleo for her input and idea to use vampires as the First Task. FYI... the First Task is broken into three parts which I will try and post in quick succession. Stayed tuned for Part 2...