Spring arrived slowly, manifesting most days as the occasional warm ray of sunlight amidst melting snow. Early March didn't see many sun-filled days but one of the few saw an argument brewing between Harry's two closest friends. He hung back slightly from their disagreement, unable to shake the feeling that he was somehow responsible.
"It's none of your business whom I choose to talk to, Ronald!" Hermione said, one finger pointed at him for emphasis. "There isn't a single reason for you to be upset. Besides, you would have spent the whole time gaping like an idiot, just like at the World Cup. Why would you even want to meet with her?"
"I wanted…" Ron trailed off, his mouth working as he chewed on his words. Contemplative blue eyes flitted towards Harry before returning to Hermione. "I dunno. I'll see you guys in class."
He broke away at a trot, disappearing around the corner to the Charms hall.
"Honestly. Throwing a fit just because he wants to be close to a pretty girl." Hermione's hair bobbed as she shook her head.
Harry kept his mouth shut.
They neared the corner, rounding the suit of armor that Professor Flitwick often charmed with whatever spell they were to study that day. It waved to them as they passed then lifted its helm in greeting to Hermione, who stared wide-eyed.
"Animation charms! Oh, I've been trying to get the hang of those since our first year. Can you imagine how useful it'd be to-"
"Potter!" The gravelly shout made him jump and he whirled to find Professor Moody hobbling towards them. "Spare a moment?"
"Yes, sir."
Hermione stopped alongside Harry, darting glances to the suit of armor as it greeted Moody.
"Get going, Miss Granger. He'll be along shortly."
Hermione jumped, colored, then fled, leaving a quick, "I'll save you a seat," in her wake.
Moody gestured to a nearby classroom and led Harry inside. He closed the door behind them with a wave of his staff and regarded Harry, his magical eye twirling in its socket.
"Your godfather and I think you should be under surveillance."
Harry gaped.
"You know about him?"
"Knew him before too. He's a good man. He and Dumbledore insisted we get your permission before sticking you with a tracking charm. If it was up to me, I'd have done it anyway but I was outvoted." His scarred cheeks lifted into a toothy smile. "Maybe I already did."
Harry blinked, checking his robes out of instinct before he realized how futile such an action was. "Did you…sir?"
Moody chuckled and shook his head. "Not yet, but I probably will if you say no, so you might as well agree."
"Why do I need a tracking charm?"
"The Third Task is a maze," Moody said, jabbing a gnarled thumb over his shoulder to a window that overlooked the Quidditch pitch. "We haven't made much headway on why your name was stuck into that cup, but we're positive it's nothing good." His rolling eye slowed, coming to a stop on Harry, who swallowed. "If I were trying to get you, I'd do it when you're out of sight and hard to get."
"I-"
"You'll also be doing some extra lessons with me," Moody continued, heedless of Harry's attempted reply. "We'll be meeting three times a week after dinner, and you'd better come prepared. I've got a lot of tools that'll help keep you alive but we don't have much time to master them."
Harry nodded, his apprehension stalling against the vision of fearful blue and floating silver hair. If he'd been better…
"Yes, sir," he said, staring back into the eerie protuberant eye. He felt awkward and small beneath the grizzled gaze but his answer split Moody's features into a wide, excited smile.
"We'll get along just fine, Potter. See you tonight."
XxX
"For bloody…Stop!" Moody's shout echoed in the large lecture hall, a classroom double the size of the standard rooms, and almost half again as tall.
Small stone plinths were arrayed in a circle, transfigured up to chest height. Harry let his arm drop, sweat dotting his brow.
"What on earth was that, Potter?"
"The…er…the stunning spell, sir?"
Moody grumbled as he approached the center of the circle where Harry stood.
"Barely. But that's not what I meant. Watch me."
He lifted his right hand up to the top of his staff and slid his wand from a recess where it usually rested. With a deft flick of his fingers, he withdrew a thick, dark wand with a bulb at the hilt-end. He turned to face four of the targets and lifted his arm. In a blur of motion and muttering, four bright streaks of red sailed through the room, splattering against the unyielding stone.
"What did you see?" Moody's question carried the unsubtle subtext of warning.
Harry thought for a moment, not wanting to anger his tutor with glib obvious answers. "Your hand moved really fast. The spells were…really bright?"
"And what did you hear?"
"I heard you saying the spells-" Harry paused, Moody's frown pressing him on. "Er…quietly?"
"Very good, Potter," Moody said, his frown retreating. "Now, can you tell me why you saw and heard those things?"
Harry pondered his answer for longer this time, considering his own dismal performance earlier as well. "You were able to cast the spells faster because your arm was faster," he finally said. "And you said the spells quickly. That meant you could do all four in the time it'd take me to do two." He hesitated. "Your spells were brighter because you're older?"
"Good guess," Moody said, nodding. "Yes and no to that last one. We'll talk about that later. For now, you're mostly right." He put his arm out and traced the air with his wand in consecutive motions. "When you were casting the spell, you would shift, point your wand at the target, then cast the spell."
A jet of red light burst from his wand as he demonstrated the way Harry had done it, then cast another with the same method.
"Most students do it this way, as this is how you are taught. Stand still, point your wand, perform the motion, intone clearly, and focus. This is good for learning but inefficient for battle."
"Battle?" Harry choked out.
"After a fashion," Moody replied with a short laugh. "I expect there will be plenty of nasty things in that maze waiting for you. You will find yourself a more effective duelist and caster if you can blend your motions. This is more difficult with the more complex wand motions, but with the stunner, you can cast at the top and bottom of each strike."
He sliced his wand through the air in the standard motion, then back down. At the apex of each, a spell burst from his wand with a muttered, " Stupefy ."
Harry mimicked the motion, whispering the word with each shift in direction. His body fell willingly into the rhythm of it.
Moody nodded approvingly. "The reason you heard me say it the way I did was twofold. I said it fast, so I could cast another, sooner. I said it quietly so my opponent doesn't have any warning as to what's about to knock them on their arse."
Harry nodded and turned to face four of his own targets. He repeated the motion once more in the air, then began in earnest. Three red spells flew through the air to impact near their stone targets. The fourth never came, as Harry was so shocked the first three worked that he faltered, the last, " Stupefy ," failed to come out.
"Well done!" Moody said, clapping a rough hand down on Harry's shoulder. Harry tensed, then slid out from under the hand with the guise of turning to face his teacher. "I'm sure you've noticed it's much harder to aim that way, but that's something we can work on. Good work. You know how to listen. A valuable skill among recruits."
Harry nodded, doing his best to ignore the warmth in his ears. An odd sensation bubbled inside him, something akin to how he felt clutching the snitch in a gloved hand.
"Quit gawking," Moody barked, sliding his wand back into his staff. "Get back to it. If you pick everything up at this rate, we might get to a few of the more advanced spells."
XxX
Harry returned to Gryffindor tower, his arm a lead weight against his side. He found Hermione and Ron waiting for him in the crowded common room. They sat at one of the work-tables, parchment and textbooks arrayed in front of them. The small clay figures for practicing their animation charms lay on the table, Hermione's twitching feebly. Ron noticed him approaching and brightened, clearly happy for any distraction.
"How was it? Was he mental? Did you cast an unforgivable? I bet he'd start with the Imperius, since you beat it and all."
"I don't think Professor Moody would have Harry perform the Unforgivables," Hermione said, shutting her book with slightly more force than necessary. "That's a bit much, even for him."
"We just…worked on the stunner," Harry said with an apologetic shrug. "Well, on how to cast it a lot faster."
"Is he going to teach you how to do it nonverbally?" Ron asked. His question drew Hermione's attention, who focused her curiosity on Harry.
"Maybe? I don't think so. He said we've got a lot of spells to get through, so I doubt we'll spend much time on one in particular." He dropped into one of the empty chairs at the table, rubbing his shoulder.
"Did it go well?" Hermione asked.
"I think so," Harry said, wincing as his muscle rolled beneath his fingers. "I'm sure he's had way better but he didn't yell or anything. Well…he didn't yell because he was angry, anyway. He can be…extreme."
"That's a strange way to say he's off his rocker," Ron said with a laugh.
"Crazy or not," Hermione said with a small smile. "It's a good thing you're getting some extra practice before the Third Task."
"No kidding," Harry said, flexing his fingers. "I'm going to head up to bed. Waving your wand around for a couple of hours is pretty tiring."
"I'll come with," Ron said, grabbing his things from the table before Hermione could object.
"Honestly," she grumbled as Ron took off towards the stairs. "You'd think he doesn't care about magic at all the way he avoids practicing it." She turned a much kinder expression up to Harry. "Don't forget your regular schoolwork too. I'll help you where I can, but I can only do so much."
"Thanks, Hermione," he said, offering her an exhausted smile. "I'll see you in the morning."
He climbed the stairs and stepped into his dorm. Neville and Seamus were already sound asleep, and Ron was pulling his threadbare pajama shirt down over his head.
"Training with one of the greatest Aurors of all time," Ron said, quiet enough to not wake the others. "That's mental."
"He really seems like he knows what he's doing," Harry said, dropping down onto the side of his bed to take off his shoes. "I can try to show you and Hermione sometime, but I'm pretty rubbish right now."
Ron let out a laugh. "Moody probably thinks everyone is rubbish compared to him. Dad used to say that he could turn the tide of a battle just by showing up. The only other one who could do that was Dumbledore."
Harry grunted as he pulled his shirt off, his shoulder protesting the movement. "I'll bet lessons with Dumbledore would be a little less…shouty."
"Can you imagine?" Ron asked, laying down as he spoke. "Dumbledore shouting all the time like Moody does?"
"That's mental."
Ron let out an agreeable grunt, turned over, and was soon fast asleep.
Harry finished changing and slid beneath the covers, grateful for the warmth they offered. His efforts earlier in the day made his eyes heavy, and let his mind wander.
His last thoughts as he slipped into the world of dreams were of the final Task. Of being lost in a maze with Moody's commands echoing overhead like thunder, and of a beautiful girl with silver hair and a long orange ribbon, its edges tinted a soft purple.
XxX
Harry narrowed his eyes at the stone targets as they began their sporadic flight around the ceiling of the empty classroom. Moody's training had been tough, and he spent the final days before the Third Task exhausted. The first month was the hardest, until his body finally got used to the increased workload. Hermione had made good on her offer to help Harry with his schoolwork, while Ron made an effort to diligently copy Hermione's notes twice, even if his handwriting was a little illegible at times.
Neither of his friends had been thrilled about his new schedule, but there was no denying that Harry would need all the help he could get. Fleur, in a similar vein, had sent Harry a letter, apologizing for what was going to be a period of near-constant unavailability. After the Second Task, she wasn't about to leave herself in such a vulnerable position again.
"Go!" Moody shouted, jarring Harry from his thoughts and spurring his wand into motion.
With each pivot of his wand either a stunner or reductor spewed forth, dropping the target to the ground or reducing it to rubble. He spun to face the ones behind him, an errant stunner splashing uselessly against the ceiling when he misjudged his footing and slipped before coming to a stop. He gritted his teeth and pushed himself to move faster. The final stone targets dropped moments later.
His next task was the one he had been dreading. Moody stepped forward and pulled his wand from his staff, the dark wood held in his right hand.
"Ready?"
Harry nodded, gripped his wand tight, and held it out in front of him. He closed his eyes and focused, picturing a wall between him and Moody.
" Protego ."
He opened his eyes to find a shimmering translucent surface spreading from the tip of his wand. It was faster than it had been before, and he watched as it spread to stand between him and his instructor.
"Here it comes." A weak red light streaked across the room and punctured his shield with a crack. It impacted his chest, sending him falling back against the floor. He landed in a painful heap in an attempt to keep his head from hitting the stone again. His body reacted sluggishly through the grogginess of the underpowered stunning spell.
"So," Moody said, thumping forward with a click of both staff and wooden leg. "You can nearly master combining the stunner and reductor in a decent enough volley and miss only a single shot, but you have trouble with the most basic of shield spells? You care to explain that one to me?"
Harry cast his eyes down to the floor, ears burning. The shield spell had been one of the failures during his time with the eccentric professor. He wasn't looking forward to watching another pale red spell shred his pathetic shield, no matter how he envisioned protecting himself.
"I've been thinking about this," Moody said, drumming his fingers on the edge of his staff. "The way you're usually meant to do it is to go smaller. That's the way it's taught here. Turn a thimble into a tack before you turn a shoe into a bird." Harry simply nodded. "But we've done that, and it hasn't worked. So!" Moody punctuated the word with a crack of his staff on the ground, making Harry jump. "We'll do the opposite."
"The opposite, Sir?"
"It's about intent, Potter. Since it's not working small, we'll go as big as possible. So tell me, Potter. How many people do you want to protect with that shield of yours?"
"As many as I can, Sir," he answered, frowning. It had been thoughts of the Second Task that had carried him to all his extra practices. His recent recounting of the Chamber of Secrets had been no small boost in its own right.
"All or nothing, huh? You'd make a good Auror, I think." In a grandiose gesture, he waved his staff through the air, and the classroom door flung open to bang against the wall. "Come in!" he bellowed.
Ron and Hermione stepped through the door, sheepish smiles crossing their faces. They approached, stopping to either side of Harry, who goggled at them.
"What are you two doing here?" he asked.
"We wanted to help, mate," Ron said with a shrug.
"We asked Professor Moody if there was anything we could do, and he asked us to come tonight, just in case."
"Help with what?"
Fear bloomed inside him. A Professor wouldn't hurt his students. He knew that.
A bruised side and a trip to the infirmary for a concussion the week before reminded him otherwise. He glanced at Hermione who stared resolutely back at him. He blinked.
A brown halo, floating around serene pallid features.
He shook his head.
"I don't know, Professor," he said with a passable attempt to keep his voice from shaking. "I haven't stopped a spell even once."
"It's called incentive, Potter!" Moody said over Ron's quiet groan. "You'd best get to figuring it out." He clomped back across the room and turned, his wand held aloft. "Are you going to protect them or not, Potter? Focus!"
Harry nodded, forcing his nagging fears down. Ron and Hermione had been in danger plenty of times, and he hadn't been able to protect them then. Hermione had been petrified. Fleur had drowned.
He wouldn't let it happen again. Even for a simple stunner.
" Protego. " He thrust his wand forward, eyes open and focused on the threat ahead of him.
Another shimmering wall burst from the tip of his wand. It spread to the floor and crawled along like liquid glass, expanding to encompass Ron and Hermione. It continued to grow, the top climbing to the ceiling. When it finally stopped, it had bisected the room.
"Ruddy hell, Harry," Ron muttered.
"Excellent!" Moody bellowed from across the room. A single bright red spell shot from his wand, sailing through the air to impact uselessly against Harry's shield. Moody laughed, and his arm became a blur of motion. Blazing stunners flashed through the air, spilling from Moody's wand with each pivot. "You have to feel how the spell is molded," he shouted, continuing his barrage. "Your enemies won't wait for your spell to make its merry way across the battlefield!"
The spellfire came to a stop and Harry let his wand drop and the shield vanish.
Moody approached with a toothy smile that was twisted by scars, and genuine. "The more you practice and feel it, the faster it'll get."
It was advice Moody had given before, though he'd provided no instruction as to what it meant. Harry had improved quickly with the stunning spell, however, so he was inclined to believe in the concept.
"We'll work on this until the last Task, or until you master it, whichever comes first. You've got your basic offensive spells down well enough, so if you can get your defense up to snuff, you'll stand a much better chance of making it through." He chuckled. "At the rate you improve, maybe we'll set you to work on the Patronus."
Harry nodded. The unknown dangers of the Third Task loomed overhead, watching as he trained. Probably futilely. With the task only a few weeks away, he had begun to work himself to exhaustion each night, just so he would be too tired to worry.
Moody turned and walked to the other side of the room. He spun and leveled his wand. "Again! And stand still, Weasley!"
XxX
The day of the Third Task had been filled with students gawking through windows and loitering in the outer courtyards in an attempt to get a glimpse of the altered Quidditch Pitch. Rain in the middle of the day had obscured their chances and sent more than a few people scampering inside but by the time the evening rolled around, shining sunlight had burned away the storm and left the grounds outside muggy and damp.
A warm, heavy wind greeted the champions as they shuffled from the castle, led by the ever-jovial Ludo Bagman. A cheer erupted from the spectator stands around what had once been the Quidditch pitch as the short procession drew near.
Cedric waved to the crowd, a nervous smile plastered on his face while Krum walked alongside him, expression grim. Fleur walked behind the two, her head held high, ponytail swinging with each confident step. Harry brought up the rear, each plodding step driving him closer to gallows ground.
The hedges of the maze stretched high overhead, forcing Harry to crane his neck once they drew close. Light itself got lost in the tangled branches and towering labyrinthine walls, leaving foggy blankness just beyond the arched entrance. For all the excitement and yelling circling the maze, an oppressive air spilled out, rushing over Harry in a wave of dread.
A heavy hand dropped onto his shoulder and he jumped, spinning to find the grinning face of the Minister staring down at him.
"I've heard you have made an excellent showing so far, Mr. Potter," the Minister said, letting his hand drop as Harry stepped out from under it. "The youngest Champion ever, and you're in the lead!" His grin grew wider. "Keep it up and you just might win!"
Without waiting for a response, he stepped forward to speak with Bagman, pointing up to the stands, then over to the judge's table to the right. Madame Maxime, Dumbledore, and Barty Crouch were all seated in a row, with an empty chair sitting on the end next to the Beauxbatons Headmistress.
"All right, Minister," Bagman said with a chuckle. "It's not as easy as it looks, you know."
"I know a thing or two about public speaking, Ludo," Fudge grumbled, shooing the larger man from the group. Bagman moved to stand near the judge's table, taking a place next to where Karkaroff was finally sitting down. The Minister turned to address the champions. "Are you four ready? It's your chance to represent your schools and your respective countries to the best of your abilities."
Four stares met his proclamation and he nodded, his smile growing slightly more wooden. He pulled a spindly tan wand from an inner pocket of his muggle-style suit jacket and pointed it to his throat. A flash of light followed a muttered incantation and Fudge held his arms wide to encompass the watching crowd.
"Welcome, everyone!" he said, his grating voice reverberating throughout the stadium. The din of conversation quieted, leaving a quiet thrum of murmurs as anticipation became palpable in the air. "It is my pleasure, as the Minister of the host country, to announce the beginning of the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament!"
A roar rose from the crowd, loud enough to feel as though the very ground beneath Harry's feet rumbled with the noise.
"Our champions must make their way through this harrowing maze, filled with monsters, traps, secrets, and other unknown dangers in order to retrieve the Triwizard Cup. The first one to reach the Cup will be crowned Triwizard Champion!"
He turned to include the four champions standing behind him in his outstretched hands.
"These four have persevered and come out stronger for their struggles. Tonight they will enter the maze in order of their point total. First, against all odds, will be young Harry Potter!" A cheer arose at his name and all he could manage was a weak wave. "Second will be the lovely Miss Fleur Delacour. Third, the stoic Viktor Krum. And fourth, the stalwart Cedric Diggory!"
He paused a moment to allow the exuberant shouts of a crowd the opportunity to die down. Fleur looked over to Harry and offered him a faint smile.
"Good luck, 'Arry. Stay safe."
"You too," he said, surprised that he could produce any sound at all.
"Champions! Are you ready?"
As one, the four champions nodded and Harry belatedly realized that he was meant to be first into the death trap. A vagrant part of his mind wondered if he could take his nod back.
Fudge pointed his wand back at his neck and canceled the charm, waving Bagman over.
"Right," Bagman said as he approached. "There aren't many rules in this one beyond don't climb the hedges and fire up some red sparks if you can't continue. Good luck!"
" Sonorus ." Fudge turned to address the crowd once more, lifting his wand into the air. "I hereby declare the final Task of the Triwizard Tournament, begun!" Green sparks shot from the tip of his wand and Harry stepped forward, into the crushing gloom.
He trod lightly across the long grass, opting to take the first turn he could find.
Hermione's advice repeated itself in his ears, and absent a better plan, he might as well listen. Always take the same turn in a maze, and you'll eventually find the end.
He had just finished blasting a thicket of Devil's Snare from the path when he saw another burst of green sparks shoot into the sky behind him. His breath caught. Fleur was in the maze.
He shook his head and pressed on. In the spare handful of moments they had been able to talk in the final weeks leading up to the task, she had talked of her own stringent training regimen. She said she had been near to mastering another non-verbal spell. She'd be fine.
The path he walked arched to the left. A foggy mist spilled out from somewhere just out of view. Tendrils of translucent vapor coiled across the grass, fingers beckoning him forward. He hesitated, glancing back over his shoulder. Another burst of green. He edged closer to the mist, his body turned to the side in case he needed to run.
The path ahead was shrouded in fog, a rolling undulating mist that pulsed like a heartbeat. He squinted, a shadowy form coalescing in the center. Even from its silhouette, he could see that it was massive. A hulking form with broad shoulders and a rotund middle, it took a step forward, the mist parting to allow access.
Dread settled heavily atop his chest, forcing him to take quick staccato gasps of air. The mist curled around his feet, his legs, wrapping him in its damp embrace. The humid air sunk into his lungs. He panted, frozen in place.
The massive form of his uncle dominated his vision. Red-faced and furious, Uncle Vernon burst through the mist, one meaty hand balled into a fist in front of him.
"Listen here you worthless freak, you'll not embarrass us again by running off like some delinquent."
Harry's knees locked, his mouth worked without sound. The cost of his late-night exodus with Mr. Weasley had come due.
"Petunia's not here to blather on about her sister this time," Vernon said, the hand outstretched towards Harry's neck.
He pressed his back against the foliage wall, sticks and branches stabbing his back through his shirt.
The pain was nothing before the hand that filled his vision.
It was happening. Like when Dudley had gotten bitten by the snake at the zoo. He swallowed, the breath already locked in his throat.
A burst of off-green light lit the sky nearby and a familiar voice shouted a muted swear.
The hand vanished from his vision as his pulse thundered in his ears. Not again.
A flash of green. An angry scream.
He ran.
Outstretched branches whipped at his clothes as he ducked around a corner, more flashes of spellfire lighting the sky above the maze to his left. Green. Red. Red. Pink.
Turn.
He leapt over a puddle spread across the wide path, scaly hands reaching up to grab at his shoes as he soared over the water. He stumbled as he landed, his knee smashing hard against the firm ground. He tucked into an awkward roll and kept moving, taking the first left he could find. Indistinct shouts played at the edge of his hearing, barely audible against the hammering of his heart and the roar of adrenaline.
Sloppy. If the enemy doesn't know what you're casting, they won't have any warning as to what's about to knock them on their arse.
A flash of green, another feminine roar of fury. More spells.
Not again.
His feet thudded against the ground as he sprinted, ducking a winged blur of motion that came screeching from overhead. He heard it hit the ground and skitter to its feet. It let out another shriek that faded as Harry turned down another path, the flashes and voices drawing nearer.
He almost lost stride when the path ahead of him lurched, the walls rushing towards him, brushing against his shoulders as he ran. His breath came in ragged pants and he ignored the burning in his chest, fighting to draw in a deep breath in the crushing tunnel. He could still hear the shouts, growing nearer, but he couldn't see the flashes, the walls drawing ever higher as the maze sought to trap him in its leafy maw. Twigs tore at his face and hooked his glasses. Wooden hands smothered his shallow breath. He closed his eyes and forced himself forward, to invisible salvation.
With the sharp snap of branches, he tore himself free of the path and fell to the ground, gasping. He rose to his feet and pressed on, the path ending in a turn to the left, towards the duel. Spells came quicker now, lighting the nearby sky with rapid bursts. The turn made him reverse direction, reorienting his goal on his right. A bright red flash lit the sky and shone at the wall at the end of the too-long path.
Vibrant orange light burst to life, flickering and pulsing through the tight-knit branches on his right. Acrid smoke stung his mouth as he panted, a stitch in his side begging for rest. The light vanished and reappeared, the stench of burning grass and leaves thick in the air. Another flash of green light pierced the orange glow, and a visceral scream cut the air.
Harry's momentum carried him into the hedge at the end of his path, and he found himself separated from the burning, open square that held Krum and Fleur by a multitude of spider's silk strung across the gap in the walls. He threw himself against it to break through, to help his friend.
Pain flared through his side as he impacted a wall, rebounding hard onto the ground behind him. He struggled to his feet, eyes wide as another fireball soared through the air, splashing against Krum's hasty shield. Fleur stood a half dozen steps inside the square, her back to Harry. Grass around her blackened from the heat of two roiling balls of flame, one held aloft in each hand. The hedge walls behind Krum blazed, tongues of fire reaching to the starry sky.
Krum emerged from the flames, his glimmering shield still intact in front of him. Fleur raised a hand above her head, the fire shining like a sun in Harry's vision.
A motion from Krum drew his attention. The shield dropped. Krum's wand blurred. A jet of horribly familiar green light burst from his wand.
It arced through the air, it's glow shadowing the creeping flames around them. It hit the ground just behind where Fleur had been standing, sending rocks and earth to violently impact the silk keeping him from helping.
Fleur rose to her feet from where she dove to the side, flames still dancing above her hands. A shriek of rage issued from her; a raw, primal utterance at odds with her crystalline voice. It rang in his ears, persisting long after she should have run out of breath. It shifted, became sharper, fiercer, a double voice sounding in harmony in its rage. The first voice fell away, leaving a painful scream that reverberated in his mind instead of his ears.
A wall of heat washed over him, forcing him to shield his face against the rush of wind. He squinted against the onslaught and scooted backward until his back bumped against the hedge wall behind him. Fleur took a step forward, her hair whipping behind her, buffeted by the waves of fury made heat.
The scream in his mind redoubled, painful and shrill. It took on an ethereal reverberant edge and the fire on the ground around her blazed in response. The flames held above her hands expanded, silhouetting her with their light.
The back of her robes burst open, two massive scaly wings unfurling and flexing, testing the blazing air. They spread, blocking most of Harry's view.
Her hair, still visible as it swirled madly behind her in the churning currents of air, began to shift. As though melted by the inferno, the silver length melded and churned, adhering to the space between her wings. Feathers formed from the mass, pure luminescent silver reflecting the flames around her.
Another painful wave of heat accompanied the change and the orange tips of her fireballs, just visible over the top of her wings, flashed to a vivid blue.
Her wings stretched and, with a speed belying their size, they thrust her into the sky. A blazing blue beacon against the oppressive night.
Fireballs rained down on Krum whose shield sprang into existence the moment they left her hands. The flames burst apart against the charm, spilling across the ground, leaving charred earth where it spread. With a flick of his wand, Krum poured water into the air above his head, drenching himself. The runoff turned to steam that occluded Harry's view of the man.
Fleur circled in the air, shrill peals of frustration ringing in Harry's mind. She paused once she reached the opposite side, fireballs in either hand. She hurled one down into the steam, another flying wide, directed toward Harry.
He scrambled to his feet and leapt to the side as the fire spilled across the silken barrier. The web turned a bright red then began to smolder, holes appearing in patches across its length. More shrieks filled the air with flashes of blue to accompany them.
The fire vanished as the threads finally fell, opening the path for Harry. He held his wand above his head and doused himself in water as well. Even drenched, the heat was overwhelming. He shielded his face as he pushed through into the area where they fought.
Fleur descended until she was only a few feet above the ground and began to pepper Krum with the azure flames. He reacted quickly, producing another shield charm between him and certain death.
Fleur let out a deafening shriek and Harry thrust his wand forward. " Stupefy. "
The spell burst from his wand and sailed through the air. It split blue flames rising from the grass and impacted against Krum's exposed back. He fell to the ground, his shield vanishing in front of the fire streaking towards him.
The fire blinked out of existence in midair, the spreading flames across the ground vanishing along with it. Charred earth and hedge walls remained, wisps of smoke rising to the starry sky.
A few powerful beats of her wings brought her to land in front of him, small bursts of air rushing past with each stroke. She landed gingerly on taloned feet that had burst through the bottoms of her boots.
Feathers of the same luminous silvery-blond as her hair covered her body, running up her arms and down her neck, disappearing beneath her shirt. A ferocious hooked beak protruded from the lower half of her face, resting below radiant blue eyes. They glowed bright in the darkness around them, a raging inferno of fury held beneath the surface. He took a step back as curled taloned claws flexed, a dangerous shrill call resounding in his mind.
The feathers on her head rippled, the wave traveling through the fine feathers on her face and down her neck, vanishing under her collar. He hesitated, surprised to still see his friend, even through her avian features. Sharp lines of the beak that had once been distinct cheekbones, a graceful step, even in such an alien form and, though glowing, the same curious gaze.
As though cut by a string, the tension left her body. Her wings folded behind her and she regarded him.
One taloned hand extended towards him.
" My wand ?" she asked, her unintelligible screech somehow conveying her meaning in his mind.
He blinked and looked around on the ground, feeling foolish when he realized his wand was still clenched in his right hand. " Accio Fleur's Wand ."
It spun towards him from one of the far corners and he plucked it from the air with his left hand and held it out to her.
" Thank you, " she said, accepting the wand with one of her clawed hands. She tucked it awkwardly into a pocket, her enlarged fingers disallowing fine movement.
"Do you…" he began before wetting his surprisingly dry mouth. "Do you need to change back?"
" I will be exhausted when I do, " she answered, the plumage across her head rippling as she spoke. " I would prefer to be exhausted and useless later, rather than now. I do not have much time left. We must hurry. I will be able to handle anything we come across on our way to the cup."
"I saw," he said, glancing around to the scorched earth surrounding them.
Fleur nodded her head once then tilted her head to the sky. " Stand back. I will look for a path to the end ."
With a powerful sweep of her wings, she lifted skyward, the gusts of wind ruffling his hair and clothes as she rose.
Once she was high enough that he could no longer make out any details, he stepped over to where Krum lay face-down in blackened grass. He stood over the unconscious Bulgarian, studying the back of his head as though he could find answers if he stared hard enough. Why had he been so intent on targeting Fleur? There was nothing inherently wrong with hampering your competition but that spell that had forced Fleur to dive to the side…
He knew that spell…
His blood boiled as he stared down at Krum's defenseless form. He had tried to kill Fleur…again. No popped charm this time, just vivid green death.
As if on cue, a sharp angry shriek sounded from above, drawing his attention. He found her flying near the top of one of the walls, sparks arcing from the air across one of her outstretched arms. She spun and descended, landing next to him, her glowing eyes fixated on Krum. An odd angry trill rang out from her throat, her fierce countenance darkening further. She whirled to Harry, her intensity locking him in place.
" Cast the red sparks for him. We will need to walk. Let us go. "
He lifted his wand and fired the sparks into the air. He turned to leave, then hesitated as Moody's frequent admonitions floated through his memory.
" You've got to make sure they're down for good, Potter. If they're not dead, make sure they won't be coming for you any time soon."
Two red flashes lit the area, both impacting Krum's prone form. He followed with a complete body-bind curse. Fleur turned to him, her ferocity entirely replaced by confusion.
"He tried to kill you," he said defensively. "We needed to be sure he wouldn't follow us."
" Good thinking. " She pointed to one of the three paths that lead from the small clearing. " That way, let us go."
In one rapid motion, she reached out a taloned hand and grabbed Harry's wrist, pulling him alongside her.
He nearly had to jog to keep up with her long, purposeful strides. He bumped into her wing as they rounded a corner, the scales surprisingly smooth against his shoulder.
"Did you see anything that might get in our way?" he asked as she pulled him around another corner.
" Nothing I cannot handle, " she said, her avian voice sounding within his mind, while his ears simply heard a muted call from her beak.
"Like?"
" Skrewts, gargoyles, and a sphinx. " Her feathers rippled as she spoke and her pace quickened. " We must hurry. Turn here. "
She froze as they rounded the corner and he barely had enough time to register the wrong side of a blast-ended skrewt. He spun on his heel, reversing her grip on his hand, and dragged her back to safety. The scales of her hand weren't as smooth as her wing, and dug into his palm, the uneven surface radiating heat. He pushed her out of the way as a blast of explosive fire shot past, grazing his left arm.
He pulled off his robe, glad he'd opted to wear reasonable clothes beneath. An angry red burn climbed up the back of his arm. At least it wasn't dragon's fire.
He looked up to find Fleur staring at him, perplexed. " Why did you do that? " She asked, tilting her head. " I am fire-resistant normally. Even more so in this form. It would not have hurt ."
"Well, I'm not," he grumbled, lifting his arm.
Her glowing eyes widened, following his arm as he let it drop back to his side.
" You are burned, " she said, the vibration in her throat soft; almost a whisper. She lifted a clawed hand toward him before letting it drop and stared at it a moment longer before she stepped forward, her eyes narrowed.
Flame burst to life in her hand and he recoiled from the heat.
" Get behind me, " she commanded, spreading her wings to surround him. " I will protect you."
She stepped forward, the tips of her wings prodding him along, keeping him encircled in his silvery cocoon. The blue illumination of her fire shone around her, though the brunt of the heat was blocked by her body. The light vanished and the dying screams of a skrewt echoed in the night.
"I can help you," he said, stepping over the charred remains as they continued forward.
" Non. You were hurt. Burned. I will not let that happen again. I will not see that again. I will protect you ."
She allowed no room for argument, forcing him to follow her lead. She paused after a turn, letting out another angry trill. She raised another fireball and threw it, a familiar chittering sound falling silent as the fire vanished.
"I don't want you hurt either," he tried, stepping around the blackened acrid corpse of an acromantula.
" I will not be hurt ," she said, picking up the pace until they were jogging. She turned to the left, pressing through a narrow path. Her wings pressed against him, the scales hot against his face and arms. They broke free from the path and hurried on. She stumbled as they took another turn.
" We must hurry, I am nearly-."
He opened his mouth to speak but was stopped short when he ran into her back. He spluttered as he got a face full of silver hair and feathers. He paused, then gaped as her wings began to shrink around him.
She cursed as she sank to her knees, panting as her wings and feathers dug into her skin. The scales on her feet ground together as they burrowed into pale flesh and her three talons split with a viscus squelch into toes. Her wings jerked and shuddered as they folded into themselves, finally vanishing into the smooth skin of her back.
She sat for a moment, her back rising and falling with deep, heavy breaths. He laid a tentative hand on her shoulder once her breathing began to slow. She jumped at the contact and turned to offer him a wan smile with her normal, if a bit pale, lips.
"Let us go," she said, her voice ragged and determined. She rose to her feet, kicking off her ruined boots. "The sphinx is around the corner. The Triwizard Cup is just beyond."
Harry nodded, leading the way with one of Fleur's uncommonly cold hands on his shoulder for support. They turned the corner to find the majestic beast spread across the massive path, golden eyes trained upon them the moment they appeared.
"Hello, young one…By average still truth," it said, wrinkling its nose as though smelling something distasteful as it stared unblinking at Harry. It turned then to Fleur. "Hello, little fey."
She stiffened at the words, her hand tightening on his shoulder. She mastered herself and took a shaky step forward. "Hello. May we pass?"
"You must answer my riddles to pass. One for each of you. Answer correctly and I will step aside. Answer incorrectly and I will attack. You may leave before answering if you desire and find one of the other paths to your goal."
Fleur glanced over to Harry, the question obvious in her open features. He nodded. At least he stood a chance against a riddle. An unseen gargoyle or another skrewt might be the end of him when Fleur's fire wasn't cutting a path for them.
"We accept," she announced, her voice steady and strong.
"Very well," the sphinx replied, a slow smile growing across its wide face. "First to you, then." It focused on Fleur.
Nature's keepers, bribery the fee
A king and queen herald folklore to be
Or not to be my questions three
But answer one you may go free
A gift to hang, tied roundabout
Can curry favor for any lout.
Colors vary, hues may shine.
As lavender sings, "Please be mine."
Potential secrets, they may offer
With this gift, for their coffer
Fleur stared at the sphinx, an unusually unreadable expression flitting across her features. She muttered something to herself in French, then narrowed her eyes.
"A ribbon," she said, a hint of defiance in her voice and posture.
The sphinx nodded its massive head. "Knowing where you came from will help you understand how to get where you wish to go."
She said a quiet, "Thank you," then sat down, resting her back against the shrubbery wall.
"And you?" the sphinx rumbled, turning to Harry. "Are you ready, odd one?"
Harry frowned, then nodded.
First, think of the person who lives in disguise,
Who deals in secrets and tells naught but lies.
Next, tell me what's always the last the mend,
The middle of middle and end of the end?
And finally, give me the sound often heard,
During the search for a hard-to-find-word.
Now string them together and answer me this,
Which creature would you be unwilling to kiss?
"A spider," he answered after a minute's thought.
"Very good. Despite its small and seemingly insignificant stature, a spider's poison can swiftly bring about your end. As can many poisonous things you may think innocuous." It rose to its feet, towering over them. With heavy footsteps that thudded against the ground, it stepped to the side. "You may both pass."
Harry helped Fleur back to her feet and they continued forward, Fleur leaning heavily on him as they walked, her arm draped over his shoulder.
"It is here," she said, her voice quiet as they neared the turn at the end of the sphinx's path. They turned the corner and stopped short at the circular area ahead of them. The ground was lined with stretches of stone, five paths tracing from various entrances up to a stone short stone plinth. The Triwizard Cup rested atop the pedestal.
She turned to look at him, an excited smile peeking through the exhaustion. "Together?"
He smiled back, the weight of the tournament finally lifting from his shoulders. It was over.
"You take it," he said. "You're the one who got us through this horrible maze, and-"
"And you saved my life," she cut in. "Together, or not at all."
He readjusted her arm over his shoulder, sighing in defeat. "Together then."
They walked the stone path to the cup, her bare feet padding across the walkway as they approached.
"On three?" she asked, grinning.
He nodded, hovering a hand next to his side of the cup, mimicking her.
"One."
"Two."
"Three!"
They reached out, grabbing the metal on either side.
The moment their hands brushed the cool surface, Harry felt a distinctive tug behind his navel, and they were whisked away from the scene of their triumph.
XxX
"Dumbledore!" Moody bellowed, barreling his way through the small crowd of Ministry officials that Fudge had invited to stand near the judge's table. A dog followed at his heels, growling if someone didn't move fast enough.
Dumbledore turned as Moody approached, his features grim.
"He's gone, Dumbledore," Moody said as he approached the platform. Moody scowled at the empty seat on the end. "Where's Karkaroff?"
"He went to check on Mr. Krum," Crouch snapped. "He's in the medical tent."
"Crouch, you daft bastard. How you managed to catch even a single Death Eater is beyond me. I'd bet my other leg they're gone." He rounded on Dumbledore. "You've been outmaneuvered."
"There will be plenty of time for blame later," Dumbledore said, rising to his feet and summoning a rock with a wave of his hand. " Portus. "
The rock glowed blue for a moment, before settling back to its earthy gray. He dropped it into Moody's hand.
"This will take you to Hogsmeade, outside the apparition wards. The activation command is, 'travel.' Follow the tracker on Harry. If you think you can retrieve him without any trouble, do so. If you run into resistance, come get me and we will use Fawkes to return to rescue him."
Moody nodded curtly and vanished with the muttered word.
"Dumbledore?" Madam Maxime said, rising to her full impressive height. "What is going on?"
"I suggest you locate Miss Delacour. I believe we find ourselves in the midst of something sinister."
"Sinister? Dumbledore, what does that mean? We spent months ensuring this would happen without any issues."
Her question fell upon deaf ears. The headmaster was striding up to the castle, the large black dog on his heels.
AN: Although the next few chaps follow the old very closely, they got a lot of attention in pacing and tweaking the verbiage and format to make it flow better and feel a bit more tense, as action scenes should. I'd say this is where the beta channel on the flowerpot discord really started to earn their keep, then didn't stop the whole rest of the story. If you wanna join us, the link is in my profile.