Final Preparations
"Alright, Gnarl, what did you need to discuss with me? You said it had something to do with my vision in Divination?"
"Indeed, Sire. As you'll recall, we were able to translate your words, giving us a chance to decode the vision, so to speak."
"I remember. 'Four serpents of the sky for the Chosen below. One night beneath the midwinter moon. Four hostages beneath the blackened depths. One Labyrinth for the Chosen Four. One night for the Dark Lord's return. One night for the Dark Lord to rise. One night to bind the world in darkness.' "
"Correct, Sire. Now, we can confirm these words relate directly to the Triwizard Tournament. The four 'serpents of the sky' refer to the dragons of the First Task. The midwinter moon the Yule Ball."
"And the four hostages of the Second Task in the Black Lake. Which means the Third Task will be in a maze of some sort."
"Correct. However, what's of greater importance are the lines referring to the Dark Lord and his return."
"I'm not afraid of Voldemort."
"I never suggested you were. However, we cannot ignore the reality of the situation, especially with Crouch's recent murder. It's clear now your participation in the Tournament is in some way the catalyst for Voldemort's return. And upon his return, he will attempt to kill you, finishing what he started a decade ago."
"Then I need to train for that. I won't let him win, not when everyone I care about is on the line."
"Have no fear, Sire. I'm not about to let the Potter line end thanks to that deranged pretender. I shall be teaching you a new repertoire of spells. However, Sire, I must caution you with the use of these spells."
"Is there something wrong with them?"
"Not quite. Simply put, these are some of the more deadly spells the Potter family created over the centuries. Each one of them is meant to cause either death or unimaginable agony to the target. These are not prank spells or the sort you would use on another student unless it was a life-or-death situation."
"In other words, don't play around with them. Unless I'm looking to get expelled or arrested."
"Correct, Sire. Now, first, I shall teach you how to conjure the Chains of Torment."
"Woah..."
"I didn't think it was possible."
"How long do you think it'll continue?"
"He's gotta stop at some point, right?"
The entirety of Gryffindor House had gathered in the common room. There were no special announcements for the House that preceded this, nor were there any grand revelations for any students that needed to be shared with the rest of the House. No, what had lured the mass of students to gather in the common room was the opportunity to observe, so to speak, an exceptionally rare event. Something that so many students had believed to be an impossibility, but could now be verified as an undeniable fact. With ears and windows open, Gryffindor listened to the sound of a furious Filius Flitwick.
"Never let it be said the man doesn't have lungs."
"Can anyone make out what he's saying?"
"No, but he's been at it for an hour now."
"Whatever Ravenclaw did, they got him angry."
"Not even the Twins got McGonagall this angry."
"Not for lack of trying, mind you."
The heads of the students collectively turned towards the entrance to the Common Room at the sound of the Fat Lady granting entrance. Moments later, Neville stepped into the room, a look of absolute bewilderment plastered on his face.
"Bloody hell..." he muttered under his breath.
"I see you've noticed our Charms Professor is unhappy with his House."
"I could hear him in the Entrance Hall."
"Did you get a look at the points on the way up?"
"Yeah, I'm not sure exactly, but it looks like Ravenclaw's down 300 points. Maybe more. What happened while I was gone?"
"The entirety of Ravenclaw managed to reach the limits of Flitwick's patience."
"How did they manage that?"
"Not sure, but... Hermione, didn't you say something earlier about bullying in Ravenclaw?"
"Yes, one of the students, a third-year girl named Luna Lovegood has been called Loony by most of her house, and even had her belongings stolen from her."
"Wait, this is because of Loon- oh boy..."
"You've been calling her that too, haven't you?"
"Now that you mention it, I think I'm gonna turn in early."
"Yeah, I have homework I've gotta finish, so I'll head up too."
As various students from across the years began making their way to their dorms, Hermione and Ron turned their attention back to Neville, who casually shuffled into the common room.
"So Neville, how'd things go with your gran?" Ron spoke up for the first time since the common room had filled with spectators to Flitwick's fury.
"Well enough, I guess. She wasn't happy getting a lecture from Bellatrix's sister, but McGonagall kept things from getting nasty."
"Does this mean you got a new wand?"
"Yes, Hermione, I got a new wand." Neville produced the wand in question, brandishing it proudly, a far cry from his usual timid self. "Cherry, with a unicorn hair core. It feels so much better than before. Even Gran was happy with how well it responded to me."
As Neville showed off his new wand, the rest of the House failed to notice the conspicuous absence of the most famous student in Gryffindor.
"Holy...hell..."
"That's the idea, Sire."
Harry heard Gnarl's words, but he didn't register them. Or more accurately, he didn't feel the need to. Across the room, he watched as the training dummy he'd been practicing on slowly attempted to repair itself after facing the brunt of Harry's newest spell. This latest spell was one of two used to create a dark violet fire. This same fire could either be released as a continuous stream of destruction and death, or it could be concentrated into a deadly fireball. When released, these unique fireballs would fly straight at their target, and upon striking would detonate in a frighteningly powerful explosion.
For practice, he had created a small flame, somewhere between a bludger and a snitch, and sent it at the dummy. It hit with such a destructive force the shockwave almost knocked Harry off his feet, forcing him to steady himself as he watched bits of wood fly about the room, coated with a purple flame. Perhaps even more insidious, these flames were all but impossible to extinguish unless at the command of the caster. Even Protego Diabolica, an ancient spell re-created, and made infamous, by Gellert Grindelwald, could have control of its flames seized and thus dispelled. It simply required a great deal of effort.
But for nearly 500 years, the Potters had experimented with this spell, testing its limits to see just how much it could do. Through all of this, they had confirmed the spell truly could not be overtaken. Only Sanctuary was able to block the spell, and only by the will of the caster would the flames ever be extinguished. This was a powerful, and absurdly dangerous spell. Now he understood why Gnarl had referred to these flames as 'Hellfire.'
"I...I barely put anything into that spell. How... how was it able to create that much power?"
"That is simply the nature of Hellfire, Sire. As I said, these spells are among the most powerful, and destructive in the Potter Family Grimoire. Entire armies have fallen before the Lords of the Potter Family, and these spells are the reason why."
"I... I see. Maybe I should wait until I'm better prepared before trying anything involving 'Hellfire' again."
"As you wish, Sire. Perhaps we should try more of the Lightning spells?"
"OK. I can conjure a lightning bolt, and create a literal lightning storm. What's next?"
"How about a lightning bolt that will jump from one target to another?"
"Oohhhh~"
"Well, you look like hell."
Ron's commentary was blunt as always, but it reminded Harry of the need to pace himself. He'd spent hours learning new spells thanks to Gnarl and was feeling not only better prepared but stronger than ever before. But he still had his lessons, and even if he was exempt from final exams, it didn't mean he shouldn't be putting in anything less than his best effort. He'd already slept in this morning, he didn't need to risk falling asleep in class.
"Didn't get much sleep last night."
"Let me guess, Flitwick kept you awake?"
"...yeah. So, what's the result of everything last night?"
Hermione turned her attention from the Daily Prophet, and her search for information concerning Barty Crouch, back to her boyfriend.
"Well, Ravenclaw lost 800 points last night, about half of the upper-years are forbidden from joining the Quidditch team next year, Cho, along with two other students, got promoted to Prefect, and the Ravenclaw Head Boy lost his badge to a Gryffindor. But that's just Ravenclaw. Hufflepuff and Gryffindor also lost about 75 points each, while Slytherin lost almost 450."
Harry was stunned by the sheer scale of points lost in one night.
"Just how bad was it for Luna?"
"The points lost in Hufflepuff and Gryffindor are because of people using that mocking nickname for her. Slytherin lost points because of that, jinxes and hexes in the halls, and cutting open her bookbag. Ravenclaw did all that, and more. Stealing books, homework, various articles of clothing, quills and inkpots, copies of her father's magazine, and even locking her outside of Ravenclaw Tower at night."
Harry's mind was reeling. So much had been going on, in Ravenclaw itself, and nobody had any idea. Nobody had done anything to stop it. And Luna hadn't felt confident enough to speak up about it... until Flitwick learned of it by pure happenstance.
"How did nobody realize it was going on?"
"Because so many of the 'authorities' were in on it. Ravenclaw lost both its sixth-year Prefects because nobody in the sixth year could be trusted with the responsibility. The only Prefect who kept his job was the seventh-year boy, and he kept it solely because he helped Luna whenever he learned of a problem. But even he's on thin ice with Flitwick."
Looking up at the High Table, Harry could believe Hermione. Sitting in his chair, Flitwick wasn't even bothering to conceal his displeasure. Anger practically radiated off the man as he attempted to focus on his food. Likewise, the other Heads of House were in similar moods, no doubt from learning just how much bullying was going on right under their noses. Professor McGonagall looked almost as angry as Flitwick, while Sprout had a look that conveyed more of a deep disappointment than actual anger. Snivellous, on the other hand, looked more annoyed than unhappy. Though knowing the greasy dungeon bat, that was likely because his precious snakes got caught and had to be punished.
On a whim, Harry looked over at the Ravenclaw table, to try and find Luna. To his disappointment, he found that she was sitting largely alone, with the other students, even the Beauxbatons students, giving her a wide berth. It wasn't right. So many of them had chosen to act like gits to her, and they were acting like it was her fault they got caught. Well, if the Claws didn't want her, she'd be more than welcome with the Lions.
Rising from the table, Harry made his way over to the Claws and did his best to ignore the cautious looks he was getting from the rest of the House. Approaching Luna, who looked at him with a slight tilt of her head, he put on his most charming smile.
"Hello, Luna."
"Hello, Harry."
"I was wondering if you would like to have breakfast with me and my friends at the Gryffindor Table."
Luna smiled dreamily in response. "I'd love to. Thank you, Harry."
Harry smiled back at her, but as she rose from her seat, someone at the Ravenclaw Table proved they barely possessed the brainpower one would expect from Rowena Ravenclaw's House.
"Potter, why are you inviting over Loon-"
The idiot in question clamped his hands over his mouth, realizing what he was about to say. And though Harry pretended to ignore it, not even he could deny that Flitwick had turned his gaze on said idiot, and was boring holes into the nitwit's skull with his eyes alone.
"I'm inviting Luna over to the Gryffindor Table because she's a friend."
And without so much as a backwards glance, Harry led Luna over to Gryffindor, where she made herself quite comfortable sitting next to Hermione. And though Harry never noticed it, up at the High Table, McGonagall was watching him with the faintest beginnings of a smile.
At that moment, Harry was feeling somewhat annoyed. It wasn't down to anything happening in his training. Far from it, in fact. Over the past few weeks, he and Cedric had been receiving a masterful education in duelling. While Cedric's greatest strength, before the Tournament, was in Transfiguration instead of DADA, Professor Flitwick had given him a thorough education in all matters relating to combat. Harry, on the other hand, had acquired an astounding knowledge of spells and was now quite capable of several advanced feats of magic, all thanks to the mentorship of Gnarl, and the knowledge contained within the Potter Grimoire.
No, what made Harry annoyed was the simple fact that it was 9 pm, and he was meeting the other champions at the Quidditch Pitch to discuss the Third Task with Bagman. What made it annoying, aside from the fact he would have to deal with Bagman, of all people, but the simple fact was Quidditch was one of his favourite things about Hogwarts. The feeling of freedom granted to him by flying his broom was unlike anything else, and it grated on his every nerve that the school had cancelled Quidditch in favour of this stupid Tournament.
Fortunately, the other Champions had already arrived, which meant they were just waiting on-
"Ah, there you are!"
Speak of the devil.
"Now that you're all here, we can get started."
With that, Bagman led them into the arena and onto the Pitch and- 'Good Lord what did they do to the Pitch!?'
Harry was now feeling not just annoyed, but horrified and angry in equal measure. Where once had stood the Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch, immaculate and pristine, now stood a mass of hedges, about four feet tall, and constantly shifting their placement. It was a horrifying sight, not just to Harry, but to Cedric as well. Even Krum seemed put out at the idea of a Quidditch Pitch being tarnished in such a way.
Of course, the overly joyful sound of Bagman's laughter broke them out of whatever reverie they might have been caught in.
"Relax boys, you'll have your Quidditch Pitch back soon enough."
"You- you planted a hedgemaze in the Quidditch Pitch!?"
"Correct, Harry, but that's not just any hedge maze. Those hedge seedlings came from Italy, where magical hedge mazes were used as part of defences on wizards' estates. Do you know what that means?"
"Eet means zat ze maze will be alive, and will attempt to trap us." Fleur's voice rang out, indifferent to the desecration on display before them.
"That's right, Fleur! But the maze will also have traps placed by the Hogwarts staff and creatures provided by Professor Hagrid, so there's plenty standing between you and victory!"
"And what must we do to win?" Krum had recovered his senses, asking the first question Harry wanted to know... aside from whether he could curse Bagman for this abomination.
"It's quite simple, Krum. All you have to do is get to the Triwizard Cup placed at the center of the maze. The first to touch the Cup wins the Tournament! Now, everyone has a chance of finding the Cup and winning the Tournament, but we'll be letting you into the maze in order of your score. This means that Harry here will go first, followed by Cedric, then Viktor, and finally with Fleur."
So that was it. All they had to do now was navigate a trap and monster-infested maze, aiming for the center where the Cup was waiting for the first arrival to claim victory. This meant that the others were uniquely vulnerable in that they could easily find themselves a target of whoever was watching him. Especially if they could be used to achieve Voldemort's aims. He just hoped they had some experience defending themselves.
"Now, unless anyone has any questions...?" Nobody answered, and Harry admittedly resisted the desire to start cursing the idiot. They could have told them this months ago! Still, Harry guessed it didn't matter that much. Soon, the Third Task would begin, and it would be time for Voldemort to make his move.
'Whatever you have planned, Tom, I'm ready. I won't go down without a fight, so hit me with your best shot.'