Chapter 38:

The Third Task

Thanks to Professor Snape's healing expertise and Adrian's tutoring, Jessa found she wasn't falling as far behind in her studies as she feared she would. Within a month and a half of first being placed into a brace, she was out of it, her wand strength and abilities almost back to where they were prior. With only a little more coaching from Adrian and her professors, she would hopefully be caught up.

The night of the third task, Jessa could only pick at the food on her plate, scared for what the third task would be asking of the champions.

"He'll be fine," Blaise said, sitting down at the dinner table across from her.

"I just have a bad feeling about this time. Don't know why."

"Everything will be fine."

"Jessa, your brother always comes out of these things relatively unharmed. Why should this one be any different?" Draco asked, sitting beside his girlfriend, trying his best to keep annoyance from his tone, knowing she did have every reason to be worried.

As the enchanted ceiling overhead began to fade from blue to a dusky purple, Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet at the staff table, and silence fell.

"Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now."

"Jessa, he'll be fine," Blaise repeated, trying to assure her once more. She just nodded as slowly the rest of the student and parent population made their way to a configured Quidditch pitch and took their seats in the stands. The Quidditch pitch had been transformed into a gigantic maze of hedges. Their poor pitch.

Mr. Bagman stood in the centre of the pitch and began to speak with a magically personified voice. "Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, with eighty-five points each - Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School!" The cheers and applause sent birds from the Forbidden Forest fluttering into the darkening sky. "In second place, with eighty points - Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!" More applause. "And in third place - Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!"

She saw Harry look up briefly before Mr. Bagman blew the whistle and he disappeared into the tall, dark maze, the bushes growing to cover the entrance.

"Jessa," Draco said sharply, causing her to look at him. "Please. I know you're worried. But he'll be okay. He always is."

She hated that, just like the second task, they couldn't see what was happening. Not that she had chosen to watch the first task, but she would have still preferred the option.

The onlookers, without anything to actually see, began chatting amongst themselves, though every now and then a hush would fall over them when sparks or sounds would come from the maze. None of which did anything to alleviate her apprehension.

Suddenly, she bent over, cradling her left palm to her chest. Terrible burning was running through her scar. She couldn't explain it, but she knew it meant she'd been right, and something had gone horribly wrong.

"Jessa! What is it?"

"I – I don't – I don't know," she managed to say, her vision blurring as the pain intensified. Distantly, she could feel his arms on her shoulders, supporting her, keeping her from completely collapsing as her vision quickly went black.

Groggily, the young witch awoke to see white dancing before her eyes. Reaching for her glasses, she saw a large black dog standing protectively at the foot of the bed across from her. His lips were curled back. Was this Sirius Black, in his animal form? But if so, why would he be snarling at her?

She tried to push herself up, and immediately, hands came to help her. Turning, she saw Draco and realized the dog wasn't growling at her, but at him.

"How are you feeling?"

"Sore. Dazed."

"What happened? One minute you were fine, if nervous, the next you were doubled over, screaming in pain."

"I was screaming?"

He nodded solemnly.

"Do you know what happened?" she asked.

"You were right," he began, and she interrupted him.

"And how much does that pain you to admit?" she joked. He rolled his eyes, grinning slightly, before growing serious again.

"Diggory is dead. Don't know what happened, except that Professor Moody wasn't the real Moody. He was a Death Eater in disguise. Rumour has it he received the Dementor's Kiss."

"What is that? I mean, it doesn't sound pleasant, but – "

" – it's not. A Dementor's Kiss is where a dementor comes and sucks the livelihood out of a person's body. They're technically alive, but they become like a member of the living dead."

Jessa shuddered, but she appreciated that he told her the truth when she asked about things. "And Harry?"

"Is in the bed that mutt is guarding."

"Do you know if he's – "

" – from what I've gathered, he's injured, but fine."

She nodded as Madame Pomfrey came bustling over.

"Mister Malfoy, why did you not alert me she was awake? Miss Potter, you need to drink this and we need to change your bandages," she said, placing two bottles at the end of her table. "Miss Potter, your hand please."

It was only then that Jessa realized her left hand – her scarred hand – was bandaged. She laid it out on top of the covers and winced as the old gauze pulled at the scar. Then she frowned…it wasn't new, so why was it hurting so much.

"It was bleeding, dear," Madame Pomfrey said quietly as she redressed the wound with salve from one of the bottles.

Jessa's eyes widened. How on earth could a scar over a decade old have suddenly started bleeding? She glanced over at her brother's bed; she'd definitely have to talk to him. Something horrid had happened and it was badly affecting them both.

"Now, drink this and rest up," Madame Pomfrey instructed, uncorking the second bottle and handing it over. Jessa took it as the older woman bustled away, but didn't drink it just yet.

"I don't – Draco, I know you probably don't want to, but can you – "

" – I'm not leaving right now. Promise," he replied softly, pulling the chair close to the edge of her bed.

"Thank you," she whispered, before downing the drought in her hand. Draco took the empty bottle from her and placed that and her glasses on the bedside table as the potion took over and she fell asleep against the soft pillows, Draco's hand clasped firmly in hers.