“Exam time,” said Ginny with a sigh.

“Does anyone know that exams are evil?” mumbled Niamh through her Transfiguration book.

Hermione looked indignant at that and cried, “They are not! Exams let you see how far along you are!”

“Halfway to hell,” muttered Ron, earning a glare from the bushy-haired girl.

Harry laughed at the two of them then happened to look out the window to see Blaise down on the grounds – talking into his hand.

Curioser and curioser…

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

On the morning of the third task, Niamh exploded. She had just unrolled her copy of the Daily Prophet when it happened.

“That stupid, psycho bi…barnacle!”

Ginny spat pumpkin juice all over her plate and Harry paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. Both stared at the girl before Harry spoke.

“Psycho barnacles?”

“Are you okay?” asked Ginny.

Niamh simply sputtered incoherently and shoved the paper at Harry’s chest. The teen blinked and took the paper, eyes darkening when he saw the headline.

Harry Potter

“Disturbed and Dangerous”

The boy who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is unstable and possibly dangerous, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Alarming evidence has recently come to light about Harry Potter’s strange behavior, which casts doubts upon his suitability to compete in a demanding competition like the Triwizard Tournament, or even to attend Hogwarts School.

Potter, the Daily Prophet can exclusively reveal, regularly collapses at school, and is often heard to complain of pain in the scar on his forehead (relic of the curse with which You-Know-Who attempted to kill him). It is now known that Potter collapsed in his dormitory, complaining later that his scar had hurt him.

Experts at St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries say that it is possible that Potter’s brain was affected by the attack inflicted upon him by You-Know-Who, and that his insistence that the scar is still hurting is an expression of his deep-seated confusion. He might even be pretending.

“Potter can speak Parseltongue,” reveals Pansy Parkinson, a Hogwarts fourth year and a Housemate of Potter. “He’s even got a snake that he talks to. We’ve all seen it.”

Parseltongue, the ability to converse with snakes, has long been considered a Dark Art. The most famous Parselmouth of our time is none other than You-Know-Who himself. Many would consider anyone who converses with snakes suspicious, as snakes are often used in the worst kinds of Dark Magic.

Albus Dumbledore should surely consider whether a boy such as this should be allowed to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. Some fear that Potter might resort to the Dark Arts in his desperation to win the tournament, the third task of which takes place this very evening.

“Well,” said Harry, folding the paper. “That was an interesting read.”

“She ought to be skinned alive,” growled Niamh. “Think we could get away with it?”

Harry gave the girl a bland look in response.

“I thought you’d say that,” sighed Niamh.

Across the table Ginny asked, “How’d she know about your scar hurting? No one’s been saying anything about it around school.”

“They are now,” muttered Niamh.

“But how could she have known? About any of that stuff’s she’s written?”

“Muggles use things to bug people, to listen in on their conversations,” said Niamh. “Maybe there’s a magical equivalent.”

“Bugging” murmured Ginny. She then looked at Harry and snapped her fingers.

“I think I know.”

Harry frowned at her then seemed to catch on.

“You don’t think she…”

“Yep.”

“What?” asked Niamh, looking confused.

“Just a theory,” said Ginny. “But…if she did. Oh, if she did, we’ve got her! We’ve got her!”

“Get Mione to help you research,” said Harry.

“Right.”

“Niamh glared at the two of them and cried, “What are you two going on about?”

Harry grinned at her and replied, “You’ll see if Gin’s right, don’t worry. Want to help me get a little practice in before the task?”

“Sure. Hey, here comes Professor Snape.”

Harry looked up and saw that his father was indeed heading towards them.

“Potter, the champions are congregating in the chamber off the Hall after breakfast. The champions’ families are invited to watch the final task. This is simply a chance for you to greet them.”

Harry nodded and said, “Thank you, professor.”

Snape nodded , smiled in an apologetic sort of way, then returned to his place at the staff table.

“What was that smile about,” asked Niamh quietly after the attention had fallen away from them.

“His way of saying ‘good luck’ and ‘I’m sorry I can’t be waiting for you out there’,” answered Harry. “The real question is who is waiting out there for me?”

Niamh nodded then waved at Cedric as he rose and cross the Hall. He grinned at her and waved back before he disappeared.

Harry watched as Fleur followed him before he rose and went as well, Krum rising from further down the Slytherin table at the same time.

As he entered the room, he saw Cedric talking to his parents and fleur talking to her mother in French on the other side of the room. Her little sister Gabrielle waved at him and he waved back before he was suddenly wrapped in a hug.

“Harry, dear, how are you?”

“Fine, Mrs. Weasley,” said Harry. He then saw Bill grinning at him and asked, “What are you two doing here?”

“We wanted to surprise you,” replied Mrs. Weasley, releasing him and moving to stand by her eldest son.

Harry chuckled and said, “I’m definitely surprised. I really wasn’t expecting anyone to be back here.”

Mrs. Weasley smiled at him and said, “Of course we’d be here, dear. Your like a part of our family.”

Harry looked taken aback by that for a moment then he said, “Thanks, Mrs. Weasley.”

“Your very welcome, dear. Now…how about a little tour? I haven’t seen this castle in years.”

“Alright,” said Harry, leading them off.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Harry had the perfect morning walking around the grounds with Mrs. Weasley and Bill. It calmed him exceedingly, as he was just a little nervous about the third task. Who knew what Hagrid was going to have in that maze?

“How’s Percy?” asked Harry, remembering him filling in for Crouch during the Yule Ball, as they headed back to the castle for lunch.

“Absolutely batty,” replied Bill, earning a stern look from his mother.

“He’s very upset,” said Mrs. Weasley, lowering her voice slightly. “The Ministry wants to keep Mr. Crouch’s disappearance quiet, but Percy’s been hauled in several times for questioning about the instructions he’s been sending in; something about them not really being written by him.”

“They’re not letting him fill in for him as the fifth judge tonight either,” said Bill.

“So who’s doing?” asked Harry as they went up the steps into the entrance hall.

“Cornelius Fudge,” replied Mrs. Weasley before she waved at Ron as he and Hermione came down the marble staircase.

“Mum – Bill! What’re you doing here?” asked the ginger-haired boy as he walked over to join them, Hermione right behind him.

“We came to watch Harry in the last task!” said Mrs. Weasley with a smile. She then frowned as Ginny popped up from the dungeons and sighed, “Oh how I wish I could see the old common room again. I wonder how its changed…”

“The Gryffindor common room?” said Ron.

Mrs. Weasley gave her youngest son an odd look.

“Heavens no! The Slytherin common room.”

Ron keeled over in shock while Ginny crowed, “I told you Mum might have been a Slytherin!”

Mrs. Weasley smiled and said, “All the girls in my family have been Slytherins for years. I’d have been disappointed if my daughter hadn’t gotten in!”

“Then why was Das so angry when I got there? And why did he ask if I wanted to be resorted?” asked Ginny.

“Because your father’s family has always been in Gryffindor. I was the first Slytherin to marry into it and you are the first Slytherin born into it.”

“Good show, Gin,” said Harry with a grin. “Where’s Ni?”

Ginny replied, “Oh, Cedric drug her off to meet his parents. Now let’s go eat! I’m starved!”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

After lunch Harry, Bill, and Mrs. Weasley whiled away the afternoon by walking around the castle and Harry made sure it ended with enough time for Mrs. Weasley to take a look at the Slytherin common room before they headed back upstairs for the evening feast.

Ludo Bagman and Cornelius Fudge were already at the staff table when they arrived and Harry swore it looked like Madame Maxime had been crying. He also noticed Hagrid continually sneaking glances down the table at her and had to wonder what had happened.

Mrs. Weasley, to Harry’s surprise, came and sat with him and Ginny at the Slytherin table. They were joined a little time into dinner by a glowing Niamh, who beamed brightly at all of them then dug ravenously into her food.

As the enchanted ceiling showed the sky turning from orange and red to the blue and deep violet of twilight, Dumbledore rose to his feet and a tense silence overtook the Hall.

“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 Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now.”

Ginny, Mrs. Weasley, Amanda, Thomas, and Niamh wished Harry luck as he rose. As he walked down the table, Draco gave him a rather discreet thumbs-up, causing Harry to wonder if Draco had really been serious when he’d said those things some time ago. He’d been rather cautious about his ‘friendship’ with the other boy, not only because he still remembered the insults and – most of all – Hedwig’s death in his first year. But perhaps it could really work…

Turning his head away from the Slytherin table, Harry followed Krum and Fleur out of the Hall. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cedric kissing Niamh. Wolf-whistles followed the Hufflepuff out of the Hall and he was blushing slightly when he came to stand beside Harry.

They walked out onto the Quidditch pitch, which was now surrounded by a twenty-foot high hedge. A gap opened right in front of them, revealing the beginning of a vast maze.

As the stands began to fill, Harry tightened the straps on his wand-sheath, loosing the two straps that secured his wand slightly. He then turned with the other champions to watch as Hagrid, McGonagall, Moody, and Flitwick walked towards them. All of them were wearing bright red stars on their hats except for Hagrid, who was on the back of his moleskin vest.

“We’re going to be patrolling the outside of the maze,” said McGonagall. “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 and Bagman cried, “Off you go, then!”

Harry headed around the maze, stationing himself in one spot like the other three.

“Sonorus! Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand: in first place, Mr. Harry Potter with eighty-nine points, one of our two Hogwarts champions. In second place, with eighty-three points – Mr. Cedric Diggory, also of Hogwarts School. In third place, with eighty-two points – Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute. And in fourth place, with sixty-seven points – Miss Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons Academy.”

“So, on my whistle, Harry! Three – two – one - ”

The whistle blew sharply and Harry sprinted into the maze, hearing Bagman’s second whistle signal Cedric to enter the maze a minute later. He ran on up to a fork and turned right, Bagman’s third whistle barely reaching his ears through the tall hedges.

As the sky grew darker, casting the maze into deeper shadow, he drew his wand and lit it, carefully moving forward, keeping his back to a hedge at all times.

As he rounded a corner, he came face to face with a dementor. Hurriedly summoning a memory of the summer he’d spent with his father at Hogwarts, he cried, “Expecto Patronum!”

The silver Darcorn erupted from his wand and charged the dementor, which fell back, stumbled over its robes. As the Darcorn circled back to stand beside Harry, he pointed his wand at the “dementor” and yelled, “Riddikulus!”

The boggart vanished in a puff of smoke and the Darcorn faded with it. As Harry walked on, he wished the real Darcorn were beside him. Or even Jardin. Or Hedwig. But shrugging, he ran on, pausing once to do the Four-Point Spell that Hermione had found and forced him to learn.

As he backtracked from a dead-end, Cedric nearly plowed into him. The older boy’s face was covered in soot and the sleeve of his robe was smoking.

“Hagrid’s Blast-Ended Skrewts!” he croaked as Harry arched an eyebrow at him. “They’re huge!”

He then dived out of sight down another path. Harry shook his head after him then did the Four-Point Spell again, heading in the direction it pointed.

As he rounded a corner, he heard a shrill scream from somewhere in another part of the maze. “Fleur,” he whispered and ran on – right into a Blast-Ended Skrewt.

Cedric had been right. It was huge; ten feet long with a long sting curved over its back like a scorpions venomous tail.

Harry took a step back from it, trying to think of a spell that would get through the skrewt’s armor. As he thought, the skrewt let loose a gout of fire from its end and shot towards him. He threw himself to the side, pointed his wand at the skrewt’s underbelly and cried, “Gelo!”

The curse missed its target and bounced off the skrewt’s armor. Harry dodged it as it came ricocheting back at him and aimed his wand at the creature again.

“Caecus!”

This spell struck the skrewt directly in its left eye, causing both of them to glow golden for a moment before it began to stumble around bellowing. Harry grinned and shot away down the left path. As he continued on, he heard something coming from the path parallel to his own

“What the hell are you doing?”

Harry turned towards the hedge and had just raised his wand when he heard Krum’s voice.

“Crucio!”

Cedric screamed and Harry roared, “Comburo!”

Fire roared out of his wand and struck the hedge, burning a large circle in it. Harry leapt through.

And plowed right into Krum.

The Durmstrang champion went down under Harry with a grunt as the younger boy slammed into him with all of his weight. Before they’d even hit the ground, Harry had sheathed his wand and was ripping into Krum with his fists.

“You…bastard!” growled the Slytherin as he slugged Krum across the nose, effectively breaking it and knocking him unconscious at the same time. He rolled off of him and looked over at Cedric, who was sitting up and wincing.

“You alright?” breathed Harry.

“Yeah,” gasped Cedric. “He crept up behind me… I turned around and he had his wand on me…”

Harry’s eyes hardened and he scowled at Krum’s unconscious form.

“Bastard. I should have cast something painful on him.”

Cedric looked at the younger boy for a moment then grunted, “C’mon. Let’s get out of here and send up the red sparks.”

Harry snorted and rose to his feet, drawing his wand and shooting the sparks up into the air. He then turned and extended a hand to Cedric, pulling him to his feet.

“That takes care of that,” said the dark-haired teen.

“Yeah,” said Cedric. “I suppose we’d better go on…”

“Yeah,” said Harry. He eyed Krum menacingly once more then turned and headed off down one of the paths. Cedric’s footsteps faded away as he headed on.

As he walked, he wondered if Krum had been mad enough after the Cup to use an Unforgivable. There was a reason they were called the Unforgivables after all.

His train of thought was interrupted when the beam of light issuing from his wand fell upon a pair of heavily clawed paws. He lifted his eyes and saw that the creature he was facing now was a sphinx, its body that of a lion with a woman’s head.

She paced in front of him, blocking the path. Then she spoke.

“You are near you goal.”

“The quickest way is past you,” said Harry, “but I have to answer your riddle first.”

The sphinx smiled and purred, “Smart human. Answer correctly and you may pass. Answer wrongly and I attack.”

Harry nodded and the sphinx recited:

“First thing of the person who lives in disguise,

Who deals in secrets and tells naught but lies.

Next, tell me what’s always the last thing to 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?”

Harry frowned in thought then said, “Well, I wouldn’t want to kiss a dementor, but that’s not the answer.”

The sphinx simply smiled at him.

“Someone in disguise who lies…” He snapped his fingers and said, “A spy, of course.”

Harry frowned and continued, “I don’t know what the ‘middle of middle’ is but…”

It suddenly hit him and he hissed, “It’s a spider!”

The sphinx nodded and moved aside, allowing him to pass. He bowed slightly towards her then ran on down the path.

Using the Four-Point Spell again, he was soon facing the Triwizard Cup. As he walked towards it, Cedric barreled out from a path in front of him and yelled, “Harry! It’s a basilisk!”

Harry saw the huge serpent coming after Cedric and wondering what in Slytherin’s name someone was thinking putting that creature of all creatures in the maze.

“Behind me!” yelled Harry to Cedric then turned towards the basilisk, throwing up an arm to cover his eyes.

“Stop!” he yelled in Parseltongue.

The basilisk stopped and hissed, “Why should I follow your orders, little human?”

“I speak your language!” replied Harry. “And I know the way out.”

“Tell me more,” hissed the basilisk, dipping its head towards him.

Harry pointed towards the Forbidden Forest and said, “Go there. But don’t hurt anyone.”

“I just want out.”

“That’s it? You want out?”

“Don’t we all,” whispered Cedric.

Harry glanced over his shoulder at the other boy then said to the basilisk, “Then go. And don’t harm anyone.”

“Hmm,” said the basilisk. It turned and headed back down the path. Harry lowered his arm then turned to grin at Cedric. Sometimes it helps to be a Parselmouth.”

Cedric laughed and said, “You’ll have to teach me some of it. Then I’ll be ready next time.”

“Deal.”

The two of them laughed then realized where they stood. They looked at the gleaming cup then at each other.

“You take it,” said Harry. “You’re the only one of the two of us who should actually be in the tournament.”

“Y’know,” said Cedric, “this is one of those times when I wonder how you ever got in Slytherin.”

“Just take the cup,” said Harry, sheathing his wand.

“No deal.”

“Cedric – take the damn cup.”

“No,” stated Cedric stonily.

Harry scowled and said, “You’re a stubborn ass-hole, you know.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Harry glared at him and Cedric said, “Let’s just take it together. We’ll tie and it’ll still be a Hogwarts victory.”

The Slytherin looked at the Hufflepuff’s face and sighed.

“You won’t take it without me, will you?”

“Not a chance in hell.”

“I had a feeling you were going to say that.”

Cedric grinned and Harry smiled in return.

“On three, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“One - ”

“ - two - ”

In the stands, Niamh suddenly let out a shriek and clutched her head. A moment later she was on her feet, blue eyes wide.

“ - three!”

Harry and Cedric each grasped a handle on the cup and Harry instantly knew something was wrong. There was a familiar tug behind his navel and he was jerked off his feet, drawn into the Triwizard Cup, Cedric at his side.

In the stands Niamh screamed, “HARRY! CEDRIC!”