On The Hunt: Chapter 2 (2/2)

Their encounter with the Delacour family went fairly smoothly, all things considered. Gabrielle had enquired why Harry looked all flustered, and the devious grin on Sirius’ face hadn’t been any help whatsoever. Luckily, he was able to dismiss it as a non-issue.

The elder Delacours introduced themselves as Apolline and Maurice, and they seemed an amiable couple. Gabrielle’s father was quite a jovial fellow, introducing himself in a rather deep voice and talking amicably. Her mother was also a pleasant woman to be around.

Harry was pleasantly surprised when he saw Sirius staying immune to their allure. He had fully expected his godfather to be cheeky, even if a little bit, with the Delacour matriarch, but Sirius surprised him once again by staying perfectly cordial with the French couple.

They talked for a while, and Maurice told them about his job in the Department of International Magical Cooperation in the French Ministry of Magic. Like Barty Crouch, Maurice was fluent in multiple languages and was expecting to be promoted to the post of department head in a couple of years. Apolline told them about her job as a private healer, and Harry realized she must be the one who had taught Gabrielle those healing spells she used after their magic practices whenever he got injured.

The two families spent a large part of the day together until it was time for the evening feast when they shared a table before parting ways with good wishes. The final task was supposed to start in a couple of hours, and already a few people had started flocking toward the Quidditch pitch. Harry and his godfather decided to take a stroll on the grounds.

“So... your girl’s family seems nice,” Sirius began teasingly.

“She’s not my girl,” Harry hissed. They were walking on the shore of the Black Lake. The sky was slightly cloudy now, and a slight breeze was making the trees and bushes sway. In the distance, Harry could see a few students throwing breadsticks at the giant squid and shook his head.

“Really?” Sirius began sceptically, “because your interactions seem otherwise. Even Apolline and Maurice noticed it if the looks they were giving the two of you indicated anything,” he said as he threw a small rock on the lake’s surface, where it bounced twice before submerging under.

Harry sighed and didn’t say anything, choosing to gaze at the horizon over the lake.

“Listen Harry, I might not be the best when it comes to this sort of thing,” Sirius sighed, and Harry turned around, “but if you think there’s something, I say you at least try something, kiddo.”

Harry opened his mouth to reply but Sirius cut him off.

“Look, she’s a good girl, the past few hours were enough to know that. And she’s your age, despite not looking like that. If that is something which bothers you, know that she will transform in a few months anyway.”

He held his hand up to stop any incoming protests.

“I know you don’t care about that. I just wanted to make a point. Look Harry. I just don’t want you to let something so and regret it in the future. I won’t make the decision for you.”

Harry had a pensive look on his face, and Sirius realized he had to push him just a little bit more. He had liked Gabrielle, and the way Harry interacted with her made him sure that there was potential for something there. The fact that the girl was a bloody veela didn’t matter, oh no, not at all.

‘Okay, maybe a little bit,’ Sirius thought with a mental grin. ‘It’s not as if it’s wrong for me to want the best for my only godson.’

“Now come on. Stop thinking about that and focus on the final task. Once that’s over, you can decide what you want to do,” Sirius clapped him on the back and walked ahead, and Harry followed him silently.

XXXXX

A massive crowd had gathered by the Quidditch pitch for the final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Rows upon rows of stands were filled with spectators cheering and talking excitedly as the champions entered the clearing in the middle.

Garbed in a black and maroon tracksuit, Harry was accompanied by his godfather as they made their way over to where the three heads of schools stood with Ludo Bagman and Professor Moody. As he looked around, he saw his friends waving at him, and he gave them a smile and a nod.

Reporters from all three nationalities were present, covering the event for their local audience. The entire spectacle was being telecast live by way of hover mirrors, and the same would cover the third task inside the maze.

It didn’t take them long to reach the middle of the clearing, and Harry saw the other two champions standing stiffly. Fleur was accompanied by Gabrielle who gave him a soft smile when their eyes met, a smile which Harry returned. Krum was accompanied by his friend and the two boys gave him a nod.

Headmaster Dumbledore looked at the three champions with a kind smile. The champions were told to take their spots at the three entrances to the maze before handing over the responsibilities to Ludo Bagman.

The three champions and their entourage walked over to the entrances. Harry saw Fleur and Gabrielle hugging one another, and Krum exchanging a few words with his friend, a look of resolute determination on the face of the Bulgarian seeker. His attention was grabbed by Sirius, who held him close, their arms wrapped around each other.

“Listen Harry, the priority here is to ensure your safety. I’m sure you won’t be in any danger inside that maze, it is closely monitored and I’ve been told no intruder can get in. Even then, take no risks. Get through that maze safely, finish the task, hell you can shoot the red light whenever you want, just come back safely.”

Harry nodded as Sirius pulled back and held him at arm’s length. Nodding, he patted his arms before slowly walking away.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the 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 of Hogwarts with eighty-seven points!”

A massive cheer echoed, spooking the birds and sending them fluttering into the darkening sky.

“In second place, Mr. Viktor Krum of Durmstrang with seventy-six points!”

Another round of applause rang out for the famous Quidditch celebrity.

“And in third place, Ms. Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons with sixty-four points!”

Harry saw his friends and the Gryffindor Quidditch Team applauding from the stands, accompanied by polite applause from the rest of the audience.

“So, on my whistle, Harry...” said Bagman.

“Three, two, one...”

And Harry ran forward at the sharp whistle.

XXXXX

The crowd looked on, shocked, as a dementor came gliding toward Harry Potter, its face hidden inside its cloak and its rotten hands outstretched. They were even more shocked when the wizard cast a corporeal Patronus, a feat previously unheard of from someone so young. Their shock turned into confusion when they saw the dementor stumble. Gabrielle’s eyes widened.

“It’s a boggart!” She exclaimed just as Harry did the same, and saw him cast a silent Riddikulus.

The boggart exploded in a wisp of smoke as the silvery stag faded from sight.

They saw the other two champions encounter a few enchantments and creatures of their own, cumbersome enough but nothing major. The only thing of note was when Krum fell victim to an enchantment that pulled him inside the hedges. The crowd had gasped as one, mentally counting him out of the competition, but the Bulgarian had managed to burn part of the hedge away to free himself.

The task progressed normally, and the crowd ooh-ed and aah-ed whenever any of the three champions encountered an enchantment or a magical creature. There were loud gasps when Harry faced off against a quartet of Blast-ended Skrewts. The creatures had managed to give him quite a challenge since Harry had to fight them while simultaneously dealing with the hedges that protruded from the ground and randomly struck him like a whip.

Gabrielle watched anxiously as Harry barely managed to avoid those whips while doing his best to fend off the hideous creatures. She, and many others in the audience, winced every time a whip managed to find its way through his defence.

Sirius was gripping the barricade tightly, wishing for nothing but to aid Harry. On one hand, he was proud of the boy for the level of fight he was displaying, but the concerned godfather within him couldn’t help but wince every time his godson was pelted by the aforementioned whips.

Harry had finally had enough. He was surrounded by the hedges, his shield barely keeping him safe. Already he had several gashes across his torso, back and knees as proof of his battle. With a snarl, he brought his wand to his chest, folding his hands close, before unleashing a powerful shockwave of flames as he threw his arms open. The hedges stood no chance. As the last of the embers slowly floated down, the screen showed the bloodied and sweaty face of the youngest champion breathing heavily and walking ahead, as he prepared to deal with the damned Skrewts, and the entire audience was shocked into stupefied silence.

XXXXX

“Fuck, this is harder than I thought,” he muttered as he slowly walked forward, simultaneously casting healing spells to stem the blood flow and sealing his wounds up. He had managed to fix up his torso and knees but couldn’t reach his back.

‘Guess that’s for Madam Pomfrey, she will have her work cut out for her tonight.”

Suddenly a sharp scream echoed in the pitch-black night, a scream that came right beside him. Harry abruptly turned to see a tall hedge blocking his way.

‘That was Fleur, she’s right behind this one.’

Without a moment of hesitation, Harry bolted, finding the pathway slightly ahead.

XXXXX

“What the fuck is he doing!?” Gabrielle shouted in fear as several other members of the audience shouted in abject shock.

The cries of the French champion were agonizing to the ears as she twitched on the ground in sheer agony. The audience was looking on in horror at the form of the Durmstrang champion as he kept his wand trained on his female counterpart, and even the normally pain-in-the-ass Igor Karkaroff couldn’t take his wide eyes off the screen.

A large bolt of red hit Krum in the back as he went down in a heap. The screams ceased once the curse ended and the audience sighed in relief when the furious visage of Harry Potter came into focus.

Harry couldn’t believe it! Krum had always come off as a decent wizard, even helpful at times. Did he want to win so badly that he cast the Cruciatus on a fellow champion!?

He pushed that thought out of his mind though. Fleur was badly convulsing on the ground, and he quickly bent down and cradled her head in his lap.

“Fleur! Fleur! Hold on! It’s okay, he’s down!” Harry muttered as he cast multiple spells in quick succession to hold her spasms at bay, with little success. Suddenly, Professors Flitwick and McGonagall entered the clearing at a frantic pace, quickly taking charge of the situation.

“Professor?” Harry asked, looking at Flitwick.

“The headmaster sent us a Patronus informing what had transpired here, don’t worry Mr. Potter, we have her now,” the diminutive Charms master intoned as he waved his wand over the prone veela.

Harry nodded, looking on anxiously as the two professors helped the girl.

Soon, McGonagall pronounced Fleur unable to continue and asked Harry to get on with the task. Harry protested, but McGonagall shot them down. He was the only champion left in the tournament, and he had to reach the cup and end the stupid tournament once and for all. He thought about shooting red sparks and counting himself out as well, but McGonagall told him she wasn’t sure how magic would deem deliberate disqualification.

When he mentioned how what Krum did could also be counted as one, McGonagall told him that Krum was still in the competition as the rules didn’t forbid any spell. Harry was furious. Charges could be pressed against Krum for his use of an unforgivable, but his solicitor could fairly argue that the tournament banned no spell, and thus, under its regulations, any spell was fair game. Harry scoffed at the barbarism.

With the audience, the mood was sombre. The majority of them had never seen what the Cruciatus looked like when cast on another human, and they shivered every few seconds as the wails echoed in their minds. Gabrielle was quietly crying and her parents were no better as they looked at the floating body of their daughter being carried by the two Hogwarts professors.

Minutes passed and they paid nothing any mind, lost in their grief over what their precious daughter had to endure. Only when the whispers started did they look up, before their eyes widened. Wasting no time, the family dashed forward as the professors brought the limp body of Fleur over to the medical area where Madam Pomfrey was prepared with a few healers from St. Mungo’s. Madame Maxime quickly joined them.

Krum was levitated toward the centre of the clearing, and the two other headmasters along with several Hogwarts professors, the minister, the Head Auror, and the Director of the DMLE surrounded the unconscious wizard.

With hard eyes, Dumbledore brought the Bulgarian back to the world of the living, who looked groggy, his eyes barely opening. Frowns appeared on multiple faces which slowly gave way to expressions of dread. Dumbledore waved his wand over the Durmstrang champion in intricate patterns.

“Headmaster, is he-”

“It appears so,” Dumbledore started, before looking at the witches and wizards surrounding him. It appeared that most of them had already deduced what had happened, given the way they looked on with grave expressions on their faces.

“It appears that Mr. Krum has been a victim of the Imperius Curse,” Dumbledore said, prompting collective gasps from those in the dark. It didn’t take long for the rest of the crowd to know just what had transpired as the headmaster’s voice and the whispers that followed carried over to the lowest stands.

Dumbledore’s mind was working in overdrive as he tried to ascertain just what was unfolding there. The mirror was following the emerald-eyed wizard who had just beaten an acromantula, the Triwizard Cup gleaming a short distance away. Suddenly, he jolted straight.

“Minerva, Severus, secure the area. Get Alastor to coordinate. Madam Bones, please form up the Aurors around the stands!”

The professors in question hastened to follow the command, unnerved at seeing the ancient wizard so shaken. The head of the DMLE was already at it, relaying the commands to the Head Auror and Auror Captains. Dumbledore watched the scene anxiously when a stoic Severus Snape came up to him.

"Headmaster, Moody is nowhere to be seen," he informed the aged wizard in a low voice.

"He was patrolling the maze. My Patronus should have reached him as well,"

Suddenly, a loud cry of shock emanated from the audience as they looked at the suspended screen. Dumbledore looked up to see a manic-looking Alastor jump out of the hedge right behind the Hogwarts champion. The wizard in question had no time to react as the pair collided with the cup, vanishing from the grounds in an instant.

Silence. Suffocating, deafening. It stretched for a few seconds as the aged wizard looked at the screen in horror. The crowd, now silent, looked on confused for a few moments before loud whispers started.

Harry Potter was no longer on Hogwarts grounds.