"I cannot fucking believe you forgot you had a house elf," Tracey grumbled against his chest. She reached between his legs and squeezed his softening cock painfully.
"I said I was sorry! He doesn't really belong to me. He's a friend."
She released him and wiped the slick results of their most recent encounter on his stomach.
"I don't care. You suck. If you didn't know how to use your cock so well, I'd hex it off."
Just as Harry had predicted, Tracey was quite irritated to learn that they could have been using a bed all this time. He hadn't really enjoyed fucking on the floor either. It just hadn't occurred to him that Dobby could solve the problem.
"What can I do to make it up you?"
She rested her chin on his chest and looked up at him, her brown eyes glinting. "Hmmm. Maybe I could tie you to this bed and torture you. You deserve it."
"I wouldn't complain too much, as long as there are no unforgivables involved."
"What about whips?"
"Er, no permanent marks?"
She smirked. "No deal. I'll wait and get my Slytherin revenge when you least expect it. I want my pound of flesh."
He snorted. "Get in line."
It was a testament to his mood that he didn't make any jokes about pounds of flesh. He had been increasingly stressed out as the third task approached, and not just because of the inherent dangers of the tasks. Even Tracey had noticed.
"Do you really think you'll be in that much danger?"
"I haven't told you about all my adventures here. We'll be lucky if a meteor doesn't obliterate Hogwarts that day."
"I'm sure you'll be fine. You'll do something incredibly Gryffindorish and save the day."
"Let's hope."
Tracey rested her cheek on his chest again and absently played with his cock, flicking it back and forth with her finger. She wasn't a fan of the angsty version of Harry. But she had grown to care for him, and didn't like the idea of him putting himself in even more danger. No one would ever forget what he looked like after the second task. She shoved aside her instinct to mock him for his grim predictions.
"Daphne really enjoyed herself the other day," she said.
"So you've said. Did she tell you every detail?"
He felt her grin against his chest. "Of course."
"I hadn't realized you were telling her everything about us."
"She needed some vicarious fun. When are you meeting her again?"
"This weekend."
She gently squeezed his balls. "I'm coaching her on how to give you a blowjob."
He laughed. "Oh, Merlin."
"I'm telling her to bite. Really hard."
Somehow, he couldn't imagine Daphne Greengrass giving anyone a blowjob. Then again, until a few days ago he couldn't have imagined seeing her naked. Nor that she would have sought him out to take her virginity. The tenderness of their encounter had surprised him. Once the cold formalities were out of the way, he found himself more and more sympathetic to her situation. Her frosty demeanor made a lot more sense.
"You don't mind sharing me with her?" he asked curiously. He had wondered if Tracey would be a little jealous, even though she had arranged the liaison with Daphne in the first place.
"Not at all. You're just a Gryffindor. Little more than a breathing sex toy, really."
"Okay, that's it."
Harry smacked her ass and then rolled on top of her, pinning her to the bed with his weight.
She just laughed and squirmed beneath him. "Insults get you hard? I'll have to remember that."
He smiled and kissed her, not for the first time wishing that Tracey was in the Pride. But that would remove some of the fun from their illicit activities.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
With little more than a week to go before the third task, Harry was feeling increasingly anxious. He had a difficult time paying attention in class, much preferring to let off steam in the Room of Requirement. Hermione didn't train with him when he was in a particularly irritable mood. He tended to obliterate the dummies so thoroughly that they had a difficult time reforming.
At night, he walked the halls only under the protection of his cloak, aware that the Slytherins might take another shot at him. They seemed cowed after their quidditch loss, but it was hard to tell how much of an effect his words would have on Malfoy.
The members of the Pride could sense his mood too. Katie, in particular, tried to get him to loosen up. She sat him down and teased his cock with her tongue, bringing him to the edge of release, only to stop. After half an hour of such torture, she deepthroated him and squeezed until he exploded down her throat.
Even her best efforts—and those of several other girls—failed to fully distract him. He appreciated their attempts, but they didn't understand that the third task was about more than the stress of competition.
Tonight, he was with Fleur again. He was so distracted that she fully overpowered him with her allure, forcing him to bathe her feet with his tongue. When he failed to put up the slightest resistance, she grew bored and reined in her abilities.
Now she was licking his cock like a lollipop, her purple tongue pleasuring his entire length as she tried to remove his stone-faced expression. She was succeeding. He couldn't resist a smile as he watched her tease him with the most delightfully seductive eyes. Her allure was radiating a gentle comfort, unlike anything he'd felt from her.
Fleur rarely sucked his cock, at least not to completion. It was always to prepare him for another round of competition. This was different. She was being overtly sensual, slobbering on him and teasing his crown, all while making eye contact. It was an intentional act of submission and solace, and he tried to revel in the moment.
She took his head in her mouth and suckled gently, grinning as it throbbed against her tongue. Her grip on his shaft grew firm, and she stroked him with obvious intent. Her soft lips engulfed him in a kiss, retreated slowly to his tip, and then repeated the motion. She never looked away from his eyes.
It might be the most intimate moment they'd shared together. The sex between them was usually vigorous and athletic, like a game that each was trying to win. They were certainly friends now, but she rarely treated him with tenderness. He doubted that she would have given him the time of day outside the unique circumstances they found themselves in. Still, he cared for her, and very much appreciated the show of affection she was giving him at the moment.
She kneaded his balls and stroked him harder as his orgasm built.
"Where do you want to finish, 'Arry?"
"On your face," he answered instantly.
She glared at him for a moment. She had never allowed him to do that, perhaps because it wasn't in her nature to be submissive.
"Just zis once, for good luck in ze final task."
Harry could hardly contain his anticipation as she tugged harder and pointed him at her face. Fleur closed her eyes, and he groaned as his cock pulsed in her hand and shot burst after burst of thick stripes onto her face. She moved him around, allowing him to coat her thoroughly from forehead to chin. He panted with each shot, absolutely delighted at the glistening mess he was making of her.
When he was finished, she looked at him through dark eyelashes that dripped with his cum. Her tongue darted out to remove a glob that was sliding down her lip.
"Did you enjoy zat, leetle boy?"
"Very much, French girl."
"Good, because when I beat you in ze task, I will make you grovel before me, in front of all my peers, and admit zat ze French are superior."
He laughed. "You can try."
She made a show of dragging her finger along her face to collect his cum, then suckled it between her lips. She held out a finger for him to lick, but he shook his head.
"No, that was a gift from England to you."
She snorted and continued wiping herself until her beautiful face was clean.
"Thank you, Fleur," he said. "I know what you're doing for me tonight. But about the tournament—I want you to be very, very careful, okay? This is not about the task. You know Voldemort is trying to return, and there's a big target on my back. I don't want to see you get hurt in the crossfire."
"I am a much stronger witch above water. I will be fine. But zank you for your concern, and for being my playmate in zis place."
"Believe me, it was my pleasure."
"I'm certain it was."
She raised herself above his prone form, giving him a close-up view of her perfect, glistening folds. A little drop of liquid was suspended between them. It never ceased to thrill him that he could arouse a veela.
"Now zat we 'ave stated ze obvious, it is time for you to do what your tongue was made to do."
"Let me guess: licking French cunts."
Fleur treated him to a gorgeous smile. "You are smarter zan you look, 'Arry."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Harry folded his Champion's uniform and laid it neatly across his trunk. Something big was coming tomorrow. He could feel it approaching like the Hogwarts Express. Some catastrophe always happened at the end of the year, and it usually had Voldemort's fingerprints all over it. He had been able to handle them so far. Could he handle this one?
Dumbledore had called him to his office earlier, both to assure him that the third task would be safe and to wish him luck. Relations between them had been distant since the second task. But Harry knew he meant well, and hoped that more friendly terms could be restored after the tournament. He would need the old man in his corner if he wished to spend time with Sirius this summer.
He was as ready as he could be, he supposed. His training had gone well, and he knew more or less what to expect from the task. Unfortunately, he also knew to expect the unexpected.
Harry had warned the other champions that something bad would likely happen—had even told them to steer clear of him when it did, lest they put themselves in mortal danger. Cedric, of course, had been insulted, considering such behavior to be a disgrace to Hufflepuff honor. Hopefully the boy's sense of loyalty wouldn't get him killed.
Students outside the Pride had given him a wide berth this week. He had been unconsciously glaring at everyone he met. Even Ron had the good sense not to pester him too much. Hermione gave him worried looks when she thought he wasn't looking.
Neither of them had visited the Pride in the past two days. The atmosphere there was somewhat tense. OWL and NEWT exams were set to begin, and the older students were too preoccupied to take much pleasure in sex.
He looked at his watch. Still three hours to curfew. He had nothing better to do than brood, and that was pointless. Perhaps a little time with Hermione would take the edge off his mood.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
A half hour later, he was lying in bed next to her, tucked away in the alcove above the Pride. Their clothes hadn't come off, and he wasn't sure they would. Both were too anxious.
Right now, he much preferred the quiet simplicity of her company. The tournament had begun with just the two of them working together. It felt right that it should conclude the same way. So much had changed since October, but nothing had altered their dedication to each other. Even joining a literal sex club had brought them closer together rather than pulling them apart.
She ran her fingers through his hair, appreciating the calm silence as much as he. Her labors were finished too. There was nothing left to do but hope they had been enough.
"How are you feeling?" she asked softly.
"Like an electric fence."
"What does that mean?"
"I dunno. That's what popped into my head. Like I'm calm and confident, but also scared out of my mind and ready to electrocute someone."
"Let's go with 'cautiously optimistic' instead. I prefer that."
He snorted.
"You better come back in one piece tomorrow, Harry. You're not allowed to get injured. Not after all the work I've put into you."
"No promises."
"Harry."
"I'll try. You know my relationship with trouble. She follows me around like she's a niffler and I'm made of gold."
She snuggled into him and draped a leg over his. "I just don't ever want to see you covered in blood again. Promise me you won't hesitate to fight dirty if someone attacks you."
"Hermione Granger is encouraging me to be underhanded?"
"I don't care if you have to stomp all over a litter of kittens. Just get out of that maze alive. It's nerve-wracking not being able to help."
"I'm as ready as I can be, in large part thanks to you."
He pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head.
"Heard anything more out of Fay?" he asked, in an effort to lighten the mood.
Hermione huffed. "Yes. She made a joke yesterday."
"A joke?"
"I was potting a bubotuber in Herbology. She walked by my station and told me not to put my hand too deep in the soil."
Harry burst out laughing, and she smacked his chest.
"It's not funny."
"Yes, it is! Oh, Merlin."
"You wouldn't be saying that if Neville caught you shagging Seamus and Dean."
"Well, I wouldn't shag Seamus and Dean anyway."
"That's not the point."
He eventually gained control of his mirth. He still found the drama surrounding her encounter with Fay Dunbar to be hilarious.
"I don't think she's going to say anything, Hermione. She's just teasing you. She already promised to keep her mouth shut."
"I hope so."
"It'll be fine. I haven't heard a single rumor."
She gently squeezed his crotch. "Want to have some comfort sex?"
"Hmmm. You could probably talk me into it. Just keep your fist away from my bum."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Harry looked at the gathered Champions. They were his friends now, odd as that may seem. He had grown closer to each of them over the past months, and their journey was almost over. Each had smiled and shaken hands a moment ago, a gesture of good will that had been absent from the first task. They treated him as an equal, and he was proud to feel that he belonged in their midst.
In a few seconds he and Cedric would enter the maze. Krum and Fleur would follow soon after. Harry didn't care who won the damned thing. He just hoped they would all make it out alive. He had no faith whatsoever in Dumbledore's assurances that the final task would be safe.
The atmosphere in the crowd was electric. Hundreds of people were gathered in the quidditch stands to watch. He wasn't sure why. The hedges were so high that they wouldn't be able to see any of the action.
Bagman gave his final instructions and then raised his wand. A loud boom echoed across the stadium. Harry and Cedric entered the labyrinth at a run and separated at the first turn, acknowledging each other with a nod of the head.
He crept cautiously forward, mindful of surprise traps from whoever had entered him in the tournament. Just being surrounded by such high hedges was creepy, especially at dusk. He encountered nothing at all in the first five minutes, no matter which direction he took. That only increased his anxiety.
In the next ten minutes, he encountered a boggart, which he handled easily, and one of Hagrid's skrewts. Thank Merlin he had been able to study the creatures. He managed to bypass it with only a charred sleeve. So far everything had been disconcertingly easy.
A female scream suddenly pierced the air. It had to be Fleur. It sounded far away and to his right. He turned and unleashed multiple blasting curses against the nearest hedgerow. They withered against his onslaught, but regrew instantly. Fire didn't work either, no matter how long he held the spell.
Harry cursed whoever devised this task. Even if he managed to blast through the hedges, they shifted constantly. There was no way to know if he was going in the proper direction. He heard no more sounds in the distance, and tried to take comfort in that. Fleur was a formidable witch or she wouldn't be in the tournament.
Shaking off visions of her body being mutilated by Death Eaters, he pressed on. The sooner he could get out of this cursed maze, the sooner he could check on her.
He soon encountered a floating golden mist, and decided to retrace his steps and find another route. He had no idea what it did, and didn't want to risk being caught in a lethal trap. The hedges shifted again. He strode forward, vaguely aware that he was moving north, when a loud scream again broke the silence. This one was male, and very close by.
Acting on instinct, he ran around the nearest corner with a stunning spell on his lips. The scene he encountered shocked him. Viktor was standing over Cedric and appeared to be torturing him. His training partner lay on the ground, writhing and screaming in agony.
"Stupefy!"
Krum crumpled and Harry rushed to Cedric's aid.
"Cedric! Are you alright? What the fuck did he do?"
The Hufflepuff champion shivered violently but took a breath and gathered his wits. "C-cruciatus. He cast a fucking unforgivable on me!"
"What?!"
"It was like he didn't k-know me. He had a strange look in his eyes."
"Somebody must be controlling him. Look, we need to work together and get out of here. Damn the tournament. This is getting stupid."
Cedric nodded as he helped him to stand. He took a moment to make certain he had full use of his limbs. He seemed to be fine, even if he couldn't stop shivering. "I agree. Let's g-get to the Cup and figure out what's happening. Did you hear Fleur earlier?"
"Yeah," he replied grimly.
The two worked together from there on. Cedric easily answered a riddle from a Sphinx, and they both annihilated an acromantula that skittered toward them. Harry might have felt bad about killing a sentient creature in other circumstances, but he was taking no more chances. Not against something that was big enough to eat him.
Finally, the gleaming Tri-Wizard Cup lay before them on a pedestal. They examined their surroundings, half-expecting some creature to jump out of the hedges, but the scene was calm.
"Take it together, you reckon?" Harry said. "We've been helping each other, and it would still be a victory for Hogwarts."
Cedric smiled. "You could have been a Hufflepuff. Let's do it."
Both boys reached for the Cup at the same time.
Harry didn't even have time to curse before he felt the pull of a portkey.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
They both fell as the portkey deposited them on the ground. Harry knew instantly that something was wrong. They were in a dark graveyard, and clearly nowhere near Hogwarts. He could see a manor house high on a nearby hill, but little else save the surrounding mausoleums and headstones. Only the moon illuminated the eerie landscape. A glance behind him revealed the biggest cauldron he had ever seen in his life. It was bubbling and hissing ominously.
"Fuck," he muttered, as he and Cedric rose to their feet. "Get ready. This is definitely bad."
They both raised their wands defensively, but no immediate danger presented itself.
"Lumos," Cedric whispered, and his wand lit up the surrounding area. Harry immediately knew it had been a mistake. A dark figure stepped out from behind a huge stone mausoleum fifty feet away.
"Kill the spare," a voice hissed.
"Move!" Harry yelled, and both dove out of the way as a killing curse sped through the space Cedric had just occupied.
"Fuck!" the Hufflepuff boy exclaimed in shock, too stunned at the lethal violence to retaliate.
Harry didn't hesitate. He had nearly mastered silent casting at this point, and sent an array of blasting, piercing, and bludgeoning hexes directly at the figure. Their attacker's bright shield lit up the night, absorbing the spells, and Harry got a good look at him.
Pettigrew. The traitorous Marauder held his wand in one hand and cradled a bundle against his chest with the other.
"Pettigrew, you bastard!"
He sent another volley of spells at the man. Wormtail dodged or swatted them out of the way with surprising dexterity.
"He's a Death Eater!" Harry yelled at Cedric, and that woke him from his stupor.
He stepped around a pair of stunning spells sent in his direction, and Cedric dodged a spell that exploded violently against a nearby cross, sending stone shards everywhere. Harry managed to get off only a pair of cutting curses before he was forced to shield again. Pettigrew was more powerful than he would have guessed, shifting his attacks between him and Cedric and keeping them off balance.
He found his opening when another barrage was aimed at Cedric. Harry unloaded on the man with everything he had, an uninterrupted series of lethal spells flowing from his wand. Cedric soon joined him. Pettigrew's shield buckled under the dual onslaught, forcing him to dive to the ground and retreat behind the mausoleum.
"Fuck," Harry muttered. With no spellfire lighting up the scene, it was difficult to see. Pettigrew could be doing anything behind there, but he didn't want to risk assaulting his position blindly.
"Where are we?" Cedric asked. His wand shook as he scanned the darkness for threats, clearly still rattled.
"No idea. Can you apparate us out of here?"
"Give me your hand."
He did so, but a moment later Cedric shook his head. "I can't. Must be a ward in place."
"Dammit."
Harry took a closer look at their surroundings. Several large tombs dotted the landscape. Smaller headstones and crosses were everywhere. They had little adequate cover nearby save the huge cauldron, and he wasn't sure if it was safe to be near it.
"Remember our duels," he said, his instinct for dangerous situations taking over. "Don't get too close to me, and let's double team him when he shows his face. I guess we have to wait."
"Got it," Cedric said, wiping the cold sweat from his brow.
He heard some hissing that sounded like parseltongue, but it was too far away to make out. He debated circling around Pettigrew and attacking him from two sides when the choice was taken out of his hands.
A shadow suddenly loomed behind them and Cedric screamed as a massive black snake sank its fangs deep into his thigh. The snake reared back and prepared for another strike, and only his seeker reflexes saved him. Cedric fell on his ass but managed to get a shield up in time. The snake's head careened off the shield, but it slithered beneath it with lightning speed, its jaws open wide.
"Bombarda!" Harry yelled.
His spell struck the snake directly between the eyes. It flew six feet backwards, landing awkwardly, but coiled and immediately slithered toward the boys again. Its head was perfectly intact. Cedric added his own blasting curses, but they only seemed to push it around rather than hurt it.
"What the hell?" Harry breathed, but he had no time to ponder the snake's invulnerability.
The dark red of a stunning spell flew at him out of the corner of his eye. He ducked and it almost grazed his ear. He cursed as Pettigrew reemerged and delivered a flurry of spells against both him and Cedric. Harry shielded for both of them, hoping Cedric could handle the snake, but they were now being attacked from two directions.
"Avada Kedavra!"
"Cedric!"
The spell flew directly at his friend's back, and Harry hastily levitated rubble from a headstone into its path. It exploded like a bomb, peppering Cedric with debris, but it saved his life. For some reason, both the snake and Pettigrew were attacking him more aggressively.
Harry realized he had no choice but to take down Pettigrew fast and hard. He crouched behind a cross and cast a series of piercing and bludgeoning hexes that the man was barely able to parry. He steeled himself and followed them up with his most powerful gouging hex, the one meant to disembowel animals. It flew true. Pettigrew attempted to deflect it, but his shield flickered and failed, allowing the brunt of the curse to burst through.
A scream rent the air as Pettigrew's wand hand exploded in a red mist of blood and broken wood. He dropped the bundle he had been holding and fell to his knees, clasping his bleeding stump. Harry smacked him in the chest with a brutal bludgeoning spell, knocking him on his back, but before he could stun him, his scar erupted in blinding pain.
He groaned in agony, barely able to focus, and saw the bundle on the ground wriggling. Out of it crawled the most awful thing he had ever seen.
It looked vaguely like a human infant, but it was black and red and scaly, its skin flaking away and its eyes glowing a deep red. It could only be Voldemort, and he was somehow holding a long wand in his tiny hands.
"Wormtail!" the hideous baby hissed, but the man was no longer there. Harry cursed as he saw the shadow of a rat dart behind a nearby gravestone.
A bright purple spell shot like a laser from the wand of the tiny Dark Lord, and Harry had no choice but to raise a shield. It flickered and held, but the force of the spell nearly sent him to his knees. He couldn't believe such a powerful spell had come from so small a form. His scar throbbed painfully again, and he had to fight not to close his eyes.
The situation was now desperate. They needed to escape immediately.
"Cedric!" he yelled, and retreated closer to him. "We need to get out of here! It's Voldemort!"
"What?!"
"Nagini! Subdue them!" he heard the Dark Lord hiss in parseltongue.
Harry parried another series of spells from the horrifying baby and risked a glance beside him. Cedric was pale and trembling, looking absolutely ragged, but he was holding off Nagini. He had managed to transfigure nearby roots to grow and latch onto the huge snake, dragging it to the ground and holding it in place. It thrashed and hissed angrily, striking at the roots with vicious bites. They withered wherever it struck, and it was all Cedric could do to keep it from breaking free.
"Are you alright?"
"No. P-poison, I think," he stuttered, his wand hand shaking. "It got me good."
"Dammit."
Harry winced as an incredibly powerful curse collided with his shield. It held, but knocked him back two feet and almost sent him stumbling to the ground. He kept an eye on Voldemort's position and racked his brain, trying to ignore the constant ache from his scar. He once again cursed himself for not thinking of the obvious.
"Dobby!"
But his friend didn't show. There would be no miraculous house elf rescue today. He was running out of ideas, and the cursed little creature was literally crawling toward them, its wand held aloft and its curses unrelenting. With him forced to shield for both of them, he could barely send a spell in return.
Another battery of bright spells lit up the night, flung toward the boys with ridiculous speed. Harry shielded them again, gritting his teeth at the impact, and sent a blasting curse at a nearby marble headstone. It exploded, and he banished the shrapnel at baby Voldemort. The creature just laughed as its shield deflected every piece.
"You will die tonight, Harry Potter!"
He desperately cast a pair of his strongest gouging spells at Voldemort. The first disappeared against a shield, but the second went low and missed, exploding into the ground in front of the infant and sending it sprawling backwards through the air. It landed on its back.
It screeched in rage and Harry's body flooded with adrenaline. Finally, they had a chance. He sent a hail of lethal cutting curses at the tiny prone form. He knew one of them connected because of the inhuman scream that followed.
He pressed his advance, praying that Cedric could hold off the snake, and unloaded furiously on the Dark Lord. He decimated a nearby headstone and again banished the deadly shrapnel at the tiny form on the ground. An outraged scream followed. Harry sliced another headstone in half, then levitated it above the baby and dropped it, hoping to bash its brains in.
He could still hear it hissing angrily, but there was a gurgling sound, and he prayed the thing was mortally wounded. His hopes were dashed immediately. His scar erupted in agony again. A blasting curse flew from Voldemort's wand, nearly taking his head off.
"Cedric, we need to go!" he shouted at the boy behind him, knowing they couldn't fend off so many attackers indefinitely. "Can you run?"
"No," came a weak reply. "The C-cup. It might still be a portkey."
"Where is it?" he asked, dodging an ugly yellow spell from Voldemort and returning fire.
"Don't know," he gritted out, holding onto the pulsing wound on his leg, which was bleeding profusely. "Near the cauldron, I think."
Harry glanced behind him and saw the glinting trophy. Just as he thought they might escape this fight, a dark figure loomed beside him, seemingly appearing right out of the ground. He screamed in shock as Peter Pettigrew plunged a dagger into his side, piercing his ribs. His knees buckled and both of them went crashing to the ground. Pettigrew grabbed his hand, trying to wrest control of his wand, and Harry rolled them over in a desperate attempt to stay on top of the much heavier attacker.
"Harry!"
Bright spellfire again lit up the night as Voldemort shifted his attention to the gate crasher at his resurrection party.
"Protego! Bombarda!" Cedric screamed in desperation.
Harry was in no position to help his friend, and was barely aware of his surroundings. He wrapped his free hand around Wormtail's throat and squeezed, holding him in a death grip. Pettigrew tried to smack him in the face with his bleeding stump, covering them both in blood. He looked straight into the man's terrified eyes and squeezed with all his might.
He heard Cedric yelling again, but was only vaguely aware that his friend was now stumbling toward them. Pettigrew struggled viciously beneath him, now slamming his stump against the dagger still embedded in Harry's side. He screamed but held onto the man's throat for all he was worth.
Cedric's shaking hand closed on his wrist. Harry looked up to see him on his hands and knees, his wand pointed at something nearby. Behind him loomed the massive snake, its head reared back and preparing to strike.
"Accio Cup!" Cedric gasped.
It flew into his embrace, and he, Harry, and Wormtail disappeared in a flash of light.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Hermione squeezed her nails into her palms so viciously she almost drew blood. Why did this always happen to Harry?
Bagman had kept everyone apprised of what was happening in the labyrinth, providing a play-by-play of the action that was both ludicrous and thrilling. She didn't understand why they wouldn't let the spectators at a so-called sporting event actually watch the sport.
Her stomach had turned into a knot when he announced that Fleur had been trampled and knocked unconscious by a blast-ended skrewt. Then Krum had apparently attacked Cedric, shocking the entire audience when Bagman stuttered something about an unforgivable. An Auror and Professor Moody opened a hedge to lend their aid, but by then Harry had already rescued Cedric and moved on.
When Bagman finally announced that they had grabbed the Cup together, she let out a sigh of relief. Both of her friends appeared to be safe.
That had been fifteen minutes ago.
The winner was supposed to have appeared on a large dais in front of the crowd, where the Minister of Magic himself would crown the victor. But both boys had disappeared, and now everyone was milling around in confusion. Bagman had stopped announcing. Aurors and Professors were searching the maze. Moody and Dumbledore were deep in discussion, with Moody shaking his head. The Headmaster's phoenix was perched on his shoulder looking unconcerned with the whole affair. Minister Fudge was demanding answers that no one seemed to have.
Members of the Pride exchanged grave looks, but Hermione couldn't bear to meet their eyes.
The situation changed all at once. In a burst of light, there were suddenly three struggling figures lying in a heap on the dais. They were all covered in blood and engaged in a desperate wrestling match.
The audience was shocked into silence as a bloodied Harry Potter raised his fist and delivered a vicious punch to a fat, balding man trapped beneath him. The man whimpered and waved a bloody stump in the air, his hand clearly missing. Harry punched him over and over until Cedric managed to cast a stunner.
The man stopped struggling and slumped. Hermione's heart stopped as she recognized him as Peter Pettigrew. Cedric disentangled himself, tried to stand on wobbly legs, and promptly collapsed.
An enraged Harry Potter stood and delivered a brutal kick to the downed man's ribs before holding onto his own in agony. Only now did she get a clear look at him. The handle of a dagger was protruding from his side and his face and robes were covered in blood.
Harry gazed at the stunned audience, seemingly surprised to find himself in front of them.
"Get some fucking Aurors up here, dammit!" he bellowed. "And healers!"
All hell broke loose as Hermione tried to rush to the dais.