On the morning of the Third Task, Harry had woken before his alarm. After twisting and turning for another twenty minutes, he'd given up and hauled himself out of bed and into the shower. The sun had been already high in the sky when he'd finally made it to the Great Hall for breakfast, having taken a longer route as if doing so would have delayed the inevitable. Breakfast had already been halfway through and most students had their noses buried deep in books, notes or, in a few select cases, in pots of coffee after cramming well into the wee hours. Hermione had had two books laid out across her lap, a roll of parchment next to her plate and an idle half-forgotten slice of toast in her left hand. Katie and Leanne had already left for their last OWL exam, while Lisa had been quizzing Sue about History of Magic.

When the students had begun to gather their things and filter out, Professor Flitwick had come over and asked Harry to follow him.

That's how he found himself in an empty classroom, enveloped in a crushing hug.

"Let the poor boy breathe, Nymphadora," Andromeda chuckled, only to hug Harry the moment her daughter let go while Edward squeezed his shoulder.

"Anything new?" he asked anxiously, only to be met with silence. Eventually, Tonks chose to speak up.

"The DMLE never put much effort into looking at your entry into the tournament. Mad-Eye was on the case, and that's about it. However, ever since the mess with Crouch, they have him questioning the Department of International Cooperation. Bones and Scrimgeour are convinced that there is a mole involved, but the one who had the most contact with Crouch was Percy Weasley. And Bertha disappeared before he began working at the Ministry. The Minister himself got Moody to have a closer look at Bagman, thinking that maybe history repeated itself. You might have noticed that he hasn't been in the castle much recently. Other than some serious debts owed to the goblins, Bagman's background check came back clean."

"So, they've got nothing?"

"No, and your best bet at finding the culprit is by digging through Ludo's dirty accounts," Tonks said with a shrug. "Mind you, he hasn't found anything in the months since you were entered, so I doubt he would discover anything now."

"Then what's my game plan?"

"Constant vigilance."

"That's it?" Harry frowned in disbelief.

"Without knowing what the plot is, we can't do anything to stop it. You said it yourself last time, maybe someone entered you with the hope that the tasks would kill you. Or my dear cousin thought that he could humiliate you and used some contacts of his old man. The trophy might be a trap, or someone could be lying in wait for you there. Maybe the plan is to get you alone in some corner of the maze and ambush you there. Maybe someone poisoned the champagne that's handed out to the winner, or they cursed the cowbell the loser has to wear."

"The what now?" His confusion drew his brows further into a deep frown. Dora gave his hand a comforting squeeze and stayed close enough for Harry to lean against her.

"My daughter once again shows her poor judgement when it comes to jokes," Andromeda cut in and glared at Tonks. "However, she is right in that we do not know what the goal of this whole mess is. There certainly are easier ways to get you alone for nefarious reasons, and also easier ways to humiliate or even kill you."

"My enemies are stupid, then? What a relief."

"What if, we have been looking at this the wrong way?" Edward threw in and found all eyes turning on him. "I have been thinking about this for a while. The tournament is one of the most challenging competitions in magical society, correct? One of the very few opportunities outside of Quidditch where young witches and wizards can test their mettle."

"What, you think Ron Weasley entered me because he wanted to do me a solid?" Harry scoffed and shook his head. "And then got mad that I didn't return the favour? Or maybe Colin thought that I needed more opportunities to pose for pictures?"

"No student could confound such a powerful, ancient magical artefact, nor did they have access to it in the bowels of the Ministry of Magic," Edward pointed out and turned to his wife. "Your sister said that Harry was thought to be a dark wizard for his feat of stopping the Dark Lord. One who had to be even more powerful than their master. Furthermore, Harry is a well-known Parselmouth. And we know that the Death Eaters in Azkaban have been far too happy recently. What if, someone entered Harry in the hopes of getting him to show his true colours? Maybe as part of some revival of the Pureblood cause?"

"My little brother is not a dark wizard just biding his time," Dora threw in, and Harry felt a rush of warmth both at the vehemence of the defence and the endearment she had used. Especially as she wrapped an arm around his chest and pulled him closer against her.

"We know that, but there are many Death Eaters who know nothing about you other than what their children tell them and the fact that you were involved in the resolution of the Chamber of Secrets debacle. Your award is on the public record, even if the citation does not tell much," Edward replied in a warm, calm tone. "I had a few opportunities to talk to my sister-in-law before she truly went off the deep end, and those conversations were quite a revelation. Facts don't matter to these people – power does. Defeating Slytherin's monster probably piqued a lot of curiosity in certain circles."

Harry once again shook his head in protest. "Ron was right there with me, he received the same award, and yet he is not getting that kind of attention."

"Your friend comes from a family of known blood traitors, and his mother's brothers died fighting Death Eaters. You, on the other hand, were involved in the Dark Lord's downfall, which would mean that you have to be an even more powerful dark wizard," Ted said and let out a dry laugh. "The fact that your mother was the one to strike him down would be incomprehensible to them. If a mere Mudblood could finish him, what would that say about their cause and their champion?"

"And you have to remember, the Dark Lord has always tried to keep the dark families aligned with him, and right now you are second in line to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black," Andromeda added with dripping sarcasm. "That might not matter to you and me, but it does to a lot of people."

"You mean Voldemort is trying to, what, recruit me?" Harry asked and felt his breakfast trying to make a return.

"Maybe, who knows what goes on in the mind of a madman? Or maybe he organised your entry to get a better understanding of your abilities and talents. To gauge your strengths and weaknesses, and how you approach challenges. You faced him three times, and three times he was left without a body."

"He's spying on me?"

"Most certainly. Many Death Eaters avoided Azkaban, they would jump at the opportunity to serve their master once more. Many others also passed along information, either because they agreed with the cause or because they were coerced into doing so," Andromeda said and gently patted Harry's arm. "That was the worst part about the war. You could trust absolutely no one. Even if they were your best friend, you never knew if their parents or loved ones were not used to get them to betray you."

"I'm sorry, but that's all a bit too much. I know we talked about these possibilities before, but on the morning of the last task, it all feels much more – real. I suppose, if something is meant to happen, now is the last opportunity," Harry said and turned away to look out of the dirty window. He visibly deflated when he felt Tonks squeezing him gently.

"Do you want to blow off some steam?" she offered and tilted her head to the empty space in front of the disused blackboard.

"No, it might help with the nerves, but I fear that I'd be completely exhausted before I relaxed even a little bit," Harry said and rubbed his neck. A duel before the task was a stupid idea, even if it would distract him for the moment. "Just, tell me something."

"What?"

"I don't know. Anything. How's the girlfriend, what are the kittens up to, any interesting sales down at the shops?"

"I sorted out our holiday plans," Ted threw in after a moment when his daughter failed to come up with anything. "Next Sunday, we're booked from Luton to Punta Cana for three weeks of holiday under the Caribbean sun."

"That sounds great."

"Wait till you see the beach," Dora threw in, happy for the new, more cheerful topic. "Dad showed me the brochure, and I was tempted to leave then and there. White sand, gentle waves, palm trees growing right to the edge…"

Harry knew that this was a distraction but Tonks' enthusiasm was infectious, and so he spent the next few hours listening to all the things they could do in the Dominican Republic, and a discussion on whether they should hop over to Yucatán to see some Mayan ruins that were much more than what the Muggles guessed. They talked about slurping drinks out of coconuts, going on diving tours and trekking through a small stretch of tropical rainforest.

The bell rang several times, but it was not until Lisa and Hermione made an appearance that Harry realised how quickly time had flown by. Katie and Leanne joined them in the empty classroom as soon as their Ordinary Wizarding Level examinations were over, and the mood became more lively. A few conjured pieces of furniture turned the dusty place into a cosy reimagining of the Gryffindor common room, and Harry found himself leaning onto Dora while Lisa had her legs across his own and traced patterns on the back of his hand.

Hermione and Leanne were talking to Uncle Ted while Katie and Andromeda had their heads together, clearly plotting something. The glint in their eyes was worrying to say the least. The house elves made the short trip across the hallway and delivered a light lunch of fresh vegetables and a potato salad, and Harry just let everything wash over him, soaking in the atmosphere. A year ago, he had seemingly lost his two best friends, and while Katie and, to a lesser extent at that time, Leanne, had been fun to be around, it was their adventure with Sirius and the Rat that brought them together. Other than that, he had no one other than Hagrid in his corner at that time.

Now, he had a family. People who cared for him, people whom he loved and who loved him. He had one of his former best friends back, and was even on speaking terms with Ron again. He had a girlfriend. Sirius was getting better, and he hoped that he could visit his godfather over the summer. Things were looking up, and it was only the final task that stood between him and two months of summer joy.

At some point, Harry must have dozed off because he was woken by the distinct sound of a magical camera and its enchanted flash. The joyful afternoon had flown by far too quickly and all too soon, he stood alone at the entrance of a maze.

The third task began with a cannon blast. Fired once for each competitor, its loud bangs were quite jarring to stand next to and made it obvious that nobody had told the organisers about a starter pistol. Alternatively, they could just have sent up sparks from their wands. Anything to stop the ringing in his ears.

Harry was ready but as he took his first step in between the hedges, he put a hand in his pocket and over the emergency portkey in it. The weight and shape was oddly assuring, and the fact that someone would break the law for his safety was an added comfort. In comparison, the duellist's armour Andromeda found in some Black property was in surprisingly good shape and perfectly legal, with pads of dragon leather covering the most important spots. Yet it was still light and flexible enough to move unencumbered and enchantments took care of the less vital areas.

As Harry stepped into the maze, the ringing in his ears faded, together with all other noises and distractions. He had not bothered to listen to Bagman's explanation, since he remembered the important bits from the first briefing a month ago. The hedges were enchanted to block magical transportation, the maze was full of creatures who would like to have him for dinner, and if he came across another champion, anything was fair game. Northeast was the direction of the centre of the maze, where the cup was waiting. He made his way down the seemingly endless, twisting paths, and a few paces in, the former Quidditch arena was already out of sight. Whether this was down to a spell or the thick, tall hedges and magical fog, he could not say. The sky was not yet dark enough to navigate by the stars but he could make out Venus if he looked carefully. Not that Harry had a sextant, or knew how to use one. Sure, they covered the theory in one astronomy term, but without the required tables, it would be a waste of time. And an almanack had not even been on the list of things he had wanted to take with him for the task. Although, looking at the massive hedges, maybe he should have insisted on that flamethrower.

Pushing his pyromaniacal thoughts aside for the moment, Harry turned the next corner and was nearly stomped by one of Hagrid's illegal cross-breeds. Thinking quickly, he tried to freeze the fire-belching reptile but the blue spell harmlessly bounced off. A wall of ice proved equally fruitless in stopping the creatures. He toyed with the idea of resorting to some of the spells Andromeda had taught him but he was quite sure that Hagrid would take offence if he liquified one of his treasured creations. So instead, he levitated the Skewt over the hedges and tossed it as far as the spell would carry it.

Then nothing happened. Harry kept walking and turning corners, expecting to find more monsters or traps but to his surprise, there was nothing. Neither detection spells nor his own eyes found anything other than green shrubbery. Left or right, it felt like he was walking in circles, and it was not before about half an hour had passed that he encountered a strange bank of fog blocking his way. Harry backtracked two branches but all alternative paths led to dead ends, which is how he ended up back at the eerie fog. It was certainly charmed but none of his diagnostic spells found any trace of harmful magic. Trying to blow it away proved as fruitless as trying to burn it, leaving Harry no choice but to cautiously move forward and take a slow step forward. And then another one. And another, until the world just turned upside down.

Looking down at the night sky was disconcerting, and for a long while, Harry stood rooted to the spot, disoriented by the sensation of falling and the primal dread that stopped him from taking a step. On a rational level, he knew that this had to be an illusion of some sort, but with the fog covering every direction other than the up and above, he struggled to figure out if the spell had just flipped the world up and down or whether any other directions also were mirrored. Hanging from the ground above the seemingly endless void of the night sky did not help his contemplations at all.

Gingerly, Harry took a foot off the ground and was surprised by how little effort it required, promptly throwing him off balance, and onto all fours. As it turned out, this was a fortuitous turn of events, since the effect was not as noticeable while crawling, which allowed him to quickly get through the fog and back somewhere where gravity was the right way up. However, crawling across the boundary with his head perceiving a different up than his stomach made Harry throw up the moment he was out of the enchantment.

A conjured cup of water later, and he was back on his feet, a little worse for wear. The last twilight at the horizon was now completely gone, making it impossible to tell which way he needed to go. Turning the next corner, the ground began to slope gently downwards, and Harry took that as a good sign. He was getting further away from the Quidditch pitch, which hopefully meant closer to the Cup. Or maybe just closer to the Forbidden Forest. The initial nervousness came back with a vengeance, and even though a few minutes passed with nothing but hedges coming into view, his nerves remained taut

After another intersection, Harry made it around the corner and saw white mist blocking his way again. He was about to turn back and look for a way around the enchantment that flipped everything on its head, when a dark shape emerged. The Patronus charm sprang out of his wand in a heartbeat, still refusing to take a definite shape. The tall, cursed wraith extended one of its rotten, lifeless hands towards him and let out a rattling, laboured breath. He thought about Dora calling him her little brother earlier and the blob of bright mist lunged forward. It washed over the fiend, staggering it. The creature stared back at him and even though the black cloak gave nothing away, he could feel the lifeless eyes burning into him. Feeling his heart beating like a drum, Harry took one step back, the white shield brightly illuminating the path in between them. Then another. And one more, until his back touched a hedge. Only then did he notice that the monster seemed to struggle to get up again, which was odd since dementors floated – Then the penny dropped.

"Riddikulus!"

The deathly black cloak was replaced by a pink tutu as the bogart was forced to dance ballet, and the creature fled through the hedge. Harry was left alone in the corridor, and unlike the previous encounter, the remaining mist was easily blown away by a charm.

Besides the moon, the glow at Harry's wand tip was the only source of light in the maze. The spell cast long shadows, which made each shrub look like death waited around the corner. He carefully checked the turns and junction, keeping a steady watch out for creatures. There were other dangers lurking, he could hear steps and the laboured breathing of some monster he did not care to meet at all. At one point, a distant explosion echoed through the labyrinth, followed by a pained, inhuman howl. With his attention elsewhere, Harry did not notice that one shrub was not like other plants.

The vine wrapped itself around his ankle faster than he could blink, because the next thing Harry knew, he was upside down once again as more tentacle-like branches burst out of nowhere. Within a second, he was pulled flush against the hedge, the sharp, cut branches digging into his back wherever they could find their way around the dragon leather. More vines emerged and wrapped themselves around his torso. He could barely breathe, and the plants kept a tight wrap on his wand arm, keeping it pointed skywards. As if it was taunting him to forfeit the task.

Being stuck the wrong way up, Harry had no way of telling what plant was keeping him tied to the maze, but the only kind that came to mind was the Devil's Snare. And while he was no witch, he was a wizard. With a chuckle, Harry pushed the memory aside and focused on carefully twisting his wand between his fingers so that it pointed past him and at the hedge. And while he could not do the wand movements, it was more than enough to break free.

"Incendio!"

Flames leapt from his wand and quickly spread over the plant as if it had been covered in oil. The vines tightened, and for a second, the pressure on his chest became unbearable, but the armour held and just as fast as it had squeezed him, the Devil's Snare dropped him.

It took Harry a second to steady himself, to blink away the tears, take a deep breath and get back onto his feet. The burning plant crackled merrily, but he could hear the thump of heavy steps. Whatever made that noise was probably drawn to the blaze, and he had no intentions of finding out what other monsters lurked in the maze. Moody's warning rang in his ears as he pushed on, now more mindful of the hedges, lest he run into something even worse than the plants Professor Sprout showed to first year students.

Ten minutes later, the slope had reversed and Harry was walking up a hill. He could hear the steps again but turning around, there was nothing but the empty path between the hedges. The wind gently rustled the bushes as if to taunt him. Taking a deep breath, he turned back forward and after a quick scan of the way ahead resumed walking.

"Harry!" he heard a woman shout and spun around in surprise, his wand raised in alarm. Standing at a previously deserted junction behind him was Fleur Delacour, with her wand out and pointed meaningfully at him. "I challenge you to a duel."

After the few ordeals he'd encountered and the disorienting episodes he'd suffered, Fleur's sudden appearance and challenge were perhaps the most confusing experience thus far. He tried to recall a moment in which he'd done her a disservice but came up empty. So he tried the only thing he could think of. "We fought the Merefolk together –"

Fleur's jaw grew tense and she nodded knowingly. "And I am grateful for that. It is the reason I gave you the formal challenge rather than cursing you from behind."

"If you put it like that, fair enough," Harry admitted and took the stance he had practised for many hours the previous summer. He knew plenty of people who would not have hesitated to curse him in the back. They were the reason why he had worn his father's cloak a lot after his name came out of that accursed goblet.

Now, he might have a girlfriend, but he couldn't deny that the French witch was bloody hot. Well, she was a bit of an uptight bitch, but the way she twirled a lock of her golden hair and strutted towards him into the clearing made his blood boil. He wanted to wipe that superior, smug smile from her face. To throw her to the ground, yank down those ridiculous flowing blue trousers that were similar to the Beauxbaton uniform, to grab her blonde ponytail, yank it back to expose her long neck – and – and –

With tremendous effort, Harry shook himself and the spell was broken, leaving him with a feeling akin to a bucket of cold water being dumped on him. Fleur raised her eyebrows in a clear look of surprise.

"Your Veela magic, I don't think it works right," he hissed through gritted teeth and opened up with a bone breaker. This was probably not a fight to the death, so he would not resort to some of the worst curses Andromeda had taught him but after that experience, he wasn't in the mood for kindness. "You should ask for a refund, if it's not too late."

"Oh, did you want to have your wicked way with me?" Fleur laughed as the spell bounced off her shield. "I love that phrase. Tell me, did you want to punish me? Or bite me and leave a mark? Perhaps you wanted more, hm? Rip my lingerie and spear me with your wand?"

"Not quite what your magic is known for, is it?"

An amused scoff escaped her. "Love and 'ate are, how do you say, two sides of the same coin," Fleur said with a wide grin. An almost manic one. "Just so that you know, if I am sleeping with someone, I am the one on top."

"Noted," Harry deadpanned, desperately trying to find anything else to think about. He knew exactly what she was up to but being a teenage boy, that did nothing to dispel the images she conjured in his mind. "That won't help you come out on top here, though."

"This will be fun," Fleur giggled, her grin wider than ever. Then her wand sang. Blue and purple curses flew back and forth, with the occasional beam of red or burst of yellow in between. If anyone had been near enough to witness the duel, they'd have got quite a show.

A torrent of flames erupted from Fleur's wand, and Harry, who was still distracted by the vision of a naked Veela on top of him, was a split second too late with his water conjuration. The two elemental streams collided and a thick fog momentarily blocked the line of sight. However, due to the poor timing, Harry was hit by some of the steam born from this clash of fire and water, and he almost dropped his wand as the back of his hand was scalded.

For a moment, only the hissing of the rising steam was heard, but not long after, the gust of wind cleared the mist and the duel resumed. Similar spells flew back and forth once anew, until Fleur summoned snakes to create a new kind of chaos, probably meant to slow him down.

"Beginner mistake," Harry chuckled as he blocked a piercing curse while a dozen snakes slithered towards him. A quick glance down at the numerous reptiles, his command was short but clear. "Bite her!"

Fleur's eyes went wide as her creations stopped, turned towards her and lunged forward. A flurry of cutting curses dispatched them with haste, but not before one found its mark and buried its teeth in her calve. Harry used the time to take careful aim and sent a blasting curse at the ground in front of her. The spell threw her backwards and onto her back under a cloud of dirt and sand. The disarming charm that followed immediately afterwards just added insult to injury.

She remained there motionless for a moment and gathered her strength. "Now we're even," Fleur huffed as she pushed herself up and Harry did not know what kind of insanity came over him when he tossed her wand back.

"Even?"

"I could have struck you down when you were caught in the allure and you could have done the same just now," she explained as she waved her wand over her leg. As she stood up, it became clear that her spell was a quick fix-up rather than proper healing. Yet together with the bandage that tightly wrapped itself around the wound, it allowed her to stand without too much wobbling. She did not even bother to mend the cuts on her cheek and chin, red blood dripping down her jawline. "You are good, even better than I expected."

The words were spoken with curiosity rather than malice or lust. They were a simple observation, a statement of the obvious. And yet, despite the dirt on her face and the collection of injuries, she had an almost manic glint in her eyes.

"Why are you so hell-bent on this duel?"

"I am last place in this competition, or second to last. The second task was not to my strengths, and despite being the youngest contestant, you are in the lead. Luckily, the Tournament allows for a more direct competition between champions."

"This duel, you want to prove your superiority by beating a younger contestant?"

"Not just any leetle boy. If even half of the tales about you are true, you are a foe worthy of a dark wizard."

And then the spells flew.

"We could work together, like during the last task."

"We did that because the idiots put my sister in the lake and the beasts there tried their best to kill her."

"Well, whoever put me into this competition is trying to kill me."

"And yet, here you are. Alive. Unlike the Hogwarts champion," Fleur said and sounded almost happy about the fact as she blocked a curse and retaliated with a purple spell of her own. "All I need to win now is you and Krum giving up. And Krum should be easier to wrap around my finger."

He didn't share her enthusiasm at all. "We don't have to do this."

"No, we don't. You can avoid this fight quite easily, all you need to do is send up red sparks."

"Funny, I was about to tell you the same thing," Harry said and they locked eyes, waiting, daring her to make the first move.

It came down to a very simple fact. Fleur knew a lot more spells, and during the first round, he noticed that he had no hope of matching her like for like. She had almost three years over him, three curricula in Defence against the Dark Arts or whatever equivalent they taught at Beauxbaton.

However, thanks to his family, he had a few aces up his sleeve. Andromeda was no believer in a wide arsenal, but instead focused on perfecting a select few spells. She certainly was not shy about the dark arts and winning by any means necessary. And while she had not taught him the killing curse, there were some spells she made him promise to only use when his life was on the line. And given what else was lurking inside this maze, for all he knew, a werewolf and an acromantula were waiting around the next corner as for who would have them for dinner.

Yet despite the danger, Harry could not bring himself to resort to such magic. Fleur was in for a fight, to get him to forfeit, not a duel to the death. On top of that, there was one spell that had been mercilessly drilled into him, one spell Harry had truly mastered. One that could be lethal, but mostly was useful because it was difficult to counteract. Which was why Fleur found herself subjected to a barrage of blasting curses. And while a shield charm stopped any spell close enough to directly harm the caster, it did little to stop her from being showered by dirt and pieces of the hedges, torn off by curses that were not aimed at her. In between, he cast a few piercing hexes that also were quite dark, but unlikely to go through her shield. Fleur managed to get a few spells of her own in, but due to the onslaught she was under, none came even close to hitting Harry.

Sweat ran down her forehead, her hair was damp and a few strands stuck to her dirt-caked skin while the rest flew in the shock waves created by his curses. Her blue robe was torn in many places, yet had this been a formal duelling competition, Fleur would have won. Harry's limited selection of spells would have resulted in a big loss of points while her wide array of magic would have carried the day. But in the battered remains of the maze, between scorched hedges, burnt grass and smouldering stumps, a very different set of rules determined the outcome.

Swinging his wand down like a hammer, Harry unleashed spell after spell. Like bolts of lightning followed by deafening thunders, he battered Fleur's defence, the curses crashing over her shield like tidal waves. A primal power, a force of nature. The bright blue barrier was cracking, its colour faded to a dull grey as flashes of light marked the curses hitting her charm. The air smelled of ozone and dirt, the battleground turned into a field of craters. In menacing silence, Harry rained down spell after spell onto the Beauxbaton Champion, the crack of explosions drowning out her grunts of exhaustion and pain, driving her back until she stumbled over a hole in the ground.

Before he could ask her to yield, Fleur rushed back to her feet and electricity crackled at the tip of her wand. However, the curse only hit Harry's shield, and for a few moments, they were locked into the spell, before she had to stop her effort or faint, at which point Harry could send off the lightning into the night sky, undoubtedly giving the spectators something to gawk at. His wand hummed and shook at the effort needed for the deflection. For one heartbeat, they eyed each other before Harry resumed his barrage. He hammered Fleur's shield once more, and the spells she blocked blew more craters into the ground around her. Blasting curse after blasting curse crashed into her defence, crushing iz under the weight of the spells.

The duel had taken its toll on both of them. Fleur's injury from her snakes left her shaky on her feet, while Harry felt the strain from pressing the attack. His spells came slower, and he knew that if their fight continued much longer, Fleur would outlast him. So he doubled down. Gasping for air, he resumed the bombardment, quickly seeing success as Fleur's shield flickered out of existence, forcing her to recast the spell. However, instead of the massive, brilliant dome, the new one looked as solid as cardboard left out in the rain, and was just as luminescent. It faded after a couple of curses, and the replacement was even more pitiful.

However, the battle was not over. Pressed this hard, Fleur decided to use her last resort. "Tu me ne peux pas passer. La Coupe est à moi," she hissed, and the next thing Harry knew was a horrible pain as a burning liquid splashed against his left arm. Screaming, he dropped to his knees and then fell to his side, hoping to quench the fire quickly. Through tears in his eyes, he looked for Fleur, but her fireball must have come at a cost because his last spell struck home as well, throwing her back twenty feet. At the start of their duel, that hit would have caused serious injury, but after the prolonged fight, it just had the power to bruise.

Weary of another burning surprise, Harry firmly grasped his wand and, never taking his eyes off his opponent, drenched the burns in conjured water. He tried to get up, but ended up stumbling forward instead. Down on all fours, he grabbed the hedge to his right and pulled himself up onto his knees, leaning against the plant. Fleur seemed to be in a worse state, unable to even raise her arm. However, before either of them could cast another spell, the remaining hedges shrunk into the ground and Professor Moody hobbled towards them, his peg leg muffled by the loose ground.

"That was a decent duel," he shouted and yanked Fleur up and onto her unsteady feet, struggling to compose herself as the professor patched her up with a couple of healing spells. "But while you were having this stand-off, Krum got the Cup. Seems like he didn't much like portkey travel, he's out cold after botching the landing. And judging by the state you two are in, this would amount to a draw. So, you get to share second place, congrats."

Harry heard the sarcasm drip off Moody's lips but didn't have the energy to spend any further thought on it. Instead, he barely had managed to get back onto one knee after the hedge had shrunken away, when Moody got to him and pulled him up not too gently. The retired Auror conjured a weird, white paste onto his burns. It smelled of sour cream and clover but it quickly removed the pain. The improvised treatment left both teenagers panting and on unsteady feet. Fleur then surprised him by grabbing his hand with her right while patting his uninjured shoulder with her left, leaving them almost in a soft hug for a moment as they leaned against each other in an effort to stay upright. "Well fought. It was an 'onour to cross wands with you."

"You too," Harry replied, himself out of breath and almost toppled over by the handshake. Their duel had been exhilarating, and unlike the practice with his family, he actually came out on top in the end. Barely. "Well fought."

"Save that for when you are alone in the hospital wing," Moody laughed and helped them both limp towards the arena.

"I have a girlfriend," Harry pointed out after a heartbeat, but the Professor only laughed harder and slapped his back, almost throwing him back onto the ground.

"Then get her there, too. Nothing like a good fight to get your blood all warmed up. You wouldn't believe what I saw in the Auror Department during the war."

"Do I even want to know?"

"If only you were a bit closer to my age," Fleur added with a teasing wink, and despite all his exhaustion, Harry felt blood rushing to his cheeks while listening to the Veela's cackle.

AN:

Merry Christmas everyone!

Beta'ed by doenerkint/Babidibupi.

Long time no see. Which I wanted to sincerely apologise for. I have never properly planned what would happen between the second and the third task and hoped to roll with what's in the book while expanding on that. But canon is surprisingly thin there, and most of the material doesn't fit in due to the divergences in this story. So saying that I ran into writer's block puts it mildly. However, just as promised many, many months ago, no graveyard scene. That was one of the core premises of this story.

I toyed with the idea of changing Harry's dementor into Dora saying that the Dursleys had been right and he deserved the cupboard, but given that dementors are seemingly the worst creatures in the world of Harry Potter, that didn't felt right. I never bought into Lupin's "You fear the fear" thing because honestly, soul sucking, unkillable demons trump pretty much everything else. And remember, there was no time travel in this fic, so Harry did not know he could do a Patronus and therefore never "tricked" himself into learning the spell to the same standard as in canon.