CHAPTER TWENTY: THE SECOND TASK

Hogwarts Grounds

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland

7 January 1995

Hermione took a shuddering breath as her heart leapt into her throat. She felt like she was going to vomit.

At the front of the tent, Bagman cheerfully gave the Potions vials a shake. "Each of these vials contains a mild poison," Bagman said with a grin. "Don't worry - it doesn't have any negative long term effects. However, it will cause mild dizziness, nausea, and lack of coordination. Luckily -" Bagman beamed "-there is an antidote, and the only thing that stands between you and the antidote is a seven-obstacle aerial obstacle course. You will gain points for each obstacle you pass, and get bonus points if you reach the end within thirty minutes. There is a maximum time limit of one hour for this task. The tournament coordinators have constructed three parallel courses, so all of you will complete the same obstacles at the same time. You are not allowed to interfere with the other champions.

"Does anyone have any questions?"

All three champions shook their heads mutely.

Bagman turned to leave, and then stopped at the tent door. "One last thing," he began dramatically, "the effects of the poison scale over time. You may not feel the effects at first, but as the task progresses, they may be strong enough to render you unconscious." Bagman held his hands up in a placating gesture. "Don't worry - your professors will be on hand to ensure no one gets hurt if they fall off their broom."

Hermione did not feel reassured in any sense of the word.

"The task will begin in about ten minutes - good luck!"

Bagman darted out of the tent, and Hermione felt like her knees would give way. She was half convinced she'd woken up in the midst of a horrible nightmare, and eventually she'd wake up. The second task had to be something, anything besides her personal worst-case scenario.

The nagging little voice in the back of her mind told her to stop whinging and just deal with it.

The much louder voice in the front of her mind told her to run, hide, and curl up into a tiny ball.

Hermione took a deep breath, and did her best to push her nervousness away. Closing her eyes, Hermione focused on the feeling of the earth beneath her boots, the cold scent of January air, and the blood coursing through her veins. Feeling substantially more centered, Hermione opened her eyes.

"Nervous?" Talon asked.

Hermione refused to let him unsettle her. "I'd be a fool not to be."

Talon chuckled, and moved to stand next to her. "Of course. Now, what do you make of our fine friend?"

Hermione glanced over at Georg. The Durmstrang champion was stoic, as always, with a slight note of smugness. "He doesn't seem worried," she murmured.

"Which makes him a fool."

Hermione looked at him sharply. "You think so?"

Talon shrugged. "I'm using your words."

Hermione nodded, and they were silent for a moment. "He unnerves me," she said quietly.

"How do you mean?"

"The way he looks at me..it's discomfiting."

Talon looked pensive. "I think Georg makes many people feel that way, even other Durmstrang students."

"Really? Stefan and Viktor didn't say much about him."

"I suspect they are skilled at keeping their own counsel. The Wiesler family is quite wealthy and has several high level connections in the German Ministry."

Hermione desperately tried not to feel inadequate. "I see."

An uncomfortable silence settled over them, and Hermione was saved from future conversational efforts by the return of Ludo Bagman.

Bagman rubbed his hands together in apparent glee. "If our youngest three champions could follow me, please, we are about to begin."

Hermione gulped, and followed Bagman out of the tent. A long flight of stairs lay before them, leading up to three narrow platforms.

"Your brooms have already been inspected by a team of professors from all three schools to ensure there was no tampering," Bagman said, straining with effort as he climbed the stairs. "You each will start on your own platform, and there are three parallel courses. As a reminder, do not," he said between pants, "try to interfere with each other, or you will receive a score of zero. Now, Mr. du Feu will be on the left, Miss Granger will be in the center, and Mr. Wiesler will be on the right. Your, ah, poisons, will be on your platform. After I announce the task, there will be a countdown from five, then a whistle will sound. On the whistle, you are to consume the potion, and you may start the task. Any questions?"

A thought popped into Hermione's head. "Actually, yes. The amount of poison has been adjusted for each of our weights, right?"

Bagman paused in his climbing. "Er, I believe so?"

"If it hasn't, it really should be," Hermione said testily, "Especially given that I am smaller than the other two champions by several stone. If I'm given the same dose as they are, I will be significantly more inconvenienced. That's not exactly sporting, is it, Mr. Bagman?"

Bagman looked uncomfortable, and with a sudden flash of insight Hermione knew they hadn't thoroughly considered the weight of the participants. It was such a stupid thing to overlook, and something any Potions student beyond third year could tell you. Anger burned through Hermione's veins, chasing any nervousness away. She had no hope that Bagman would actually do anything about the poison this close to the start of the task, and she'd have to muddle her way through it the best she could. If they wanted to stack the deck against her, fine, they could do it. But there was no way they could expect her to go down without a fight.

The rest of the climb passed in silence punctured only by Bagman's heavy breathing. Hermione did her best to project calm even though she was seething inside.

It wasn't fair, but then again, nothing was. Nothing had been fair since the moment she received her Hogwarts letter, despite claims that it would be otherwise. Sure, she hadn't been miles behind anyone else academically when she'd started Hogwarts, but she'd been behind in other ways. No one had mentioned that you should buy a small knife to keep your quills sharp, nor explained how to write with them. No one had bothered to explain any of the idiosyncrasies of Pureblood culture until Lily and Millie had discovered how much she didn't know.

It wasn't bloody fair. No matter how hard she tried, no matter how many times she was the top of their class, no matter how many asinine cultural rules she memorized, she'd still be viewed as a stupid Muggleborn.

Hermione shook her head to clear it. There was no use getting angry about things she couldn't fix, especially when there were more important matters at hand.

They reached a split in the stairs, and Bagman gestured Talon to the left and Georg to the right while he and Hermione continued up the central stair. The cold January air whipped at Hermione's hair once she arrived on the platform, and she was immediately grateful for Harry's old Quidditch gear. The broom she borrowed from the Slytherin Quidditch team laid on a table to her right, alongside a vial of that damned poison. A complex floating structure hung in the air about thirty meters away from the platform; the task ahead of her was clear.

Bagman climbed up to a raised dais. "Sonorous. Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the second task of the Triwizard Tournament!" Bagman boomed. "We will begin today's task with our youngest champions, and progress from there. Today's task focuses each champion's ability to think on the fly -"

There were a few chuckles from the spectators.

"- Our youngest champions will face an aerial obstacle course with different physical and mental challenges. However," Bagman continued, wagging his finger, "their task is not that simple. Before beginning the task, each champion will consume the contents of one of these vials, which contains a mild poison designed to cause nausea, dizziness, and a general lack of coordination."

Hermione squared her shoulders. She refused to appear intimidated.

"Who is excited for the second task to begin?" Bagman bellowed.

The crowd roared its approval.

"The task will begin in...Five! Four! Three! Two! One!"

A whistle screeched in the distance, and Hermione bolted forward, consuming the poison in one gulp. Wordlessly, she summoned her broom, and mounted it, and kicked off the platform. She didn't feel any adverse effects from the poison yet, besides a foul taste in her mouth, but she wasn't about to become overconfident.

Hermione flattened herself against the broom handle as she whizzed towards the chaos of the floating structure. The broom thrummed under her hands as the wind whipped through her hair. As adrenaline pumped through her veins, Hermione could finally understand why her friends loved flying. There was something primal about shooting through the air on a broom, something she couldn't quite put into words.

Hermione had never felt so alive.

The structure loomed before her, and a small dark tunnel opened in the wall in front of her. Hermione grimaced, and slowed her broom down enough that she could grip it with one hand and her knees. Carefully, she removed her wand from its sheath.

"Lumos."

The wandlight did little to penetrate the gloom, and Hermione secured her wand to her broom. When Millie had suggested adding an additional wand sheath to the broom handle, Hermione had thought it sounded stupid. Now, it made all the sense in the world. It'd be much easier to grab her wand quickly if she needed it, and she didn't have to sacrifice control of her broom to have a stable light source.

Cautiously, Hermione urged the broom forward into the mouth of the tunnel. Her visibility was still poor, and Hermione frowned before regripping her wand.

"Lumos Maximus."

Bright light flooded out of the wand tip, and Hermione grimaced. The good news was that she could now see the entire tunnel space before her. The bad news was that it abruptly turned at a ninety-degree angle, and she couldn't see around the corner.

"Best proceed carefully, then," Hermione muttered.

A few minutes later, the purpose of the winding tunnel became clear. Not only was it tricky to navigate, but it also was the perfect place to hide different sorts of dangerous magical creatures. There'd been multiple places where she had to discmount her broom and wade through waist-deep water filled with grindylows. Hinkypunks attempted to lead her down small, narrow passages, and Hermione stoutly ignored them.

She had a goal. A mission. She wasn't going to let some stupid hinkypunk distract her.

Hermione shook her head to clear it. The creeping feeling of dizziness and nausea had been subtle at first, but now it was threatening her concentration. Hermione forced herself to ignore it. The faster she got through the course, the quicker she could reach the antidote. There was no time to waste.

Heart racing, Hermione continued to navigate the twisting tunnel. The parchment she'd received at the end of the first task had mentioned seven obstacles, but Hermione had no idea what constituted an obstacle. Was each pool of grindylows an obstacle? Did the red caps and kappas count as one obstacle, or two since they'd inhabited the same small chamber? Or, even worse, did the entire twisting tunnel only count as a single obstacle?

If that was the case, Hermione knew she was doomed. She was smaller than the other champions, and dark spots had begun to flit in the corners of her vision. If she didn't get out of the tunnel soon, she wasn't sure how she could ever hope to complete the task.

Without warning, a stone wall materialized in front of her, and Hermione pulled up on her broom handle in blind panic, sending herself soaring towards the ceiling of the tunnel. Swearing profusely, Hermione managed to get the broom back under control, and blinked rapidly to clear her vision.

It was getting harder to think. Had the wall been before her the entire time, or was it just another obstacle placed in her way? It didn't make sense that it was a dead end, unless she should have battled her way through a mass of hinkypunks to access one of the side passages.

Hermione swallowed. Perhaps she was supposed to blast her way through the wall. The Blasting Curse was advanced enough to make the task difficult, and required a significant amount of mental strength. Hermione flew backwards away from the wall, and brandished her wand.

"Confringo!"

A fiery orange light poured out of her wand, and raced towards the wall ahead. Hermione braced herself for the inevitable explosion, heart pounding, and the incantation for the Shield Charm on her lips.

Nothing happened.

Hermione raised her wand again, holding the picture of a clear passage in her mind. She needed to get through. She needed to complete the task. "CONFRINGO!"

Orange light rushed out of her wand in a wave, but still, nothing happened. Hermione stared at the wall in confusion.

"Maybe it's warded against the Blasting Curse," she muttered. "Best take a closer look, then."

Swaying slightly on her broom, Hermione flew closer to the wall. If it was warded against the Blasting Curse, she'd have to find the rune matrices that powered the wards, and find a way to disable them.

"Reperio rune clusters," Hermione said, tapping the wall in front of her. Unsurprisingly, nothing happened. The Seeking Charm had a limited range, and Hermione had limited hopes of finding anything.

Hermione drifted lower on the wall, eyes catching on a section that was a lighter grey than the rest of the stone.

"Hmm. If that doesn't look suspicious, then I'm a Hufflepuff. Reperio rune clusters." Hermione tapped her wand against the stone, and stared in disbelief as it melted away to reveal a short tunnel with sunlight on the other end.

"Huh."

Hermione flew upwards, and slowly entered the tunnel, stomach lurching the entire time. The black spots refused to exit her field of vision, and Hermione could only grit her teeth and force herself onward.

The tunnel continued to widen, and suddenly, Hermione was once again surrounded by daylight. Squinting, Hermione could see another small platform in the distance, one that had a small table on it.

Her heart leapt, and she urged the broom forwards. Hermione could feel herself swaying, and forcefully locked her knees and ankles. She couldn't afford to fail. Not here. Not now.

Dark spots continued to dance before her eyes, and Hermione's stomach roiled as she increased her speed.

She was so focused on flying that she didn't see the shimmering air in front of her until it was too late. Without warning, everything was the wrong way around. Hermione's stomach heaved, and she nearly choked on her own vomit.

Somehow, she managed to stay on her broom. Hermione desperately tried to roll herself back on top of the broom, but her arms were too weak. Dark spots threatened to take over her vision entirely, and for a moment, Hermione contemplated giving in. Then she remembered Bagman's callousness with the poison, Georg's unsettling stares, and the awful mudblood comments she never could escape.

There was no way she could give in, not now.

Gritting her teeth, Hermione continued to fly forward while clinging to the underside of her broom. It felt like she was making no progress when, suddenly, the world flipped itself again.

Hermione nearly threw up.

Somehow the final platform was much closer now, and Hermione couldn't quite figure out why. Slowly, painfully, Hermione made her way towards the platform, and gingerly dismounted her broom, not trusting the wood beneath her feet. Hermione stumbled forward, scarcely able to stand as the platform lurched beneath her feet. She'd never felt this sick, not in all her life.

Hermione grabbed the bottle with two hands, and stared dumbly at the cork. Her legs trembled beneath her, and Hermione half-sat, half-fell onto the platform as her vision went black. Panic overwhelmed her, and Hermione fumbled around for the bottle, wedging it between her knees, hands scrabbling desperately to release the cork. After an agonizing moment, it popped free.

Hermione brought the bottle to her lips, and knew no more.

Headmaster's Office

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland

7 January 1995

"Severus. Take a seat."

"Who designed that task?"

Albus frowned at him. "The Triwizard Planning committee, but that isn't what -"

"My student is currently in the Hospital Wing," Severus hissed, "because of an overdose of a 'harmless poison'."

"She also won the task," Albus said mildly.

"Sod the task. I want to know who thought it was a good idea to poison a group of fourteen and fifteen year old school children, and which fool didn't think to scale the dose to the size of the participant!"

"Severus, please."

"Miss Granger is extremely lucky she didn't break her neck," Severus said coldly. "I fail to see how that is unimportant."

"It is important, and I will be certain to investigate. However, as I attempted to state earlier, this is not the purpose of this meeting. Now, if you could take a seat-"

Severus glared at Albus for a heartbeat before sitting.

"-I have far more serious matters to discuss."

A feeling of foreboding settled over the room.

"Would you care for tea?"

"No."

Albus steepled his fingers. "Severus, when we spoke in August regarding Voldemort…"

"I said what I meant," Severus said sharply, cutting Albus off. "If you summoned me here to cajole me…"

"People are dying. Muggles are being attacked…"

"How do you know it was the Dark Lord," Severus cut in. "Has the Dark Mark been spotted? Have there been Death Eaters spotted at the scene of the crime?"

"No, but -"

"Then how can you sit here and presume to understand the situation?"

"Voldemort always seeks to cause fear. This is only the beginning."

"You have no evidence that the Dark Lord caused the attacks. Muggles have their own terrorists."

"There was evidence magic was used," Albus said, peering over his glasses. "If there is any information you have on Voldemort's plans, you would be wise to share it, unless you wish to have more blood on your hands."

Severus' hands clenched. "I meant what I said in August." Severus stood. "Now, if you'll excuse me…"

"You cannot continue to be complacent, not when lives are at risk. I implore you, for the Greater Good..."

"Do not use those words against me," Severus said coldly. "You have no idea what I've sacrificed for your 'Greater Good.'" He turned to leave.

"Have you told Aurora?"

Severus froze. "What?"

Dumbledore stared at him, eyes blazing. "Have you told Aurora about where your loyalties truly lie?"

Severus' mind flashed back to the unfinished argument he'd had with Aurora in November, and guilt coursed through him in a hot wave. Severus gritted his teeth. "You'll find, Headmaster, that my personal life is none of your business. Good day."

Severus swept out of the office, desperately trying to ignore the guilt that followed him.

A/N: We're getting close to the end of White Rook, I'm estimating about five to six chapters more!