In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 125: Important Tasks
Harry didn't wake up on the first of Sunday, instead, found himself in the dungeon classroom. Every student, save Harry and the other Gryffindor boys, had their Potter STINKS! badges on, working at their cauldrons while Professor Snape graded homework at the desk. Door that opened, Colin Creevey entered, stepped up to the front desk.
"Yes?" Professor Snape asked, the eyes that did not greet Colin's.
Unsure if this Snape was less guarded, or didn't bother hiding the delight in puncturing the cheerfulness and optimism from the third year Creevey.
"Please sir," Colin said, "I'm supposed to take Harry Potter upstairs."
Harry knew the loathing was deep, the way his name grinded to Snape's mind left no false illusions. The stare along the crooked nose at Colin, the smile faded from the eager face.
"Potter has another hour of Potions to complete," Professor Snape said, "He will come upstairs when this class is finished."
Colin's cheeks went pink. Harry tried to instill a bit of confidence, the Gryffindor lion into the mind.
"Sir—sir, Mr. Weasley wants him," Colin said, the tremor to the voice, the nerves, "All champions—photographs."
Harry doubted Harry liked this prospect as much as he did the first time, however, it was also a way out of this class, and the book–bag was already slung over the shoulder.
"Very well, very well," Professor Snape said, "Potter, leave—"
"Please sir—all his things," squeaked Colin, "All champions—"
"Go Potter," Professor Snape said, the glee at the forefront of the mind, "Get out of my sight!"
Harry disapparated, apparated into the classroom upstairs, the velvet stands with a gap in the middle where Percy stood, the goblet behind him. Sulking to one corner, Viktor Krum.
"It's…" Cedric blushed, next to Fleur to the left. "Guess I signed up for this."
Fleur smiled.
"You like beauty," Fleur said.
Cedric blushed a bit deeper. His eyes turned to disgust though, as Harry entered with Colin.
"Soaking it up," Cedric muttered.
Harry's eyes sharp enough that he set the book–bag on the table by the door by the other three piles, though he grabbed his wand before he continued.
"There you are Harry," Percy said, "Waiting on the wand weighing, and pictures, but in the meanwhile…this is Rita Skeeter." He gestured toward the witch in magenta robes, with elaborate and rigid curls. "Small piece for The Daily Prophet."
"Maybe not that small," Rita Skeeter said, "Mind if I have a little word with…the youngest champion?"
Harry pushed his other self from behind, and Harry went with her to the cupboard, entered. She closed the door. Harry waited a bit.
"One reason she went for him first," said Viktor.
"I wouldn't cast stones," said Karkaroff as he entered.
"My father works for the Ministry," Cedric said softly with Fleur, "Department of Magical Creatures."
Fleur grinned.
"Guess this is the real first task," Cedric said, "And you…Mr. Bone the Ministry."
Percy blushed.
"It's dignified work," Percy said, "Way more willing to go the extra mile."
"He's got a suit," Fleur said.
"Not where it matters," Viktor grumbled.
"Greetings," said Professor Dumbledore as he entered, Maxime with him.
A fast foot behind, a short man entered. The Daily Prophet strap between the neck and the camera in hands.
"Interview." Percy pointed to the cupboard.
Professor Dumbledore went over, opened the door. Harry didn't really need to listen, he remembered. Harry stepped out first, followed by Rita Skeeter.
"Over here," the camera man said.
Viktor went over, stood on the short pedestal, the man raised up on the other as he snapped the pictures.
"Turn," the camera man said.
"I…volunteered," Cedric said as he stepped up to the pedestal.
"Expect marriage proposals by morning," Rita Skeeter said to him.
A point, Fleur that stepped up. Again, the camera man worked the pictures, took them.
"And…the famous one," Rita Skeeter said.
Harry stepped up.
"And…a group photo," Rita Skeeter said.
Footsteps of the last man to enter, as the camera man worked the camera to the lot of the four champions. A second set with Fleur and Cedric. A final set, of Harry and Cedric. A glare from the Headmaster and Percy, Rita Skeeter left with the camera man.
"Welcome Garrick," said Professor Dumbledore to the silvered hair man, one Harry recognized too, "Mr. Ollivander is here to inspect your wands, for fairness, we want to make sure each is in working order as you certainly don't want to be caught confronting danger without its use."
"Wands are more personal than…" Mr. Ollivander drifted off. "By the window, starting with Mademoiselle Delacour."
Fleur walked with Mr. Ollivander to the window. Harry spotted the pink and gold sparks, the examination, followed by a bunch of flowers that burst from the wand tip.
"In working order," Mr. Ollivander said, "Mr. Krum."
Viktor smartened himself out, the round shoulders, the duckish like feet, and went toward Mr. Ollivander as Fleur returned to Cedric.
"Informally," Fleur said.
"Um…" Cedric muttered, "Sure."
"Gregorovitch creation?" Mr. Ollivander asked Viktor.
Wand in the hand, the gun like blast, along with small twittering birds that flew out the end and through the open window into the watery afternoon sunlight.
"Mr. Diggory," Mr. Ollivander said.
"You may wait or go," Karkaroff said.
Viktor went to the table while Cedric handed over his wand.
"Polish this…regularly?" Mr. Ollivander asked Cedric.
Harry knew the answer if the question were even being asked.
"One of mine…" Mr. Ollivander gave a wave to the twelve and a quarter inch ash wand, silvery smoke rings blew across the room from it. "It's in working order."
Cedric took the wand, stood with Fleur while Harry walked up to Mr. Ollivander. Holly wand to the finger tips, the examination.
"And…" Mr. Ollivander took out a cloth, ran it over the surface. "Polish, polish, especially in a tournament."
Mr. Ollivander made a fountain of wine shoot out of Harry's wand, returned it.
"Thank you all," said Professor Dumbledore, "You may go back to your lessons—or perhaps it's better to go down to dinner."
Viktor and Karkaroff left first. Maxime and Professor Dumbledore next, followed by Percy. Giggling between Fleur and Cedric as they both left.
"And there's one more wand left to check," said Mr. Ollivander, "Your name came out of the goblet, did it not?"
Harry's invisibility that fell, the summon of the wand into the hand, and handed it over.
"Well polished, finally somebody who listens," Mr. Ollivander said, "And…well used."
"It is," Harry said, "And as to it working…"
Harry's wand jumped out of Mr. Ollivander's into his own. A turn, the dragon of fire that flew tightly in the classroom, breathing out plumes of ice. A table jumped up to become a large snake that moved over Harry to devour.
"Aw!" Harry mulled in panic as he dove to floor.
Harry handed the wand back to Mr. Ollivander.
"I think it works," Harry said, "Though…that's not every wand on me."
Mr. Ollivander's disappointed, yet puzzled eyes.
"Good to have a spare," Harry said as he pulled out the spare oak wand. "Won this off a person attacking—good in case, well, you know."
"Pliable," Mr. Ollivander said, "Moved through a number of hands—second hand."
"I prefer mine—the first one," Harry said, "And for the other…I promise not to fly away, as it's also a wand."
Harry summoned it, the broom hovered.
"Crafted by you and Devlin Whitehorn, thank you very much," Harry said, "It's how I got here, and it's how I'll leave."
Color drained from Mr. Ollivander's face.
"End is nigh," Mr. Ollivander muttered.
"It's a nice broom," Harry said as he banished it away.
"Seemed a fairy tale," Mr. Ollivander said, "Spoken by fathers of wandmakers to spook their children on Halloween, that when a broom is crossed with a wand, it'll mean the end of us all."
Footsteps behind Harry.
"What?" asked Cedric, "End of us all—and two?"
Harry's wand in the hand, the shutting of the door, which turned into a stone wall, and the window shuttered itself closed tight.
"Voldemort's playing a dangerous game," Harry said, "I've already done the tournament. I'll help the both of you, for the sake of Hogwarts, understood?"
Harry paused.
"First hint," Harry continued, "A day or two before the task—once I verify it's the same, should give you plenty of time to prepare. That sound fair?"
Cedric nodded.
"Good seeing you again," Harry said to him.
Cedric unsure.
"Go flirt with Fleur," Harry said, "Strengthen those relations this tournament's supposed to be fostering."
Cedric snorted, the grin.
"I want to know everything," Cedric said, "How old are you?"
"Sixteen," Harry said, "And everything…no, not now, please trust me on this."
"Can I…" Cedric asked, pointed to where the door used to be.
"Keep this to yourself," Harry said to Cedric, "Best to forget about it."
Cedric nodded. Harry glanced, the door that returned to existence. Mr. Ollivander left.
"And…what I came back for," Cedric said, as he grabbed the book–bag from the table.
Cedric left.
"I suck," Harry said.
"You're a fourth year," Harry said.
"Don't see sixth years doing that," Harry said, "You impressed Cedric and he's seventh."
"Study up," Harry said, "See you in… several weeks."
"You're vanishing again," Harry said.
"Yep," Harry said, "Time… funny thing, better for me to see the whole picture. You…you enjoy the long way around. Later."
Harry's wand out, the swish, and the invisibility. He followed his younger doppelganger out of the classroom. A left in lieu of the right, to the corridor that led to the dungeon. Harry recognized the bushy brown hair, of Hermione against the wall, Draco Malfoy's hands that spread her robes and felt up.
"Enhancements taking hold," said Draco Malfoy.
"Can I curse?" came the familiar voice.
Dimness, the outline, Harry felt the other, they both walked out into the courtyard.
"I've learned my lesson, again."
"We leave now and…I think our universe burns, and this remains in its place."
"Know who?" Hermione asked.
"Does it matter?" Harry said, "Already setup…they have to watch and wait. We…I think I know when. Until then…time."
Harry held her hand, felt the shock.
Usual stone tile beneath the feet, Harry landed in the dormitory. He checked the calendar to the wall, the days ticked off.
"Took your time," said Harry as he stood, "Past midnight."
"Sunday the twenty second?" Harry asked.
"Guess it would," Harry replied.
"Stay here Hermione," Harry said to her, "And you…"
Harry grabbed the Firebolt.
"We're flying," Harry said, "Courtesy of Sirius Black."
"He…he really sent me that?" Harry asked.
"You missed on so much," Harry said, "On my back."
Harry mounted the Firebolt, and Harry climbed on the back, held on.
"How—it's not…" Harry started.
Harry glanced, the window opened.
"Whoa—no…no…" Harry muttered.
Harry took off, bolted through it. Harry shrieked until they leveled off.
"You're mad," Harry said, "That's it, you're mad…I'm mad."
Harry headed for the edge of the forest, hugged the perimeter. Ear screeching became louder as the castle and lake slipped out of sight. Smoke that billowed up from within the clearing, Harry banked the broom around it, the four large open crates, the dragons within. Below, Harry spotted Charlie Weasley and Adam among the dozens of wizards.
"Those…" Harry said, "Are those…"
Harry flew back, toward the vacant hut, the door that opened, and they landed within.
"Hagrid…clued me in last time," Harry said, "Dragons—guess what they're for?"
"Oh," Harry said, "First task."
Harry held the shoulder.
"Relax," Harry said, "Let Cedric know…Monday morning, right after breakfast, as he's headed toward class. His bag splits, so tell him."
"He's…" Harry said, "They all…"
"Got these…" Harry held the crotch of Harry's pajamas, the lumps clear. "Use them."
"You're…you're…" Harry started.
"Here's your broom back," Harry handed the Firebolt to him, "Fly back to your dormitory."
Harry took the broom, ran out the door. Harry sighed.
"Not easy, is it?" asked Professor Dumbledore, who appeared a moment later.
"No it's not," Harry said, "I'm trying to not hand it on a silver platter—he doesn't need that."
"Failure—" Professor Dumbledore started.
"More than one death eater is watching," Harry said, "Need him to do plausibly well if I'm to thwart Voldemort's return."
"Aw," Professor Dumbledore said, "That's your goal?"
"Yes it is," Harry said.
"Noble," Professor Dumbledore said, "Might he have other ways?"
"Possibly yes," Harry said, "Having it go like last time at least lets me stop this way."
Harry sighed, turned for the fireplace.
"What happens should the other reality collapse and there's two Harry's in this one?" Harry asked.
"You tell me," Professor Dumbledore said.
"I do not know," Harry said, "Time likes to heal wounds, and I'm the thorn."
"A fight for your survival?" the Headmaster asked.
"Two realities," Harry said, "And Voldemort coming out stronger? Which one should I chose? I'd rather the one where I have a chance—unless you like an eternity of his rule."
"As displeasing to me as it is to you," said Professor Dumbledore.
"Excuse me," Harry said, "I'll see you in two days."
Harry's emotion carried him as he apparated into the dormitory. Hermione on the bed.
"Fast or slow?" Harry whispered.
"I'll take the scenic route," Hermione whispered.
"See you," Harry said.
Shock, the tightness, the candles already up as he apparated into the tent. Inside, all four of the champions.
"Everybody, twenty minutes," Percy announced.
"He didn't learn a damn thing," Hermione whispered to Harry.
"He's…unable?" Harry asked.
Hermione nodded.
"Eff…" Harry mulled it over. "If you're uncertain…it's Treacle Fudge, understood?"
Hermione's eyes that wondered.
"Remember Treacle Fudge," Harry repeated.
Harry glanced around, walked toward the wardrobe, and opened it. Inside, Harry sitting on the bottom of it, the knees up, some tears that dribbled down.
"I'm dead, aren't I?" Harry asked.
"Get up," Harry said.
Green eyes that stared upward.
"Bullying like Uncle Vernon?" asked Harry.
"Trying to keep you from looking the dead fool," Harry said, "Got a plan."
"You do?" Harry asked.
"Summon the Firebolt," Harry said.
Harry turned to Hermione.
"My summons don't work," Harry said.
"Announce the charm," Harry said, "And Hermione—teach him something to explain me."
"You're going in?" Hermione asked.
"Harry James Potter is the champion," Harry said.
"I'll work with him," Hermione said.
"And watch for…her," Harry said.
Hermione reached, tugged on the hand.
"You?" Hermione asked.
"Somebody's in that audience who's not supposed to be," Harry said, "I want to find out—and he gets to select the model, in a few moments."
Harry disapparated, apparated and jumped onto his broom. Invisibility cast, he flew, the laps around the dragon enclosure, with its stands, and the dragons in their four nests. Below, Harry spotted Fred and George collecting wagers, a snort. Professor Dumbledore took the podium, the loud bang.
"Attention Everybody!" Professor Dumbledore announced, "A great day is upon us all! Each of the three tasks involve a considerable amount of danger."
Harry flew low, spotted Hermione sitting with Draco Malfoy, with his parents and extended relatives. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sat near the pink haired Tonks.
"First up," Professor Dumbledore said, "Cedric Diggory of Hogwarts!"
Harry watched as Cedric stepped out of the tent, the feet that gingerly gripped the rocks, when Lee Jordan's voice boomed over the other, clear he had the magical microphone.
"Diggory enters the arena," announced Jordan, "As he's watching the dragon, we're keeping an eye on him with the witches of Witch Weekly judging the three wizards."
A jog to the right, Cedric dodged the blueish gray Swedish Short–Snout.
"Ouch," said Jordan, "Risking…"
Puff of flame. Wave of the wand, the rock that became a labrador, one that ran toward the nest.
"Watch your nest!" Cedric shouted at the dragon.
Blueish gray, the wings that did work out the threat the canine posed, and went after it. Cedric waited a moment, walked toward the nest. He grabbed the egg when the roar happened, and flame approached. Cedric ran for it, the talon that sliced down the back, as the fire stopped him. Charlie stepped in, cast the stunning charm, while Madam Pomfrey helped Cedric into a different tent.
"And…the champion did get the egg," said Professor Dumbledore, "Next up, Miss. Delacour from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic."
Fleur stepped out.
"Boys—I see…oh…" Jordan said, the thrust upwards of his pelvis into the air.
Fleur aimed her wand, the spell that hit the dragon. A bit of a flail, and she approached carefully.
"We're waiting with baited breath if that works," Jordan said, "Might be the last time you witness that snatch! Pardon me if the danger…"
Jordan's right hand held the microphone.
"A bit to the left, to the right," Jordan said, "She's hoping…oh, the dragon."
Harry'd already seen it, the puff from those nostrils, indiscriminate.
"Fleur's now hot," Jordan said, "And my stiffy…"
Fleur's wand poured out the water as the flame hit her, and darted around the head, to beneath the belly. Her rear showed as she bent down to reach. An egg she grabbed, and bolted to another flame.
"Might be time to hard boil it," Jordan said.
Again, Charlie with the assistance of a second wizard, regained control to the Welsh Green, while Madam Pomfrey pulled Fleur into the tent.
"Third up is Mr. Viktor Krum from Durmstrang," Professor Dumbledore announced, "Patience as he faces the Chinese Fireball."
Viktor entered. A fast twitch of the wand, the spell to the scarlet dragon's eye, and Viktor bolted in.
"Oh… that dragon…" Jordan announced.
Dragon hit the ground, the tail that thrashed.
Crunch!
One large egg broke apart, the scarlet runny yoke in a sea of liquid hit the nest. Viktor darted again, dropped into the nest, the scales that hit him and the blood off the skin. Another drop, pushed Viktor down on that egg, soaked him in the yoke.
"Ouch," Jordan said.
A bend over as he reached, another strike, the crowd's gasps. Viktor grabbed the egg, pulled it up, and ran. Tail of the dragon smashed down again, the breath of flame that brushed Viktor to singe away the clothes. Sallow skinned, Viktor fell into the arms of Madam Pomfrey who drew him into the tent.
"Last but not least," Professor Dumbledore said, "Mr. Harry Potter of Hogwarts, he gets to face the Hungarian Horntail."
Harry spotted the tremble in his other self, as Harry entered the arena. In front of him, the large black dragon with yellow eyes. Harry read those eyes, tried to instill the confidence.
"Oh, he's not ready at all," Jordan said.
Another attempt, Harry tried to instill desire for the Firebolt into Harry. Wand that raised.
"ACCIO FIREBOLT!" Harry shouted.
Harry knew not enough strength in it, aimed his broom, and thought it too. A moment later, the Firebolt flew over the hill, and Harry banished his own broom.
"Sgeadachadh!" Harry shouted, the wand that twitched.
Harry's invisibility dropped as he hit the Firebolt.
"A projection," Professor Dumbledore said, "How clever!"
Harry flew fast for the eggs, the cast as the chains disintegrated.
"Nobody panic," Professor Dumbledore announced.
Wings that flapped as Harry rebounded around. A tickling charm that only seemed to make the dragon breath out fire. Harry pulled up, around, as the dragon pursued. Harry kept it slow enough to let the dragon stay on his tail. A roll as the fire blew out.
"Krum—Krum!" Jordan shouted, "WATCH HIM FLY!"
Harry knew this dragon, kept flying around the dragon, persuading her that he was the threat. As before, the dragon drew its attention toward Harry on the Firebolt.
"Oh my…" said Jordan, "I see the beauty in Potter's plan."
Below, Harry walked, unobstructed, toward the nest. Dragon, however, caught on, the turn, and Harry bolted. Again, around the breaths.
"Potter best hurry," Jordan said.
Harry managed it again, but this time, as Harry returned toward safety. A loud screech, the talon that ripped down, tore into Harry's shoulder, the flesh wound that bled, and the egg rolled into the tent. Harry remained idle, still, while Harry thought of it.
"OVER HERE!" Harry shouted, hovered near the nest.
Yellow eyes toward him, the dragon approached. A focus, Harry disapparated without the Firebolt.
"And his projection is no more," Professor Dumbledore announced.
Harry had already apparated, with a fast invisibility, into the medical tent.
"Ouch…ouch," Harry grumbled as Madam Pomfrey tended to him.
"Harry," said Ron as he approached, "Gotta be bonkers to have entered yourself."
Harry found Hermione, the disapparation, apparation into the Headmaster's office, where evening had already set in.
"Thank you for covering…it up," Harry said.
Professor Dumbledore leafed through old parchment.
"Flying's been tried once before to mixed success," Professor Dumbledore said, "As to having two…unique."
"Congratulating yourself?!" Hermione asked.
"He's gotta have confidence," Harry said, "Maybe he's gained a measure."
Hermione sighed.
"Was that a real charm?" Harry asked.
"Likely could have been," Hermione said, "You know the key, focus, even a pronunciation gets the point across."
Harry snorted.
"After criticizing Ron…" Hermione started.
"Think he forgave you years ago," Harry said, "Maybe a heartbeat after we rescued you from the troll."
Hermione grinned.
"Care for a dance?" Harry asked.
Harry's right hand to hers, the left around her back, as their feet began to move. A quick hoot from Fawkes.
"Will I see you again?" asked Professor Dumbledore.
"I'll be around, again," Harry promised.
Hermione stepped to Harry's feet, the tap, the dance, and the shock that came to them. Harry took another step, the lights of the Great Hall, the trees to the back, the tables cleared, and the room full of awkward students.
"Oh," Hermione muttered.
"Second chance," Harry said, "Because you're wonderful and we were being…"
"Acted your age," Hermione whispered.
"Unenlightened," Harry said, "This time…"
He reached, held her tight, the hug.
Chime! Chime!
Center of the hall cleared out, the students that moved toward the edges. Most Gryffindor boys had scarlet red velvet suits and yellow trim. Others, in various dresses and dress robes. In the back, the small band that settled its instruments down.
"To start this off," said Professor McGonagall, "The champions, starting with the youngest."
Candles that dimmed, the door from the antechamber that opened, and out walked Harry with Ron.
"And the first dance," Professor McGonagall said.
Music that began, the spotlight as Harry put his arm behind Ron, the right hand that held Ron's left. Ron's grin on the freckled face as the two danced.
"Oh," Hermione muttered, "Guess they made up."
Harry snorted, watched as the second pair emerged, Fleur with Cedric. Spotlight to Cedric, the grin, the hands that worked her as they kissed. Cedric began to waltz.
"Cho?" Hermione whispered.
Third, Viktor stepped out with Hermione.
"I went…again," Hermione muttered.
Harry spotted the displeasure of it in Hermione's eyes, not really caring for Viktor. A quick scan of the room, to Draco Malfoy on the other side in black dress robes, Pansy Parkinson to his shoulder. Draco's eyes easy to read, the thought of the fee received.
"You…you were rented to him," Harry whispered.
"What?!" Hermione stammered.
"May the ball continue," Professor McGonagall said.
A steady crowd of students remained to the walls, while the floor thickened up with a few. Harry grabbed Hermione's hand. Harry felt the tap, and spun.
"Which one are you?" asked Cedric.
"I'm the thorn," Harry said, "The outsider."
"Was going to thank you about telling me about the dragon," Cedric said.
"I told him," Harry said, "Left telling you, up to him."
Music that came to a pause.
"Dance?" Harry asked, figured it the best way to chat.
Cedric taken aback, still, nodded. Harry wrapped one arm around Cedric.
"You know how this all turns out," Cedric whispered.
"I know how mine turned out," Harry said, "Told you, this one's different already."
"Oh," Cedric whispered.
"In mine," Harry said, "You brought Cho instead."
"Oh, her?" Cedric said, "Possible, I suppose."
Heartbeat in Cedric, better than Harry final memory of him, the parents crying over the idled body.
"More to this," Cedric said, "Isn't there?"
"It's…fine," Harry said, the reluctant release as the music faded, "Have a ball—or two."
A tap to the shoulder.
"My turn," said Fleur.
Harry stepped back, glanced again at Cedric. Harry motioned toward Cedric.
"Meant you," Fleur said.
Cedric snorted, waved, and gave a push to Harry's shoulder. She reached, held Harry's waist.
"You're in good spirits," Fleur said.
Harry grinned.
"Friendly competition," Fleur said.
Harry glanced over at Viktor, the one that loitered to the corner, the glare that few approached.
Fleur sighed.
"Care to share?" Cedric whispered.
Harry felt the hand that spun him.
"There you are," said the red haired Ron, "Been…busy."
Ron's hands to Harry's, the sudden waltz.
"Um…two," Harry whispered.
"Should wear name tags," Ron said, "That'd be silly though."
Ron took another twirl.
"We're…friends?" Ron asked.
"Yes," Harry replied.
"Wasn't…certain," Ron said.
"Trying to let your Harry…live," Harry replied.
"You're butting in," Ron said.
"Voldemort meddled," Harry whispered, "Need to foul his plan up."
"Harry never figured out the chamber because he thought you'd rescue," Ron said, "And by the time he realized…it was too late, Ginny was lost."
"You needed Hermione," Harry replied, "She…she figured it out."
Ron sighed.
"Tired of hearing about her," Ron said, "She's a snobbish sarcastic—"
"Know it all," Harry said.
"You're poisoning him," Ron snapped, "So, butt out."
A push, Ron shoved Harry back, when the shock came. Electric shocks still flowed through Harry, fell backward through the Prefects' bathroom as one egg was submerged. Again, water as he fell through the lake past the four tied up. Back slammed against grass, the stands above. In those stands, Hermione sat with Ron and Neville. Another Hermione, the other, sat next to Draco Malfoy with a fine chain tied to a collar around her neck.
"And finally," said Professor Dumbledore, "Three…two…one."
A band of the whistle, Fleur entered the maze. Harry understood, the invisibility to himself as he bolted into the maze. Harry took his steps. Panic that rose within him, that he might be too late. A thought, the summon of his broom.
Harry flew along the hedge. A shriek, and Harry flew up, over, to Viktor with his wand aimed toward Fleur trapped in a pocket.
"AVADA—" Viktor started.
Harry cursed first, the red that shot from the broom, enveloped the Durmstrang champion, and down Viktor went. Harry landed and banished his broom.
"We…" Fleur started.
"We're allowed a wand," Harry quipped.
A push, the ropes that bound Viktor.
"Best move," Harry said.
Harry took Viktor's wand, the shot upward of red sparks.
"Run!" Harry snapped.
Harry grabbed Fleur's hand, both ran along the hedges for a minute before they stopped.
"Shortcut," Harry said.
Harry's wand out, the blast in the hedge. Feet on the soggy ground. Past a dead large spider, the skin of a large snake.
"We're on the right path," Harry said, recognized the dark dead Devil's Snare on the ground.
"Faster," Fleur said as she followed Harry.
Harry blasted, again.
"You're enjoying this," Fleur said.
Harry spotted them, Cedric with Harry confronted with a Hippogrif.
"Put away your wands!" Harry snapped as he entered.
"Two of you?" Fleur asked.
"No wands," Harry said, "Approach him with respect, and don't break eye contact. Show you."
Harry stepped in front of Cedric and Harry, stood to make eye contact. Harry bowed, approached cautiously. Harry smiled, the chillness of the light sound from within the overgrown bird seemingly crossed with a horse. Harry reached, stroked the feathers.
"We're just going by, alright?" Harry asked.
Cedric took the lead, Harry and Fleur followed.
"Thank you," Harry said, "Be back to feed you."
A grin, Harry stepped away, followed Fleur.
"Three Hogwarts—" Fleur started.
"I represent all of wizard kind," Harry stated, "I'm not your competitor, unless you make me one."
Harry unsure how much of that he believed himself, still, felt good to say it.
"I see it," said Cedric, "The cup."
"Who?" Fleur asked.
"Cedric…we shared it," Harry said, "But…"
"But what?" Cedric asked, the spin around.
Harry loitered to the other side, watched.
"It was a trap," Harry said, the pain that had returned, resurfaced, his scar that began to flare, "Still is."
"That's what you're trying to change?" asked Harry.
"Yeah," Harry replied, "What to avoid—"
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" came the shout.
Faster than Harry could respond, the green that enveloped Fleur.
"What?" Cedric stammered.
Harry's wand drawn, the flick, the cyan toward the man, it encased Mad Eye Moody, reduced the man to kibble. Harry spotted them, the black hooded figures that approached. A thought, an attempt to disapparation met with knife like nail sensations.
"Cup—now," Harry stammered.
"Trap?" Cedric asked.
"Better it than—run!" Harry shouted.
Harry pushed Cedric, Harry that joined in the chase. Toes in the dirt as their hands gripped the handle. Jerks behind the navals, all three swept away.
"Who told you it's a Portkey?" Cedric asked, the gravestones around them.
"Wands out," Harry quipped, "Actually…"
Harry opened his holster, pulled out his spare.
"Two?" Harry asked.
"Right now," Harry said, "Yours is useless."
"Kill the spare!"
Harry pushed Cedric down onto the ground as the green flew out, struck Harry.
"What?" Cedric sputtered.
"Stay down," Harry said, "I'm dead already."
Harry stood, the gravestone clear, marked Tom Riddle. A step, the disapparation and apparation to the other side of the cauldron.
"Payback!" Harry snapped.
Curse that struck Wormtail, the baby that fell to the ground as Wormtail collapsed, the blood that poured from the bloodied stump of a wrist.
"Imbecile!" shouted Voldemort.
"And…" Harry flicked, the cauldron that split, the pewter that let out the liquid within.
"Not powerless," Voldemort shouted.
Baby that dropped, the mist of the spirit that flew at Harry, consumed him into darkness.
…
Harry came to on the grass.
"Let me—" came the plea of Madam Pomfrey.
"No," Hermione stated.
"Treacle Fudge!" Harry snapped.
Hermione's brown eyes to Harry, the understanding.
"Mr. Potter," said Professor Dumbledore.
Harry felt the shock, this time, not moving.
"It's still a trap," Harry said as he sprung up, past Ron sobbing to the dead Harry.
Harry ran to Cedric hugging his father.
"Come," Harry said.
"Please," Amos said.
"No time to lose," Harry said.
Harry's eyes to Cedric's.
"What?" Cedric asked.
"For my last trick…on my back," Harry said. Harry summoned his broom. "Mean it."
Harry mounted the broom, felt Cedric come on behind.
"We'll be a bit heavy," Harry said.
Harry aimed, between Hermione's legs, her crouched, and flew. She barely gripped onto Harry as he hit onto her.
"What?" Hermione stammered, "About to explain—"
"One…up broom, up!" Harry commanded.
"Three?" Cedric asked.
"Short flight," Harry said, when he spotted it, near the cup, the red dot of magic as the shockwave approached.
He flew for it, the tendril that drew them in. Shock on the skin, Cedric to the back. Harry spotted the bright yellow mark that glowed in the darkness of the night, lit up the Astronomy Tower.
"Technically suspended," Harry said.
Harry reached, grabbed the two shoulders. A trigger to Hermione's mind, the thoughts that brought about the tightness, apparation onto sand, with the crash of waves in the near distance. Harry yawned, found himself going to sleep.
Hermione woke early Sunday to her head face planted down on Harry. A twist, she got up in the wind. Sand beneath her feet, she walked down the embankment, to the waves of the ocean that came up the beach.
"NO! NO!" came Harry's shout, and a scream.
"What?" stammered Cedric as he stood.
A twist of feet, Hermione knew Harry's nightmares had returned, a sign they made it back. Cedric made the rapid drop down the beach to Hermione.
"Please," Cedric said, "Where the bloody hell are we? Another trick?"
Hermione breathed, turned and watched the waves.
"He did it," Hermione said, "Found a way to save you, and took it."
"What'd you mean?" Cedric asked.
"Our time—you died," Hermione said, "In that graveyard."
Cedric's eyes on her.
"Serious?" Cedric asked.
"Been a couple of years," Hermione said, "Still haunts him."
"A redemption?" Cedric asked.
"Doubt you can go back," Hermione said, "Harry knows more."
"Didn't mean for…all those deaths," Harry said, his heels that dug into the sand as he came down. "But no, doubt you can, that universe—they always end in destruction."
"My father?" Cedric asked.
"The one who witnessed your corpse still lives," Harry said, "Or, at least has a heartbeat, he's dwelling there."
"I'd like to see him," Cedric said.
Harry's hands to Cedric's.
"Understand that you've been dead for two years," Harry said, "Might be best to go by a different name."
"I'm alive," Cedric said.
Harry hugged Cedric, the pat to the back.
"I know," Harry said, "Lets keep it that way, because there's people who…your survival will threaten. What'd your father always call you?"
"Ced," Cedric said.
"Ced…Delacour," Harry said, "Her memory."
Cedric turned around.
"Where are we?" Cedric asked.
"Beach…doesn't matter," Harry said, "Let your father catch you up, but let me break the ice with him." Harry turned for Hermione. "Keep… Ced under disillusion."
Cedric's eyes to Harry. Harry held both hands, the focus, the tightness as they disapparated.
…
Harry's feet hit the carpet in the blue foyer, the painting of Cedric to the right.
"Shh," Harry whispered.
Hermione's wand out, Cedric and herself faded into disillusion. Harry walked through the living room, to the light dining room. Around it, Amos Diggory held the tea cup, above The Daily Prophet.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Puddlemere United Bolsters Security
Puddlemere United has announced an increase in security to be implemented for their matches. Coach Darrell Meyers maintains that these measures are precautions in light of the current atmosphere, they are designed to make both the players and fans safe at every match. Precautions include searches of all incoming people, confiscation and storage of non–game necessary wands, and hired security patrols. Meyers would not confirm any rumors circulating about an eminent shakeup in their players.
"Mr. Potter," Amos Diggory said, the eyes that remained on the paper, the coldness to his voice.
"I have something of interest to you," Harry said, "Same way I know about my pending execution, I…promise not to advertise it to Voldemort, don't want him finding out."
"What?" Amos Diggory asked, the eyes that turned to Harry.
"I slipped into one of his experiments," Harry said, "I smuggled out…come on in."
Footsteps, and the shatter of the tea cup that Amos Diggory dropped, as Cedric entered.
"His experiences will be a bit different beginning my first year," Harry said, "And…he's skipped two years, he just left the final task last night."
"Dad," Cedric said.
Amos drew in Cedric, both hugged tight, the tears to Amos' cheeks.
"Keep this low," Harry said, "Don't even tell Dumbledore—you adopted some bum off the streets."
"Your Mum…" Amos started.
"Can you trust her?" Harry asked.
"Thank you," Amos said to Harry.
Harry turned, stopped by Hermione.
"I stand by my words years ago," Hermione said, "You're a great wizard."
"With your help," Harry said.
"Um…" Cedric said as he entered, "Thank you, I think."
"Two years—you've got a lot to catch up on," Harry said, "My Voldemort's risen again, so…read The Daily Prophet, talk to your father, and take your stand."
Cedric returned to the dining room. Sound of the tea kettle whistling. Hermione's arms wrapped around Harry, and the tightness of the disapparation came to them both.
Date:Wed Oct 9 06:49:12 2024