Hah... Hah... Hah...
Harry's breathing grew heavier, the only sound in the maze as his steps crunched through dry leaves, carrying him past one corner after the next.
Left… right… left again… It was far more challenging than the simulations, he realized. Forget about the dangerous creatures, even finding the right path was wearing him out, mentally at least.
Crunch… crunch… crunch…
This should be it, though. Thinking that, he slowed to a stop and drew in a few long breaths.
Now then… the sign...
His eyes moved over the hedge walls, searching for that slight, almost invisible detail that marked the way in, like the barrier at Platform Three-Quarters, where he was meant to pass through, straight to where Sirius was waiting—
There!
The corner of his lips curled up slightly, finally. There, on the right, a section of hedge that looked no different from the rest held the faint clue he had been looking for.
Crunch…
He stepped toward it, not even pausing to think twice. He knew Professor Caesar was watching him, while the cameras must have turned to the other champions by now. The moment he arrived here, the plan had already begun, and now it was just a matter of following the script, as his professor so often said.
Moreover, this particular corner of the maze was enchanted so no other champion could even accidentally stumble onto this path, like a Muggle-repellent charm at work, they would subconsciously avoid it without thinking. So there was no need to worry about anyone hiding nearby and watching his movements as well...
...he recalled the small details, filling his lungs as he took slow, steady steps forward, but then just as he was about to make contact with the wall, a hand suddenly burst out from the leaves, startling him.
"What the—" he cursed, but the hand was faster, it grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him through before he could even protest.
"HARRY!"
"SIRIUS!"
Harry's expression relaxed when he saw who it was. It was his godfather. He should have expected the old mutt to try something like that.
The two of them grabbed each other in a quick, tight embrace, but there was a third person there as well, and he clearly did not share their enthusiasm.
"For Merlin's sake, could you two be any louder…"
Sirius shot the man an annoyed look, irritated at the interruption, then turned to Harry again, the edge fading into a familiar grin. "What took you so long, kid?"
"I…" Harry rubbed the back of his head. I got lost. He wasn't going to admit that, though, and returned a sheepish grin instead. "Ran into some of Hagrid's friends, you see… oh, and had to take out one of the competition."
"Black! Potter! This is seriously not the time or place for you two to be reminiscing!" the other man snapped again, his voice sharper this time, edged with urgency.
"Fine!" Sirius sighed, giving the man another eye roll. Of course he knew what was at stake, it was just… now that the moment had come, he felt a quiet reluctance, his instincts dragging things out for even a second longer.
Harry chuckled, looking at his expression. "You know, I never realized I looked this handsome up close…"
Sirius laughed back. Yes, he was Sirius Black, but he looked nothing like himself, instead wearing Harry's appearance, even down to the uniform.
His expression finally turned serious. "Are you ready, kid?"
He grabbed Harry by both shoulders and fixed his eyes on him. From here on, Harry would be on his own, well, not entirely, but he would have to play his part without help. Meanwhile, Sirius would take on Harry's role, running through the maze to find the Triwizard Cup. There was no way he would let the glory fall under anyone else's name but his godson's.
"I am." Harry nodded firmly as well. "You be careful too… some of those creatures can be really nasty."
"It should be you who should be careful, Harry. Remember, just like we practiced all those times, don't get triggered by anything the Dark Lord might say. Follow the script!" Sirius emphasized.
"Yes, the script, I know, I know."
"Black!"
Sirius groaned and finally turned to the other man. He did not look particularly familiar, but that was a disguise as well, just like his. Sirius knew exactly who it was.
Lucius Malfoy.
He certainly was not fond of the man, and even if his boss said he could be trusted… Sirius still did not trust him. However, there was not much of a choice.
Glaring into his eyes, instead, all he could do was give him a warning. "Play your part as well. I swear, if anything happens to my godson, I will hunt you to the ends of the earth!"
Lucius, on the other hand, was not the least bit agitated, and this time it was he who rolled his eyes. "Leave, Black… if the cameras stay off the boy for too long, people will start asking questions."
"He's right, Sirius…" Harry cut in, nodding once. He met his godfather's eyes and gave a small, steady tilt of his head, a quiet assurance passing between them. "Go… I'll be fine..."
Sirius's face still looked conflicted, but in the end he groaned and turned his head. Before leaving, he grabbed his godson again and pulled him into a firm hug, whispering into his shoulder, "Be careful… good luck."
Harry nodded and watched as Sirius stepped out from the small, dark space they were in. Only then did he turn to the other man. Unlike Sirius, Harry had no idea who he really was, only that he was a spy planted in Voldemort's ranks by Professor Caesar.
"Right… get on with it, then… I'm ready…" he said, clutching his wand and taking a deep breath.
Malfoy Senior, however, said nothing sentimental and simply moved on to do his part. He raised his wand, and under Harry's expectant gaze, as the boy steadied his breathing and closed his eyes, he fired—
"Stupefy!"
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Two hexes, one after the other, fired from the exquisitely crafted wand, the second spell locking Harry's body stiff as he collapsed, ensuring he would not move even if the first spell wore off too quickly.
Harry also made no attempt to dodge or counter them, and simply closed his eyes and let the magic hit.
"Ugh…" he groaned. It didn't matter that he was expecting it, he was still hurled across the ground a short distance, and it hurt like a bitch.
Meanwhile, when the cameras flickered back to the boy with glasses running through the maze on the large screens once again, no one noticed that anything had changed. Cheers rose at once, his name rolling through the stands.
"Harry! Harry!"
The sound swelled. Even his best friends, when the camera zoomed in on his face, could only smile and continue hoping he would be the one to reach the prize first.
---
Despite two hexes hitting him squarely in the chest, Harry still did not completely black out or lose consciousness. At least that's what he thought.
He then felt his world spin, a familiar sensation, before his feet slammed into solid ground again. Too bad, the pain from earlier gave way at once, and with the stunning hex still binding his body, he could not stay on his feet at all and fell forward face-first.
Ugh… he groaned, spitting the damp, gritty soil from his mouth and turning his head with effort. Darkness was everywhere, and with his vision still blurred, he could not make out anything just yet.
"What… happened?" he spoke, sounding dazed, but nothing answered him. It was quiet, eerily quiet. For a moment, he simply lay there, the silence stretching on long enough to make him wonder if he had ended up in the right place at all.
When his vision finally began to clear, the first thing he saw was grey stones everywhere around him. It was dark, dark as hell and creepy beyond words.
His arms and legs would not respond at all, no matter how hard he tried. Only his neck gave, inch by inch, as if the rest of his body had been left behind. It was slow, helpless, almost humiliating, like something crawling across the ground, and all he could manage was to turn his head.
In the distance, shapes began to take form through the darkness. He could make out the crooked outline of a small church-like place beyond a large tree to his right, and to the left, the land rose into a hill, and atop it sat the shadow of a house.
Everything about the place felt wrong. If it had been anyone else, their skin would have crawled at the sight, but as he took it all in, he felt a small sigh of relief. It was still eerie and unsettling, but he had been expecting this, and the surroundings matched the place he had seen during the simulation practices.
That said, he could not show that on his face, even if he felt there was no one around him, he still kept up the act, portraying a perfectly terrified teenager.
Cruch...
The silence, fortunately or unfortunately, did not last long.
His head turned as fast as he could manage at the sound of a footstep, and he saw it was the same person who had brought him here, walking alongside another figure.
It was time to play his part. With that thought, his expression turned into a mix of anger and fear, and he tried to move his body, but it still refused to budge.
All he could do was use his voice. "What did you do to me?" he shouted, watching as the two figures came closer, and finally he was able to recognize the second one as well.
"You are…" His eyes widened at the sight of the man's heavy, round face.
However, what answered him was neither of the two, he did not see their lips move. Instead, from directly above his head, he heard a high-pitched, somewhat shrieking, cold voice say, "Bring... the boy."
But because he was face down and his body bound by magic, he could not turn his head upward. All he knew was that whatever that voice was, it could not possibly be human.
"As you command, my lord."
It was the spy who answered. Harry saw the man raise his wand toward him again, and in the next moment, he felt his body lift against gravity, floating upward, presumably to be "brought" wherever that eerie voice had ordered.
The simulations he had gone through were only a general idea of what to expect, and this was certainly not part of them. However, that too had been part of the training, to expect the worst.
So a bit of suffering and pain, maybe even a jolt of the Cruciatus, was to be expected, but he knew he was not in any mortal danger that could cost him his life. Professor Caesar must be watching, and should something unexpected were to happen, he would be saved. He trusted that completely.
So he played along, showing struggle, his bloodshot eyes wide, a perfect blend of fear and anger as his body was dragged along.
It was not far. When the movement finally stopped, he forced his head up as much as he could. In front of him stood a marble headstone, far larger than the rest in the graveyard, as tall as he was, and behind it loomed a creepy-looking statue.
His gaze flickered, catching the name carved into the stone, faintly lit by the moonlight—
TOM... RIDDLE
—when in the next instant, he felt his body being spun around before he was slammed hard against it.
—————————
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