The excitent following the second task faded surprisingly quickly. The discussions about Arthur’s unorthodox squid alliance and Harry’s heroic rescue of Gabrielle Delacour lasted barely a week before the Hogwarts rumour mill found fresher topics to obsess over. For Arthur, this was a welco relief.
With the final task still months away, Arthur resud his regular schedule of classes, studies and research.
His work on the enchantnt transference project—attempting to move Ravenclaw’s diadem’s properties to a less conspicuous object—was proving to be really difficult. This was primarily because he didn’t have anything similar to experint with, and with the preciousness of the magical artefact, he couldn’t test his theories on the actual diadem unless he was one hundred percent certain of success.
The alchemical research, however, was progressing rather well. Arthur had reached the stages of transmuting one tal to another, though he wasn’t yet capable of converting base tals to rare ones like gold. Vibranium and adamantium remained frustratingly distant goals.
Days stretched into weeks without any alerts from his detection network in Arica. No sign of Captain Marvel’s arrival, no unusual cosmic energy signatures. Even Hogwarts was unusually quiet with nothing exciting happening. Arthur continued monitoring patiently.
By late May, spring had fully established itself across the Hogwarts grounds. The lake sparkled in the sunlight, flowers blood across the lawns, and students spent increasing amounts of ti outdoors between revision sessions. The third task lood nearer, but seed distant enough that most students paid it little mind.
On the evening of May 27th, Bagman gathered the four champions at the Quidditch pitch after dinner. Arthur arrived to find the once-familiar field completely transford—though he had never actually watched a Quidditch match himself. Too much of a crowd for his liking. The flat, grassy area was now crisscrossed with small hedges, barely knee-high but growing in patterns that clearly suggested what they would eventually beco.
"Hello there!" Bagman called cheerfully, bouncing on the balls of his feet as the champions assembled. "Well, what d’you think? Growing nicely, aren’t they? Give them a month and Hagrid’ll have them twenty feet high!"
"Don’t worry," Bagman continued, noticing Potter’s crestfallen expression as he stared at the ruined Quidditch pitch. "You’ll have your field back in pristine condition once the task is over! Now, I imagine you can guess what we’re making here?"
"Maze," grunted Krum, who looked distinctly unimpressed.
"That’s right!" Bagman bead. "The third task’s really very straightforward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the centre of the maze. The first champion to touch it will receive full marks."
"We simply ’ave to get through ze maze?" asked Fleur, flicking her silvery hair over her shoulder.
"There will be obstacles," Bagman said happily. "Hagrid is providing a number of creatures... then there will be spells that must be broken... all that sort of thing. Now, the champions who are leading on points will get a head start into the maze." He grinned at Arthur. "Then Mr. Potter will enter... then Mr. Krum... finally Miss Delacour. But you’ll all be in with a fighting chance, depending on how well you get past the obstacles. Should be fun, eh?"
The other champions nodded with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Arthur rely observed the growing hedges, trying to formulate a plan. Flying over might be the easiest thod, but Arthur didn’t know if there would be any precautions or rules against that. morising the pattern would also be bloody useless since the hedges—if he rembered correctly—seed to change their configuration as ti passed.
"Got it? Well, if there are no more questions, you can head back to the castle," Bagman concluded.
As they left the Quidditch pitch, Arthur observed Harry and Krum falling into step together, the Bulgarian apparently initiating a private conversation. Arthur knew what would follow—they would walk toward the Forbidden Forest, encounter the missing Barty Crouch Sr. who had escaped Voldemort’s control, and set in motion the events that would lead to the man’s death.
For a brief mont, Arthur considered intervening. He could follow them, prevent Crouch’s murder, perhaps even disrupt the Dark Lord’s resurrection plans entirely. But the thought passed quickly. Crouch was hardly an innocent victim; as a Ministry official, he’d sent many to Azkaban without trial, including Sirius Black. More importantly, Arthur had no interest in becoming entangled in the Wizarding world’s conflicts.
Let canon proceed as it was ant to and the wizarding world deal with its own troubles—Arthur had his own destiny to pursue, and it didn’t involve becoming a player in Britain’s wizarding war. A world he had no particular liking for. Let the canonical tragedy play out; it was Dumbledore’s ss to handle, not his.
He turned and walked back to the castle without a backward glance.
The following days saw a noticeable increase in tension among the seventh-years. The Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests, or NEWTs, normally scheduled for mid-to-late June, had been moved earlier to accommodate the third task. They would begin on June 1st, giving the champions—and all other students—ti after exams to rest and prepare for the tournant’s climax.
The change of schedule created a pressure-cooker atmosphere in the Hogwarts library, as seventh-years from all three schools competed for pri study spots and reference materials. Even the typically self-assured Durmstrang students showed signs of stress, while several Beauxbatons seventh-years were spotted weeping quietly among the Arithmancy shelves.
Arthur approached the examinations with practiced calm. His advanced preparation over the years ant that the material posed little challenge, though he had to be careful not to write answers that were too advanced. If the examiners required NEWT level answers and he wrote at a higher level, he might get marked down rather than up.
Soon the exam weeks were upon them. The written examinations ca first, followed by the practicals.
Arthur breezed through Charms, executed flawless Transfigurations, brewed perfect NEWT-level potions under Snape’s grudgingly neutral gaze, aced the complex calculations of Arithmancy, translated intricate Ancient Runes passages with ease, demonstrated advanced defensive and offensive magic in DADA practicals, and wrote comprehensive essays on Herbology theory. There were also History of Magic, Care of Magical Creatures, and Divination making up the complete set of ten NEWTs.
The exam period was taxing simply due to the volu of tests packed into two weeks, but intellectually, it was straightforward for him.
Finally, on June 15th, the ordeal was over. A collective sigh of relief seed to echo through the corridors as the seventh-years all removed their serious faces. Students erged blinking into the early sumr sunlight, exhausted but free. With the final task still over a week away, an unusual lull descended upon Hogwarts.
Arthur allowed himself a rare day of complete relaxation on June 16th. With exams behind him and the third task still more than a week away, he decided to spend the afternoon by the lake. Perhaps for the first ti in his Hogwarts career, he wasn’t studying, practicing magic, or working on a project—simply enjoying the warm sunshine while watching the giant squid lazily propel itself near the surface of the water.
As he reclined against a broad oak tree, letting his thoughts drift, a sudden vibration against his chest jolted him to alertness. The master crystal—connected to his detection network in Arica—was activating. He quickly sat up, reaching inside his robes to withdraw the glowing, pulsing stone.
The crystal’s bright blue glow confird what he had been waiting for. Sowhere in California, one of his sensors had detected a massive surge of cosmic energy. The specific pattern of pulses told him which sensor had been triggered—the one at the Blockbuster in Simi Valley.
"She’s here," he whispered, his heart suddenly pounding.
After months of waiting, planning, and preparation, the mont had arrived. Carol Danvers, the future Captain Marvel, had crash-landed on Earth. A jolt of adrenaline, sharper than any pre-task nerves, shot through him. This was it. His first real opportunity to witness and gauge the power levels of the Marvel universe firsthand.
Rising smoothly to his feet, Arthur tucked the glowing crystal away. There was no ti to waste. He needed to get to California, and he needed to get there now. The Vanishing Cabinet beckoned. The collision of the two universes was about to begin.
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