erbkaiser: Don't worry about the Holda issue just yet; there's a critical piece of information missing that so far I have only vaguely alluded to. Come summer of '95, it will make much more sense. That said, no, it is not directly due to Jen's soul being distorted. The Lovegoods don't necessarily understand what the creatures they see represent, so Luna had no idea she was doing something dangerous. Xeno, on the other hand, was unaware she was looking through their family spells at all. Don't even talk to me about that blasted epilogue…

Russian Lady: Unplanned as it was, the Jen/Viktor pairing does work well, and it refuses to go away. How long it will last, I have not a clue, but Viktor will show up at least once more after this year.

Guest 2: Book 4 comes to 190,637 words total, so 165k, 173k with this chapter, is just about right for this point in the story. That said, I don't care about any hypothetical 'ideal pace'; I care about making this series the best it can be. I'll be posting chapters more often once I finish Consequence of Misunderstandings and have only two stories on my plate, so updates will be faster in that respect, but I'm not going to cut out content just to satisfy some readers' desire for a shorter fic. That's not my style. Otherwise, I'm glad you've been enjoying it, and no, Jen will never be the stay-at-home-and-let-hubby-take-care-of-everything kind of witch. How could she, considering that she's the future leader of the House of Black?

It was quite a surprise when nobody commented on the hint last chapter about Elsie's fate; I expected at least one question about that. Oh, well.

Disclaimer: Did the Tournament's organizers make it incredibly easy for champions to hunt each other down in the Third Task? If so, I don't own the Harry Potter franchise; it belongs to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, Warner Bros., and whoever else she sold the rights to.

Chapter 33
And the Winner Is…

The evening air was balmy as the seven champions stood before Ludo Bagman, each of them tense and trying unsuccessfully to hide it. The former professional athlete clapped his hands, dragging them from their nervous musings. "So, last time we get to see each other together like this, eh? I truly, truly hope you all had as fun a time this year as I have, and just maybe you've gotten to know each other a little better. Don't think that just because you live far apart that those friendships have to end; strengthening relations between our schools, and from there our countries, was the main point of this Tournament.

"Still, there is one Task left to conquer before we have to say goodbye. The previous challenges were based on the qualities of Hogwarts's houses: Gryffindor tested your courage in the face of the unknown, Slytherin forced you to be cunning, Ravenclaw assessed your problem-solving, and Hufflepuff taught you to rely on your fellows. There is one more group that this school represents, however, that we can't leave out in the cold. I am talking, of course, about the staff."

The champions shared glances, and he had to keep from grinning at their surprise. He knew that they wouldn't work that part out, and his coin purse was soon going to be much happier for it. "Several professors have worked tirelessly to design this next Task, creating an obstacle course of sorts based on the courses they teach. I hope you've all been using your free time wisely. Since it was obvious that just about all of you snuck into the forest before the Task last time," he said with a mild glare, prompting a variety of expressions ranging from Danny's irritated scowl to Delacour's haughty sniff to Black's cocky smirk, "we chose to set this one up at another location, one none of you could possibly know about. Now, the actual layout is rather simple: each subject has its own room, and you have to clear that one in order to move on to the next. All of you will be on different paths, so you don't need to worry about any friendly fire or foul play. The Triwizard Cup is at the intersection of all your routes, and it won't bring anyone back here until there is both a junior and a senior champion holding it, so don't think that the game is over just because you reach the end first. It's possible – likely, even – that you'll have to defend your position until a member of the other group arrives as well.

"Now, I have one hint to help you out for the first room. Are you ready to hear it?" They nodded with eager faces, and he could not help but smile smugly. "The hint is… go north."

"Dat is de hint? Vhat good is dat?" Eberhardt snapped. The other teens looked equally mutinous.

"You'll see. Junior champions, come here a moment." He drew four simple necklaces, just a white stone dangling on a string, from his pocket and handed them out. "Your advantage for this Task. These are Portkeys that you can use to jump ahead to the next doorway if you're just absolutely stuck on how to beat the room you are in. Be careful, though; they're single use only, so you'll need to keep that in mind whenever you consider skipping to the next room. You never know if you are about to face an even harder challenge."

The juniors stepped back in line, looking greener than they had already, and he proceeded to pull seven leather straps out of a small pouch. "Your Portkeys to get to the Task," he explained as he read the names labelled on the bands and passed them to the appropriate champions. "The points you all have acquired up to this point determined the order and timing that you will enter the course. Diggory, Krum, you two will go in at six-thirty on the nose. Black, because you were only one point behind them, you'll join them ten seconds later." The girl nodded from her place between the young men. "Mr. Potter, you enter at six-thirty-three, and from there we will go at one-minute intervals, Delacour, then Leroux, then Eberhardt. Any questions?"

"'Ow many rooms are zere in total?" the Veela asked sultrily.

"Good question. I'm afraid I can't tell you." He chuckled at their collective shock. "What, you thought I would make it that easy? No, no, you can't keep a tally in your head of how far you have left to go. That would take all the suspense out of it. Next one?"

Danny raised his hand. "The rest of the school will watch us on viewing crystals like they have for the past couple of Tasks, I'm guessing?"

"They will."

"Vas it only Hogvarts teachers who set up de rooms, or did ours and Beauxbaton's haff a say?" Krum rumbled.

"All three schools were involved. Anyone else?"

"I have one. What time is it?" He reached for his pocket watch to answer Black's question when, in a rush of wind, the senior Hogwarts and Durmstrang champions were whisked away. "Never mind."

Ludo sighed. "And I had wanted to wish you all good luck as a group. Oh, well. For the rest of you, good luck!"

Black barely had time to fire him a jaunty salute before she, too, was gone.

He cleared his throat to break the silence; this was going to be an awkward wait if they all just stood around staring at each other for the next three minutes. "So… anyone know any good jokes?"

Luna shifted uncomfortably in her chair, her fork pushing the fried potatoes she had picked up from the buffet line around and around in a wide circle. Between her worry about how Jen would do in this Task, her excitement to see this final installment of the Tournament, and… other things, she just did not have much of an appetite.

Finally giving thoughts of dinner up as a bad job, she turned her gaze from the dish to a pair of seventh-year Hufflepuff girls sitting side by side against the far wall, not an inch of space existing between their bodies and the shorter girl's head resting on her companion's shoulder. They were the best-known lesbian couple in the school, primarily because the taller of the pair was the Head Girl and so drew closer attention and more gossip from the rest of the student body. That was not to say the other same-sex relationships were hidden, per se; they were open secrets for the most part, societal mores against discussing homosexuality in public the main reason the individuals involved did not proclaim their relationships for all the world to hear, or at least snog in front of everyone like the straight couples did. Only the most oblivious people could miss them, especially as there were a few in each House.

She watched warily as Adolickies hopped to and fro between the couple, their unpleasantness balanced by the beautiful and shiny Pamonarts swimming in wide circles around the pair. The bugs did not look like things she wanted anywhere near her, let alone close enough to sting her.

Still… Glancing down and untangling her clasped hands, she could not help but remember just how warm and happy and good Jen's kiss and – Luna flushed hotly as she remembered it – her subsequent orgasm had made her feel. Never before had she experienced that, and the more she thought about it, the more attractive removing the ward around her bed looked. But what would happen next? Would the adolickies descend upon me in droves to catch up on lost time? Would I make a fool out of myself like everyone else does the first few times they're stung, and if I did, might not that push her away? There would be no point in it if that were the case.

On the other hand, she has plenty of experience with them to hear her talk. Surely she wouldn't hold it against me too much…

Her thoughts about the Black heiress had never been this frantic, not even after hearing about how Jen had been assaulted when she was a little girl. The confusing, pleasing, and unnerving kiss was not the only reason for this aimless mental rambling, either. She surreptitiously tugged her mother's pendent from her pocket and ran a thumb over the smooth bronze face. For as long as she could remember, the woman depicted had always borne that same soft, self-confident smile; it was the face of a lady who knew herself inside and out, who could go into any situation without the barest hint of doubt that she would come out safe and whole.

She had not told her best friend the entire truth when she tried to loan it out for the night. This was not just a good luck charm; it was also supposedly an amulet of protection, a trinket that had kept the maternal side of her family safe for multiple generations. Her mother had told her when she was a little girl that the Mother of Mercy always watched over them and kept them from harm. How a picture of a woman could help when there was not a single spell upon the necklace, she did not know, nor would she ever. That was supposed to be a lesson she received immediately prior to attending Hogwarts, but she was only nine when her mother passed, and after that the Buckley clan had wanted as little as possible to do with her or her father, offended by his interest in the Deathly Hallows. Still, she had kept the pendent for its sentimental value if nothing else, and she had noticed that it was the one possession she had that never 'wandered off' at one point or another. She could not begin to describe the amount of comfort such a simple thing had given her over the years.

Now… not so much.

Gingerly, she flipped the bronze coin over. The two sides had originally matched, but this one had become distorted and blackened, almost as if it had passed through a fire. The once-plump face was all sharp angles, and a callous sneer now graced the Mother's features. If Luna was honest with herself, the changed visage scared her.

That the coin had changed after only a few seconds' contact with Jen's skin did little to comfort her, either.

The large mirrors positioned around the Great Hall flashed to life, and the students still standing rushed to find seats. Padma and Morag dropped next to her, the other members of Jen's 'court' soon joining them. Dumbledore stood and raised his hands to quiet the last of the whispers. "Welcome, students, to the final Task of the Triwizard Tournament!" He waited for the cheers to disappear before continuing, "This Task will be a little different from the others, and as such, we will explain the goal of each section of the course to you as they are revealed."

"It seems our first champions have arrived." Two of the screens showed Diggory and Krum landing heavily on a stone floor, though the blonde could not discern any details; the images were not living color as they had been previously, but were instead in different shades of red. The boys waved their wands and called out the incantation of the lighting charm, but to no avail. "For the Astronomy room, the champions must find the door leading to the next obstacle. As you can see, we have prevented any form of magical light other than a ring of constellations glowing on the ceiling. They have already been instructed to 'head north', which is an obvious reference to Polaris, the North Star.

"And number three shows up," he added as Jen appeared on her own mirror. "Because of how close in points these three were, they have entered at practically the same time… and it seems Miss Black has already found the way out." The Ravenclaw contingent, Luna among them, cheered as their champion walked confidently through the exit. "She conquered Astronomy without a problem, but how will she fare against Transfiguration?"

Jen closed the door behind her with a self-satisfied smile. With only one way in or out, that room had been an utter joke. Perhaps the lack of obvious light sources would have been a problem if she relied on sight, but as she didn't…

Still, no reason to assume they would all be that easy. She followed the short hallway to another doorway and stuck her head through. Her smirk immediately slid off her face. I just had to jinx it, didn't I?

Whoever had conceived of this room was a certifiable sadist. Large stone cauldrons spaced four feet apart tipped over to pour boiling pitch onto the elevated path before returning to their initial positions to be refilled in an endless cycle. Farther along, massive pendulums swept back and forth, promising terrible pain if she mistimed her jump. After that was a circular spinning platform, just over ten feet in diameter, and at the very end stood an enormous suit of armor, armed with a gigantic hammer to continue the evident 'heavy' theme. Below the walkway was more of the hot oil, taking away any ideas about dropping down to sneak past the obstacles.

When I get out of here, someone is going to pay for this, she mentally groused. The Portkey dangled temptingly from her neck, and she slipped it into her blouse with a huff of irritation. If this was only the second room, there was no way she was going to waste her single jump.

The first section was relatively simple. Taking advantage of the time delay between rains of tar, she waited until the flow had stopped and conjured an arched ceiling over the walkway. Only after she was sure that it would keep her from being burned alive did she sprint down the path, her blank wand pointed ahead of her as she froze the simmering puddles before she could step in them. Not slowing down, she sent a blasting curse at the first pendulum, diving to the ground when her spell flew back at her.

"Of course they would be protected. Silly me." She lifted herself off the floor and considered the circles of certain death preventing her from advancing. That's odd. Why in the world can't I feel any shield charms on them? She flicked a stream of water at the swinging weight and pursed her lips in thought when it connected. A tickling charm followed the liquid, and she quickly stepped out of the way. Again, whatever spell is on them won't flare. There aren't any runes on it, and while there is magic layered inside it, it isn't any protective spell I've ever encountered. In fact, it feels almost like… Oh, now that is clever.

Grinning broadly, she reached out to the lynchpin of the spell and tugged, unravelling the transfiguration and changing the pendulum into a length of rope. And there's the shield charm. By ensorcelling the object and then transforming it, they locked the spell into the new shape. I doubt one could hide more than a couple of spells that way, but it's certainly a tricky use of Transfiguration. She quickly removed the charm and shifted the rope into another section of stone to bridge the six-foot gap it had previously been guarding. The other pendulums were easily dealt with using the same strategy, and soon she was tapping her foot idly as she considered the next obstacle.

That thing is just moving too quickly to be safe. The platform whirling about below her was already dangerous with how uneven the surface was, and the speed of its movement would make trying to stay standing on it an exercise in futility. Conjuring a wooden block, she let it drop and winced when it was immediately flung off to fall into the tar covering the floor. She was not sure how deep the pool was, but she was not going to use her own body to measure it.

Then again… Rather than bother with the circle of death at all, she materialized more rock connected to the path, a stream of stone rising at a gentle angle before curving down to connect with the walkway on the opposite side. "I'm glad they didn't give you a scythe and cowl. If they had, I wouldn't have dared try that."

The knight, woken by her approach, raised its war hammer above its head and prepared to smite her.

"Did you know that there is a very important similarity between Ravenclaws and Slytherins?" she continued blithely. A twitch of her right hand went unnoticed, as did the effect it produced. "Unlike the 'brave' Gryffindors or the 'fair' Hufflepuffs, we don't exchange blow for blow when there's another solution available that requires less work. We have better things to do, so why waste the time or effort? Sic him."

That signaled the golem to look around, and it turned to its left just in time to see the enormous snake composed of bubbling pitch hiss at it. The serpent struck the knight's breastplate squarely, sending it into the simmering sea below. The body collapsed into liquid and flowed back to the ground.

She swept her wand in front of her, clearing the last of the gunk from her path. "Fight smarter, not harder."

Danny staggered to his feet after his heavy landing. No matter how many times he had used them over his life, he still despised Portkeys. He never could figure out how to stay standing. Raising his wand against the featureless black surrounding him, he murmured, "Lumos."

Nothing.

That's not a good sign, a tiny voice whispered in his mind. "Lumos! Incendio! Expecto patronum!" The darkness remained until his eyes, now adjusting to the lack of light, spotted clusters of small white dots glowing on the ceiling. Wait, those aren't dots; they're stars! There's Orion, and Cancer next to him. Bagman told us to go north, so that means… He slowly rotated until he spotted his target. …we have to find the Plough. Handy that they would make that constellation shine yellow. Holding his hands in front of him, he slowly made his way toward his stars of choice.

The Great Hall exploded into outraged protests as Danny's window showed them the Transfiguration room.

"What eez ze meaning of zees, Albus?" Olympe demanded. Beside her, Igor nodded in emphatic agreement.

Albus raised his hands to ward off her fury. "I have absolutely no idea; all of the courses were supposed to be identical. Mr. Weasley, perhaps you could explain?"

"I am afraid I am just as lost as you, Professor," Percy admitted ruefully. "Magical Games and Sports told me they had checked it this morning and made sure that everything was finished and ready for the Task. I think the platform not spinning and the knight missing would have been fairly obvious."

This does not make any sense. If the individual who entered Danny into the Tournament wants to kill him, why make the rooms easier? Any normal fourth-year would be far out of his league.

However, it does explain why Bartemius went missing last month. He was heavily involved in planning everything and was one of the few people who knew exactly where this Task had been moved. Our mysterious Death Eater almost certainly tortured the information out of him.

"This was certainly not what we planned," he sighed, addressing his foreign counterparts. "Unfortunately, there is no way we can change it now. The Task has already started; any actions we take would be interpreted as attempting to interfere, which could cause the Goblet to punish the champions. All we can do is wait and watch."

Igor laughed nastily. "Speaking of vatching, I dink your little shlyukha has gotten herself in a spot of trouble."

"Sprout, when I get out of here, you are a dead woman!" Jen's snarled challenge went unheeded, and she quickly dived to dodge the branch whipping towards her. She had no clue what these plants were, only that they were fast, had sharp thorns, and could not be killed with fire.

She knew. She had tried.

Before she could regain her feet, yet another vine lashed out to wrap around her ankle. The barbs pierced her skin and greedily drank more of her blood. If she couldn't stop these things, they would drain her dry; unfortunately, right now they were winning. Her blouse and trousers had numerous rips in them from the unforgiving thorns, and the long scratches running horizontally on the underside of her breasts, the first injury she had suffered, still had not stopped bleeding. With dread, she realized that the plants were almost certainly poisonous. Even if the toxin could not kill or permanently debilitate, it would certainly weaken her. Unfortunately, the damned things moved too quickly for her to pause and purge the poison out of her system.

A cutting charm severed the tendril from the main body of the briar, and she shielded herself from a heavy branch aimed at her head. The rest of the brambles took the opportunity to shoot at her, some digging into her flesh while the majority tied her down. Raspy growling filled the room, and it somewhat surprised Jen to discover it was her making that noise. This was twice today Mother Earth had tried to kill her, and she was tired of it!

That. Is. It! No more little miss nice witch! If they want to get at what's inside my body, I'll give them all they can stand, and more besides!

Feeding her rage to her magic, she forced the arctic mixture into the greedy flora. The tendrils stilled from the sudden surge of dark magic, but she did not let up. Farther and farther her power spread, the plants becoming locked in place, but still she continued. Frost formed on the nearest creepers, but only when every leaf, every thorn, every inch of stem was fully coated inside and out with ice did she recall her malevolent energies. She rose from her prone position, the vines restraining her snapping into pieces, and quickly restored her skin and clothes to their former states. A second thought flooded her blood with magic to destroy the toxins floating within.

Taking in the feel of the room, she harshly muttered, "Shatter."

The frozen plants obliged.

Her footsteps loud on the shards of ice now littering the floor, she made her way towards the door to the next room. Rather than open it, she simply blew it into the hallway beyond.

The fourth room was actually rather simple. Cubical with thirteen feet to a side, it held nothing more than a dozen false knights – life-sized, this time – and a small door covered in so many defensive charms that she could not feel where one stopped and the next began. Her analysis was cut short as the automatons raised their swords and brought their shields to bear.

She sighed, pocketing her wand and pointing her index fingers at the two nearest golems. Just for effect, she made the patterned rings around those digits spark fitfully. "You really don't want to try me right now." They rushed her only to immediately fall, explosive curses barking from her fingertips. Seconds later, she stepped over the last of the decapitated defenders. "Told you."

The heiress to the House of Black reclaimed her fir stick from her trousers, idly tapping it against the titanium bands around the fingers of her left hand. With eight rings total, she had quite a bit of leeway on how much wandless magic she could wield, though Sirius and Cissy both had asked that she use her blank wand as much as possible. There was a smaller chance of her slipping up and casting more spells than she had 'secondary foci' that way.

"Now, what am I going to do about you?" she asked the enchanted door. Reaching out with her magical sense, she brushed ethereal fingers through the webs of the wards. Oh, wow. Someone really went all out here. Wards to block finishing charms, repel blasting curses, counter transfiguration… All professionally erected, too, possibly to keep me from doing the exact thing I did in the Hufflepuff Task and manipulating the enchantments. Bypassing these is going to be tricky.

Several minutes ticked by as she pondered and occasionally sent a spell at the exit, none of which were the slightest bit successful. She would not say that the time was wasted, however; it allowed the tempestuous fury she had been nursing to blow itself out and let her reconsider the problem with a calm mind. "Oh, I am an idiot," she sighed. Feeling the doorway behind her, she estimated the walls were approximately only two inches thick. "All right, Professor Flitwick, you win this round. Way to make me eat my own words." Enchantments, animation charms, and lateral thinking; who else would have set this up besides the head of Ravenclaw house?

Changing solid stone to mud was a quick bit of magic, and soon she was climbing out the hole she had melted through the wall into yet another corridor. Four classes down: Charms, Herbology, possibly Transfiguration considering the pendulums and all the conjuring I had to do, and the first I don't know. Defense against the Dark Arts, maybe, but Moody never struck me as being that whimsical. What could possibly be next?

Her hand was already stretched out to open the door in front of her when her sensitive hearing picked up a disconcerting noise. Is that… clicking? She turned her head and laid one ear against the cool wood. It is. In fact, it's rather similar to the sound Loki's talons make when he walks on tile, just louder. Wary of what was laying in wait behind the door – the louder the noise, generally the larger the animal that made it – she backed up several paces and raised her wand. Hesitating, she moved a few steps farther away; no sense in not taking appropriate precautions. A flick of her wrist twisted the knob.

A tremendous bang echoed through the narrow hall, and something too fast for her to identify flew at her. Her reflexive banishing charm gave her breathing space and let her feel what had attacked her. The creature was repulsive: ten thin legs stuck out at odd angles from a bloated body, a massive tail tipped with a cruel stinger curled against its back. The creature had no head that she could feel; how it ate was a mystery to her. Completing the gruesome picture were the thick plates covering its body, for what monster was complete without natural armor?

Baron preserve me, that must be one of the Blast-Ended Scoots… Shoots? Skrewts?… things Tracey was complaining about all year. If that is what Care of Magical Creatures entails, I am very much glad I did not choose to take that class. Unfortunately, she forgot to tell me the most important piece of information.

How do I kill the damn thing?

The beast gathered its legs under it and began scuttling towards her, hunger obvious even to one without working eyes. Jen launched another explosive spell at it, grimacing when the curse skidded off the shell. And magically resistant, too. Joy. She fell back, spraying alternatively fire, lightning, and acid behind her, none of which pierced its defenses. If she let it, that thing would probably chase her all the way back to the tar room, and then she would be very much trapped.

Another bang and burst of flame erupted from the monstrosity's rear, shooting it forward where she again flung it fore-end over tail. As it waved its many legs pointlessly, she noticed that the shell on the underbelly felt more flexible than the rest of the plates. That's probably it's weak point. Now if it would only stay upside down, she griped as it righted itself. The swollen barb of the scorpion-like tail waved menacingly.

Wait… only one creature in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them was described as having a tail like that. Since this hideous thing just cannot be natural, I wonder if it's a manticore hybrid?

For the first time since she entered the Transfiguration room, Jen smiled; she had to buy the Ravenclaw head something nice over the summer. Raising her wand above her head while continuing her backwards staggering, she concentrated on the spell she had learned prior to the first Task. Layer upon layer of cutting curses were compressed into a thin plane, a noxious thread running through the blades to counter the manticore's specific brand of magical resistance. Her blank wand crossed from her left shoulder to right hip, and with a thunderous crack the crescent of sizzling magic flew forwards and through the fiend's front end. It shrieked in a high pitch for only a moment before its top half slid off the bottom, foul-smelling blood pouring from the bisecting wound.

Thank the Baron that Flitwick taught me the Demon Cutter, or that would have been much more difficult. The next best option would have probably been flipping it over again and blowing out the exposed underside. Too bad using the Killing Curse was out of the question, no matter that it wasn't human or even humanoid. Straightening from the slight crouch she had taken in relief, she walked towards the open door and the next only fifteen feet farther down the path. She kept her sonar on the massive tail crumpled on the floor, wary of any last-minute muscle spasms, but it seemed the monster was content to remain dead, much to her relief.

Cedric paled as he opened the door and found himself facing a gigantic stinger, connected to an even bigger beast. This was not what he signed up for.

A slight frown on his face, Danny cast the Inruptio spell on the door in front of him, surprised when it clicked open. Yes, this was a fairly advanced unlocking charm that Hermione had come across purely by chance, but he still could not help but feel that the Task was progressing far too easily. A pair of animated suits of armor that could be stopped with a simple finishing charm? A room filled with Devil's Snare? Pendulums he could halt with Immobulus and vats of boiling tar that had a wait time long enough for him to run past them, needing only a strong freezing spell to cool the liquid already on the pathway?

Something wasn't right here.

The sixth room was nothing like Jen was expecting. It was much like the previous hallway, with three small alcoves sunken into the walls at regular intervals. Nothing deadly about to lunge after me? No giant statue or killer plants? Now I'm getting nervous. Her steps were understandably cautious as she made her way down the path, sonar primed to feel any sudden movements.

Needless to say, she jumped and barely swallowed her startled scream when a wall of fire suddenly appeared no more than six inches in front of her foot.

Quickly moving away, she swung her sonar to feel the alcove to her immediate left. A slip of parchment lay innocently upon the bottom of the waist-high crevice, in the middle of a square of wood set flush with the stone of the walls. She lifted the material and ran her finger over it, not surprised when she heard Snape's voice in her head.

"Blocking your path is Ignis Proditoris. Below the trapdoor are three potions; one will protect you from the flames while the other two are poisons. Choose wisely."

"Oh, bloody fuck."

Well, this obstacle just became much trickier. Ingested potions have no effect on me, so this doesn't help at all, and while I've never heard of this type of fire, I'm pretty sure it'll burn me just fine. A little help here would be great.

She pulled the Portkey pendant out from under her blouse. This would be the perfect time to use it, but just as Bagman had warned, she had no idea how many other rooms lay between her and her goal. Each room had become progressively more difficult, and while she would probably be most disadvantaged in this one, there was nothing to say that the next wouldn't be more dangerous, just in a different way. To use or not to use?

I doubt all the obstacles in this room will be fire, she reminded herself, letting go of the necklace. There are three niches, so assuming I can get through this one, I should… I might have a better chance of working around them. It's dealing with the first that is my biggest problem. Too bad flame freezing charms only negate normal flames, and also that I don't have the time to analyze and modify the spell to work on these. What to do, what to do?

Hitting upon an idea, she conjured a foot-wide tube of tungsten and slid it into the flames. The metal disintegrated within seconds, scrapping her half-baked plan to run through a tunnel, but that there was a delay at all brought a relieved smile to her face. I'd have time. Not enough to cross on my own, but maybe if I had something around me? I could always get rid of it as soon as I was out of the danger zone. Of course, that assumes something other than the metal with the highest melting point can withstand this fire. I really don't want to roll through this in a giant hamster ball.

A strip of leather appeared in her hands, and she swept it along the edge of the blazing barrier, dropping it as soon as it was alight. Four seconds again; material clearly doesn't affect the time it takes to destroy something. She shook her head. Only magic. Still, this could be to my advantage. This time she manifested a wooden pole before covering the far end with more leather. A short brushing against the flames set it to burning, but vanishing the flaming fabric left her with undamaged wood. Yeah, that'll work.

A fifth conjuration rewarded her with a long bolt of hide that she quickly draped over her body. Excising the excess and sticking the ends together, it was half a minute later that she stood clad in a rough leather catsuit, tight against her body even with her clothes in between. A bunch of guys are going to be wanking to this image tonight, I just know it. She mentally shrugged and completed the ensemble with a spherical metal helmet, leaving every square inch of her body covered at the cost of cutting off her sonar. Her useless stick she pulled back into her right sleeve before sealing the edge.

The barrier was only ten feet wide; running through it like this would be dangerous, but it wasn't completely out of the question. Pushing off hard against the ground, she sprinted into the flames, adrenaline lending wings to her feet. After three seconds, she vanished the scorching leather to prevent the fire fully penetrating the suit and igniting her flesh as well. A breath of fresh air greeted her as she felt the hungry conflagration behind her; she had made it!

Her troubles were not over yet, unfortunately. Walking five feet farther along caused vapor to spill gently from vents in the walls, and again she picked up the professor's note. Instead of full sentences, it only had five words. Draught of the Living Death, huh? There's no telling how this is going to work. Normally only caustic or topical potions can affect me, even when aerosolized, but the Draught is one of the few concoctions that work on Muggles, which means it contains its own magic. But can it induce its effect purely through skin contact? That I'm unsure of. She approached the mist, idly noting how the potion was contained between two sheets of magic. A soft breath pushed away the fingers of fog reaching for her.

A smirk grew as she considered that. The fields only kept the mist in, not anything else out. Such a strategy made complete sense; the task would be absolutely impossible if the champions could not pass through them. Air would have to do the same unless the judges wanted them to suffocate inside should they choose the wrong potion. However, doing so also left a loophole that was readily exploitable.

Her wand spinning in her hand, she created a breeze behind her and sent it into the mist. A short flick of her wrist then gathered the displaced air into a cyclone, and she stepped confidently inside the whirling winds. Her hair whipped around her as she walked through the conjured twister and out the other side, not a single droplet of Draught able to force its way against the harsh gusts to land on her skin. Now past this obstacle, she let her cyclone die, and the vapor rushed to fill the void she had created. "Two down. One more to go."

She did not even bother approaching the third slip of paper, doubtful it would help her any more than the others had. Instead, she conjured a rock in her left hand and tossed it down the hall past the last alcove. Her mouth dropped open when twin tongues of lightning snapped out from opposite walls to strike and destroy it. "Talk about aggressive. Now, what is your secret?"

A shaft of steel entered the corridor next; again the thunderbolts lashed out, disintegrating half the bar. The remainder tumbled end over end to the ground and rolled to a stop. Well, well, a refractory period. That's interesting. She levitated the rest of the pole, only to have it eliminated as well. And the walls detect motion rather than presence. In that case, what about conjuration? She swiftly materialized another rock floating inside the killing field; it was vaporized when she let it fall, but not a moment before.

"This is actually the easiest of them all," she declared, creating sheets of corrugated steel against the walls. A third stone avoided its date with destruction; she shrugged and simply strode down the hall, kicking random debris ahead of her and adding more metal as needed. When her probe failed to garner a response, she turned to the viewing crystal hidden away in the corner, one hand over her breast with the other thrown wide, and gave a bow to her audience.

"Cheeky brat," Severus murmured, his voice drowned out by the enthusiastic cheering of the students in response to Black's little stunt. Not that he could really blame her for succumbing to theatrics; he had honestly expected her to need her Portkey considering there was no way a fourth-year, no matter how talented and especially not a blind one, could have identified the potions necessary to move through the traps unscathed. Neutralizing all three of them with nothing more than conjuration and a few charms was actually quite a feat.

His Durmstrang colleague, an attractive if exceedingly arrogant Swedish woman, sniffed delicately. "She should be penalized for flouting the rules as she did; not once did she even look at the potions we provided her."

"So you teach your younger students to recognize Firewalking Philter or True Love's Kiss? I'm impressed; I don't trust my own with potions that difficult until their sixth or seventh year."

"What? Of course that is not what I am saying, but she should haff followed the instructions for the Task! Once already she has had points deducted for that exact thing."

"Points taken for a patently false reason," Beauxbaton's Potion Master Jean Bouteille interjected. "I agree wiz Maître Snape; she deed what she could wiz ze options at 'and. If anyzeeng, she should be commended for such queeck zeenking."

"I will relay that compliment to her," Severus stated as he watched the subject of their conversation finally walk through the next doorway. He brushed crumbs off his robes and prepared to leave at the earliest convenience. This Task would soon be over.

The door in front of her opened at the slightest push, and Jen stepped carefully into the room beyond. She was shocked at what she felt right in front of her; it was the Triwizard Cup, unguarded and unclaimed! She had won!

"Proklet payak! Vŭrvi si!"

Her head reflexively whipped around at the pained and angry shout, now paying attention to the rest of the room, and she was shocked at the scene in front of her. Viktor lay on the ground, blood seeping from one leg, as he tried his best to fend off the huge Acromantula that she could only guess desired to eat him. From the drunken way he was waving his wand, it wasn't far from its goal.

She turned back to the Cup before again switching her focus to the Bulgarian. Three times she did this before finally making a decision. "What the hell is wrong with me?" she wondered aloud as she sprinted past the trophy.

The spider's eyes were all staring at its prey, a fact she took shameless advantage of. Snapping two spells towards it, the lightning bolt alerted it to her presence. The monster twisted around in time to catch a fireball to the face. It staggered back, and an explosive curse to the juncture of its two segments flung it away from her shag-buddy and friend, though it did not cleave the beast in twain as she hoped. She dropped to his side and redirected her sonar for a detailed examination of his oozing wound. "This the only place it got you?"

"Da. Mislya, che… I dink it put otrova in me. My leg… numb."

"All right, that's not good. Hang on—"

"Vatch out!"

She shifted her awareness at his cry in time to feel the arachnid lunging towards them. Another spell had it flung back to earth, and her fury boiled over for the second time in the past hour. "Why… won't… you… just… bloody… die!" she screamed, every word punctuated with another curse and another step towards the creature. It clicked its mandibles together angrily, still trying to raise to its feet even with half its legs ripped out of its body. "I've had just about enough of your species this year! If fire won't kill you, let's try ice!" A javelin of frost formed above her and streaked towards the creature, piercing its head and spilling venom and blood onto the ground.

The remaining legs twitched once, twice, then were still.

She hastily returned to Viktor, who had started muttering to himself in broken Bulgarian. Ignoring her prop entirely, she laid one hand on the drooling bite and fused his torn muscles and skin. It wasn't her best repair job – that distinction would probably go to the miracle she had worked on Ingrid's severed spine – but she was more concerned with keeping him from bleeding out, not to mention saving the use of his leg. When it came to healing, no matter if it was magical or Muggle, time was the most important factor.

Now assured that he would not immediately die on her, she turned her attention to the poison flowing through his veins. She laid the tip of her blank wand on the middle of his chest while slipping her left hand under his shirt to rest on his ribs. Her magic poured into him with less effort that she would have expected, likely a lingering result of their coitus just a few days previously, and she rapidly degraded the toxin in his body. The tradeoff on his part was quite a bit of pain if his feverish moans were any indication.

It's a good thing it didn't shoot too much into him, she told herself as her power burnt out the last of the poison. Another bite or two, and I don't know that I'd be able to get rid of it fast enough to help him.

It was clear that damage had already been done from his nonsensical mutterings, however, and with a hint of regret she sent him to blessed unconsciousness. "This just doesn't seem very fair, does it?"

"Hey, the Cup!"

Potter's voice frayed the tenuous control she had reasserted over her anger, and a flick of her wand flung him into a wall. She stood and slowly began walking towards him and the trophy; if she moved too quickly, she was afraid she would just kill the boy on instinct. "Learn your place, Potter. This prize is mine."

"Not if I – Argh!" He grabbed his broken left arm, the limb dangling uselessly. "Merlin's beard, Black!"

"Exactly. I'm a Black, and we don't suffer thieves." He pulled his hand away from his injury to aim his wand at her, and she felt her free fingers curl of their own accord. "Try it. Let's see just how quickly I can take you out."

"Whoa! Both of you, calm down!"

Potter shifted his gaze away from her at Cedric's cry, a grave mistake. A flick of her wrist quickly had him wrapped in constricting ropes, and a second pulled his wand out of his hand. She deflected the flying focus with her own stick. "Word to the wise: never let yourself be distracted in a fight." He barely had time to glare before her stunner caught him in the middle of his chest.

"Jen, why did you do that?" the sixth-year asked with a put-upon sigh. "There was a nonviolent alternative."

"Such as?"

"Well, I was going to propose he use the Portkey as well. Two or three of us doesn't matter; it's still a Hogwarts victory."

…It takes two to win the prize. I had completely forgotten about that little wrinkle, she thought as she dismissed the stunning spell forming behind her back that she had planned to hurl at the senior. "Except for the fact that he was entered under an entirely different school according to Moody. Besides, I really don't want to share my place in the winners' circle with a cheat."

He shook his head. "So instead you made an enemy you didn't need? That's uncharacteristically short-sighted of you."

"Adding a few branches will not make a bonfire larger," was her sagacious retort. "Potter already hates me, so what does one more conflict do? Besides, we don't even know if the conditions of the Portkey are to activate when there are at least two people grasping it or only two people. In the latter case, we'd just have to fight anyway. Not to mention," she pointed at the crystals hidden in each corner of the room, "do you think our viewers mind their show having a little more drama?"

He closed the gap between them and whispered, "So that was all playing to the crowd?"

Her reply was equally soft. "We're the main attractions in a bloodsport game; like the gladiators of old, we need to keep the audience entertained unless we want them throwing us to the lions." She stepped back and picked up the crystal Cup by one handle. "That said, I think it's finally time for the curtain to fall and the actors to take a bow. Let's get out of here."

"Will he be all right, you think?" Cedric asked hesitantly, nodding his head towards the fallen fourth-year.

"I'm much more concerned about Viktor's health than Potter's at this moment, or any other, for that matter. That said, yes, I expect they'll be fine. There are probably Healers standing by just waiting for us to leave so they can pick up their charges."

He smiled weakly. "Then we shouldn't waste any more of their time." He gripped his side of the trophy, and the pair disappeared.

This is why Dumbledore refused to let me design the traps for book 1; they would have been impossible for mere first-years to get through. In a direct nod to that little "test", the Ignis Proditoris in the Potions room was the same black fire Snape used to protect the Philosopher's Stone.

Quick confession: I very nearly wrote Sprout's killer plants as a species exclusive to Japan that had an unhealthy interest in molesting schoolgirls, just for shits and giggles. Be glad I didn't; it wouldn't have ended well for anyone.

shlyukha: prostitute, whore, tart, slut… you get the general idea.

Proklet payak! Vŭrvi si!: Damn spider! Go away!

otrova: venom

Silently Watches out.