Chapter Thirty-Six – The End of the Tournament
Foreign Beauty, Sporting Wonder or Arrogant Duo – Who Will Win the Triwizard Tournament?
By Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent for the Daily Prophet
As the Triwizard Tournament reaches its climax tonight, the wizarding world is wondering: who will be the lucky winner? Will it be Beauxbatons beauty Fleur Delacour, Quidditch titan Viktor Krum, or the two Hogwarts champions who seem to be driven by an unshakable confidence (some would say arrogance)?
The Tournament tasks so far have been a spectacle, with our foreign guests showing impressive magic and ingenuity. Despite this, the Hogwarts duo of Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass (both 14, but both capable of making bold statements as if they were much older) have managed to take first place going into the final task. This is mainly due to the high score they achieved in the second task in February, as they were still behind Viktor Krum after the first task.
However, some observers have also wondered how much of this improved performance is due to their own abilities and how much is due to increased support from their teachers, which reportedly includes Albus Dumbledore himself. In a tournament that is all about proving your own strength and initiative, it is certainly nice to have such experienced wizards and witches at your side. It might just be a little questionable whether this is in the spirit of the competition.
But perhaps, in the end, that doesn't matter, and all that matters is winning, whether honourably or not. And that will to succeed may well be the decisive factor in the end. In any case, the whole country is rooting for our two young sorcerer's apprentices Potter and Greengrass today, hoping that they will keep their nerve in the third task to carry out the plans of their experienced mentors and not fall back into old embarrassments at the crucial moment (readers will surely remember the embarrassing episodes a year ago when the two fell victim to Confusion Charms cast by the criminal Sirius Black, thus endangering the safety of the whole of Hogwarts).
Yes, on this final and decisive day of the tournament, the tension is almost unbearable. Will Potter and Greengrass triumph, by whatever means? Or will fate hand victory to Delacour or Krum? Rest assured, readers, your favourite reporter will be there to keep you up to date with all the action!
Unlike the previous two tasks, the third took place in the evening, and so the sun was slowly sinking behind the mountains and trees of the Forbidden Forest, bathing the grounds of Hogwarts in a fading orange light, as Harry, Daphne, Ron and Hermione walked along the path to the Quidditch pitch. The mood was very low. Especially Harry's. He was still holding the crumpled evening edition of the Daily Prophet.
Rita Skeeter was just a stupid bitch! She had no idea of the true power of their magic and what they had already achieved! Things that this narrow-minded hack couldn't even imagine in her worst nightmares!
Hermione gave him a worried look, as she had done since dinner. "Harry, just let her talk. We know exactly what you two have done, and without any help. Nobody cares what this woman writes."
"Exactly!" agreed Ron. "You'll handle this task with ease, just like the second one, I'm sure. In fact, I'm counting on you, because I've made a bet with some Ravenclaws that you'll complete the task in less than an hour. So don't let me down!" He let out a laugh that sounded almost sincere.
But Harry didn't feel like laughing. Neither did Daphne. His girlfriend walked beside him, her face serious and sombre. Which was a shame, Harry thought. Because Daphne had dressed up for the occasion.
She was wearing her best robe of midnight black silk with gold trim on the sleeves and collar, which matched her eyes perfectly. Her silky, jet-black hair fell softly over her shoulders and was sprinkled with the finest bits of gold dust, which glittered in the light of the setting sun like shooting stars on a moonless night.
Harry felt his heart beat faster as he looked at her, overwhelmed once again by his good fortune to have found such a beautiful partner. It was a pleasant bonus to their relationship, for he was sure that even if she looked like Eloise Midgen or Millicent Bulstrode, he would love Daphne madly, simply for the kind of person she was. What kind of person she was to him.
Daphne caught his eye and smiled gently at him. Then she said, "Don't worry, Ronald. We're going to win, no question about it."
"In an hour?"
"They can't promise that, Ron!" Hermione said, giving her boyfriend a reproving look. "They don't even know what they're up against."
"We'll do our best," Harry replied. "Then we'll see how fast we can..."
They walked onto the Quidditch pitch, which was now completely unrecognisable. A seven metre high hedge ran around the entire perimeter. Directly in front of them was a gap: the entrance to the extensive maze. The passage beyond looked dark and eerie. Huge silver mirrors floated above the maze and the grandstands, but their surfaces were dull, with only the green of the endless hedges faintly reflected in them.
"Wow," Ron murmured as he took in the sight. "This is... different."
"It's impressive," Hermione said. "But also a bit scary. Good luck to you both. And take care of yourselves, will you?" With that, Hermione hugged Harry first, before nodding awkwardly at Daphne. Neither girl seemed to feel the need for a hug.
Then Hermione and Ron sat down at the front of the next stand. A few minutes later, the other stands began to fill, the air filled with excited voices and the rumble of feet as hundreds of students took their seats. The sky was now a deep, clear blue and the first stars were beginning to appear.
Just as Harry was wondering how long it would be before the task began, Ludo Bagman approached them with a broad grin. "Harry, Daphne!" he greeted them, "wonderful to see you. Listen, I need to talk to you about something before we start. There's been another, er, little rule change."
Harry frowned. "What kind of change?"
"Nothing bad, nothing bad, don't worry. It's just that since you're both competing as one champion, you'll have to complete the task as one champion."
Daphne clicked her tongue. "Now get on with it, Bagman. What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, you'll be bound together for the task," Bagman said. "And you'll both only be allowed to carry one wand. We think that will make the task fairer for everyone, which I'm sure will be in your best interests."
A few steps away, Harry saw Madame Maxime and Karkaroff, both smiling contentedly as they looked at them. Delacour and Krum also looked much happier than they had on the day the third task was announced.
Bagman clapped his hands. "So which of you wants to stand on the left and which on the right when you're tied together? And who wants to give –"
WHOOSH!
Before Bagman had even finished speaking, Daphne waved her wand and with the movement, a mighty wall of rushing air shot up, separating Harry and Daphne from the others. The air roared as if they were standing next to a thundering waterfall, and Harry felt the power of the magic tingling on his skin. No other sound could reach them and, more importantly, no sound from them could get out.
"Bastards," Daphne hissed. "They can't stand to see us win, and now they're trying to put every obstacle in our way!"
"I'm not surprised," Harry said, looking at the shadowy figures visible through the curtain of rushing air. "Perhaps I had hope once, but... We will only find the justice in this world that we create for ourselves, Daph. We will win, no matter what rules they make up. We will win because we are the best."
Daphne snorted, but raised her chin proudly. "No question about that, but a lady is still allowed to be upset." She clicked her tongue. "Very well, then, let's get on with this bloody farce. I'll be on the left, you on the right."
"Why me on the right?"
"You're quicker to react than I am, so you should be wielding the wand. Besides, I have a few tricks up my sleeve. My left hand is far from useless."
Harry looked into her eyes and saw nothing but boundless determination. And so he nodded. "Let's do it then. And, Daphne?"
"Hm?"
"I love you. More than you can imagine."
Daphne smiled slightly, her lips forming a thin but firm line. "Believe me, I can imagine a lot, especially when it comes to our future together."
With an energetic movement, Daphne whipped her wand through the air again and the wall of rushing air disappeared. In its place, they saw the confused face of Ludo Bagman, still standing in the same place, his blond hair only slightly dishevelled. He seemed speechless for a moment before returning to his usual humour.
"Well, that was a refreshing breeze, wasn't it?" he said with an exaggerated laugh. "I –"
Before he could continue, Daphne cut him off with a sharp voice. "Harry will keep his wand and stand to the right. Now do your bloody duty."
Bagman blinked, then nodded slowly. "In that case, Miss Greengrass, please place your wand over there." He pointed to a nearby table, behind which the other judges had taken their seats. Maxime and Karkaroff looked at them a little suspiciously, while Dumbledore nodded at them, in a good mood, it seemed. Fudge, meanwhile, was busy waving to the crowd and smiling at the cameras of the reporters present.
Through their bond, Harry could sense Daphne's reluctance, but there was no sign of it in her gait as she walked over to the table and placed her black wand on it.
"It better not have slipped an inch when I pick it up," she said, "or some of the judges will lose their fingers."
Bagman laughed nervously at her words, but Daphne's eyes were hard as she scanned the judges. Dumbledore was the only one to meet her gaze impartially.
"No one will touch it, I assure you," their headmaster and unsuspecting enemy said.
After Daphne had returned to Harry, Ludo Bagman had a Ministry wizard hand him two iron shackles with heavy hinges. Harry wondered if he had brought them specially from Azkaban or from some torture chamber deep beneath Hogwarts. The shackles certainly looked like they came from the Dark Ages.
"May I?" asked Bagman, kneeling in front of Harry and Daphne without waiting for an answer. He placed a shackle around Harry's left leg and Daphne's right leg and fastened it. The iron hinges clicked together with an unpleasant sound that made Harry jump.
"And here," Bagman continued as he stood up, "another one for the upper arms." He fastened the second shackle, pinning their upper arms together, leaving them with little room to move.
Harry immediately felt the weight pulling on his arms and legs, making any movement difficult.
"This weighs a ton!" Daphne complained, trying to balance the weight of the shackles. Her face was contorted with effort and dissatisfaction.
Karkaroff smiled smugly at her from the judges' table. "A fair competition must have some weight to it," he said in his thick Eastern European accent.
Harry suppressed the urge to say something venomous in return, even though it was difficult. But it wouldn't do any good anyway. They just had to shine with their performance to silence all the enviers and critics forever.
By now the stands were packed. Bagman put the tip of his wand to his throat and muttered "Sonorus", his magically amplified voice echoing through the stands.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin," he called out. "Let me remind you of the current standings! In first place with eighty-seven points are the marvellous Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass of Hogwarts School, our little rebels!"
Bagman's words drew cheers and applause from the audience. To Harry's ears, they sounded like mockery.
"They still don't respect us, despite everything," Daphne muttered to him.
Harry squeezed her hand, which felt very warm in his.
Bagman continued, "In second place, with seventy-nine points, is Mr Viktor Krum from Durmstrang Institute!" Applause broke out and Harry heard a few shouts of "Krum, Krum, Krum". "And in third place, Miss Fleur Delacour for Beauxbatons Academy with seventy-seven points!" The crowd applauded again, and Delacour bowed her head in recognition.
"And now," Bagman said, "on my whistle. Three ... two ... one!" Then Bagman blew his whistle short and hard.
Harry and Daphne began to move. The heavy metal of their shackles tore at their limbs and made every step a pain, but they didn't stop. They entered the maze.
The tall hedges cast black shadows on the path, and whether it was because they were so tall and dense, or because they were enchanted, the noise of the crowd fell silent as soon as they entered the maze. The darkness around them seemed palpable, almost alive.
Harry raised his wand and thought 'Lumos'. A beam of light illuminated the path before them. After a good forty metres, they came to a fork. They exchanged glances, both with the same question in their eyes: which way should they go? Neither path led to the centre of the maze.
"One's as good as the other," Daphne said with a shrug. They took the right-hand path.
Behind them, Harry heard Bagman's whistle for the second time. So now Krum had entered the maze as well. They sped as fast as they could. The shackles made it difficult, but they kept up the pace.
They reached another fork and took the right path again. Another fork followed shortly after, but this time they chose the left path, hoping to get back to the centre of the maze.
The paths were deserted, no threatening creatures or traps in sight. Harry held his wand high above his head, trying to see as far ahead as possible. Still, there was nothing in sight.
In the distance, Bagman's whistle sounded for the third time. Now all the champions were in the maze.
Harry continued to look behind him. An uneasy feeling spread through him, as if they were being watched. The sky above them was turning a deep grey and the maze was growing darker by the minute. The silence was oppressive and Harry's heart began to beat faster. Beside him, he could hear Daphne's breathing getting faster and more rasping. It sounded like the rattling of a dead person – it wasn't Daphne!
Harry jerked his wand around, just in time. A huge creature stepped out of the hedge to their left. It looked almost human, except for its utter inhumanity. Grey, leathery skin stretched over huge muscles, covered only by a few ragged patches of fur. The creature's arms were long and hung so low that its ankles scraped the ground. A hideous bone mask that had grown over its face hid its features, but a long red tongue protruded from its mouth, and in its hand it carried a crude metal cleaver the size of Harry's body.
With a deep, guttural roar, the creature raised the cleaver and slashed at them. Harry instinctively leapt to his right. Unfortunately, Daphne reacted just as instinctively and jumped to the left. The shackles on their arms and legs tore at their flesh. Harry lost his balance as his movement pulled him to one side and Daphne's movement pulled him to the other.
But Harry's strength finally overcame Daphne's momentum. He fell to the right, just like Daphne. The cleaver crashed to the ground, just millimetres from Daphne's head. The impact shook the ground and robbed Harry of all support.
In a desperate attempt to stop the creature, Harry aimed his wand at the monster. Black flames shot from the tip and enveloped the creature. The sickening stench of burning flesh filled the air, but the creature showed no sign of pain. Cracks in its skin glowed, as if coal were burning inside.
Daphne raised her hand and a bolt of purple lightning shot from her palm and struck the creature in the head. Black blood shot from its nose and there was a bursting sound where one of its eyeballs must have been behind the mask, but even that didn't seem to stop the creature. It raised its cleaver again as Harry and Daphne rose from the ground as fast as they could.
"We need something stronger," Daphne shouted.
She didn't have to tell Harry twice. He pointed his wand at the creature again, this time putting all his will to destroy into the spell. Inside him, his Impetus roared triumphantly. A fiery heat coursed through his body, as if his very blood was on fire.
Harry screamed and thick branches burst from the hedge. They pierced the creature's body like dozens of spears. Black blood spurted from the wounds. The creature tried to move, but the branches wrapped around its body and held it still. The creature roared, so loud that the ground and hedges shook. Harry feared he would go deaf.
With a powerful wave of his wand, he severed the hand that held the cleaver. Another wave and the creature's head rolled to the ground.
Suddenly there was silence. The creature hung lifeless before them, its body pierced and decapitated, a pool of black blood at its feet. Harry and Daphne straightened up, their shackles clanking softly in the falling night.
"Are you all right?" Harry asked worriedly, looking at Daphne. His heartbeat was slow to calm down.
Daphne nodded, her eyes still fixed on the creature's lifeless body. "Yes, but that was way too close." She took a deep breath and looked at Harry. "Good spell though."
"Let's get on with it then," Harry said. "That was just the beginning. And keep your eyes open..."
Together they set off again. They had only covered a few metres when they heard a low rumble behind them. Harry looked back to see the decapitated body of the creature twitching. The severed head and the hand with the cleaver were slowly rolling back towards the body.
Undead, Harry thought. Better get out of here before they were delayed any longer. And so the two of them quickened their pace as much as their shackles would allow.
Eventually, the rumbling behind them died down. They walked along the path in silence for several minutes until they came to another fork. They took the path to the left, where they saw a bright light shining.
As they got closer they could see the source of the light. It was a long pool that stretched across the width of the path, to the end of their vision and, it seemed, beyond it, hidden in the darkness. The pool was filled with a strange, shimmering, whitish liquid that looked like a mixture of milk and trapped moonlight. The surface was smooth and still, nothing moved. But there was a strange energy in the air, a kind of magic that made Harry's skin tingle.
Floating above the shimmering liquid were black stones of varying sizes, but never more than a few feet wide and long. They were uneven and moved in all directions, up and down, left and right, back and forth. Every now and then a stone would even disappear, only to reappear in another place shortly afterwards.
"Looks like we're going to have to walk over these stones to get anywhere," Harry said.
Daphne nodded, her eyes following the movement of the stones. "But we have to be careful. One false step and we'll end up in that liquid."
Harry looked at the pool again. The shimmering liquid seemed innocent, almost harmless, but he couldn't ignore the tingling magic of this place, even if he couldn't say exactly what kind of magic it was and how it worked. "I'll go first," he said firmly. "I'll check the stones before you follow."
"We're bound together, Harry," Daphne reminded him, her voice firm. "And the stones are too small and move too erratically to be so patient. We have to do it together."
Harry knew she was right. He nodded and took a deep breath. "All right. Are you ready?" he asked and Daphne nodded in return.
Together they stepped to the edge of the pool and waited for the right moment to take the first step. Harry's eyes followed the movement of the stones, hoping to see a pattern, but their movements seemed unpredictable. Well, they couldn't wait forever.
"Okay, on three," Harry said, taking a deep breath. "One, two, three!"
At the same time, Harry and Daphne stepped onto the first floating stone. It swayed slightly under their weight, but they kept their balance and jumped onto the next.
However, the shackles on their arms and legs made every movement difficult. Each step had to be perfect and they could hardly afford any mistakes. On the third jump, they stumbled. Daphne pulled to the left, Harry to the right, and the stone beneath them began to sway dangerously.
"Hang on," Harry shouted, but it was too late. They lost their balance and fell into the silvery-white liquid.
For a shocking moment, Harry expected to get wet, but it didn't happen. It was as if they were enveloped in a warm light, and the next moment Harry felt solid ground beneath his feet.
They were back where they had started, standing in front of the pool. The silver-white liquid glittered peacefully in front of them, as if nothing had happened. So this was the magic at work here.
Daphne clicked her tongue. "Okay, that could have gone better."
"We can try again," Harry said. "In fact, I think we have an infinite number of tries."
"But we don't have an infinite amount of time. We have to do it, and quickly."
Harry agreed, and together they stood at the edge of the pool again. They took another deep breath before jumping onto the first floating stone. This time their movements were better synchronised. They landed safely and quickly jumped onto the next stone.
They got a little further than on their first attempt. The stones moved erratically, but they found a rhythm that helped them get from one to the next; but then, on the fifth stone, just as they were about to jump again, the stone disappeared from under their feet. A short, startled gasp escaped them and they fell back into the silvery-white liquid.
Again it was as if they were bathed in a warm light, and a moment later they were standing at the edge of the pool as if nothing had happened. The liquid glistened peacefully before them, with no hint of the humiliation it had once again inflicted upon them.
Daphne was breathing heavily, but she straightened her shoulders and took a step forward. "Again," she said.
Harry nodded. "We have to be quicker. And more careful."
They stepped to the edge of the pool again. Harry squinted but he couldn't see the end in the darkness. It must be much further away. They took another deep breath and jumped onto the nearest stone.
This time everything seemed to go against them. They had barely crossed the first stones when another suddenly flew violently to the left. The unexpected movement threw them off balance. Their iron shackles pulled them in different directions, and once again they plunged into the silvery-white liquid.
Once again they were bathed in the warm light and found themselves at the edge of the pool. Harry was breathing heavily and had to adjust his glasses, which had slipped a little. He could feel frustration building up inside him.
"Maybe we should go back," he said, looking at Daphne. "Maybe there are easier ways."
Daphne's eyes narrowed. "If you suggest we give up again, I'm going to get really angry," she said dangerously quietly. "We're not giving up, ever."
His beloved girlfriend was so stubborn, Harry thought, sighing inwardly, but she was right. He wouldn't be able to look at himself in the mirror if he gave up now.
"Okay," he said finally. "Again."
And so they stood again at the edge of the pool, which shone with an eerie glow thanks to the silvery white liquid. It was as if the liquid was mocking them, for its surface was still as smooth as glass, without the slightest movement, while at the same time Harry's heart was beating wildly. And in the next few minutes, he learned that he would hate that silvery-white colour for the rest of his life.
For he and Daphne suffered one setback after another.
On their first attempt, they only got a few stones far before one suddenly disappeared and they fell into the liquid. The next time, a stone flew to the side and they lost their balance. On another attempt, Harry slipped and they both fell into the depths, and on the next, Daphne did the same. On one attempt, they even jumped a metre past the stone they were aiming for. Once they hit a stone with their shackles as they fell, making a bright, gong-like sound that echoed in Harry's ears for minutes. In a desperate attempt, they had even tried to freeze the stones in mid-air, but the spell had fizzled out like a drop of blood in a blazing fire.
"Again," Daphne said after another failed attempt. Her eyes sparkled with frustration and anger; anger at herself, if Harry had to bet.
He gasped for air and wiped the sweat from his brow. "Daphne, we have to –"
"Again," Daphne repeated sharply, jumping onto the first stone. Harry was pulled along, but immediately they stumbled and fell into the silvery-white liquid. They were catapulted back to the edge of the pool.
"It's no use!" Harry's voice was louder than he wanted it to be. "We're always in each other's way, the shackles are in the way and the bloody stones move completely unpredictably!"
Daphne glared at him, her frustration and anger even more evident than a few moments ago. "So what do you suggest, Harry? Give up?"
Harry looked at her for a moment and then shook his head. Giving up was not an option, but they had to do things differently. As Daphne prepared for the next attempt, he thought. Yes, their shackles were a handicap, but on the other hand they had a great advantage. If they used it, they might make it.
"Daphne, look at me."
Daphne turned her head to face him. "What?"
"Look at me," he repeated.
"But I'm looking at you."
"No," Harry said firmly. "Look at me properly."
He positioned himself directly in front of her, as close as their shackles allowed, and looked deep into her eyes. In the shimmering depths of her irises, he saw his own reflection, dark and distorted, but he didn't let that distract him. He looked deeper, beyond the surface, and at the same time his magic reached out, seeking her familiar presence and the bond that had bound them for so many years. It was as if he was grasping an invisible rope and pulling himself forward. Their bond was strong and intense, something they had built and nurtured together over the years. It wasn't just their magic that bound them, but something much, much deeper. Something unbreakable.
Daphne's eyes widened as she realised what he was doing. And then it became even easier for Harry. It was as if someone was pulling on the other end of the rope as well. They were two halves of a whole. Harry felt Daphne's strength, her determination, but also her uncertainty. He knew that she felt the same in him.
But he knew much more. He knew that Daphne was beautiful, brave and proud, intelligent and ruthless. She was an elegant warrior, a greedy witch, a willing sinner. And he had been with her every step of the way, been her support, as she had been his. On the way that really mattered. They would overcome this ridiculous obstacle, too, if only they would stop being so blind.
Slowly but surely, Daphne's left eye began to change. The amber gold was turning into a deep green, the same colour as Harry's eyes, or at least one of them. At the same time, he felt their magic intertwine, enveloping them both like the black wings of a crow. A comforting warmth spread through Harry, accompanied by the familiar, delicious taste of Daphne's blood on his tongue, which he absorbed greedily.
"We are one," he whispered, losing himself in the eyes of his mate and beloved.
"One," Daphne whispered back.
They kissed.
From the stands, Hermione watched the action through the giant magic mirrors, as did everyone else in the audience. Loud giggles went through the rows, especially from the girls, while most of the boys looked away in embarrassment or looked at each other mischievously. Some looked envious too. And Ginny looked like she'd eaten something bad for dinner.
But Hermione didn't giggle or look away. She just watched the way Harry's right hand rested on Daphne's neck and he rubbed his thumb along her jaw, and the way his tongue seemed to disappear into her mouth, as if he needed a part of her to breathe himself. And Hermione wondered what Daphne was saying against Harry's lips when they stopped, because whatever the words were, it made them start all over again, and this time their hunger for each other was so frightening to watch that it made Hermione look away.
Harry and Daphne stood at the edge of the pool again, as they had so many times before, but this time they were filled with renewed confidence. Daphne's left eye still glowed green in the twilight of the night and their bond felt strong and unyielding, much stronger and more unyielding than the iron shackles that had been placed on them from the outside. And so they would do it this time, Harry was sure of it, simply because they had always achieved everything together.
Together they took the first step. The stone beneath them wobbled, but that did not deter them. They jumped to the next stone without pausing, and from there to the next, and the next, and the next, and on and on, until the beginning of the pool disappeared into the darkness behind them. It was as if they were dancing, it seemed to Harry, as if they were just two legs of one person, perfectly synchronised and with a single, common goal.
At one point a piece of stone suddenly broke off and Daphne lost her balance, but Harry caught her with a quick grab and pulled her back safely. They laughed quietly at the unexpected mishap and continued on their way. The black stones moved more and more erratically, faster and faster, disappearing more and more often as their feet stepped on them, but Harry and Daphne reacted intuitively to each movement, balancing and supporting each other with each step.
All the while, the shimmering liquid beneath them remained calm and gentle, so much so that at one point Harry felt as if they were gliding over a piece of heaven. And with each step, they were getting closer to their goal.
After a while, they reached the far end of the pool. With one last leap, Harry and Daphne landed on the other side, back on solid ground.
The Gryffindors cheered and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. But her eyes were drawn to the magical map hovering above the maze, the positions of the champions marked with bright red symbols. While Harry and Daphne had been held up by the magical pool for so long, Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour had been getting closer to the centre of the maze.
In the mirror to her right, Hermione could see Viktor Krum hurrying through a part of the maze that was overgrown with dense undergrowth and snapping vines. The plants seemed to be out to get him, but Krum skilfully ducked under the vines, occasionally clearing a path with his wand. A few times he spun around and sent out jets of flame to ward off the aggressive plants that tried to attack him from behind.
Fleur Delacour, on the other hand, had to make her way through a whole pack of Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts, as Hermione saw in the mirror to her left. Delacour moved as gracefully as ever, dodging the explosions from the creatures' rear ends, leaping over them and putting out a patch of burning grass with a spell before taking a path that led to a dead end at the next fork. The audience could see, if not hear, her snort loudly as she ran back the way she had come.
By now Harry and Daphne had reached a path covered in a thick, yellowish fog.
"Oh, this could be exciting!" Bagman's magically amplified voice rang out over the stands. "For this is no ordinary fog, like that which follows a summer thunderstorm in the Scottish mountains, no, no, sinister dangers are lurking here..."
Harry and Daphne moved through the thick, yellow fog that burned their lungs with every breath they took, but that wasn't the worst of it. Again and again, biting snakes and stinging mosquitoes lunged at them from the fog, and the whole place was filled with a poisonous aura. They managed to avoid the snakes, but there was no avoiding the mosquitoes. They and the fog filled their veins with poison, and they could no longer keep up with the healing. Slowly, Harry felt his strength ebbing away.
Daphne clicked her tongue as she fended off a snake head that was lashing out at her. With a deft flick of her wrist, the snake froze to stone and crumbled to dust. "That's enough, Harry," she said firmly. "We've had our fun, but please end this now."
Harry raised his wand and called upon the power of his magic. A fierce gust of wind swept through the mist, swirling up the fumes, the snakes and the mosquitoes and hurling them high into the night sky, where they disappeared into the darkness. Let the stars and the moon take care of them, he thought as he healed the last of the mosquito bites on Daphne's body and his own.
The air around them was clear now and the path ahead was free. A long, straight path stretched out in front of them in exactly the right direction. Without further ado, Harry and Daphne quickened their pace.
On the floating map, Harry and Daphne's symbols moved quickly forward, getting closer and closer to the centre of the maze.
"Oh, maybe I'll win my bet after all," Ron muttered next to Hermione.
She gave her boyfriend an amused but affectionate look.
Harry and Daphne were walking along the path when the world around them was suddenly plunged into darkness. After a moment the light returned, revealing a creature with a bone mask growing from its face, but that was where the resemblance to their opponent from the beginning of the task ended. This creature was small, flat and hunched over, with grass growing from its back like fur. It held a staff topped with a human skull, and pale light shone from the skull's eye sockets. The monster's forked black tongue flickered from its mask, tasting the air.
"You shall not pass," a deep, rumbling voice growled without the creature's face moving.
The words had barely faded before the creature raised its staff... and split into a dozen identical copies. Its duplicates raised their staffs and all twelve faded until they were half transparent. They ran around Harry and Daphne, trailing a green mist that drifted closer to them.
It was painfully obvious to Harry where the real creature was. The others looked like flat drawings, and the real creature was the only one with depth. The illusions were running around, rustling grass and pretending to release clouds of green mist, while the real creature was the only one actually producing real gases as it crouched motionless and seemingly invisible in the grass.
"Okay, we need to find out which one is the real one," Daphne said from beside him. "Any ideas?"
Harry looked at her in surprise. "You don't see it?"
"What?" A look of confusion appeared on Daphne's pretty face as she looked at him questioningly.
"There's the real one," Harry said, pointing with his thumb at the creature sitting on the ground. It had started picking at blades of grass as if it didn't have any interest in them at all.
Daphne's puzzled expression lingered for a moment or two, then her green-gold eyes widened and a bright smile played around her lips. "Your glasses!" she said, "It seems I have really outdone myself with my enchantments. Perhaps I should make myself a pair."
Harry's reply came like a wand shot. "Absolutely not," he said, waving his own wand. A fiery red flash shot through the air and struck the real creature, who collapsed instantly. At the same time, all the illusions around them disappeared.
Daphne raised a dark eyebrow. "Absolutely not?"
"I love your face far too much to bear to see it hidden behind glasses."
A bright laugh came from Daphne as they continued on their way unhindered.
Hermione saw Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall and Madame Maxime talking excitedly to each other, while Bagman had already moved on to the other champions and the attention of the other spectators had quickly moved on as well.
Apparently, what Harry had just done had been quite impressive, even if it hadn't looked like it. She would have to ask him about that later.
Harry and Daphne continued on their way, and they must be very close to the centre of the maze now. All their magical senses told them that the Triwizard Cup couldn't be far away, like a tickle on their skin that grew stronger and stronger.
They turned a corner and the light from Harry's wand fell on a large grey wall. The wall was made of solid stone and was as high as the hedges of the maze. In the middle of the wall was a metal door, old and rusty, but obviously the only way through. Next to the door was an old man sitting on a rickety stool. The man looked bored, like a shopkeeper tired of dealing with customers all day.
Then Harry noticed that the man was slightly transparent, shimmering in the light of the stars. He wasn't sitting on the stool either, but hovering a few millimetres above it. It wasn't a man, it was a ghost.
Harry and Daphne approached slowly, but the ghost didn't seem to notice them. Bored, he stared into space while his ghostly fingers played with a slightly transparent key that Harry could now see up close. The key to the door?
But first he wanted to try something else. So Harry and Daphne walked past the ghost, who was still ignoring them, and headed for the door. Harry pressed against it, but nothing moved. Then he pointed his wand at the lock and thought "Alohomora", but the door still wouldn't open. He tried several other spells, but none had the desired effect, not even setting fire to it had any effect on the door.
"Damn it," Harry whispered, turning to the ghost for the first time. "Is the key to the door?"
The ghost snorted in annoyance but nodded curtly. "Yes."
The corners of Daphne's mouth twitched as if she was about to click her tongue. But instead she asked, "Can you give us the key, Mr Ghost?"
Again the ghost snorted and rolled his transparent eyes. "Yes, but you'll have to prove yourself worthy. Are you still interested?"
Daphne turned to Harry and whispered urgently, "We don't have time for this. I'll open the door, trust me."
With that she held out her hand and aimed it at the lock. Harry could feel her magical feelers reaching for the door. Their bond vibrated as he supported her with his magic. In his mind's eye, an image of Daphne poking around the lock with invisible lockpicks appeared.
A minute passed, maybe two. At some point, the ghost let out another exasperated snort.
"I don't mean any harm, honestly," he said. "I just need you to solve a few puzzles. I'll even give you a few hints. Now, what has three legs..."
The door opened and Harry and Daphne stepped through.
Hermione leaned forward in anticipation, as did everyone else in the audience. Now it was going to get exciting.
On the other side of the wall, a long, straight path awaited Harry and Daphne. And finally, after all the obstacles and trials, they saw their goal. Less than a hundred yards away, on a pedestal, the Triwizard Cup shimmered towards them.
"There it is!" said Harry.
"We're almost there," Daphne whispered with a hint of triumph in her voice.
They were about to break into a sprint when a dark figure suddenly leapt onto the path in front of them. It was Krum. He was going to get there first. The older student was sprinting towards the cup as fast as he could, and Harry knew they wouldn't be able to catch him, not with that head start and their shackles.
But just as Harry was about to raise his wand, he suddenly noticed something over the hedge to their right. Something immensely large was moving quickly along a path that intersected with their own; it was moving so fast that Krum was about to run into it, and Krum, his eyes on the cup, had not seen it.
"Daphne, we must hurry," Harry shouted, pulling her along. They ran along the path, their steps hurried and uneven.
Then the monster lunged at Krum. It was a gigantic spider. A loud crack, a hiss and a terrified scream from Krum filled the air. He fell to the ground, his wand rolling across the grass. The spider lunged at him with its legs and Krum screamed in pain.
"Aaaah! Help me! Please, help me!" cried Krum desperately as the spider dug its sharp legs into his body again.
Harry and Daphne ran past him. Their eyes were fixed on the shimmering cup. Then they reached the pedestal and each grabbed one of the handles at the same time.
At the same moment, Harry felt a tug. The ground beneath their feet disappeared and the cup, obviously a Portkey, pulled them away. The world around them became a swirling chaos of colour and light.
Moments later, they emerged from the maze. Thunderous applause greeted them like a storm breaking over them. The crowd shouted, clapped, whistled and drummed. The Gryffindors in particular jumped up and down, cheering and hugging each other.
Bagman's magically amplified voice thundered across the pitch, "Potter and Greengrass! Potter and Greengrass with the Cup! Hogwarts has won the Triwizard Tournament! Incredible! Sensational! What a final, ladies and gentlemen! We'll be telling our grandchildren about this day!"
The crowd began to stream towards them, led by Ron, Hermione and the twins.
Meanwhile, Daphne ran her left hand over their shackles, which broke with a loud crack and fell to the ground. The next moment she rushed to the judges' table and grabbed her wand. She held it so tightly and looked at it so lovingly, as if it were her most precious treasure. Harry was almost a little jealous.
Then Ron was with him. "Harry, that was amazing!" he exclaimed, his voice full of excitement. He slapped him so hard on the shoulder that Harry almost lost his balance.
Hermione threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, and he could see the tears of joy in her eyes. "You did it Harry! You really did it!"
The twins came next and placed a gold cardboard crown on his head. "Our champion!" shouted George and Fred laughed out loud. The crowd cheered even louder, the pitch now a sea of happy faces and cheering people.
Harry couldn't help but laugh out loud too. They had done it. They had shown everyone. They had proved that they were the best this bloody school had to offer!
After the emotions had died down a little, it was finally time for the victory ceremony.
The crowd in the stands was still cheering, albeit a little more subdued, as Harry and Daphne climbed the stairs to a podium built especially for the occasion. The applause accompanied them like a wave, carrying them all the way up. The eyes of everyone present were on them, and Harry felt a sense of happiness and pride vibrate through his bond with Daphne, like the purr of a cat; or the contented caw of a crow that has caught a particularly meaty mouse.
They passed Professor McGonagall, who beamed happily at them. "Well done, you two. You've done Hogwarts proud. And Harry, your parents would also be very proud of you today."
Dumbledore stood beside her and clapped. "That was truly impressive. I hope it is everything you hoped it would be."
Madame Maxime, towering over everyone else, nodded in agreement. "Très bien, vous deux."
Even Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum – whose injuries were no longer visible after a visit to Madam Pomfrey – nodded at them, if only briefly. Karkaroff seemed far less enthusiastic, but even he forced himself to say a curt "Well done", his voice as warm as the winters at Hogwarts.
Finally, Harry and Daphne stood before Cornelius Fudge. The Minister for Magic shook their hands vigorously, while in his free hand he held a large sack containing the prize money of a thousand galleons.
But instead of handing over the prize money, Fudge stepped up to a microphone on the stage, apparently to make a speech. This irritated Harry a little, after all this was their big moment, but it was probably just part of the political game.
Fudge raised his hands to muffle the volume of the audience and began to speak in a strong voice.
"Ladies and gentlemen, honoured guests from near and far! What an extraordinary day, what a glorious occasion! It fills me with immense pride and joy to stand here today and celebrate the conclusion of this magnificent tournament – a tournament that has been nothing short of a miracle of magical cooperation and community, organised and delivered by the British Ministry of Magic. We have spared no effort to make this tournament an unprecedented event, we have spared no expense to ensure that this tournament goes down in magical history. And what history it is! The enthusiasm of all of you, ladies and gentlemen, and the enthusiasm of witches and wizards all over Europe who have followed each of the tasks with excitement, is living proof of the success of our efforts."
Harry exchanged glances with Daphne. His girlfriend rolled her eyes, a half-amused smile on her lips. It was the kind of smile you might give to a dog that was sniffing its own bum. The thought almost made Harry smile too.
"It is, in all modesty, also no coincidence that Hogwarts won the tournament. No, my friends, it is the result of our tireless efforts and unwavering commitment to nurturing the next generation of witches and wizards. Under my leadership, the Ministry has made every effort to provide the best possible conditions for the schooling and development of our next generation. The excellence of the magical education at Hogwarts is a shining example of these efforts, and today is a testament to the fruits of our labour. Today, therefore, is not only a victory for Hogwarts, but – and I say this with all humility, but also with all well-deserved self-confidence – a victory for the British Ministry of Magic, over which I am proud to preside as Minister."
The smile faded from Daphne's face and Harry felt a sudden flash of anger. The Ministry hadn't done shit. This was their victory, theirs alone!
"And of course I would also like to congratulate the Hogwarts teaching staff and Headmaster Dumbledore, without whom none of this would have been possible. But I am particularly proud of these two extraordinary young people here. Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass, two of the youngest champions in the history of the Triwizard Tournament, have shown unwavering dedication and extraordinary courage. Despite the considerable odds against them at the start of the Tournament, they overcame every obstacle to claim victory. Not even the fact that they had recently fallen victim to a criminal's vile spells, which would have also challenged more skilled and experienced wizards, could stop them."
A hot sting burned across Harry's chest. His left eye twitched. Instinctively, his hand went to his wand.
"These two champions have shown us that with the right support and an unshakable belief in yourself, anything is possible. That you don't have to be a great wizard or witch to achieve great things."
He shouldn't have said that, Harry thought as a fiery heat ran through him. It was as if Fiendfyre had ignited in his heart, spreading through his veins and consuming his entire being. He looked at Daphne, who met his gaze. Her green-gold eyes widened as she caught his thoughts. A second or two passed as Fudge continued to speak, pointing in their direction. Then she gave him a slight, slow nod.
Harry clutched his wand. They would make a sacrifice, an offering on the altar of their own ambitions. But they would not be the ones to pay the bloody price.
With a determined movement, Harry raised his wand — and thrust it straight into Fudge's eye.