One bright morning in early May, when the Scottish highlands were finally showing their full spring glory with wildflowers dotting the grounds and the morning mist rolling off the Black Lake in wispy smokiness.
The castle seed to breathe with new life, windows were thrown open to let in the fresh air, students shed their winter robes for lighter versions, and the general atmosphere was one of anticipation as the end of term approached.
Ludo Bagman gathered the four champions together in a small, private classroom on the third floor to formally announce the content of the highly anticipated final task of the Triwizard Tournant.
His usual jolly deanor was sowhat passive this morning, replaced by an air of forced professionalism as he stood before them with a stack of official-looking parchnts clutched in his hands.
Dark circles under his eyes showed he hadn't been sleeping well, whether from the stress of organizing the tournant or his other troubles, Harry couldn't tell.
"Right then," Bagman began, clearing his throat nervously and smoothing down his robes, "let's get straight to it, shall we? The final task."
Without any hesitation, he explained with sowhat rehearsed words, the champions would enter the massive maze according to their accumulated scores from the previous tasks—first place entering first, with staggered intervals for the others.
Whoever reached the Triwizard Cup first, navigating through all obstacles and challenges, would win the ultimate victory of the Triwizard Tournant and claim eternal glory for themselves and their school.
"The maze will cover the entire Quidditch pitch," Bagman continued, gesturing with his hands as if outlining the extent in the air. "Twenty-foot-high hedges, magically reinforced so they can't be blasted through or climbed over. The paths will shift periodically, so you can't simply morize a route. And of course..."
He paused for dramatic effect, his eyes sweeping across their faces.
"There will be obstacles. Challenges. And creatures."
Bagman reminded them with an attempt at severity that many dangerous creatures lurked within the maze's twisting passages, so rely to test their reflexes, others genuinely life-threatening and he handed each champion a lengthy list of monsters that might appear during their navigation.
But this list was practically useless for any real preparation purposes, as it contained dozens upon dozens of different magical creatures, from the relatively harmless to the potentially lethal. Everything from Blast-Ended Skrewts to Boggarts, from Red Caps to possibly even a Sphinx.
Harry accepted his copy and gave it a casual glance, his eyes skimming down the parchnt with its neat, official Ministry script. He recognized most of them from his Care of Magical Creatures classes with Professor Westeros, and from his reading in the library preparing for previous tasks.
A small smile tugged at his lips as he read through the list. He felt sowhat relieved by the familiar nas jumping out at him.
They were all creatures that could be dealt with effectively by a single accurate Blasting Curse, maybe a Stunning Spell for the smaller ones, or a Reducto for anything with a hard shell.
If that didn't work on the first try, then two consecutive spells would certainly do the job. Three at most for sothing particularly stubborn.
Nothing here was worse than a dragon, and he'd already faced one of those successfully.
The other three champions, however, looked considerably graver and more concerned as they studied their copies with furrowed brows.
Krum especially kept staring at the list in long silence, his eyebrows drawn together in a deep V, his expression was serious and troubled. He turned the parchnt over once as if searching for sothing on the back, then stared at it again with visible frustration.
On the way back to the castle after the brief eting, walking across the sunny grounds where other students were enjoying the weather, Harry couldn't help asking curiously as he fell a step beside the brooding Krum. "Do you find the task difficult? You look worried. More worried than usual, I an."
Krum glanced at him sideways, his heavy brow still furrowed.
"No," Krum answered concisely, his thick accent making the word sound almost like "nyet."
Then after a pause, he added with frustration, "I can't read it."
He held up the parchnt and shook it slightly, as if the gesture might sohow make the words clearer.
Harry was sowhat speechless, caught completely off guard by this unexpected and rather obvious answer he should have anticipated.
Of course. No wonder Krum had that particular frustrated expression during the entire eting, staring at the parchnt like it had personally offended him.
Turns out he couldn't understand most of the creature nas on the list, written as they were in English with complex terminology and specialized vocabulary. Words like "Acromantula" and "Boggart" and "Quintaped" would an nothing to soone still learning the language.
That was perfectly normal, though, Harry reflected with so genuine sympathy. After all, Krum's English was indeed quite basic and heavily accented, barely enough for daily conversation and simple exchanges about Quidditch or the weather.
After parting ways with Krum near the front doors, watching the tall figure stride away across the grounds, Harry hurried back to the Transfiguration classroom on the second floor.
Class was already half over when he slipped quietly through the door.
Professor McGonagall, who stood at the front demonstrating a complex wand movent to transform a hedgehog into a pin cushion knew exactly what he'd just gone to do and rely nodded slightly with understanding, though her lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval at the disruption.
She indicated with a gesture that he should return to his seat without disrupting the lesson further.
"Thank you, Professor," Harry murmured, keeping his head down as he made his way to his desk.
Several students whispered as he passed, clearly curious about where he'd been.
"What's the task about?" Ron imdiately leaned over across the aisle the mont Harry sat down, asking in what he probably thought was a lowered voice but was actually quite loud.
His textbook lay unopened in front of him. "Is it dangerous? Did Bagman give details? What do we need to prepare?"
Harry quickly told Ron about the maze in hushed tones, keeping one eye on Professor McGonagall's back as she continued her demonstration for the other students.
"Twenty feet high," Harry whispered. "Covers the whole pitch. Can't blast through the hedges or climb them."
"I knew it!" Ron said excitedly, his voice rising slightly despite his attempt to whisper. His face lit up with vindication. "See, wasn't I right? I told you weeks ago that was the competition venue! Didn't I say that?
How does it feel knowing what's coming?"
"Hmm..." Harry thought for a mont, considering his answer while pulling out his Transfiguration textbook. "It sounds quite ordinary, actually. Not as dramatic as I expected. Certainly not as terrifying as the dragon."
"Hey, such a huge maze covering the entire Quidditch pitch, filled with dangerous creatures that could kill you, and you're calling it ordinary?" Ron found it hard to believe, staring at his friend incredulously with his mouth hanging slightly open.
"Are you serious? Did facing that Swedish Dragon damage your sense of danger?"
"Unless they put a few fully-grown dragons inside the maze," Harry smiled with confidence, "otherwise I think there shouldn't be any serious problems I can't handle. I an, what's a Blast-Ended Skrewt compared to a dragon?"
"That's actually a fair point," Ron agreed, nodding thoughtfully. "Though Hagrid's Skrewts are pretty nasty. Rember when one burned through Goyle's robes?"
"Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall's distinctly displeased voice ca sharply from the podium, cutting through the classroom chatter, "please control your volu. This is still a classroom, not the Gryffindor common room where you can gossip freely."
Ron imdiately shrank his neck like a turtle retreating into its shell and obediently shut his mouth.
Several Slytherins snickered from across the room.
Only then did Professor McGonagall continue explaining the complex details of how to properly transform a hedgehog into a blanket, demonstrating the precise wand movents required.
"Note that the bristles must be completely transford," She said sternly, her wand moving. "If any remain, your blanket will be rather uncomfortable. Mr. Goyle nearly impaled himself last year."
More snickers, this ti directed at Goyle who scowled from his desk.
The lesson dragged on endlessly. Harry tried to pay attention to McGonagall's instructions, taking notes on the proper technique, but found his mind wandering constantly to the upcoming maze, ntally cataloging spells he should practice.
The Stunning Spell, definitely. Maybe so fire spells. The Shield Charm. Perhaps he should ask Adrian about so more advanced defensive magic.
The bell finally rang after what felt like hours.
Students began imdiately packing up their books and parchnt with the usual end-of-class chaos, and cheerful noise filled the classroom as everyone anticipated lunch.
The sll of roast chicken was already wafting up from the Great Hall below.
"Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall's voice suddenly rang out above the noise, "please go to Professor Snape's office imdiately. He has sothing urgent to discuss with you. Right now, please."
The classroom fell into an interested hush at this unusual notice.
Hearing Malfoy's na spoken so seriously, with that particular tone of voice, Harry instinctively looked up from shoving his textbook into his bag.
He saw Malfoy across the room silently get up from his seat, his face unusually pale even for him and walk out of the classroom alone with stiff, chanical movents.
Unusually, his ever-present bodyguards Goyle and Crabbe didn't follow, remaining in their seats looking confused and slightly lost without their leader. They exchanged uncertain glances.
"If Snape had McGonagall pass on a ssage instead of sending a student or house-elf," Ron observed, having obviously noticed Malfoy's tense movents too, "it must be sothing seriously urgent. Maybe he's in real trouble. Maybe he finally got caught doing sothing."
Harry nodded in imdiate agreent, his instincts prickling with that familiar sensation that sothing important was happening. "Let's follow him. This could be important. If it's about Death Eater activity—"
The two boys exchanged a aningful glance. Taking advantage of the noisy crowd still chattering and gathering their belongings in the classroom, students shoving past each other to get to lunch first, they quietly slipped out the back door.
They carefully began tailing Malfoy through the corridor, keeping a safe distance behind him.
Malfoy walked very quickly, almost hurriedly.
There were many people in the corridor between classes—students heading to lunch in chattering groups, so to their next lessons, others just wandering. A couple of first-years nearly collided with Malfoy but he didn't slow down or apologize.
To avoid being discovered or recognized, especially by Malfoy himself or any of his Slytherin friends, Harry had to quickly cast a Disillusionnt Charm on himself and Ron.
During this hasty process of moving while invisible, Ron nearly knocked over a tall suit of armor with his elbow when he misjudged the distance.
Malfoy was completely unaware of the two invisible figures following him at a distance. He quickly descended the cold stone stairs leading to the dungeons, and walked toward the ominous, door of Snape's private office at the end of the corridor.
When Malfoy disappeared behind the door, Harry and Ron imdiately approached as quietly as possible.
Ron seed sowhat uneasy, he'd never imagined he'd one day be eavesdropping on a professor's private conversation, especially Snape's of all people. The man gave him enough nightmares already without adding spying to the mix.
"This is mad," Ron breathed. "If we get caught—"
"We won't get caught," Harry assured him, though he wasn't entirely certain himself.
Ron scratched his hair anxiously and pressed his ear tightly against the cold door.
However, disappointnt appeared across his face almost imdiately.
"Can't hear a single thing," he muttered in frustration. "This door has excellent soundproofing."
Harry also pressed his ear against the door experintally. Indeed, he could only hear a blur of low murmurs, completely unable to distinguish any specific words or content beyond vague sounds.
He frowned deeply, his mind racing through options—he really should have learned a spell specifically designed for eavesdropping. That would have been practical.
Suddenly, inspiration struck him like a buldger.
The Weasley twins seed to have given him a peculiar little gadget so ti ago, claiming it would be "useful soday" with their typical mischievous grins. He'd tossed it in his pocket and forgotten about it completely until now.
He rummaged through his school robe pocket, which had been magically expanded with an Undetectable Extension Charm, and soon pulled out a pair of flesh-colored, string-like strange objects that looked disturbingly living.
They called it an "Extendable Ear,".
If this door hadn't been cast with a specific Imperturbable Charm designed against such devices and Snape might very well have used one—it would work perfectly.
"What's that disgusting thing?" Ron looked at what Harry had pulled out with instant disgust, it was sothing that looked disturbingly like withered intestines or pale earthworms and wrinkled his nose in disgust, his face began twisting.
"Please tell that's not what I think it is. That's not actually from a—"
"From Fred and George, obviously," Harry quickly explained in a whisper, inserting the earplug-like end of the Extendable Ear carefully into his own ear canal.
It felt strange and slightly warm. The other end had sothing resembling a small suction cup. "They said this would be useful for 'information gathering.' Their exact words. Been carrying it around for weeks."
He carefully pressed the suction cup onto an extrely tiny gap at the bottom of the door.
The suction cup seed to magically attach itself with a soft squelching sound. The flesh-colored string automatically extended like a living thing, stretching long, cleverly hiding itself in the dark shadow of the doorfra.
"Those two..." Ron muttered softly.
Co to think of it more, a few days ago he'd planned to have George and Fred handle his valuable vial of Acromantula venom through their contacts, but they actually wanted to charge him half the total value of the vial as their commission!
Fifty percent!
This made him seriously doubt whether he was really their brother.
Moreover, he had absolutely no idea George and Fred had successfully made such a sophisticated and miraculous thing as these Extendable Ears.
When had they had ti between classes and Quidditch and their constant detentions?
Harry beckoned urgently to Ron with his free hand.
Ron quickly imitated Harry and inserted the other earplug into his own ear, trying not to think about the slightly slimy, fleshy texture.
Instantly, as if a switch had been flipped, the sounds from inside the door that had been completely blocked before clearly flooded into their eardrums, as if they were standing right in the office.
Snape's voice was the first to ring out clearly, carrying an unusually grave and serious tone.
"...Your father managed to send another ssage this morning, Draco."
A brief, heavy silence followed with tension. Harry could vividly imagine Malfoy's body suddenly tensing up.
"He... what did he say?" Malfoy's voice finally ca, sounding very nervous, almost trembling.
"He wants you to return ho." Snape's voice was emotionless. "I believe you know the reason why."
Through the Extendable Ear ca the distinct sound of Malfoy sharply inhaling.
"He... he knows? That person... knows the Dark Mark has already been..." Malfoy's voice cracked, unable to finish the sentence.
"This is hardly difficult to discover," Snape interrupted him coldly, "when one is looking for such things. Although the connection between the Marks has been greatly weakened for... certain reasons we needn't discuss in detail, it hasn't been completely severed.
Such a significant change in one Mark couldn't be hidden forever, even with Dumbledore's help."
"Then what should I do?" Malfoy's voice was filled with panic now, almost desperately pleading. "Professor, my father, he... he—"
"Lucius is fine for now," Snape's tone remained steady. "He told the Dark Lord that you've been 'specially attended to' by Dumbledore himself, closely monitored every hour of every day, unable to move freely around the castle or leave the grounds without escort.
This temporarily explained why the Mark failed. The Dark Lord was extrely displeased but accepted this explanation, at least for the present mont."
Outside the door, Harry and Ron exchanged shocked glances in the dim light, both seeing complete disbelief reflected in the other's eyes.
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