Chapter 260
Draco moved slowly along the empty path, alone.
For the moment, nothing stood in his way. Ever since he had chosen the route at the first junction, the path ahead had been strangely smooth—no traps, no obstacles, nothing to slow him down.
The dense hedges on either side swayed in the cold wind, their branches brushing together with a dry, rustling sound that made the air feel even more chilling.
The maze was growing darker with every passing second.
Above him, the sky had turned into a murky, chaotic dark green. Before, he could still make out shapes and movement in the distance, but now everything was being squeezed into a narrow field of vision. It felt as if a layer of fog was spreading steadily through the labyrinth, swallowing up the light.
Then—
A sharp whistling sound cut through the air behind him.
Something was rushing toward him at high speed.
It was a Blast-Ended Skrewt.
Even though Rubeus Hagrid was no longer teaching at Hogwarts, it seemed his "talent" for breeding dangerous creatures hadn't diminished in the slightest. The Blast-Ended Skrewt—violent, unpredictable—was still something he could produce.
It was even said to be used as a guard in Azkaban.
And now, it had been placed here… as part of the trial.
Whether a champion was prepared or caught off guard, facing it would be trouble either way.
The creature was grotesque.
A twisted hybrid—part manticore, part scorpion, part fire crab. It was aggressive by nature and even killed its own kind without hesitation, which made Draco think of venomous insects that devoured each other until only one survived.
Except this creature didn't reduce its numbers so easily.
Its growth was rapid too. In just a year, it could go from the size of a lobster to a ten-foot monster.
Spikes covered its back, sharp and revolting. Its tail curled over its body like a giant scorpion's stinger. Its thick shell could deflect spells, and from that tail, it could unleash bursts of fire.
Its only vulnerable spot was its underside—and even that was well protected.
With a crackling roar, a blast of heat surged toward Draco, flames shooting forward as the Skrewt charged like a living weapon.
"Aguamenti!"
A stream of water burst from Draco's wand, condensing into a powerful jet that slammed into the creature's flaming tail.
The flames hissed violently as water met fire.
For a moment, the blaze weakened.
Then it flared up again.
The Skrewt writhed, furious, forcing its way forward. This tiny human in front of it—refusing to become prey—had somehow angered it.
But then—
It stopped.
Its legs were sinking.
Without realizing it, the creature had charged straight into the mud.
The ground beneath it had already been soaked by the water spell, turning soft and treacherous.
Every step it took dragged thick, sticky strands of mud with it.
The more it struggled, the deeper it sank.
Down.
Further down.
Its massive body, once an advantage, now became a burden dragging it under.
The ground had turned into a swamp.
Slowly, helplessly, the Blast-Ended Skrewt sank into the earth until it disappeared completely.
Draco watched it without expression.
But he didn't relax.
Creatures without intelligence relied only on instinct. Once their weaknesses were exposed, they became easy prey.
Instinct might tell them to hide their vulnerabilities—but it couldn't teach them that the environment itself could become a weapon.
After clearing the obstacle, Draco continued forward.
The darkness thickened around him, and he could feel it—
He was getting close to the center of the maze.
"Point Me."
After walking a little further, he raised his wand.
Not far ahead, a faint glow appeared—the base of the Triwizard Cup, gleaming invitingly.
And beside it—
A figure.
Harry Potter.
Harry had arrived from another direction, and he was closer to the Cup.
He was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling as his eyes locked onto the trophy—the symbol of victory.
In the light from his wand's Lumos spell, he also saw Draco.
"What a coincidence," Draco said, clapping lightly, his face calm and unreadable. "Looks like the final battle is between the two of us."
Harry didn't respond.
Instead, he ran.
Straight toward the Cup.
He was on guard, fully expecting Draco to attack from behind—
But nothing came.
Draco didn't move.
Didn't try to stop him.
That alone felt wrong.
If their positions were reversed, Harry knew he would have done everything to stop his opponent.
But there was no time to think.
The excitement surged through him, drowning out every doubt.
The Cup was right there.
So close.
In its glow, his vision blurred.
For a moment, he thought he saw himself already lifting it, walking out of the maze. The crowd roared in his ears. And in the stands, Cho Chang looked at him with admiration—clearer than ever before.
Then—
The illusion shattered.
His hand was already gripping the Cup.
At that same instant, he saw Draco's lips move.
A faint, knowing smile curved on his face.
"Goodbye."
The moment Harry grabbed the handle, something yanked violently at his navel.
His feet left the ground.
The world spun.
He couldn't let go—the Cup dragged him along, pulling him through roaring wind and spiraling colors.
—
Back in the maze, Draco stood still, staring at the empty space where the Cup had been.
It was gone.
Harry was gone.
As if neither had ever been there.
"I've done everything I can," he murmured quietly.
"The rest… is up to you."
—
Harry slammed into the ground.
Pain shot through his body as he rolled several times before coming to a stop.
His hand finally released the Cup.
His head spun.
His stomach churned violently, as if he might throw up at any second. The sharp wind still rang painfully in his ears.
After a moment, he forced himself up and looked around.
Dead trees.
Bare ground.
Gravel under his hands.
This wasn't Hogwarts.
Then—
A voice.
Cold.
Cruel.
And unmistakably pleased.
"Avada Kedavra."
A flash of green light shot straight toward him.