24th June 1995
Harry stared at his image in the bathroom mirror. He couldn't believe that it had only been a short few months before when he'd stood there ahead of the first task. In just under an hour he'd face the third task of the tournament and after…
He was dressed all in dragon-hide. He brushed a hand over the tight black jacket he wore over a thin long-sleeved t-shirt. They, along with the durable black trousers that encased his legs, added another layer of protection. Hard-wearing durable boots in a thicker dragon-hide completed the outfit. He wore the crests of the Houses of Potter and Black stamped in silver and gold thread, one on each upper arm. His gold-framed glasses had been charmed to repel water, stay clear and stay on; his hair was…well, it was its usual messy style but it was him. There was a thigh holster for his holly wand on his right leg; a knife was strapped to his left.
He felt bereft with only his wand and a knife but the rules stated the only magical item he was allowed was his wand. His invisibility cloak was laid out on his bed; he would call for it as soon as he could along with the Resurrection stone and the Elder wand. The Headmaster had demurred over the use of the wand, stating his preference for his own chosen wand.
Harry was ready.
Maybe.
Apart from the huge butterflies that seemed to have set up camp in his stomach.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he reopened his eyes, his father's reflection was in the mirror.
Sirius looked every inch the hit wizard he had been in the past war. His own clothing was similar to Harry's; dragon-hide long-sleeved t-shirt, trousers and boot. Where Harry wore a short jacket though, Sirius had opted for a long duster-style version which looked almost like robes. His dark hair was tied back with a strip of leather.
Harry held his father's silver gaze in the mirror as Sirius walked up behind him and placed his hands on Harry's shoulders. Harry was reminded of how James Potter had stood behind him in the same position in his dream the night before. He and Padfoot hadn't spoken about the dream. Sirius had asked him if it was James who'd been there and Harry had nodded; that had been it. But seeing the similarity between them; seeing how much they both loved him…
"I can see why you miss Dad so much." Harry blurted out.
Sirius smiled at him sadly. "He was the best."
"He loves you a lot." Harry said with certainty.
"I love him too." Sirius confirmed with a smile. He squeezed Harry's shoulders gently. "You ready, Pronglet?"
Sirius's confidence in him shone from his eyes and made Harry's heart almost want to burst with feeling.
"I'm ready." He said, and was surprised to realise he meant it.
"We're going to be with you as soon as we can." Sirius promised in a low voice. "You just keep yourself alive until then."
"I know." Harry said firmly. He turned and hugged Sirius hard. "You'll keep yourself safe."
Sirius dropped a kiss on the top of his head. "I promise."
Harry stayed where he was for a long moment; drinking up Sirius's love and affection for him as though it was a secret power – and it was, Harry mused. His love for Sirius was how he'd worked out what he had that Voldemort didn't; people who loved him; people he loved.
He eased back from the solid embrace.
They went down the stairs side by side only to both slow at the sight of a pacing Snape at the bottom.
The rest of their family, and most of the War Council, remained seated in the living area watching concerned.
Snape's head snapped up as he realised they were there and Harry felt a small nudge from Sirius to complete the journey.
"He's summoned me." Snape said as soon as they were down.
"We knew that was going to be likely." Sirius said cautiously.
Harry could understand his concern.
Snape's sallow face was pale and pinched; he looked fearful.
"He said he needs a Secret Keeper." Snape snapped out.
And Harry knew what Snape meant immediately. "He's going to put the cemetery under Fidelius."
Snape breathed in deeply and nodded, finally stilling. "I believe so."
Harry nodded briskly.
"Once I'm the Secret Keeper no doubt I'll be kept under lock and key, or right beside him so…" Snape began.
Sirius smiled, a dangerous humourless smile. "So we'll have to use one of the contingency plans for you to tell us, Snape."
Harry saw how Snape's shoulders went back and his chin went up as he remembered the contingency plans.
Snape gave a sharp nod.
"You'd best be going." Sirius said firmly. "Stay as safe as you can."
Snape nodded and whirled around to leave. He paused by the portrait door but didn't turn around. "Good luck, Potter."
"Professor." Harry acknowledged quietly.
And Snape was gone.
"Right." Harry said briskly. "We should get going or we're going to be late."
There was a flurry of hugs; of kisses.
Dora's eyes were bright as she wished him well with the task; Andy didn't speak, her eyes glistening with tears; Ted wasn't much better. The Grangers were stoic but their faces, white and lined with tension gave away their worry. Narcissa's eyes were clear but her hand shook as she cupped his cheek. Lucius gave only a nod.
Draco clasped his hand warmly. "I expect you to win, Cousin. Don't make a liar out of me."
Harry nodded.
There was Hermione left. She hugged him tightly. "Remember…" she whispered in his ear.
"Friendship, bravery and love." He whispered back at her.
They held hands as they walked out through the castle to the newly revealed maze.
Harry took comfort in Sirius walking to his left; his hand on his shoulder. Hermione was on his right; her hand held his tightly. The maze was surrounded by the usual Quidditch stands; with the seating so far up to watch the match in usual times, the audience had a good view of the maze below them, although just like with the lake the action below would be projected above.
The stands were packed. The rest of the school were crowded into the lower rows; ticket holders into the upper. Moody had been super vigilant over the tickets and Harry knew that within the crowd there were a number of undercover aurors and Unspeakables, ready and waiting for war. The Alliance were present; banners raised in support of Harry.
Bright balls of light suspended in the sky illuminated the whole maze as the sky was darkening from blue to grey.
Harry breathed in deeply. There was a heavy scent of vegetation; bright green leaves exuding the brash odour that filled the air. The hedges were high; high enough to dissuade the contestants from climbing over them. The vines and branches were thick; too thick to cut through, and Harry recognised that the type of hedge would be impervious to flame. The only way to win was to traverse the maze.
The platform at the entry of the maze came into view.
The Minister had taken his position. Dumbledore sat beside him along with Karkaroff's replacement, Professor von Humberg and Madame Maxime. Viktor was already on the platform; he'd chosen a similar outfit to Harry's. Fleur stood beside him in practical black robes that couldn't quite hide her beautiful form. Cedric had chosen open black robes edged with Hufflepuff yellow; the crest of Hogwarts proudly displayed on his chest.
Ludo Bagman grinned and put his thumbs up as he saw Harry approaching. "Ah, excellent. We can make a start."
Hermione sweetly kissed him, squeezed his hand and slipped away. He watched as Ron and Neville stepped out from the shadows of the stand to escort her.
Sirius grasped his shoulders. "I want you to remember that whatever happens tonight; you are my son and I love you, Pronglet."
"I love you too, Padfoot." Harry hugged him unashamedly. He stepped back at Bagman's unsubtle throat-clearing knowing he couldn't delay things any further. He nodded at Sirius just once.
Sirius nodded back and stepped away.
Harry took his place on the platform.
Bagman bounded up to the magical microphone someone had erected on the platform. "Ladies, Gentlemen, boys and girls!" He announced, his voice echoing around the stands. "Welcome to the last task of the Triwizard Tournament!"
The crowd roared.
Harry took a deep breath.
"The final task our Champions have to take on is simple!" Bagman declared cheerfully. "They need to enter the maze and find their own personal Goblet." He held up his hand and an illusion shot into the air revolving around the centre of the pitch above the maze. It clearly showed four gold cups each emblazoned with a different name. "Once the winner has found their Goblet, they and the other Champions will be transported to this platform and the maze will disintegrate! The winner will be presented with their prize…" he paused dramatically, "a thousand galleons and the real Champion's Cup!"
The air was filled with cheers, whistles and clapping.
Bagman hushed the crowd again. "Now as much as it pains me to say it, we do have a few rules to go through…"
The crowd groaned collectively.
Bagman laughed heartily.
Harry exchanged a bemused look with the rest of the Champions.
"Yes, yes, rules!" Bagman said loudly over the noise and surprisingly everyone settled again. "Firstly, there is a net of magic above the hedges which will not allow any travel over them or anything to enter. There will be three challenges within the maze for each of our Champions. They will face a trial by element, a trial of wit and a trial by creature. Different for each of them! Four elements! Four creatures! Four puzzles! They will face their fears! They will have to show bravery and cunning; wit and hard-work! Only when have they overcome these challenges will they find their cup!"
"Let's hope it's not another bloody dragon." Cedric muttered under his breath.
"I would be on the look-out for snakes." Harry murmured back.
"And now," Bagman paused dramatically, "now we are ready to BEGIN!"
Another loud cheer went up from the crowd.
Harry scanned the boxes and sought out first Sirius and then Hermione. They'd made it into the Champion's box and were watching him. He nodded at them and was grateful when Sirius gave a nod back, Hermione a small wave.
Bagman pointed his wand at the hedge. Four archways appeared. There was a stone pedestal beside each one with a statue; four statues for the four different Hogwarts' houses.
"As all the Champions received equal marks in the second task," Bagman announced, "the order is the same as after the first task: Lord Potter will choose his path first. After five minutes have elapsed, he will be followed by Mister Krum, then our own Mister Diggory, and finally the lovely Miss Delacour will take the last path left."
He turned away from the microphone to them and smiled widely. "Any questions before we start?"
"What if we get into trouble?" Cedric asked. "Are we able to request help?"
Bagman's cheery expression faded. "I'm afraid not, well, not until someone has won. As soon as you're on the platform, at that point the game's over and you're no longer competing; the Goblet won't consider it a break in your contract."
"Mon Dieu!" Fleur sighed heavily.
"You can say that again." Cedric said tersely.
Even Viktor looked grim.
Harry felt a twinge of guilt. He knew that the original parameters of the tournament probably held some kind of fail-safe arrangement – a way for the contestants to request help if the maze became too dangerous for them. Voldemort had removed the safety net and they would all have to prove their mettle.
"We were all chosen by the Goblet for a reason." Harry said, glancing round at his fellow Champions. "We survived the other two tasks and Voldemort's sabotage, we can survive this."
The other three straightened a touch with his words.
Viktor gave him a silent salute, Fleur nodded sharply and Cedric met his gaze determinedly before turning back to Bagman.
"We're ready."
Bagman attempted another smile but it fell away at the sight of four resolute expressions and he turned back to the microphone. "Lord Potter, you may begin!"
Harry turned and faced the hedge. He made his way over to the paths. The first was a badger and he walked past it leaving it for Cedric. The next with the eagle with its wings spread wide almost appealed but he knew the path wasn't for him regardless of his animagus form being a raven. That left him with the one he was paused in front of – the snake – or the lion which represented Gryffindor.
He smiled.
He'd made his choice once before sitting on a stool and the Sorting hat on his head.
Harry walked confidently to the last path; to the lion. He'd chosen Gryffindor once before and he'd choose it again. He stepped inside the maze.
o-O-o
Severus shivered as he stepped inside the ballroom of the old Riddle manor and repressed the urge to go for his wand.
The vampire leaders huddled in the far corner barely glanced in his direction as Severus slipped into the room. In the other corner, the dark shroud of a Dementor lurked.
Carrow, Travers and Crouch were already prostrated in front of the Dark Lord; they were wearing formal Death Eater robes, white masks affixed to their faces.
Pettigrew had also changed into the robes but his mask hung from his hands. He stood hovering next to the chair which held the decaying vessel of the Dark Lord. Nagini slinked in and out of the chair legs, hissing lowly.
"Come here, Severus." The Dark Lord beckoned him.
Severus walked over to him with a confidence he didn't feel. He shielded his mind tightly. He could afford no slips if he was to assist Potter. "My Lord." He prostrated himself and kissed the edge of the black robe. He kept his head down and his eyes lowered.
"Rise, Severus, and take your place at my side." The Dark Lord said.
Severus rose gracefully. He took the position indicated by the Dark Lord and waited.
The Dark Lord bade the others to their feet and they stood in line in front of him like the pawns they were.
Crouch's dark eyes glittered with hatred as they briefly met Severus's, but the wizard looked away before Severus could make any kind of reply.
"I have gathered you here today to finish what I started so many years before." The Dark Lord proclaimed arrogantly. "Tonight will see Lord Voldemort rise from the ashes and destroy those who would betray him; those who stand against him. I will use the boy whose parents once defeated me with arcane magic," he gestured at Pettigrew, "and my loyal servant, and I will reclaim a body of my own. The rest of you will go with my army to Hogwarts and lays waste to Dumbledore's foolish followers. We will join you when the Potter boy lies dead."
The others made murmurs of agreement.
Severus said nothing.
"Dear Severus, how is it at Hogwarts?" The Dark Lord said silkily.
"They run around like headless chickens, my Lord, preparing for the final task of the tournament." Severus said simply.
"How did Dumbledore and Black react to the news of my summoning you?" The Dark Lord asked.
Severus tilted his head, keeping his eyes lowered. "The Headmaster was concerned; Black was not."
"They do not treasure you as I." The Dark Lord said smoothly. "I do not wish to be disturbed at the cemetery; we will need to place it under the Fidelius, and you shall be our Secret Keeper." He continued.
"Your wish is my honour, my Lord." Severus said dutifully.
He was thankful when the Dark Lord turned back to the others.
"Bartemius," the Dark Lord ordered, "you will lead my forces at Hogwarts. You will take the castle from Dumbledore and see his life's work destroyed in front of his eyes."
"Yes, Father." Crouch bowed his head.
"Go." The Dark Lord decreed sternly. "It is almost time."
Crouch bowed his head again and gestured for Travers and Carrow to follow him. The vampires and Dementor slinked out with them.
Severus felt the temperature of the room rise without the Dementor's presence but he didn't relax.
"Kneel before me, Severus." The Dark Lord raised his wand as Severus took his place. He heard the words of the Fidelius charm and felt the rush of the Dark Lord's magic as it swept through him; he breathed in sharply as his Dark Mark rippled against his skin. He felt the secret launch into his mind and thinned his shield to allow it past his mental barriers.
Severus waited until his mental barriers were back in place before raising his head and giving a sharp nod to the Dark Lord. "It is done, my Lord."
"Yes." The Dark Lord smiled grotesquely. "The secret I have asked you to keep, Severus?"
"The cemetery at Little Hangleton can be found behind the church." Severus repeated quickly.
Pettigrew's confused face cleared into bright understanding. His eyes met Severus's briefly and Severus swore he could see the 'rather you than me' the rat had clearly thought as though it was written on Pettigrew's forehead.
"Excellent." The Dark Lord said brightly. "You will remain at my side, Severus, where you belong. Peter will gather what we need for the ritual and we will begin to make our way there immediately. I do not doubt that it will not take Potter long before he is within our grasp."
Severus frowned and fingered the mirror within his pocket. He had retrieved it on his way from the school. If there was an opportunity, any opportunity to give Black the secret, Severus would take it.
o-O-o
Barty glanced around the London flat with barely hidden disdain. He checked his pocket-watch; the vanishing cabinet would resume its form shortly and as soon as word came from his besotted spy…they would go through.
Half of the vampires had been sent ahead to the Forbidden Forest, to lie in wait there for the signal to attack. He'd sent Carrow with them, mainly because he couldn't stand the dirty foul-smelling cretin. He'd kept Travers with him and given him the personal mission to down Moody. Barty had a better target for himself; Sirius Black.
Once he'd killed the wizard, he didn't really care what happened. His plan had him taking out Black in a suicidal magic explosion that would wreck Hogwarts and destroy the Dark Lord's plan to use it as the base of his power, no matter what happened to Barty.
It seemed fitting to destroy everything on his way to Rab.
o-O-o
Sirius stared hard at the four viewing mirrors suspended over the maze. Harry had chosen Gryffindor and entered the maze a few moments before. So far the path had been free of any kind of challenge and Harry was proceeding slowly and with care.
"Breathe, Padfoot."
Remus soothing whisper did remind Sirius to take in a breath. He let it out slowly. He glanced around the box.
Hermione stood beside her parents, their arms around each other providing comfort. Andy and Ted stood close by, shielding them from the view of others. The Weasleys, with the exception of Bill who was already in position elsewhere, were also gathered closely together; a strong family unit despite the pallor of their skin underneath their freckles and shock of red hair. Neither Dora nor Narcissa were present. They had gone ahead to prepare Privet Drive with some of the coven. Neville and Augusta stood beside the Weasleys while Lucius and Draco stood apart from everyone else with Theo Nott and Blaise Zabini close to them; all their faces were pinched with tension.
Sirius glanced outside of their area towards the other sections; to where Fleur's little sister had her face hidden in her mother's embrace as her father glared at the maze. The Krum family huddled together in stoic support for their most famous son. Beyond them, Amos Diggory and his wife held each other's hands tightly; the Abbotts and a nervous Susan Bones hovered close by to provide them with support.
As though he'd felt his regard, Amos turned his head in Sirius's direction and gave a slow nod as their gazes met. Their politics didn't matter in that moment; only the truth that they were fathers and their sons were in danger.
Sirius gave a shaky nod back and returned his own eyes to the mirror where Harry continued through the maze.
Neville shifted beside Sirius. "Krum's entering the maze."
Krum had chosen Slytherin. It made sense as the Bulgarians had been sat with the Slytherins during their time in Hogwarts.
Sirius still didn't take his eyes off the mirror with his son. Harry was turning a corner and…
Dear Merlin.
"Is that a…" Remus managed to croak out.
Sirius swallowed hard against the lump of horror that was lodged in his own throat. "A Hydra." He nodded grimly. "Yes, it is."
o-O-o
Harry stared at the corridor of hedges in disbelief.
The ground was a swampy mess; sulphuric fumes rising up from bubbling ponds of mud. The hard mossy type grass covered rocky ground before descending into a large dip which was filled with the muddy form of the Hydra.
Harry immediately slapped a Bubblehead on. Hydras were poisonous creatures; their breath was toxic, their sweat, their blood.
Harry grimaced; no wonder he was facing one in the maze. He was grateful that the Alliance Research group had thoroughly studied any and all creatures that they'd thought might be used. Hydra had been a possibility.
The seven heads were sleeping.
It meant nothing, Harry knew. As soon as Harry attempted to sneak past they would be awake. He considered his options.
The tale of Hercules had the Hydra dying when Hercules had cut off one head with a sword gifted to him by Athena and his nephew burned the stump with fire. One of the heads was immortal and had to be buried alive when it was cut off.
Hermione had theorised that the sword and fire were both magical; that the Sword of Gryffindor would probably be just as good as the basilisk venom would probably do the same job as the fire in cauterizing the stumps before another set of heads could grow.
Harry reached down and retrieved his knife. He held it in one hand, his wand in the other. He took one step forward…
The heads rose in unison, swivelling to stare at him with wide amber eyes; the vertical reptilian iris narrowed in a thin line.
"Who daress approach uss?" The middle head spoke in a low voice, feminine almost.
Harry cocked his head as he realised he understood the creature. A Hydra was serpentine. Maybe he could talk with it parseltongue? He considered his options. He could try speaking with the creature first before killing it…
"Honoured Creature," Harry began, "I am a pawn in a game. I must get past you to proceed."
The Hydra's many eyes blinked. "Speaker."
"Yes." Harry confirmed.
The Hydra lurched upwards, staring at Harry as though perplexed. "We have been set to guard this place, Speaker."
Harry's heart sank.
"But I am bound to obey a Speaker." All seven faces frowned in unison. "It is a dilemma."
The furthest right head rose higher than the rest. "Guard."
His furthest left head rose to match the height of the other. "Obey."
The right's neighbour lowered its head. "Guard."
The left copied the right and hissed, "Obey."
Harry watched as the right head next to the centre pinned him with a forceful glare. "Guard."
"Obey." The left snapped out quickly.
The centre head rose and the others dropped down. "Guard or obey." It hissed. "We are divided." Its head tilted thoughtfully. "We will guard and if you defeat uss, we will obey."
And almost immediately one of the heads struck out towards him.
Harry leaped backwards and silently engorged the knife to the length of a sword, swinging it in the direction of the head. It sliced it cleanly from the neck. Harry didn't wait; he followed up immediately.
"Ignis flagellum!" His wand instantly sprouted a whip of fire and Harry wielded it with unerring accuracy at the bubbling, bleeding neck in front of him.
He barely avoided the strike of the next head, rolling on the ground to avoid it. He hefted his makeshift sword again; and whirling around followed it with the whip. The wound was cauterized before the second head hit the ground.
The third right head gave an angry hiss and reared back.
Harry panted for breath, adrenaline surging through him as he waited for the Hydra to make its next move.
The Hydra blinked and struck; two heads diving for Harry in unison.
He scrambled backwards until his back hit the hedge, he only just remembered to ensure his Bubblehead didn't make contact…
The heads were close…
So close…
Harry leaped to the side and used the whip of fire to divide the Hydra's heads from its body.
He eased to the side, almost at the edge of the pit, and the Hydra immediately countered his path. Three heads remained; one on either side of the Hydra's immortal middle head.
"I will spare you." Harry offered.
The two heads either side of the immortal one looked to each other and both struck out at him from both directions.
Harry went left; his sword moving into action almost without thought. He defended his right side with the whip, the crack of it forcing the striking Hydra head closest to it back a moment. It was just enough time for Harry to finish killing the left; the whip following the sword quickly.
He dived over the right head and slammed the sword through it; the whip once again used to prevent the head from regenerating.
The Hydra slithered back into the pit.
Harry tried to catch his breath. He was panting a touch with the exertion. "I will spare you." He offered again.
The Hydra glared at him from its place in the pit. "Why would I wanted to be sspared? You have left me all alone without my companionss…"
Harry sighed, went to rub his nose and only just stopped himself from knocking the Bubblehead he wore. "Neither you nor I are in this maze because of choice." He gestured at the hedges. "I don't want to kill you."
The Hydra considered his words for a long moment.
Harry felt his heart pounding in his chest.
The Hydra lowered its head. "You have defeated uss. We will obey, Sspeaker." It turned around, its back to Harry.
Harry moved quickly, sidling around the pit on the very narrow ledge that was available. He made sure to keep the Hydra in sight at all times. He didn't trust it. Once he was past, he still walked backwards until he turned the corner into an empty corridor. He quickly warded the turn with a creature trap that would suspend the Hydra in a ball of magic should it try and breech it.
With that done, he finally cancelled the Bubblehead and bent double, panting trying to catch his breath.
He took stock.
He was a touch winded and shaky from the surge of adrenaline but he was relatively unscathed. He had some bruises from rolling around the ground; a couple of scrapes over his hands but he was uninjured. He also had a knife which now had the poison of a Hydra magically imbued into its metal. He'd have to be careful how he handled the blade, but he knew it was an advantage.
He frowned, wondering whether Crouch had guessed which path Harry would take and had therefore set out tasks which were a challenge but played to Harry's strengths. After all, none of the other Champions could have spoken with the Hydra.
He shrugged the thought away. Whether Crouch was making it easier for him or not, he knew the dark wizard wouldn't mind Harry being maimed before being served up to Voldemort. He still had to focus; there were two trials remaining before he could find his cup.
o-O-o
The cemetery looked ominous in the gathering gloom as the daylight seeped away from the already grey and overcast sky.
Severus shivered. He cast a glance around. The ground was not well-maintained; grass had been allowed to grow to a substantial height around most of the stones. The main pathways were muddy trails that had few paving stones and were pitted with holes.
He set down the vast cauldron he had been levitating and waited for Pettigrew, the Dark Lord and the snake to catch him up.
"Where exactly are we to place this, my Lord?" Severus asked deferentially.
The Dark Lord gestured imperiously with a chubby infant hand. "Over there between the graves marked Riddle and Oberman."
Severus made no comment. He simply lifted the cauldron again and set it down as directed.
"Perfect." The Dark Lord praised. "We should take our positions. Potter will not arrive before it is fully dark." He conjured up a chair and Peter placed him on it reverentially.
Severus transfigured a nearby tree-stump into a bench. Peter sat on one end before Severus could say anything. Severus sniffed, gathered his robes and sat down stiffly at the other end. He resisted the urge to reach into his pocket and finger the mirror.
He had to be patient. If he acted too soon…
Nagini hissed and the Dark Lord responded. She slithered away into the grass.
"She is taking the opportunity to hunt." The Dark Lord informed almost proudly. "And while she goes to hunt her prey, we will await the arrival of ours."
Severus shivered again and stared out blindly into the cemetery. His only hope was that whatever plan Black and Potter had concocted would actually work because right at that moment, he couldn't see how any of them would survive.
o-O-o
Sybill Trelawney stumbled across the room to the cupboard by her desk. She always kept an emergency supply in that particular cupboard for medicinal purposes post lessons.
She flung her brightly coloured scarf back around her neck when it flopped forward and reached into the dark space. Her hand closed around the bottle and she gave a small shout of triumph.
She pulled out the bottle and regarded it with a frown.
It wasn't the expected bottle of Harvey's Bristol Cream but rather a bottle of Croft. Minerva had gifted it to her at Christmas.
Sybill sniffed. She really wasn't fond of the brand but it was all she had until she could get to The Three Broomsticks and replenish her supply.
"Dry!" Sybill muttered under her breath. "She knows I prefer a medium!" She staggered over to a bean-bag and sat down with a thump.
She unearthed her wand from her pocket and clumsy summoned a glass. It bounced on the rug in front of her. She picked it up and carefully poured a large measure of sherry. She set the bottle carefully down and took a large gulp.
Immediately her shoulders dropped with relief as the alcohol burned its way down her throat and warmed her.
Sybill took another sip. What a day it had been. The school was overridden with people because of the infernal tournament. Her Inner Eye had been restless all day. She knew, knew, something terrible was going to happen.
Probably to the Potter boy because didn't it always happen to the Potter boy and…her vision suddenly darkened…
"The one to vanquish the Dark Lord will face his fate. Born as the seventh month died; born to those who had thrice defied his enemy; born with the power the Dark Lord knows not for he is the Raven, Death's Champion. And at the end, he will face Death and choose. For one in the Light must die so the rest may live."
Sybill blinked and burped loudly. "Oh my!"
Her head was fuzzy. Had she said something? She shook herself and took another sip.
Terrible day, she thought darkly. Too many people trampling around the school. Too much excitement. No. She was pleased to be safely inside her tower and away from the tournament.
Behind her a small unicorn ornament glowed brightly and shifted, returning to its original shape as a vanishing cabinet.
o-O-o
"Fleur's finally in." Neville commented, fidgeting with his wand. His eyes were affixed to the four massive viewing mirrors suspended over the maze.
The Beauxbatons Champion was cautiously taking her first footsteps down the Ravenclaw path in one mirror. Cedric was also progressing cautiously down the Hufflepuff path. Their caution wasn't surprising as they had already witnessed Harry's first challenge before either of them had entered, Cedric beginning his path a few moments into Harry's fight with the Hydra.
"What is Krum doing?" asked Ted frowning.
Neville's gaze shifted from Harry's mirror to Krum's. Viktor was traversing the Slytherin path and had found his first challenge just as Cedric entered the maze. It was a deep pit as long and as wide as the maze corridor bar a small landing on the opposite end; the pit had been filled with magical vipers. A long ladder provided a way down into the pit but there was no way out.
"He's going to use the ladder to fashion a bridge over the pit." Hermione answered briskly. "It's quite clever."
It was too, Neville thought grimly, watching as the Bulgarian levitated the ladder into position and enlarged it to ensure it bridged the entire distance.
"Why doesn't he just vanish the snakes?" asked Andromeda.
"Magically resistant." Remus replied tersely. "He tried as soon as he got to the pit but it failed. They've been modified by someone."
Neville took a breath. Crouch was a sadistic bastard. He felt the weight of his grandmother's hand on his shoulder and leaned into her touch.
"Merlin, is that an Acromantula nest?!" Ron blurted out, pointing at Cedric's mirror.
Along from them, Diggory's mother gave a horrified cry and turned her face into her husband's shoulder.
Neville shuddered at the sight of the multiple webs spanning the corridor in front of Cedric, one vast spider sitting threateningly in the middle of the corridor surrounded by its webs.
"I can't watch." Ron said, turning away, visibly shaking.
Neville nodded. All the boys in the dorm knew of Ron's phobia. Cedric was dealing with the problem with a liberal use of the Incendio spell; the web catching aflame but it was slow to turn to ash. The Acromantula though was beginning to move to deal with the prey that had sneaked into its nest…Neville was suddenly glad Harry had decided to have deputies for the Hogwarts spell. If Cedric didn't survive the maze, at least Sue could step in.
"Harry's found the second challenge!" Hermione announced breathlessly. "Oh! It's the wit challenge!"
Neville's gaze immediately sought out Harry's mirror. It looked like Harry had come to a dead end but there was a raised pedestal in the centre of the space and clearly it had instructions written upon the stone because Harry was reading it intently…
o-O-o
"To discover the way ahead, solve this puzzle."
Harry traced the words and grimaced. Was it wrong that he wished it was another Hydra? He really hated riddles. At least Hermione and Luna had semi-prepared him with endless rounds of brain-twisters in the previous month. He heaved a heavy sigh.
"In front of you are three walls; one to your left, one to your right and straight ahead." Harry recited out loud. "One is crossbred with a poisonous plant called Venoma whose invisible thorns are imbued with a deadly toxin causing disintegration." He looked warily at all three hedges. "Nice."
He couldn't tell from the distant visual comparison whether there were any differences between the hedges.
"The second hedge is crossbred with a woody vine. Get too close and it will tie you up." Harry rubbed his head. So he was dealing with two killer plants and the third…
"The third hedge will allow you to pass through to the path if you can take the pain that it will shock you with at the attempt."
Harry frowned. All three hedges were dangerous then even if one of them allowed him to progress. He bit his lip and continued reading.
"If you don't want to be left behind, the right path may be painful but ahead of you is death." Harry concluded. "Choose carefully."
He tapped the stone thoughtfully.
"Left behind…the left is the one with the vines. If you get caught, you're left behind all tied-up." Harry murmured to himself. His head swivelled to the front. "Ahead is death so that must be the one with the poison while the right is the one that's painful so that's the one that will let me progress."
Or that's what Crouch wanted him to think.
Harry pointed his wand at the ground. "Serpensortia!" The snake appeared instantly. Harry sent it off to the left path. Another few seconds later and two more snakes were dispatched on test runs.
The first snake slithered up to the left and disappeared into the hedge. There was no violent reaction from the hedge at all.
Harry carefully watched as the second snake almost reached the path ahead – suddenly vines shot out and wrapped around the snake, yanking it from the grass and into the hedge. He wiped his brow and turned to the last snake. It approached the right path but as soon as it touched the hedge it gave a hiss, rising up in startled anger before disintegrating into a puddle of blood.
Well.
Clearly Crouch wasn't too bothered if Harry died. Or maybe what was written wasn't actually the answer to choosing the way forward. Or maybe it was all too clever - the left path was the one where the snake had disappeared so clearly it was the right path. So if the left path was actually the right path, ahead was actually behind Harry and that way was death – it was the Hydra. Which meant that the right path was painful because it was imbued with the Venoma.
Harry stepped off to the left. He regarded the hedge with trepidation, took a deep breath and walked forward.
It was almost like stepping through the barrier at King's Cross combined with being electrocuted.
Pins and needles attacked his skin ferociously, viciously, making him feel like he was being burned and just when it became unbearable, when the wordless cry screamed in his breast to be heard…he was through.
He stumbled and landed heavily on the ground. He instantly rolled and got to his feet, wand and knife in his hands.
The dark maze corridor stretched out in front of him.
Harry glanced at the corpse of the snake to the side. It had been unable to take the pain. He checked his hands, trembling a touch as he did so. He was untouched but everything stung. The scrapes from his encounter with the Hydra were aching badly; it was though someone had dumped ammonia into the wounds. He felt sore and achy; drained. His legs felt shaky.
It was what Crouch wanted; what Voldemort wanted; Harry knew that. They wanted him delivered weak and vulnerable.
His jaw tightened as his lips firmed into a tight thin line. It had hurt but physically he wasn't bleeding to death or maimed.
Harry refused to let them beat him.
He dredged deep and with a will of iron, continued down the corridor.
o-O-o
Peter glanced across the bench at the stern visage of his former childhood nemesis and swallowed the urge to laugh hysterically at the realisation he sat waiting with Snape. He doubted the Dark Lord would appreciate him getting a fit of the giggles. Instead, he yanked his gaze away from Snape and looked nervously around the cemetery.
It was cold despite the time of year. Dank and dismal with a drizzle of rain falling almost invisibly through the sky. Not that they were getting wet. The Dark Lord had immediately ordered Snape to cast a spell to divert the rain around their area and they remained dry, if not warm.
The Dark Lord was quiet. He waited on his perch like a stone statue. It was clear that the vessel he inhabited was at its end. The skin looked dead; grey and papery; lesions oozing with pus. Its hair was gone bar one or two strands that clung onto its scalp. The eyes were sunken; the lips non-existent. The body stank of decay.
Peter reviewed the ritual again in his head.
Snape would be responsible for performing the ritual. It was something of a relief for Peter because the idea of being responsible for ensuring the safe resurrection of the Dark Lord terrified him. It had been a happy day when the Dark Lord had declared Snape would brew the potion. If it had been left in his hands…well, he wasn't bad with potions – the Marauders had all had skills apart from Remus who could melt a cauldron just by being near it – but he wasn't that good. No doubt he'd have gotten something wrong and instead of something human, it would have been something less that would have been created instead. The image of a naked snake-like Dark Lord emerging from the cauldron flitted through his mind and Peter had to repress the urge to giggle again.
Peter clenched his fist. The ritual called for him to willingly cut off his own hand. The Dark Lord had promised him a prosthetic – a silver version of his hand that would be stronger and better than his own. Peter grimaced. He really didn't want to lose his hand but he had vowed to be the Dark Lord's willing servant and he would play his part.
Besides, Peter thought determinedly, his flesh would rebuild the Dark Lord. He would effectively become a parent to the form that the Dark Lord would take. It was an honour. And perhaps the Dark Lord would look more favourably upon him afterwards. Perhaps Peter would be rewarded over and above the new hand.
Peter started as Snape cast a tempus into the sky. The sun was beginning to set.
"It is time we made preparations, my Lord." Snape said quietly. "The task will have started."
"Ready the cauldron and potion, Severus," the Dark Lord instructed, "Peter will see to my needs."
Peter hid a moue of distaste. One last time, he reminded himself; it would be one last time of changing soiled nappies and clothing; one last time of feeding the Dark Lord by hand. By the end of the night the Dark Lord would walk among them in his own adult form again and Peter's role as caretaker would be over.
But not his role as servant, Peter mused as he hurried to take care of the Dark Lord. He would always be the Dark Lord's servant.
Unless Harry won.
Peter shook his head of the traitorous thought. The Dark Lord would rise and Peter would be by his side. He'd made his choice. Of course, Peter thought, as he ignored the low hiss of the Dark Lord's snake behind him, if the Dark Lord was restored, and if it looked like Harry would win…then there was nothing stopping Peter from making another choice. After all, once the Dark Lord had a body, Peter would no longer need to be his servant.
But until then…until then he was the Dark Lord's willing servant.
o-O-o
There was a moment of regret.
One.
The look on her best friend's face when she'd realised, when she'd understood what was happening. That look of betrayal and horror…it had poked at something inside of her. The part of her who was a best friend; who'd spent years playing with the other girl loyally beside her; who'd listened to her dreams and commiserated when things had gone wrong.
Years of friendship…all destroyed in the moment when she'd turned her wand on her best friend.
She grimaced.
Barty was going to be so angry with her but she just couldn't kill her best friend. She'd settled for stunning her, wrapping her in ropes and locking her into a closet where she'd be safe from the coming fight. She'd even cast the spell that would hide her from the map the others would use; the same spell she had cast on herself; the one Barty had taught her.
There had to be a chance to change her mind and bring her over to the right side once they'd won. Hadn't she thought the same nonsense for years? How Dumbledore was a great wizard? How the Light side was always in the right? Hadn't she wanted to run and inform Dumbledore, her parents, everybody when she'd realised who had been leaving her the love notes in her bag?
But she hadn't. She still didn't know why.
She had met with Barty and realised the truth that he was right; that Sirius Black had subjugated the magical world; had influenced Harry into believing that Barty was evil when he wasn't, he wasn't. He was sweet and kind and mourning his first love.
She would be his last.
The memory of their love-making the previous night flitted through her head; how tenderly Barty had touched her; how lovingly he'd taken her. Her fingers touched her lips remembering the gentle kisses he'd bestowed upon her.
It had been so risky meeting up with him at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He was a wanted man, unfairly and unjustly because of Black. And he had the machinations of the Dark Lord to deal with too. He'd been unfairly punished for rightly protecting the Dark Lord's interests but he had finally returned from the awful trip and he had wanted to meet with her; wanted to make love with her too much to resist the temptation of meeting up.
She shook her head and checked the time. She needed to hurry. She made her way swiftly through the castle to the ladder that would take her into the Divination classroom. She pushed open the hatch and looked around cautiously. Her nose wrinkled at the heavy scent of incense, perfume and sherry.
Trelawney sat nearby her back to the hatch and the newly visible vanishing cabinet. The Divination Professor was oblivious as she drank back more alcohol and mumbled something about too many people.
She aimed her wand and fired.
The spell hit Trelawney with enough force to send her flying forward; she hit the floor in a sprawling mess of scarves, unconscious.
Another spell saw the hapless teacher bound in rope.
She grimaced at Trelawney. She never had liked the woman. She moved to the window and breathed out a sigh of relief at the sight of the mirrors. As soon as Harry took the cup…as soon as he took the cup she'd open the vanishing cabinet.
Soon Hogwarts would be theirs, and the wizarding world…
o-O-o
Hermione took another deep breath as she watched Cedric finally slay the Acromantula he'd been fighting. He'd taken a bad gash to his leg, presumably infected with the venom of the spider, and he was clearly lame as he staggered down the maze corridor.
"Thank, Merlin." Amos said softly, his voice carrying over to them as Cedric stopped and performed a healing spell that would cauterize the wound and burn away the venom before continuing.
In the mirror beside him, Fleur sat by a pit of water which she had come across, complete with multiple Giant Squids, and continued to transfigure grass into planks of wood for her raft. It was a slow, time-consuming task and Hermione figured it was deliberate. Fleur knew she was last into the maze and as long as she remained alive and attempting the task she would survive as one of the boys was bound to win the cup. Hermione admired her tactics.
Viktor was tackling his wit challenge; the Greek alphabet laid out in stepping stones over what appeared to be quicksand. If he stepped on the wrong stone he'd be dropped into the mire. There was a determination about him though and Hermione believed that Viktor wanted to win; his competitive spirit wouldn't allow anything else.
The Krums were silent but Hermione had noticed that their eyes had never strayed once from their son.
She finally let herself watch Harry again. She was relieved he was still walking through the maze. He still had the third challenge to overcome but until then he was safe.
Hermione shivered and didn't protest when her mother placed an arm around her and rubbed her briskly. She leaned into the maternal comfort.
It seemed surreal that they were just watching and waiting for Harry to be kidnapped. She couldn't help but think that there had to have been another way.
But…
She had seen Sirius try everything to get to Voldemort and fail.
She knew letting Harry be kidnapped was their best hope to ambush the self-proclaimed Dark Lord. She just wished it wasn't Harry.
Prophecies.
She hated the idea that Harry had been targeted because of a prophecy from a woman she considered a fraud. Yet she couldn't deny that it was in motion; had been in motion from the moment Voldemort had chosen to believe it.
More unfair was the halting story Harry had told her, Ron and Neville earlier that week. The story of the Peverells and Death; of Death's Champion and his Grim. None of it seemed real to Hermione; none of it.
Yet she couldn't deny the reality of Harry's situation; the tournament and Voldemort's pursuit of him.
And she wouldn't shirk her place beside Harry for the world.
She would stand beside him and watch him stamp Voldemort into dust. She touched the leather strap around her neck with the rune of protection. Harry had given her his Christmas present for safe-keeping; he hadn't been able to wear it as it was designated a magical item. But that was alright; she would wear it for him when she stood in the centre of the coven and blessed him with the protection of the House of Black; when she and the others would turn Voldemort's thievery of Harry's blood against him.
"Cedric's slowed down a lot." Neville muttered beside her.
"He's feeling the poison from the spider." Hermione said quietly. "Even though he's cleaned the wound, some of it had to have seeped into his blood already."
Neville's gaze flickered to the Diggorys and Hermione followed his gaze. Cedric's parents looked incredibly worried. Leonard Abbott had stepped forward to place a hand on his friend's shoulder and his wife similarly had an arm around Cedric's mother.
Hermione frowned. "Where's Hannah and Susan?"
Neville shrugged as though unconcerned but his eyes gleamed with worry. "They left a while ago. I don't think Sue could take watching Ced."
Hermione bit her lip but before she could say anything, the sudden murmur from the crowd had her eyes flashing back to the mirrors. Her heart leapt into her throat…
Harry had found his third challenge.
o-O-o
The chasm in front of Harry seemed endless.
Turning the corner into what he thought might be another dead end, he had only just stopped himself from falling off the narrow ledge that was all that was left on his side. The vast empty space was shocking.
Magical space, Harry considered with a touch of exasperation.
Of course the maze couldn't just be a maze. The ground was a long way down and while Harry could believe it wasn't quite the distance of a skyscraper – it was probably some kind of illusion after all – he could believe that he would fall a fair distance if he fell.
Clearly the goal was to get to the other side. He guessed he could change into Snitch and fly across but he wasn't sure that was a good idea. He'd faced the wit challenge and the creature so the chasm had to be the elemental challenge. He doubted whether it was going to be as easy as flying from one side to the other. He suspected that as soon as he was in the air something would emerge to try and kill him.
He needed to have his wand available which meant he couldn't be Snitch. But how else was he meant to get across? A glint of something to his left caught his eye; he turned and found a broomstick propped up against the fence.
Right.
He felt a little chagrined at not spotting it immediately. He felt tired though. The trip through the hedge had weakened him; his body still trembled and ached.
Harry pushed away the weakness and squared his shoulders. He waved his wand at the broomstick performing a series of diagnostics.
The broomstick was just a broomstick. No hidden curses or enchantments. It was a decent Cleansweep; not as good as his Firebolt or his latest Christmas present but it was sturdy and in good condition.
Harry sheathed his knife and took hold of the broomstick. He paused on the edge of the chasm and looked out to the other side.
He could just make out the hint of a platform. He took a deep breath and launched himself into the abyss.
The broomstick responded beautifully and he zipped along for the first minute without anything occurring. He lowered himself and pushed the broomstick to go faster.
Maybe he could get there before anything…
A tower of water shot up from the ground directly in front of him.
Harry's heartrate accelerated; his breath caught in his throat as he smoothly diverted the broom to the left…
Another tower shot up…
He went right.
And another…
He was clearly being targeted. He lowered his body to the broomstick and hung on grimly.
He dodged and weaved through the gauntlet.
Right, then right again, then left, then right…
His hair and face grew damp from the spray of water, his hands slick on the wood, but he pushed on…
Left, left and…
He pushed the broom almost vertically upward as the next tower shot up right in front of him. He managed to get over the top of it but could feel the edge of the ward at the top of the maze graze his head before he zoomed back down into the maelstrom.
There was a wind on his back now; his body was synched with the broom…he accelerated into the dive and straightened out just in time to evade the next tower…
Right, left…
The platform was almost in front of him…
Left, right and…
He put his hand out and whispered a spell, grateful for all the training he'd done…
The wall of water in front of him cleaved into two, parting to let him through…
He shot through the opening, barely aware that the two sides of water crashed back into each other with a thunderous clap in his wake.
He brought the broomstick to a screeching halt above the small square of maze left, a wooden stand in the centre with a single cup upon it. He dismounted, wincing at the way his muscles had stiffened. As soon as his feet hit the ground, the chasm behind him flickered and disappeared, another hedge appearing to block the way.
There was no other exit; no other way forward. Just a square of ground surrounded by the green hedges with the only way out the cup that sat there innocently on its wooden plinth waiting for Harry to take it.
Harry disillusioned his knife and un-holstered his wand. His jaw tightened as his chin lifted. He knew with a bone deep certainty that the cup would take him to Voldemort. Crouch was too good not to have rigged it somehow no matter the checks Moody had done.
Harry closed his eyes briefly.
He wasn't alone.
He had Sirius.
And Remus. And Hermione and Ron…Neville and his friends…the House of Black and the Potter alliance…
He wasn't alone.
He had to hang onto that.
Harry opened his eyes.
It was time to meet his destiny.
o-O-o
The rain stopped abruptly.
Thomas fingered the plain white cotton robe he wore. It would disintegrate in the cauldron, in the heat of the potion as he was made anew.
He breathed in deeply.
The air tasted of the rain; new and clean.
It was time for his rebirth to begin.
o-O-o
The mirror had expanded over the length of the Quidditch pitch, beaming the image of Harry Potter winning the TriWizard Tournament to all the spectators and one cackling witch watching from the window of the Divination classroom.
She almost jumped up and down with glee as Harry stood in front of the cup which would whisk him away to his fate.
A low moan from the Divination Professor behind her was ignored as she whirled away and skipped over to the vanishing cabinet.
It was time to open the door.
o-O-o
Sirius felt his heart leap and lodge into his throat.
Harry was reaching for the cup.
He wanted to yell for him to stop, not to do it, not to take it…prophecy be damned.
He didn't want Harry hurt or scared or…
Sirius's hands curled into fists as his son opened his eyes.
Even with the horrible quality of the mirror, they gleamed brightly with determination.
Sirius took a breath.
Harry would survive the night. He'd live to be old and grey and to give Sirius a Quidditch team of grandchildren…
He believed it.
He believed it because he believed in Harry.
It was time to end the threat to Harry's future once and for all.
o-O-o
Harry reached for the cup.
His fingers clasped the handle and for a moment it was as though time froze.
The air stilled around him.
Silence fell.
His heart beat loud; his breath rasped through his lungs…
And the portkey yanked him off his feet, a shock of a stunning spell charged through his body, and the pain sent him spinning into darkness.