The Maze
"Hardwin Potter married… Iolanthe Peverell," William whispered as he scanned the family tree his father had put together.
Henry Potter had never mentioned he had been looking into the family history, but the man had clearly invested much time into the undertaking. Stacks upon stacks of parchment and books had been secured in the trunk William had found in the hidden compartment of his father's desk.
There had always been an air of mystery around the Potters. Most knew they had come from Wales, where they continued to live, but as the family grew in prominence over the generations, little had been forthcoming from William's ancestors as to their origins.
Henry Potter seemed to have provided the answers, though the discoveries he'd made raised more questions for William.
"Peverell…" he murmured as he began rifling through the stacks of parchment.
He knew that he had heard that name before, he just couldn't remember from where and in what context.
"Ah, Peverell," he exclaimed as he came upon a single sheet of parchment in reference to his ancestors. "Prominent Welsh family… Godric's Hollow…Ignotus…Gawain…"
The document appeared to be an official Ministry of Magic piece, and yet, it contained only the most basic of information.
"How very strange," William sighed as he added the parchment back to the pile.
Perhaps his father managed to uncover more information about them that he would come across?
Nonetheless, William was certain he knew the name already, though he simply could not place it.
He was pulled from his thoughts by a knock at the door to his study.
"Come in," he called, smiling as his wife entered. "What's wrong?" he asked, noticing that the woman had been crying.
"It is not bad news, Will," Angelica assured him. "I think I might be pregnant."
William froze for a moment before h stood slowly, hardly believing his ears.
They had been trying for a baby for the past decade with no luck, and even as his wife spoke the words he had been most eager to hear, they did not register in his mind.
"Say that again," he urged.
Angelica positively beamed at him as another wave of tears spilled down her cheeks.
"I'm pregnant, Will."
William swallowed as he nodded, his own grin forming as he approached his wife and wrapped his arms around her.
"Are you certain?"
Angelica nodded against his chest.
She had never said it, but William had no doubt that she blamed herself for their inability to conceive. Now, however, all of the stress and pressure they had put on themselves could be forgotten.
Whether they had a son or daughter, the Potter legacy would live on, and William could not be happier.
"We must celebrate," he declared. "I will take you for a nice dinner and then we can start thinking of things we will need to get for the baby."
Angelica chuckled and rested a hand on his forearm.
"All in good time, Will. The baby isn't coming for at least six months yet."
William nodded and took some calming breaths.
He was going to be a father. The thought terrified him as much as it excited him, but there had never been anything he'd wanted more.
Harry smiled as he was pulled through the familiar void, sharing in the joy of the Potters that had come before him, even if it was a short-lived escape from his own burdens.
William Potter.
The man had been only a few generations ahead of Harry at most judging by the date on the newspaper he had spotted on the man's desk. Soon enough, he would see his own father's life unfold before his eyes, should Fate not see fit to interfere once more.
Harry shook his head as he gazed across the lake.
It had taken him the better part of two months to return here to speak with the merepeople. Even being accompanied by Dumbledore, it was not something he had been looking forward to.
The experience proved to be a bittersweet one.
The new Chieftain, Aurelius, had been nothing short of apologetic and concerned for the welfare of his kind.
He believed that after what had occurred during the second task, that they would no longer be welcome in what had become their home over the course of the past centuries.
He'd even been worried that the Ministry would have them culled in response to what had happened.
Harry certainly did not wish for that to happen.
What became immediately clear to him was that the merepeople were gentle in their ways, wishing only to live in peace under the protections that Hogwarts provided them.
Aurelius had apologised profusely, had introduced Harry to his wife and new-born daughter, and had all but pleaded with him to not exact revenge upon his people.
For Harry, it had been humbling.
He had assured Aurelius that he bore the man no grudge and would not allow the merepeople to be punished. He'd even returned the trident he'd been gifted and they'd parted on good terms with the Chieftain safe in the knowledge that there would be no further reprisals.
Harry could not hold what happened against them.
They had been victims in the machinations of whomever had sabotaged the task as much as he was.
Nevertheless, how the events of his venture into the lake had unfolded still weighed heavily upon him.
The scars he'd received had barely faded, and Harry was reminded of what he faced whenever he removed is shirt and caught sight of the purple, puckered flesh across his chest.
With the third task only days away, the trepidation of what was to come only grew.
Most others were seemingly excited for the conclusion of the tournament, but Harry found no joy in the impending event.
Indeed, the tournament would come to a close, but his focus was solely on what would undoubtedly befall him during the final stretch. Despite having done his utmost to identify whom it was interfering; Harry had drawn a blank.
The merepeople remembered nothing, and even Dumbledore had been unable to find any further clues.
What Harry did know, however, was that everything led back to Voldemort. Someone may have been acting on his behalf, but it was the Dark Lord who ultimately wished for Harry to be killed.
It was disconcerting facing what Harry could assume was little more than an odd spectre, a phantom whom most believed was dead.
Harry released a calming breath.
"Come on girl, go spread your wings."
He smiled as the Thestral cantered out of the cloak and took to the sky. He'd been uncertain how the creature could be of assistance to him, but Malory, as he had taken to call her, offered a comforting presence in his moments of self-doubt.
The world had forgotten Malory Gaunt, but Harry had not.
She neither spoke nor could truly help him, but she listened as he unburdened himself of all the things he couldn't share with anyone else and had an odd fascination with his ears.
At the very least, she was a companion he could speak of his visions to, and he had come to appreciate her, even if he was still unsure of why Death had gifted him a Thestral.
Perhaps she was intended only to fill the role of confidant, but Harry didn't think so.
Even when he didn't wear the cloak, he could feel her, a connection that only seemed to grow stronger, almost similarly to the bond he shared with his wand.
Harry didn't understand it, but it wasn't as though Malory was an unwelcome addition to his life.
The same could be said for Katie.
Had anyone told him that inviting her to the ball would have led to where they were now, he wouldn't have believed it. If anything, he thought that what had happened in the lake would have convinced that he only seemed to attract trouble and that she would pull away from him.
She hadn't.
If anything, she had prevented Harry from pulling away from her in his darker moments, when the thoughts of what lurked on the horizon plagued him and he wanted nothing more than to hide from it for a while.
Katie had not allowed him to do that.
He'd try to retreat, and she would somehow tighten the grip she had on him. It was not to parade him around nor draw attention to them, but to keep him from going under when the burden became too heavy to bear.
Without even knowing what it was, Katie shouldered some of it for him, distracting Harry when he needed it most simply by being there.
They would fly together, talk about school, and even often discuss the things they wished to experience with one another.
Harry didn't know how or when it happened, but Katie had become deeply important to him, more so when she probably should have run from him but chose to stay.
The smile that crested his lips came easily as he thought of the times they'd spent together.
Harry couldn't explain it but being with Katie was an escape from everything else. When he was with her, he felt as close to what he would consider to be normal.
In those moments, there was no Voldemort, no visions, and no enemies that wished to see the end of Harry. It was just the two of them being foolish teenagers, and revelling in the shared intimacy they provided for one another.
Nonetheless, Harry never truly managed to forget everything else, but somehow, Katie made all of it seem less worrisome, for a while at least.
"Come girl," he called, watching as Malory turned in the air and made her way back towards him.
Harry had told no one about the Thestral, the same way he had kept everything pertaining to the Peverells to himself.
It wasn't that he thought that he would not be believed by those that mattered if he did explain. It was more that the entire saga of his ancestors was a part of his own journey, and it was the one thing he managed to keep entirely for himself.
The Peverells and the Potters were tied to his blood, and though some may call him selfish, they were his memories, and his ancestors to hoard.
Other than what he had with Nicholas and Perenelle, it was the closest Harry had ever had to a family.
"Did you enjoy yourself, girl?"
The Thestral snorted and butted him in the chest with the top of her head.
She really did remind him of Malory; stubborn, misunderstood, and certainly in possession of quite the temper if she felt she had been slighted.
Poor Buckbeak had learned that when he'd attempting to approach Harry and the possessive Thestral had taken exception to it. They had grown to tolerate the presence of one another, but Harry didn't hold out much hope that they would become friends.
He chuckled as Malory prodded him with her nose. She did that when she wanted some of his attention.
"Alright," he sighed, "but then we have to go back in."
It was late in the evening with only a few days before the final task, and although Harry had been preparing extensively for it, he knew he would not feel ready when the time came to enter the maze.
So many things could go wrong within the hedgerows, but his determination to win had not wavered.
As such, he had worked tirelessly over the past months on all aspects of his magic. From morning until night, it was all he thought about, and when he wasn't thinking about it, he could be found on the seventh floor with his wand in hand, practicing and doing his utmost to perfect his efforts.
As things were, Harry could only hope it would be enough to see him through whatever was coming. The second task was a reminder of what the outcome would be if he were to fail or fall victim to whatever Voldemort had waiting for him.
No, he simply could not fail.
With that in mind, he urged Malory to return to the cloak so that he could make his way back to the castle.
There was work to be done. There was always something he could do to better himself.
"Come Death, come," Harry murmured to himself, gripping the pendant he'd made from one of Malory's broken claws.
(Break)
Katie breathed a sigh of relief as she finished her Transfiguration essay. With her OWLs fast approaching, the additional assignments were the last thing she needed, though they served to distract her from revising too much for her exams.
She looked towards the clock above the fireplace and frowned.
It was close to two am and Harry had still not returned from his walk. He'd left almost five hours ago, and though it wasn't uncommon for him to be out until the small hours, he'd said he wouldn't be long.
Katie sighed as she packed her things away.
Despite the tournament and everything else Harry did, he never failed to make some time for her, even if it was when everyone else had gone to bed.
Not that she was complaining.
Even now, she was simply grateful for him still being around at all after what had occurred during the second task.
She did find it odd, however, that he had seemingly gotten it over so quickly. He no longer mentioned what he'd endured to survive, as though the entire episode had been the norm for him.
It saddened Katie that he had shown little regard for his own life. She knew that Harry could be selfless, that he was willing to give so much, but she had all but pleaded with him to be a little more selfish during the final task.
Sitting in the Hospital Wing day upon day was not a nightmare she wished to repeat, though she would if she had to.
She simply though that much of him.
"What happened to you?" she asked as the boy of her thoughts entered the Common Room.
He looked exhausted, his robes were torn in several places, and the lingering smell of burning surrounded him.
"Just some extra training," he answered with a reassuring smile. "Why are you still up?"
"I was waiting for you. Someone has to make sure you're taking care of yourself," she huffed as she wrapped her arms around him. "And you didn't have any dinner."
"I forgot," Harry said sheepishly.
Katie hummed as she pulled him towards one of the seats by the fireplace and removed a wrapped package from her bag.
"I thought you might have, so I made sure to bring some for you. Now eat."
Harry smirked, saluting before he did as he was bid.
For someone who had lectured her several times about overdoing it with studying for her OWLs, he was pretty poor at taking his own advice. He often missed meals and did not sleep much. Harry insisted he was fine, but that did not stop Katie worrying about him.
"Don't you think you're doing too much?" she asked gently, taking the free hand that wasn't occupied by the sandwich she had put together for him. "I know you want to win…"
"It's not just that," Harry sighed as he put the sandwich down. "I just want to be prepared just in case…"
"Just in case?"
"Just in case it goes like the second task," he answered tiredly.
"Well, this time, you only have yourself to worry about, Harry," Katie pointed out. "It won't be like the lake again."
He did not seem convinced but he did not comment on it further.
"What have you been doing to yourself?" Katie asked as she wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "I've seen less and less of you, and no one else has seen you around the past few weeks."
"Sorry," Harry murmured. "I suppose I've thrown everything into this, haven't I? I'll make it up to you."
"You don't have to make it up to me, you prat. I just want you to look after yourself. I know you wanted to avoid the media and everyone else after what happened, but that didn't mean you had to avoid me too."
"I wasn't avoiding you. I just lose track of time."
Katie hummed.
"Well, maybe you do have some making up to do then," she decided with a grin.
He blushed; a reaction Katie found to only be endearing.
It reminded her somewhat of how Harry had been when they first met, though he was no longer so meek and shy. He had grown, and only more so this year.
He was not cocky nor arrogant despite having more reason to be than most. He really was kind, strong, and with a cheeky and mischievous side to him that many didn't get to see.
Harry had grown on her, and though they had never really spoken about how they felt about one another, there never felt that need to. Although he had been rather absent in the lead up to the third task, they still seemed to gravitate towards one another.
"But that can wait until after you win the stupid tournament," Katie added.
"Stupid tournament?" Harry asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.
Katie nodded.
"If anything almost gets you killed, then it's stupid," she returned evenly.
"Quidditch?"
"Quidditch is different. Quidditch is worth dying for."
Harry laughed heartily, his eyes full of mirth as he did so and Katie found herself smiling. He didn't laugh enough, but when the final task was over, she wanted to hear it more often.
It only made it all the better knowing she was the cause for his joy, even if it was only temporary.
"I like seeing you smile," Katie said shyly. "You shouldn't frown as much as you do."
"I don't always frown."
"You frown just as much as Snape."
Harry grimaced.
"Thanks for that," he grumbled.
"Oh, cheer up," Kate huffed as she nudged him. "I can't imagine you ever being really as miserable as that git. You just need something to cheer you up."
"Is that right? What do you have in mind?"
Katie nodded as a playful smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
Without thought, she leaned and pressed her lips against his.
This wasn't the first time they had kissed. They had done so several times, but this was different. Before it had been affectionate, tentative, and restrained. This time, however, she found herself melting into him, giving into a passion and desire that had always been there, but had been kept at bay.
Angelina and Alicia had said that kissing could bring about many things, but Katie had not been prepared for what she felt in this moment.
It wasn't the song and dance that was written about in romantic novels, and her head didn't swim so much that she lost touch with the reality of what was happening.
Her chest, however, did fill with an indescribable warmth of adoration, of the want and care she felt for Harry, so much so that she did not want it to end.
She gasped gently as it ended, revelling in the tingling permeating throughout her.
"That definitely cheered me up," Harry whispered as they rested their heads together.
Katie nodded.
"I didn't even think I needed cheering up, but it worked."
Harry chuckled, and Katie felt her cheeks reddening as the high of what had happened began to ebb away.
"Finish your sandwich, Harry," she urged as she stood. "And make sure you get some rest, for me."
He offered her a wry smile as he nodded.
"I will."
"Good," Katie replied. "You can kiss me again if you'd like."
Harry didn't need telling twice, and as he complied, she felt the very same need and tenderness she'd felt, emanating from him. It was indescribable, and made Katie feel as though she truly mattered to someone on a level she'd never experienced before.
"Take your own advice," Harry murmured when they broke apart. "You've been working too hard to."
Katie could only nod before heading towards the staircase leading up to the dormitories, attempting to process all that had happened in the past moments.
She couldn't, but as she readied herself for bed, she knew that the nature of their relationship had changed significantly.
It was no longer merely two people sharing and enjoying some affection with one another, it had become so much more and seemingly, none of them had realised just how much it had developed since the night of the ball.
What it meant, Katie didn't know, but it made her just as excited as it did nervous to see where it would all lead to.
The other Chasers had always told her she was missing out, and Katie had been dismissive of such foolishness. Not now.
Now she truly understood what they had meant when they'd said being with a boy was special in its own way, and though Katie would not have believed it, it truly was becoming as special as any feeling Quidditch had ever given her.
(Break)
"Mr Crouch asked me to pass on his apologies, Professor," Percy offered as he took a sip of his tea.
The young man looked tired.
He had evidently been shouldering Barty's responsibilities to the Department of International Magical Cooperation in the light the man's illness.
"How long has he been unwell?" Albus asked.
Percy shook his head.
"For a while now," he sighed. "It all started with the tournament business. He's been in the office all hours, and it wasn't until the Minister himself insisted he took some time to recover that he finally listened to someone. He has his good days and bad days, but we're all worried about him. I'm sure you've noticed he's not been himself recently."
Albus wouldn't profess to know Barty Crouch well.
Since the war with Voldemort concluded, the man had been rather aloof. He'd always been driven, however, and it was no surprise to the headmaster that Barty had thrown himself into his work.
With his wife having passed away and his only son having perished in Azkaban, the Ministry was all he had.
It was rather disconcerting that the life he had chosen to lead had led to whatever was ailing him.
Albus had noticed that he looked more tired than usual, but he had not suspected that his health was failing him so.
Nonetheless, it was inevitable really.
If the man was working even more than he was previously since the topic of the tournament had been broached, it was truly no surprise that his health had deteriorated.
"When are you expecting him back?"
Percy shrugged and stifled a yawn.
"Minister Fudge will not allow it until he is cleared by a healer, and Mr Crouch can be quite stubborn. He says his elf is more than sufficient to give him the care he needs."
Albus shook his head.
Crouch had always been stubborn, and that certainly would not have changed with age.
"Very well," he murmured. "Would you like some quarters in the castle."
"That would be most appreciated, headmaster," Percy said gratefully. "There is nothing pressing at the Ministry, and if I am needed, someone will send for me."
Albus offered the young man a smile.
Percy Weasley had been a bright a student, and ambitious to boot. Despite the toll his role was taking on him, he was doing rather admirably for one so young.
Perhaps in only a few years, he would be primed for a rather prominent position himself.
"Then I will make the arrangements," Albus declared. "Welcome back to Hogwarts, Mr Weasley. I trust you have not forgotten your way around the castle."
"No," Percy chuckled. "I remember it well enough."
(Break)
Barty paced the breadth of his quarters, muttering under his breath as he attempted to piece together the final steps of his plan. Much to his chagrin, the Dark Lord had refused the offer of Potter's blood he had gathered from the shore of the lake, insisting that it needed to be fresh and that he wished for Potter to bear witness to his rise.
In Barty's opinion, it was a poor choice.
The ritual the Dark Lord intended to undertake was untested, and there was no telling what the results would be.
Nonetheless, Barty would respect the wishes of his master, even if they did interfere with his own plans.
"Potter must live," he murmured.
Somehow, he needed the boy to unwittingly provide what was necessary for the Dark Lord, yet, he needed Potter to escape so that he could carry out Barty's desires.
He would never raise his wand to his master's followers himself, but Potter would not need any convincing to do so.
He was the perfect tool to be rid of the traitors and those that had only looked out for themselves when the Dark Lord had needed them most.
Barty spat on the floor at the thought of Malfoy, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, and the others.
They were not worthy of the mark they bore, nor to be held in such high regard.
The Dark Lord would punish them, of that, Barty had no doubt, but it wasn't enough.
They deserved only to pay the ultimate price, and should all go to plan, they would.
Nevertheless, it meant that Potter would have to live.
That was another thought that filled Barty with displeasure, an unease he could not ignore, but he would not be deterred. With only a few manipulations on his part, Potter would have all he needed to do what was required.
Would it be enough?
Barty paused as he pondered the boy.
He was talented, more so than he'd expected, yet, he seemed to lack the needed ruthlessness to eliminate many of the inner circle.
Something would have to be done, and though Barty had been toying with the idea of providing Potter with the right motivation, he hadn't fully convinced himself of the need until this very moment.
He grinned at the thought.
If all went to plan, Barty would be unburdened of much that plagued him, and in the process, he would create a monster of his own.
Not that Potter would ever be a threat to the Dark Lord himself, but the boy could, without knowing it, help Barty more than he could ever have hoped.
Yes, Potter would be a monster.
Chuckling to himself, he kicked the trunk that held Mad-Eye Moody.
"Did you hear that, you old bastard? Oh, don't worry, I still have use of you."
"Fuck off!" Moody huffed weakly.
Barty shook his head at the sight of the famed auror.
He was not so far from death. Moody was weakened from lack of food and the torture Barty had inflicted upon him to ensure he remained compliant.
Nonetheless, he would be put out of his misery soon enough.
The final task was only a day away, and Barty had other things that required his attention before it began.
The very thought of what was to come filled him with excitement.
Finally, his work here would be done, and he would be able to be where he was meant to; by the side of the master that had shown him the truth of the world they lived in.
Barty smiled gleefully.
Only one more day and the Dark Lord would be back.
(Break)
The castle was silent as Harry made his way towards the Entrance Hall. Already, the stands in the Quidditch stadium would be full to capacity, and in only a matter of moments, Harry would be stepping into the maze to face what awaited him.
He had slept little the previous night, the same feeling of unease that had set in leading up to the second task having returned. Only this time, it was much worse.
With the lake, it had been more of an instinctual warning of danger. As he stepped out of the castle, it was a sense of imminent danger that was inevitably going to befall him.
"Come along, Potter!" Percy Weasley snapped as he spotted Harry.
The other champions had already gathered in front of the judges, and as Harry reached them, their own nervousness was palpable.
Cedric offered him a nod of encouragement, and Fleur attempted to smile, though it fell flat.
They had not become friends since he'd pulled the veela from the lake, but Fleur had no longer attempted to belittle him. If anything, she was trying to be more courteous, greeting him warmly when their paths crossed, and offering updates about Gabrielle when there was news.
"Now that we are all here, it is my duty to inform you of what the task entails," Bagman began excitedly. "It is simple enough; the first to reach the centre of the maze and retrieve the Triwizard cup, will be the winner. As Mr Potter is in the lead, he will enter first, followed by Mr Krum four minutes later. Mr Diggory will be next, two minutes after Mr Krum, and Miss Delacour will be the last to enter, a full six minutes after Mr Potter. Any questions?"
The champions shook their heads.
"Good, then take your places at the entrance to the maze, and Mr Potter, you will enter at the sound of the claxon."
With that, the judges turned to leave, and Dumbledore offered Harry a nod.
He'd never seen the headmaster so nervous, and it only added to the burden of Harry's own.
"You ready?" Cedric asked.
"It's not like we have much choice, is it?"
Cedric snorted humourlessly and clapped Harry on the shoulder.
"Be careful in there, Harry," he sighed.
"You too."
As they reached the entrance to the maze, indicated by where Moody was waiting for them, Harry turned towards the crowd and where those clad in gold and maroon were standing. From here, he couldn't make any of them out, but someone had created a banner where he could see two crops of matching red hair.
He gave the Weasley twin a tentative wave, knowing that was where the rest of the Quidditch team would be, along with Ron and Hermione.
Once more, a deep, unsettling wave of nervousness washed over him as he stared at the ominous opening in the hedge. Bagman had made the task seem so easy, and perhaps it should have been if there wasn't something positively sinister lingering on the fringes.
No, it would not be so simple, and as Harry drew his wand in preparation, he squeezed the Thestral claw that hung a little above his heart.
"Come Death, come," he whispered, walking into the maze when the claxon sounded a moment later.
It was eerily silent, and Harry's senses were on high alert as an envelope bearing his name appeared in front of him. With a frown, he flicked his wand at it, finding nothing amiss beyond it appearing here.
With another flick, it opened, and a sheet of parchment unfurled within. The writing was unfamiliar, but Harry was uncertain if he should believe what he was reading.
Potter,
If you wish to see her alive again, you will follow my commands without hesitation. You are to make it to the centre of the maze first where further instructions await.
Do not attempt to deviate from my instructions. She will die before you could hope to even get close to her. I am watching closely…
Be quick about it, Potter…
Harry's frown deepened, and the sense of unease he'd been feeling only worsened as the envelope and letter crumble to dust, followed by a gentle thud.
On the floor before him was the one thing that ascertained the authenticity of the threat he'd received.
Katie had not removed the necklace since the night of the ball, and she would not have done so willingly.
"FUCK!" Harry seethed, a mixture of righteous fury and dread washing over him.
He wanted nothing more than to burn his way back through the maze, but he knew that he couldn't. Whomever it was behind this had already proven that murder was not beyond them, and though Harry despised doing so, he knew his only hope of getting to Katie would be to do as he'd been instructed.
Scooping up the necklace he had gifted her, he stepped forward with a growl; his wand poised to tear through anything that dared step into his path as he began sprinting for all he was worth.
(Break)
Barty grinned as the ground trembled from an explosion that originated from within the maze, silencing the crowd for a moment. Evidently, Potter was taking him seriously, and as the flashes of spell fire continued, he shifted his gaze towards the waiting champions.
All he needed to do now was ensure they were unable to beat Potter to the centre of the maze, and then the most uncertain phase of his plan would come.
He all but trembled in gleeful nervousness, waiting for the right moment to strike.
Dumbledore may have insisted that the Ministry provide some aurors for the task, but the fools were powerless to prevent what was coming.
The Dark Lord would return this evening, and the landscape of magical Britain would shift back to where it had been only thirteen years ago.
(Break)
"Bloody hell, what's going on in there?" Ron asked as another loud explosion rent the air.
"I don't know," Hermione murmured. "He's not holding back is he?"
"Can you blame him?" Angelina questioned. "After what happened during the second task, he won't want to take any chances. Have you seen him today, Katie?"
"This morning," Katie answered.
The girl was pale, almost catatonic as she stared towards the maze, and Ron shared a look with Hermione who shook her head.
Katie was more nervous than the rest of them and had barely spoken a word since they'd left the castle to watch the final task of the tournament.
"Shit," George cursed as a bright, white light erupted from somewhere within the hedgerows.
Ron could only nod his agreement.
Without being able to see what was happening in the maze, they could only wait to see who would emerge with the cup.
By now, the other champions had entered, but Ron could not see how they hoped to catch Harry. From the outside, they had been able to track his path of destruction, and at this rate, he would be arriving close to the centre shortly.
(Break)
Harry burned away the remains of the boggart that had taunted him, posing as Katie's corpse. It reminded him of what was at stake, and he pressed on, pausing as a sudden, feminine scream sounded from somewhere far behind him.
Delacour would have to find a way to overcome whatever it was she faced. There was not a thing that would deter Harry from the path ahead.
Red sparks followed the scream, so the girl had managed to call for help at the very least.
Three times already he'd found himself at a dead end, and he could not afford to waste more time.
He lit the tip of his wand as he heard an ominous scuttling sound ahead, and he cursed under his breath as one of Hagrid's blast-ended-Skrewts shot towards him.
Snapping his wand upwards, the creature was hurled over the hedge, into another section of the maze.
With the odd creature dealt with, he sprinted forward, wiping the sweat from his brow before dispatching of an Acromantula with a severing curse that removed the legs of the arachnid.
It screeched, clicking its pincers together menacingly as Harry passed it and rounded the next corner.
Once more, he paused, though not because there was another obstacle in his way. It was the sight of the plinth ahead, and sitting atop it, the Triwizard Cup.
Harry broke into a sprint, tearing his robes on the hedges that closed the path as they attempted to swallow him up. With a curse, he sent a stream of fire behind him, granting enough of a reprieve that he could reach the clearing the cup rested in.
Immediately as he entered, another envelope appeared in front of him, and Harry wasted no time in tearing it open.
Potter,
Believe it or not, I wish for you to live another day for reasons I will not share.
The cup is a portkey that will take you to where you need to be, and it will bring you back to Hogwarts, but only after thirty minutes after you arrive at your first destination.
Her life depends on you making it back…
Harry swallowed deeply as the letter and envelope blew away as ash in the wind, and Katie's wand fell to the ground.
He bent down to retrieve it, only for the world to fade to black as something struck him in the side.
His last thought was that he had been so focused on the note that he had not paid enough attention to his surroundings, and now, there was no telling what was to befall him.
