They Shook Hands: Year Four (Original Version)

They Shook Hands : Year Four

An alternate (but realistic!) universe Harry Potter fic
by Dethryl

Chapter Twenty-Three - The Maze

The start of the summer term would normally have meant that Harry was training hard for the last Quidditch match of the season. This year, however, it was the third and final task in the Triwizard Tournament for which he needed to prepare, but he still didn't know what he would have to do. He'd resorted to practising his duelling with Draco, Millie, and Jenna down in the Chamber of Secrets for hours at a time. Pansy tried to help, but she didn't have the stamina for sustained casting, nor was she particularly good at Charms.

Harry had gotten quite good at casting the Protego Shield and was able to deal with both Draco and Millie at the same time if they weren't shielding. Duelling two opponents sent a thrill of fear through Harry every time they did it. He knew the odds were stacked against him. Did he have the audacity to beat them again?

Finally, in the last week of May, Professor Snape came over to the table as dinner was finishing. He had a self-satisfied look about him, as though he had some Gryffindors to supervise in detention that evening. He stopped abruptly and his robes, which had been catching a slight breeze with his motion, settled in to position as he folded his arms.

"Mister Potter, Mister Bagman is expecting all of the champions on the Quidditch pitch tonight at nine o'clock sharp. He is going to tell you about the third task."

"Thank you, sir. I'll be there."

"I am most eager to learn the nature of it. Please don't keep me in suspense."

"Yes, sir." Outstanding. Snape would help him with the third task as well. Maybe he'd let Snape display the Triwizard Cup in his office.

So at half past eight that night, Harry left the Slytherin dungeons and went upstairs. As he crossed the entrance hall, Diggory came up from the Hufflepuff common room.

"What d'you reckon it's going to be?" he asked Harry as they went together down the stone steps, out into the cloudy night. "Fleur reckons we've got to find treasure in underground tunnels."

"On a first name basis with her, are you?" said Harry cheekily. "That wouldn't be too bad." He could use his Animagus form to see in the dim light and scurry through quickly. He'd be well situated if he had to fight. He was quick as a flash, and he could strike with tooth or claw and be away before anything could react.

They walked down the dark lawn to the Quidditch stadium, turned through a gap in the stands, and walked out onto the pitch. They stopped dead. Harry was horrified. The pitch was no longer smooth and flat. It looked as though somebody had been building long, low walls all over it that twisted and crisscrossed in every direction.

"What've they done to it?" Diggory said indignantly.

"They're hedges!" said Harry, bending to examine the nearest one.

"Hello there!" called a cheery voice.

Ludo Bagman was standing in the middle of the field with Viktor and Fleur. Harry and Diggory made their way toward them, climbing over the hedges.

"Well, what d'you think?" said Bagman happily as Harry and Diggory climbed over the last hedge. "Growing nicely, aren't they? Give them a month and Hagrid'll have them twenty feet high. Don't worry," he added, grinning, spotting the less-than-happy expressions on Harry's and Cedric's faces, "you'll have your Quidditch pitch back to normal once the task is over! Now, I imagine you can guess what we're making here?"

No one spoke for a moment. Then -

"Maze," grunted Viktor.

"That's right!" said Bagman. "A maze. The third task's really very straightforward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the centre of the maze. The first champion to touch it will receive full marks."

"We seemply 'ave to get through the maze?" said Fleur.

"Nothing simple about it, my dear. There will be obstacles," said Bagman happily, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Hagrid is providing a number of creatures. There will be spells that must be broken. All that sort of thing, you know. Now, the champions will enter the maze in order of their standing in the points." Bagman grinned at Harry. "That means Mister Potter, then Mister Diggory, Mister Krum and Miss Delacour. But you'll all be in with a fighting chance, depending how well you get past the obstacles. Should be fun, eh?"

Harry, who knew Hagrid's reputed fondness for feisty critters would likely be going out of control for an event like this, didn't think it sounded fun at all; however, he nodded politely like the other champions.

"Very well. If you haven't got any questions, we'll go back up to the castle, shall we? It's a bit chilly."

Bagman hurried alongside Harry as they began to wend their way out of the growing maze. Harry had the feeling that Bagman was going to start offering to help him again.

"Going all right, Harry? You've done phenomenally in the tournament so far. Optimistic about the maze?"

"You said the trophy is going to be in the centre?"

"Yes. Got an idea for winning, have you?"

"Sure," Harry said confidently. "No sweat."

Back up at the castle, Harry walked right past his fellow Slytherins in the common room. In the safety of his dorm room, Harry sat on his bed and held the enchanted mirror in his hands.

"Sirius Black!"

"Harry Potter!"

As it always did, hearing his godfather's voice made everything seem more manageable. Knowing he could rely on Sirius no matter what, knowing he didn't have to face the world alone, filled Harry with comfort. "It's a maze, Sirius. They're hiding the Triwizard Cup in the centre of a maze and we have to find it first."

"No problem for Marauder ingenuity!" Nothing put Sirius off his game. He played every hand to the fullest, bluffing outrageously at times.

"I'm not sure how to prepare. I don't know what specific trials I'm going to face."

"Then you'll need to be prepared for anything." That made a certain amount of sense. "You're still practising your spells with the others, right?"

"Yeah." In lieu of knowing what to prepare for, he'd worked at getting better with Defence.

"Keep that up. Offensive magic will probably be required. Make sure you can defend yourself. There could be anything waiting for you."

"Constant vigilance."

"Hah! Yes, constant vigilance."

"I've got to go tell the others now, but I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Good night, Harry."

Harry put the mirror away and went out to the common room to fill in his friends. He was halfway through describing the way the Quidditch pitch had been abused when Professor Snape stepped through the sliding stone wall.

"Mister Potter, what have you learned about the third task?"

"It's a maze, sir. We've got to get through it and find the Triwizard Cup."

"The maze will no doubt be filled with traps and tribulations."

"Most likely, sir."

"Work on your counterspells. Magical traps will incorporate common curses and hexes. Polish your best offensive spells for direct confrontations." He looked at the other Slytherins. "I trust you are assisting in this regard?"

"Yes, sir," they said.

"Good. Make sure you bring several potions with you, Mister Potter. I recommend the Camoflage Potion, a Bone-Restorative, and a Blood-Replenisher. I will provide you with more potent recipes by tomorrow morning. Any other potion you feel would be useful, inform me, and I will adjust the formulation accordingly."

"Thank you, sir."

"We must keep your winning streak intact," Snape said with a twitch of a smile as he stood up. "Up Slytherin."

"Up Slytherin," Harry replied. "Good night, sir."

"Good night to you all."

"Aren't you glad he's on your side, Harry?" Jenna asked. "Would you have thought of carrying potions?"

"Definitely not. I wonder if I can just brew a whole bunch of Dissolving Draught and burn my way directly to the centre."

"Probably not," Draco said. "I bet the hedges of the maze are going to be resistant to things like fire, Reducto Curses, and so on. You're going to have to traverse the maze."

"I wonder if I could get up on top of the hedges."

"Maybe, but they've probably thought of that too. After what you did against the dragons, they'll probably block anyone from using brooms to get above it."

"You're just full of good news, aren't you?" Harry said morosely, kicking at the fringe of the rug.

"Just trying to help."

"You can help best by keeping up with what you've been doing so far," Pansy said. "You heard Professor Snape. After the unorthodox challenges of the first two tasks, traditional skills are now being called for."

"Then I'm glad we haven't been wasting our time," Draco replied.

At lunch the next day, Harry veered towards the Ravenclaw table. He wanted to tell Padma all about the maze. Maybe with her brains she'd figure out a trick to help him get through.

"Hey, Padma," he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"Harry, we were just talking about you. It's all over school that the third task is a huge maze."

"I was going to tell you over lunch. Want to join us?"

"Sure."

"Harry!" Terry protested. "You can't do this."

"So join us. I'm sure Pansy wouldn't mind. Goyle either, Mandy. Come on."

The three Ravenclaws picked up their plates and cups and jumped to the next bench.

"Well, I love mazes," Padma said. "Puzzles of all kinds, really. They're great for a change of pace during study sessions. They still require thought, but it's completely different from revising. Did you know that if you follow the right-hand edge of a maze you'll eventually reach the centre?"

Would he be able to find the centre in time if he used that trick? He would have to fight through all of the challenges in the loops and dead ends before getting there. Surely there were other things he could try.

"But maybe you should talk to Professor Vector. Arithmancy is all about derivations, right? There's got to be a way to discern the best path to take. She's bound to know it."

Arithmancy was their next class. Funny, that. After the lecture, Harry and Padma lingered. Professor Vector finished stuffing their collected essays in to her bag.

"Yes? What is it, Potter?"

"Professor, I don't know if you've heard yet about the third task."

"News travels fast around this old castle. I've heard."

"I was thinking it would be really helpful if I could keep my bearings. Is there an Arithmancy spell or something I can use to figure out my direction?"

"Were teachers allowed to help you, Mister Potter, Professor Sinistra would advise you to look at the stars."

"There's no guarantee I'll be able to see the stars."

"Most astute of you."

"Arithmancy is one of the most powerful branches of magic when properly applied," Harry said, throwing the flattery in shamelessly. "I was hoping to learn a technique or something that would help me derive which way to go, to differentiate between the correct path and the wrong path."

"Arithmancy can indeed fulfill your requirements, Mister Potter." Professor Vector said, sending Harry's hopes soaring. "But I am not supposed to help you."

"I didn't enter myself in this tournament. I'm just trying to survive. I need your help. Please." Harry suddenly remembered something else. "I hear tell that you were a Slytherin when you were in school. Is that true?"

"It is."

"Then I'm asking as a Slytherin."

Professor Vector ran a hand through her black hair and sighed. "Very well, Mister Potter. From one Slytherin to another, I will tell you. Yes, there is a handy bit of magic called the Point Me Charm."

"What does it do?"

"It will show the caster which way is north."

"That's it?"

"Yes. I see the question you have. You know how to find north, but you don't know if north is good. It doesn't help you decide between the three paths in front of you and the two behind. This is the wand motion you combine with the Point Me Charm, and it will lead you to your target."

"Thank you, Professor. Thank you so much."

"Good luck in the Maze."

Harry practised the Point Me Charm every day. He would send Draco off to some distant corner of the castle and use the spell to find him. It was a tricky Charm to get the hang of, but it was well worth the time Harry spent to learn it. Once he had mastered using it to find a person, he tried to track down his Firebolt. Like the Triwizard Cup, it was an inanimate object. This was much harder, but with a week of practice, Harry could find his way all the way across the castle.

* * *

The first Monday of June was Draco's fifteenth birthday. They hadn't planned anything big or exciting, as it was a Monday, but the fourth years gathered in a corner of the common room to listen to the wizards' wireless with certain guests from Ravenclaw and one in particular from Gryffindor. Everything was going swimmingly until an apoplectic sputter made them all turn their heads.

"What is this?" Terence Higgs, seventh year prefect stood in the entrance to the corridor that led back to the dorms. "What in the name of Merlin's voluminous, star-spangled robes is this? I see four people who do not belong here. Who are these Ravenclaws and Gryffindor?"

"They're guests, Higgs," Harry said, not really concerned. "It's a party."

"This is the Slytherin common room, Potter. There have been far too many non-Slytherins hanging around lately. There are plenty of other places in the castle to carouse. If you don't wear green and silver on a regular basis, get out. Now. Or I start taking points."

Padma, Parvati, Terry, and Mandy all grumbled. Harry, Draco, Pansy, and Goyle muttered darkly. Goyle picked up the wireless. All of the couples exited through the stone wall and stood on the spot.

"Bloody sod," Draco said. "I'm not about to let this party end. Where can we go?"

"It's nearly nine. Should we even bother?" Terry asked.

"Of course we should," Harry declared. "Have you no spirit?"

"No, we don't have any spirits. None of the older students would get us any."

"Well, it's a good thing I smuggled a bottle back from Easter," Draco said. "This was the plan, eventually, any way. Let's go find a storage room and transfigure ourselves some furniture. Are you up to it, Terry?"

The Ravenclaw boy bristled. "Anything you can change, I can change back and forth, Draco."

"Let's see if you say that after a couple of sips."

"What is this stuff you're so keen on?"

"Elan called it the Unforgiveable Liquor. We got drunk the night before the train. He wanted it to be a controlled experience, he said. I nicked the rest of the bottle."

"So that's why you were so grumpy," Pansy said. "Hungover? How frightfully gauche."

"This is more than liquor. There's magic infused in to it, and it's a kick you don't get used to. It makes firewhiskey taste like water."

"I thought you didn't approve of drinking."

"I don't approve of getting blitheringly drunk," Draco corrected her meticulously. "Maybe you shouldn't have any."

"Are you challenging me?"

"I would never dream of it, Pansy, darling. It's my birthday. I want only to listen to some good music, take a few sips, and share a few kisses with my gorgeous girlfriend." Draco raised Parvati's hand and considered it briefly before kissing it. Pansy shot him a dirty look.

The room they found was filled with crates of old books. The wood made fine material for transfiguring in to chairs. After summoning up some globes of light to see by and setting up the wireless in the corner, Draco and Terry tried to outdo each other with fancy carvings and elaborate design. Pansy and Parvati stood next to each other with folded arms, cocked heads, and vicious glares when each thought the other wasn't looking.

Harry looked at Padma. The amused look she sent him nearly made him snort with repressed laughter. He nearly muffed his transfiguration, the practice of which was now near second nature to him.

Goyle and Mandy were working together on one chair at a time. Neither of them was particularly gifted in that arena, but they were able to achieve success with a little teamwork.

Now that they were all comfortably seated, Draco uncorked his flask and took a long sip. He passed it to Harry, swallowed, and sucked in a deep gasp of air. A red flush crept up his face. He coughed once.

"Wow," Harry said. "Here goes."

The drink was fleeting and ephemerous. Harry rolled it over his tongue, and he tasted mint. He handed the flask to Goyle and swallowed. It spread cool numbness as it slid down his throat. He drew in a deep breath and the chill shot up in to his brain. He gasped involuntarily and fell prey to a coughing fit. When he finally caught his breath, he looked up in embarrassment. He knew his face was burning red.

"All right, Harry?" Goyle was eyeing the flask with trepidation.

"Never better," he croaked.

Goyle choked on his sip, his throat violently rejecting the drink. It sprayed from his mouth, covering Pansy with sticky blue liquid. He thrust the flask at Terry and doubled over, hacking and wheezing for breath.

Parvati laughed merrily as Pansy glared at Goyle. She pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her face, but it was futile. "Terry, dear?" she said sweetly.

Terry was very quick with his Cleaning Charm. He didn't look at all like he wanted anything to do with the flask, but Draco was looking at him expectantly. Raising it in the air a bit in a mock toast, he took a small sip. He handed the flask to Padma and began gasping.

Padma took a dainty taste, passed the flask to her twin sister, and smiled sweetly. Parvati was likewise non-challant as she took a pull. Pansy glared at them both.

"How can you just sit there when these boys are nearly dying?"

"It's not so bad. Nothing like dad's curry recipe." Padma smiled. "Pass it back over."

"Hey, I didn't get any," Mandy protested.

Pansy appeared thoughtful, considering the twins with narrowed eyes. "Me first."

Pansy fared no better than the boys. Neither did Mandy. Harry's vision was spinning. Whatever the drink was, it was potent. Fortunately, the choice of whether or not to have another sip was not up to him. After everyone had taken one, the flask was empty.

Mandy finally stopped coughing and set the flask on the floor. "Who wants to play Spin the Bottle?"

Harry felt himself getting hot under the collar, and it had nothing to do with the alcohol. If he understood the rules properly, one had to snog with whichever girl the bottle pointed to.

"No way," Pansy said instantly. "I'm not risking having to lock lips with a Malfoy again."

"You should be so lucky," Draco retorted.

"Nor would I wish that on you, Mandy, dear," Pansy continued, as though she hadn't heard. "Surely Goyle meets your satisfaction?"

"Oh, he does. It was just an idea."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

There was some snogging, but it was only between the couples, and it was not excessive. Before long, the bell sounded near-curfew, and the Slytherins had to say good night as the non-Slytherins hurried back to their own common rooms.

* * *

Harry ran on all fours around the small room. He was still having trouble getting used to his tail, but at least he was able to hold his form long enough to run around a bit. According to his watch, his best record was six minutes and thirty-eight seconds.

He rolled over and licked at his tail. Something just felt wrong about the hairs, and he needed to put them back in to place. He was in the middle of that task, bent nearly in two, when he could no longer hold the form and flashed back to his human body.

His spine was not meant to bend that way, and he straightened out with a gasp of pain. Every nerve was tingling, and his fingers were twitching. Harry lay on the floor until he could move without agony and stood up.

It was time to eat breakfast. Harry's rumbling stomach reminded him of this fact most insistently. He made his way up to the Great Hall to join his friends at the Slytherin house table. He nodded a greeting and dug in to the scrambled eggs.

Regal brought up a thick envelope with a letter from Sirius, a letter from Remus, and a seemingly inexplicable bit of spare parchment. He turned the parchment over and over in his hands, wondering what possible use it could be. He opened the letter from Sirius.

Harry shook his head as he finished reading the letter. His godfather was such a goof. Still, might as well use the chance to find out what getting drunk was all about. The sip of strong liquor he'd had on the night of Draco's birthday party had made his head spin for nearly an hour.

The Map was phenomenal. It was perfect. He would be able to negotiate the Maze by foot and get around most of the obstacles in his Animagus form. He would nip in, grab the trophy, nip out again, and have an early supper.

He opened the other letter.

Harry put down the letter and stared at his plate. Sirius wasn't sleeping? He was up all night working on the Map? Harry clenched his fists, suddenly wanting very much to hit whomever had gotten him in to this cursed tournament. How dare they make Sirius worry about him?

Harry worked doubly hard at his practice over the next nine days. He duelled with Draco, Millie, and Jenna now, though he often lost. He pushed his Animagus form even harder, training three times a day if he could. Final exams began, and Harry sat for them, despite being exempt as a Triwizard champion. It wasn't to show off, just that Harry needed to know how much he really understood about the subject material.

Almost before he could believe it, it was the day of the third task. Harry woke up well before his alarm, checked his watch, and sighed. He sat up and wrapped his arms around his knees. Today was the big day. Today he would enter the maze in pursuit of the Triwizard Cup, to become the youngest tournament winner in history. Was he quick enough? Was he strong enough? Was he skilled enough? Was he ready?

Harry quietly gathered his bath things and headed for the bathroom. The spray of the shower made a lot of noise in the empty tiled room. He stepped under the jets of hot water with delight. He meticulously washed every bit, shampooing his hair and conditioning as well. When he was clean, he dried off and wrapped a towel around his waist. He stood at the sink and brushed his teeth, taking quite a bit longer than he normally did.

Back in the dorm, Harry pondered what to wear. Some of those excellent athletic robes sent up by Mrs. Bulstrode would definitely be in order today. He laid out green with silver trim, no sleeves, that reached only to mid-thigh. A pair of black trousers would serve nicely, though perhaps he should wear his dragonskin. There was no telling what he might encounter in the maze.

Nobody was up on a Saturday morning. Harry sat alone at the Slytherin table until he was joined by Jenna, Laine, and Ginny. None of the three girls said much about the task later that day. Harry was glad for that. They talked about the latest gossip concerning Gilderoy Lockhart and the daughter of the Swedish Minister for Magic. Apparently there were some exotic Charms involved, though nobody could really say which ones (thus fuelling the gossip).

Harry was determined to not work himself in to a frenzy of worry. He lounged around the common room playing games with his friends. He had prepared as much as he could. It would have to be enough.

He remained calm through the morning, until Professor Snape approached the table during the mid-day meal. "After lunch, Mister Potter, please report to the antechamber. The families of the champions have been invited to the castle."

Family turned out to mean Sirius, who was delighted to surprise Harry in this fashion. They spent several hours just strolling the grounds. Sirius would tell old stories as locations jarred his memories. Harry offered to show off his Animagus, and Sirius was eager to see his progress. While he was impressed, he cautioned Harry not to wear himself out. He would need all of his strength in the maze. Before it was fair, it was time for dinner. Sirius joined Harry at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall for a grand feast.

Ludo Bagman and Cornelius Fudge had joined the staff table now. Cornelius Fudge looked stern and was not talking. Ludo Bagman seemed oddly subdued, and he didn't speak to those around him. Madame Maxime was concentrating on her plate, and Harry thought her eyes looked red. Hagrid kept glancing along the table at her.

There were more courses than usual, but Harry, who was starting to feel nervous now, didn't eat much. As the enchanted ceiling overhead began to fade from blue to a dusky purple, Dumbledore rose to his feet at the staff table, and silence fell.

"Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mister Bagman down to the stadium now."

This was it. The moment of truth. Destiny had called his name again, and now Harry Potter had to answer. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He could survive the Maze. He might not win, but he would survive. He would strive to his utmost to win -- no Slytherin could do less -- but if his best was not enough, then he would take pride in his two triumphs. He'd been spectacular thusfar, if he were being honest. A combination of good advice and good luck had let him come up tops. Even if he weren't the fastest through the Maze, he would survive it.

Harry stood up.

"Good luck, chum," Draco said seriously.

Jenna squeezed his hand. "Up Slytherin."

Pansy touched his arm. "Good fortune, Harry."

"Be safe, Harry!" Blaise said. She looked like she wanted to say so much more, but he couldn't stay to hear it.

The well-wishes of Slytherin House -- and many Ravenclaws also -- went with him as he headed out of the Great Hall with Diggory, Fleur Delacour, and Viktor. They did not speak as they walked, down onto the Quidditch field, which was now completely unrecognizable. A twenty-foot-high hedge ran all the way around the edge of it. There was a gap right in front of them: the entrance to the vast maze. The passage beyond it looked dark and creepy.

Five minutes later, the stands had begun to fill; the air was full of excited voices and the rumbling of feet as the hundreds of students filed into their seats. The sky was a deep, clear blue now, and the first stars were starting to appear. Professors Hagrid, Moody, McGonagall, and Flitwick came walking into the stadium and approached Bagman and the champions.

They were wearing large, red, luminous stars on their hats, all except Hagrid, who had his on the back of his moleskin vest.

"We are going to be patrolling the outside of the maze," said Professor McGonagall to the champions. "If you get into difficulty and wish to be rescued, send red sparks into the air, and one of us will come and get you, do you understand?"

The champions nodded.

"Off you go, then!" said Bagman to the four patrollers. For someone so excited about the whole tournament, he was certainly controlling himself well.

The four teachers walked away in different directions, to station themselves around the maze. Bagman now pointed his wand at his throat, muttered, "Sonorus," and his magically magnified voice echoed into the stands.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Truly, tonight will go down in history. Currently in first place is Harry Potter of Hogwarts, with ninety-one points!"

Cheers and applause.

"Also of Hogwarts, in second place with seventy-nine points is Cedric Diggory!"

More applause.

"Third place, seventy-seven points, Viktor Krum of Durmstrang Institute!"

More applause.

"Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!"

Harry waved to Sirius.

"On my whistle, Harry!" said Bagman. "Three - two - one -"

He gave a short blast on his whistle, and Harry hurried forward into the maze. The hedge closed behind him, shutting out the roar of the crowd. Eerie silence surrounded him. It was like a forest on any other moonless night, but there were no nighttime sounds heard here. It was a dead silence, not a vibrant darkness teeming with unseen life. It may have well as been on the far side of the moon for all Harry felt completely and utterly alone.

He shoved his fancy to the side and got down to business. He reached in to his pocket for the Map. He drew his wand. "Lumos!" He tapped it the map and ordered, "Show me the way."

A bright silver dot appeared on the parchment, with a green banner that had his name on it. Black walls appeared on three sides, with an arrow pointing in at one of the walls.

"You are here," Harry said, fighting back a chuckle he feared might devolve in to insane laughter. This place was spooking him with its quietness.

There was one more spell he needed to cast. "Point Me to the Triwizard Cup!"

A glowing chalice appeared on his Map. It would have to do.

"Come on, feet."

After about fifty yards, he reached a fork. Harry took the left one and heard Bagman's whistle for the second time. Diggory had entered the maze. Harry sped up. The whistle blew again. Viktor was in now too. Harry's chosen path seemed completely deserted. He turned right, and hurried on, holding his wand high that he might see as far ahead as possible. Still, there was nothing in sight. Bagman's whistle blew in the distance for the fourth time. All of the champions were now inside. May the best wizard (or witch) win.

* * *

Harry had done well for himself. He'd been a credit to Slytherin House and to Hogwarts. He'd beaten the dementor with a Patronus Charm, only to realize that it was really a boggart. He'd been unable to answer the Sphinx's riddle, so he'd ducked around a corner and transformed. The guardian had taken no notice of the small, brown mammal, and Harry had scurried by without challenge. One of Hagrid's Skrewts had posed the most trouble, and Harry had needed to resort to indirect magic to trap it. He'd fought through disorientation spells, walls of flame that suddenly sprang up around him, and fierce howling winds. He'd been in the maze for nearly two hours, according to his pocket watch. It felt like so much longer. He jumped at every sound, because the place was so artificially silent. Sounds meant trouble. There was lots of trouble in the maze.

The way ahead was blocked by large wooden spikes. They were covered with scorch marks, as though someone had tried to burn through them and had failed. Harry melted in to his Animagus form and dashed towards the barrier. He nimbly ran around the spikes and through the space between them. On the other side, he changed back. He staggered a bit, placing one hand on the wall to steady himself. He wouldn't be able to do it that many more times. Already his bones were aching.

At the end of the row, Harry was forced to make a right turn. He peered around the corner and saw a glowing light. His heart leapt in to his throat. Could this be it? Had he made it through?

The path to the cup was long. Harry could nearly smell the trap. He tucked the Map away and summoned up three spheres of burning flame by which to both see and defend himself. With a deep breath, Harry stepped around the corner. He moved forward cautiously, eyes alert to any movement.

Rather than a monster or a riddle to solve, even now when he was approaching the finish, the maze decided to show Harry a new trick. Vines burst out from the walls around him. Harry swore in surprise and cast quick Incendio Curses to burn them away, but more kept coming. Harry waved his wand, directing the flaming spheres towards the sources of the vines. That worked for a second, and Harry ran for it.

The vines chased him, clutching at his arms, legs, and feet. He stumbled many times and nearly fell, but Harry burst through the grasping tendrils of the hedge and in to the clearing. The Triwizard Cup sat on a stone plinth in the middle, glowing softly, the only source of light in the darkness.

The vines waved angrilly from the maze, but they did not follow him. It seemed he really was at the finish. Might as well go get the cup and get out of here. Harry was on guard as he moved slowly towards the cup. Surely it couldn't be this simple.

Diggory burst out of the maze across the clearing. He began to run towards the cup, but Harry sent a Leg-Locker in his direction. Diggory slowed up.

"Potter," Diggory said. "Good show, yeah? But I'm afraid this is where it ends for you."

"I'm ready for you," Harry replied.

Over Diggory's shoulder, Harry saw Viktor emerge from the maze and raise his wand.

"Look out!" he shouted, and Diggory dove to the ground without hesitation. The jet of blue light passed harmlessly over his head.

"Thanks," Diggory said as he turned towards the new threat. He began to exchange spells with Viktor.

Now was his chance. While they were occupied, Harry could snag the cup.

Halfway to the stone plinth, Harry was forced to dodge as a pale white spell flew at him. He looked for the source, and Fleur Delacour stepped out of the bushes.

They wasted no words, not even to exchange insults. It would be foolish bravado to engage in verbal oneupsmanship. The time for speeches was over, and now only action mattered.

Harry began with several minor spells designed more to distract his opponent than incapacitate. It was a tactic he had learned from Tim. Itching Hexes, Tickling Charms, and Tripping Jinxes all worked to irritate and unbalance an enemy.

Fleur knew a fancy shield, because she blocked all of the spells with jabbing motions of her wand. She parried a Boils Hex back at Harry, who had to roll out of the way. She followed up with a spell in French that Harry blocked with Protego. He hadn't counted on not being able to understand her. How good was her English? Or rather, her Latin?

Very good, it turned out. She knew the right counters to all of the spells he cast. He had to rely on the Protego Shield, which was far more tiring than countering a specific spell. That was why it was so important to know about spells. Harry wished he had thought to learn a Translation Charm.

He couldn't out-duel her. That much was clear to him in the first few minutes. She was the best Beauxbatons had to offer. She had been trampled by a dragon and dragged in to the depths of the lake by grindylows, but she was no slouch at her wand-work. Her movements were precise, her hands sure and steady. A steady stream of syllables rolled off her tongue, and the blasts of coloured light were giving Harry a steady workout to avoid. He couldn't keep this up forever. He couldn't cast as fast as her and dodging would only work until he made a mistake.

Harry cast another Protego Shield to give himself time to work. He needed to be creative. Transfiguration? Why not? With a wave, the ground beneath Fleur's feet turned to ice. He thrust out his wand in a stabbing motion and thought as hard as he could: Push!

Fleur couldn't block the sheer force of the blast, and she slipped on the ice and fell to the ground. She landed on her wand arm, and Harry heard a bone snap. She choked back a cry of pain. Resolutely, she picked up her wand with the other hand and struck again.

Harry was amazed at her tenacity. He hadn't realized she had such heart. That determined look in her eye was downright scary.

Fleur wasn't as good with her left hand, and Harry got lucky as she miscast her shield and got hit with his Stunner. She crumpled to the ground. Harry, breathing heavy, didn't even have the wind to gloat.

Viktor and Diggory were going at it with no spells barred. Harry had never seen any older students duel properly, and he was impressed. Viktor's face was ugly as he stabbed at Diggory repeatedly with dark spells that looked plain nasty. Diggory seemed completely confident, his face serious but unworried, as he parried Viktor's curses with not a single wasted motion. He interlaced his own replies, scoring many near-hits through Viktor's weakening shields.

Harry couldn't look away. He knew somewhere that he should be making a grab for the Triwizard Cup or hexing the both of them, but he couldn't look away. The back and forth, the clash of curse and shield, hex and counter-hex, was hypnotic to watch. They were magnificent.

It was the Banishing Curse that broke through at last, sending Viktor soaring in to the air and back halfway to the starting point. Harry applauded the win; it had been a fantastic duel, even the little he'd witnessed.

"Well done," he called out. He was genuinely impressed with Diggory's tenacity. He would be tough to beat.

Diggory turned quickly, almost as if he'd been expecting a hex in the back. He approached swiftly, brandishing his wand in front of him. He and Harry faced off.

"Looks like it's down to you and me," Diggory said. He had a hard expression on his face. Harry wondered what he had faced in the Maze. Diggory was all business.

"Looks like." By Merlin, were they really going to talk? Should he strike first, when Diggory wasn't expecting it? Maybe try to talk him out of it. "At least Hogwarts gets the win, right?"

"Sure. If you say so. Are you ready?" Diggory asked.

"If you are." So much for talking him out of it.

The duel began. It was easier to fight Diggory, because all his spells were in Latin, which Harry understood. He knew the right counters to many hexes, which let him save his energy when defending. Unfortunately, that also worked in reverse.

"You're pretty good, Potter," Diggory grunted as he dodged a Stunner. "You've been training this year."

"Of course." Harry rolled out of the way of a Tripping Jinx paired with a Spinning Jinx.

"I'll offer you one last chance to walk away."

"Funny, I was going to offer you the same thing." Dear Merlin, his flip tongue would be the death of him.

"What?"

"I seem to recall that you owe me a favour."

"Do I?"

"How did you know how to prepare for the dragons, Diggory?" It was a longshot, but maybe Harry could prey on the Hufflepuff's innate sense of fairness.

Diggory made a face. "You told me about them."

"That's right. And I don't know that you've done anything for me in return."

"And you want me to forfeit?" Diggory seemed incredulous.

"You've gotten second place. It's not like I'm asking you to drop out entirely."

"There's no glory for second place."

"Now you're talking like a Slytherin."

They exchanged a few more spells.

"This is futile, Diggory. We have the same teachers."

"I know more spells than you. I'm stronger than you."

Harry knew that to be true. "I'm sneakier than you. And you owe me. Would you have gotten past the dragon without knowing about it first?"

"I could have! Besides, it was only fair! Krum and Delacour knew!"

It had been only fair. That was why Harry had done it in the first place. But Diggory didn't need to know that. Besides, while they had been duelling, Harry had been circling around and was now very close to the stone plinth.

"Fair or not, tonight, the prize goes to the Slytherin!"

Harry turned and ran, covering the remaining ten yards in seconds. Diggory, too surprised to react properly, missed with his Disarming Charm.

Harry leaped for the Cup and grasped it with both hands -- and felt the unmistakable jerk of a Portkey yank him in to the ether.

to be continued...