Chapter Text
27 May 1995, Waiting Room of the Coliseum, the Coliseum, Lands of the Scuola Regina
Alexandra had thought the clothes Lady Zabini had somehow convinced her to accept were over the top.
True, they could serve as a swimsuit, while also covering every part of her body.
The facts remained: right now, she had donned something that made her appear as if her entire body was covered in emerald and black scales, while her hair had been tied into a martial braid.
The illusion wasn't completely perfect, thankfully. Any outside eye would look at her and think it was some kind of sportswear made of scales, or fashioned to imitate scales, not paint directly giving an unnatural shade to her colour, or even a partial Animagus transfiguration.
Nonetheless, it remained a very splendid statement, one that felt more appropriate for a Champion of Slytherin than Ravenclaw. And it was a lot of effort for something that might be shredded in a single day.
This 'Snake Uniform' was not armour, or incorporating any kind of defensive enchantment; the rules of the Tournament forbid that.
After observing herself in a mirror, Alexandra had thought that surely the other Champions wouldn't be so vain as to imitate the fashion statement suggested by her magical guardian.
A thought that only lasted three seconds: the time it took to enter the Waiting Room, and stare at Lyudmila Romanov.
"Are you trying to look like a Dark Valkyrie?"
Yes, the reaction had escaped her lips.
But it was perfectly justified.
Black hair, black armour, black helmet; the Dark Queen looked like she had come for war, which was more theatrical than real, as they hadn't the right to don proper armour in the first place. The metal had to be more decorative than practical to be authorised by the Judges.
"I will have you know that it is a very traditional attire where Champions of Loki are concerned, Alexandra."
Somehow, the young Ravenclaw didn't think it was a coincidence that the helmet transformed at that moment to show two giant horns that spread 'trickster' all around.
"If you say so, Lyudmila."
The Champion of Death went to lean against the wall next to the Champion of Chaos and crossed her arms.
"I'm going to concede your costume is nice." Alexandra continued. "You better hope we're not going to be in a place with low ceilings, though."
The Dark Queen snickered.
"At least I am far better than Lucrezia."
"What did she do this time?"
"You haven't seen her?"
"The crowd was a bit too large, and I didn't have the urge to fight my way to parade before the press. There will be plenty of time for that later. So no, I didn't see the others. I went directly to the Judges' room to get the procedures done, and I was then escorted here. Why?"
"Well..." the girl who now had every right to be called the true daughter of Loki smirked. "Let's just say that Lucrezia Sforza may have believed that it is time to use the Carnival Costumes she wasn't able to don because the Fourth Task was cancelled too early. Except now that she's the Water Champion, she did have to add more adornments."
Alexandra groaned.
"How many feathers and other outrageous things are we talking about?"
Lyudmila rolled her eyes.
"For the feathers, we need to count them by the dozens, I think."
The emerald green eyes of Death blinked.
"That would be damn impractical at the best of times, and we're going to be sailing upon dangerous waters," Alexandra said slowly before grimacing. "Though like me, I suppose she has a Changelina. If she's in a bad situation, she can always remove the outrageous costume and get into a proper swimsuit."
"That artefact is damn unfair, you know."
"I had to remove all the magical costumes, armours, and other toys that could be considered additional help."
"Still a massive help," the Champion of Chaos didn't stop smirking, "but it won't stop me from winning the Task and the Tournament."
"I think a few other competitors are going to have something to say about that." Alexandra let her eyes begin to turn serpentine. "Beginning with me."
"You're not making a critique that it is unworthy of someone of my rank?"
Alexandra rolled her eyes.
"The moment we signed the papers and went on to make our informal vows at the Opening Ceremony, we were in it to win, Lyudmila. It's not related to the rumours, is it?"
Alexandra hadn't put much stock upon them personally; yes, Lyudmila Romanov couldn't rely upon the Tsar's generosity anymore, but it wasn't exactly translating into the Dark Queen being poor. Just to begin with, a significant sum of loot and prized possessions had been saved from Saint Petersburg. Every Champion with the eyes to see knew that.
Of course, getting the large prize money that was to the reward of the victor of the European Magical Tournament wasn't a small detail, in the end.
Add the coins and the artefacts which would be spread around after the scores of the Seventh task were determined, and there were significant sums of money involved.
"You're too calm. You're preparing something."
"I am." To an Animagus with the magical skill to perceive any lie, no matter how slim, it wasn't worth wasting her saliva. "But then so are you."
"I admit my guilt, yes. What is it?"
Alexandra chuckled.
"Heiress of Chaos," she began with all the dignity she could muster while not trying to laugh, "are you expecting me to gloat and reveal my flawless plan?"
There was a pause for a few seconds.
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, then. But you will have to wait with all the others."
"You're not funny at all," Lyudmila half-heartedly protested. "And here I was going to promise you a grand and magnificent alliance."
"One where you would backstab me at the last minute, gaining both Task and Tournament in a fantastic chaotic showdown?"
"There have been too many Tasks; you're beginning to predict my moves way too far in advance."
"I don't think-"
Alexandra didn't find the strength to finish the sentence. Not when Viktor Krum entered, disguised in what had to be a spectacular combination of Quidditch Robes and a Bat Costume. It was intended as threatening...maybe?
But with the illumination of the enchanted lights and everything...it was...it was-
"Oh, Krum, we're not going to fly today!" And the Dark Queen exploded into laughter, a small hint, that yes, she found the red-black costume of the Durmstrang Seeker absolutely ridiculous.
27 May 1995, the Judges' Lodge, the Coliseum
"Is everything meeting your approval, Headmaster?"
Filius Flitwick quickly nodded. He had been warned about all the modifications and the various changes of strategies by the different Hogwarts Champions, so there wasn't anything surprising.
"Yes, yes it is," the former Duelling Champion replied formally.
"Good, then for the record?"
Filius took the time to drink a glass of water and clear his throat.
"For the record, the first Caravel Crew of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry will have Champion Alexandra Potter as Captain, and will be accompanied by Substitutes Morag MacDougal and Hermione Granger."
As the former Head of House Ravenclaw, Filius was a bit disappointed more wouldn't have been chosen to form a legendary crew, especially since the numbers were available.
But as his favourite student had informed him, placing Cho Chang in a situation where she was going to sulk most of the time was not a good idea, and Roger Davies suffered from sea sickness the moment he went on over a surface of water bigger than a bath. Choosing them wasn't a good idea, and as grim as it was, the Tournament was a competition, not a moment to have some fun.
"Duly noted and recorded."
"The second Hogwarts' Caravel Crew will be the one of Champion Angelina Johnson, seconded by Substitutes Ronald Weasley and Neville Longbottom."
Minerva had sent him a letter to thank him personally for that, incidentally. In Filius' opinion, that she had bothered to do this but not to tell him how she continued working for one Albus Dumbledore told him how screwed the priorities of his ex-colleague were.
"Good. No objection, dear colleagues?"
"Mr. Longbottom has proven to be stable during the training sessions," the Greek Judge commented drily. "Let's hope it will continue. We would not enjoy disqualifying Mr. Longbottom from all European inter-schools and academic competitions, but we would do it if it proves to be necessary."
Filius didn't reply. There had been a teacher's reunion a week ago, everything had been said then.
"The third Hogwarts' Caravel Crew will be led by Champion Cedric Diggory, and the Substitutes who will be part of it are Cho Chang, Tamsin Applebee, and Malcolm Preece."
"The Champion is aware that there will be one point deducted for an additional substitute?"
This was very much for the record, of course, as the stands of the Coliseum were at last allowed to fill with hundreds of spectators.
"Champion Cedric Diggory is aware, yes." And there could have been one additional Substitute, if there hadn't been some friction between the Hufflepuffs.
"Then the crew's roster is heard and approved. The fourth ship, Headmaster Flitwick?"
Ah yes, the fourth Caravel Crew...
Though it may not be an accurate description for it.
The Great Disaster. The Sinking Calamity. The Misfit Crew. Filius had heard a lot of nicknames for it in the last forty-eight hours since he had arrived to watch the last Task of the Tournament.
"The fourth Caravel will be commanded by Champion Theodore Nott." And Merlin's beard, it was hard to not show the consternation he felt in his heart. "His Substitutes will be Blaise Zabini, Lucian Bole, and Eurig Cadwallader."
The latter's addition had been decided roughly seventy-two hours ago. And if someone thought it was extremely surprising to see a Hufflepuff student side with Slytherins, especially one who wasn't called Zacharias Smith, yes, it was.
But said person manifesting his or her surprise would have missed that Tamsin Applebee had refused the amorous advances of Eurig Cadwallader, and instead went on to date Malcolm Preece. Needless to say, after that, Champion Diggory had widely refused to allow the two feuding Badgers to share the same ship.
Eurig Cadwallader had pushed to be allowed to participate anyway, and the Slytherin Champion had been the only one willing to recruit him.
"Champion Nott is aware that having no points at the moment we're speaking won't be treated as a reason to exempt him from the rules?"
"He is aware, yes."
Filius had met the Nott Heir for several hours in an attempt to make him change his mind. For yes, it was an absolutely awful idea. Eurig Cadwallader had not sailed with the Slytherins for the better part of a month, and he didn't seem to have cordial relationships with anyone but Blaise Zabini aboard his new crew.
It was a recipe for a catastrophic performance.
But no Champion of his school really cared if Theodore Nott humiliated himself. As a result, Eurig Cadwallader was transferred respecting the official procedures.
Still it was-
Instincts which had been forged during years on the Duellist Circuit resurfaced, and Filius moved.
The dodge was not pleasant to see, but it did the job.
A second later, the Transylvanian Judge who had not had this kind of instinct received a large cream tart straight in the face.
"Oh, come on!" the former Quidditch player protested loudly, as the crowd exploded into cheers, applause, and raucous amusement. "I didn't do anything to deserve this!"
His chair chose that moment to break cleanly, like the moment had been prepared for a comedy.
Filius immediately looked all around the Coliseum.
This whole affair had the fingerprints of the Weasley Twins masterfully printed upon it...and obviously, the Master Pranksters of house Gryffindor were nowhere in sight.
27 May 1995, the Lake Arena, the Starting Line of the Seventh Task, the Coliseum
Needless to say, there wasn't a single empty seat when they entered the arena.
And the amount of noise which assaulted her senses had to be heard to be believed.
All of that didn't bring out any stress or anxiety anymore. Had it in the past? Had she felt nervous when it was time to participate in the First Task?
It had been so long ago...
"I see several Judges are trying to get rid of some cream on their faces," Morag commented while trying not to chuckle behind her. "Sweet vengeance has begun, eh?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Morag." Yes, she said it in an innocent tone.
Given how loudly Angelina Johnson snorted next to her, the Lady Protector didn't think she had fooled anyone important.
"I'm just saying I'm pretty surprised they were able to banish the cream with a single spell, that's all."
"That's because the cream has been prepared with some ingredients that are ridiculously hard to remove without magic," the Hydra Animagus answered. "Well, that's just a guess. I don't have anything to do about this tragic...I mean this cream accident."
"Was it really necessary to annoy them?" Cedric asked. "Now the Task is going to be way harder, I just know it."
Alexandra blinked, before turning to face the Hufflepuff Champion, who for today had apparently decided to don flamboyant yellow robes that looked way too impractical for proper aquatic manoeuvres. The enormous Badger mascots and furred hats were rather funny; she wasn't going to deny it.
However, those words were just nonsense.
"Cedric. Assuming I was behind this cream attack...which I am not, of course, since I am a merciful Champion in no way interested in revenge and retribution..."
"Next she's going to tell us she's vegetarian," Morag snickered like a perfect traitor, her orange-black striped swimsuit-sportswear matching the colours of her Animagus form.
"Hush, you!" Alexandra hissed threateningly. "As I was saying, even if, by some miraculous turn of events, it was proven that I was behind this creamy offensive, only someone having missed the previous Tasks would believe that the Judges are going to propose something easy."
"The time of murderous traps and everything is over."
Alexandra laughed.
"They didn't let us train with perfect copies of the Caravels because they loved us, oh Hufflepuff Champion. They did give us some time because they wanted to avoid the kind of bloodbath that was the norm in the First Task. We aren't asked to joyously use the skulls of defeated Champions as improvised glasses, but this doesn't mean the Task isn't going to be dangerous."
The favourite student of Professor Sprout narrowed his eyes.
"You know something we don't."
"I know a lot of things you ignore." And with every week, Alexandra would honestly be able to build a new library to contain said knowledge. "Anyway, our fellow Champions are coming."
Hogwarts had been chosen to enter first, and yes it had been a random draw.
Durmstrang came second.
Much like her own school, Alexandra was really amused that the students of Karkaroff hadn't been able to find a common theme. Astrid and Katharina had been 'convinced' by Lyudmila to go for the 'Loki Valkyrie' costumes, but evidently, the three other Champions had refused.
Krum had clearly decided to go for the 'Bat-Man Quidditch Player' looks, and his two Substitutes had copied him. But Ulrich Fuchs had come in a dark black army uniform, a stark plain martial garb that gave her unpleasant vibes.
But if Fuchs had decided simplicity was the order of the day, Johann Wolffhart had gone for the other extreme: heavy furs, large parade axes to impress the crowd, long fake beards...or were they real ones conjured by Charms and Potions? Anyway, Wolffhart and his lieutenants had gone for the 'savage chieftains of the North' presentation.
"They seem to agree with you, Alexandra," Hermione said quietly, her own 'dress' the colour of the Antarctic Fur Seal. "The Durmstrang Champions are ready for war."
"I am not worried about that," the Champion of Death admitted honestly. "I'm more...concerned that they have taken two substitutes each."
Yeah, that meant no point deduction for them. And it also hinted that all Champions had made the smart choice of not summoning someone that would be a hindrance during the Task.
A shorter number of substitutes who knew what they were doing beat a large number of wizards and witches who didn't.
"If it is an attempt to discourage us-"
Nott's words were drowned out by the crowd's thunderous roar, for the Champions of the Scuola Regina made their grand entrance.
As she had been warned beforehand, Lucrezia Sforza had really gone all out. There were so many feathers...oh, and was it blue silk? And blue feathers, and gold. And-
"Honestly," Ron Weasley blurted out. "Is she trying to win a Carnival Prize?"
It was a very sad day that Alexandra had to agree with the red-haired boy.
"It certainly feels that way. But don't underestimate her."
By contrast, Giovanni Ruspoli had gone for more 'respectable' attire, one involving a large pointed hat, and a fake grimoire in the hands of he and his substitutes. Black-blue robes, the bespectacled Champion was dressed to impress, but it remained firmly in the 'original but not too much' category.
All of that was gotten rid of when Eleonora da Riva entered. It was as if the morning sun had descended from the heavens to take part in the Seventh Task. Her gown was incredibly long, and white-gold besides. She very much looked like a Roman Priestess of ages long gone. She was very regal; there wasn't any doubt about it.
Less than thirty seconds after came Romeo Malatesti, who had not gone for subtle either. His hands were covered in long 'claws' of metal, and all his traits had been hidden by an armour shaped to be as close as possible to a silver-steel-coloured tiger.
"Reassure me, they don't have Changelina artefacts, no?"
"They don't," Alexandra answered, before wincing, "as far as I am aware, of course."
"Of course."
Two substitutes for each of the Champions too. And the Succubae behind Lucrezia were powerful in their own right. It wasn't going to be easy...but then when had the Tournament been easy, really?
"And here comes Fire..."
Alexandra sensed the power of Fleur Delacour burn against her skin long seconds before the Phoenix came into view.
"You have admitted Fire suits her..."
"I admit nothing. And she took the Gryffindor colours."
Red and gold, and the Veela could wear them far better than Angelina Johnson or any other member of the House of Godric.
To her senses, though, it was a giant prey bird of flames, constantly burning and rising, an inferno that had no beginning or end.
"Ambre de Courtois...I don't recognise the theme, it's some kind of forest-thing? Martin Bayard came as a Musketeer, though. And Eugenie Millet is dressed more like she's a revolutionary about to storm the Bastille."
"No one really did choose common themes for each school," Hermione noted.
"Let's be fair, the School Competition is quasi-won by the Scuola Regina already. And we all know it was the individual rankings which excited everyone."
"True," Alexandra nodded.
At last, the giant Gate at the centre of the arena activated, revealing...the Venetian Lagoon right behind it.
"What a surprise...oh wait, it's not."
"It's only the first part of the 'regatta', in all likelihood," Alexandra calculated, all the while changing her eyes in order for her Hydra senses to perceive everything she could.
"Weather is good, we're going to sail in near-perfect conditions today."
For a training session, the Hydra Champion would have approved.
For the race? There was zero reason to cheer.
She was going to go first, and with these conditions, the term 'perfect target' could apply to her.
"We're going with Plan Two Towers," the Champion of the Morrigan decided.
Morag grimaced.
"Are you certain? It seems awfully risky to me. If we're wrong-"
In the Judges' Lodge, a chair broke, and one of the male 'sadists' suddenly found himself stuck to a cursed pillow that was generating a lot of jelly-like substance.
The Coliseum howled in laughter.
"If I am wrong, we will lose very badly. But let's have fun before that, shall we?"
27 May 1995, the Exchequer Lodge, the Coliseum
"Your daughter seems to have decided to go in an all-prankster mode today."
As one more Judge began to sing an opera in Italian with a vigour that was quite remarkable, Lilian mused that her old Potions Professor had a gift for summing up the obvious.
"It certainly feels that way," the red-haired vampire smirked. "I don't see the main culprits behind the pranks, alas."
It was probably for the better for the sons of Molly Weasley, because the Judges had sent plenty of agents among the spectators with the hope to catch whoever was attacking them with tricks and funny enchanted objects.
"But if the hope was to delay the beginning of the Task with a comedic Interlude, I am afraid it isn't going to work."
"Yes."
Once every minute, a Judge was 'neutralised', but with a team of Enchanters and Curse-Breakers now waiting by their side, the 'surprises' were cancelled in a couple of minutes, meaning there were never more than two officials unable to speak or act.
Yes, it generated a lot of amusement among the public and beyond that, but it didn't have a chance of influencing the events of the Task in any way.
The Champions all had to wait, far away from their respective Caravels, and if someone was so stupid as to use his or her wand, it would be immediately remarked upon.
"Champions! Your attention, please!"
The cheers abated, and something close to silence was obtained.
"Thank you! Now for the Rules of the Seventh Task you've been waiting for! The Task itself is a Caravel Race! It is divided into seven different sections, each of them separated by a Gate the Champions will have to get through. In order to complete the Task per se, a Champion has to reach the finish line with a caravel able to float under its own power, all of the Substitute Crew they began with, and three Symbols of Victory!"
Lilian raised an eyebrow, for while the murmurs spread like an avalanche, the Judge pointedly didn't explain what the 'Symbols of Victory' were in the first place.
This didn't bode well at all for the Champions.
"To not make it too easy for our courageous competitors, there is a time limit! The Champions have until sunset to sail to victory!"
That bad, eh?
"Like during the Fifth Task, incentives are given to lead the race from start to finish. With the exception of the first Gate that everyone can see here, the first Champion to get through a portal will earn three points, the second will be rewarded with two points, and the third will win one point."
Something was definitely wrong.
The novice Enchantress hadn't compiled the list of rules for every Task, but she was almost sure that every circle of stone used for the Broom Race had brought ten points to whoever passed through it first.
Ten, not three.
"And in the previous Tasks, they were graded on a score that had a maximum of one hundred points, not two hundred..."
This was getting more and more intriguing.
Okay, 'intriguing' for the spectators like her. There was a blade somewhere which was going to bleed a lot of fingers when it fell.
"Boxes are on the decks of every Caravel, filled with resin parts and other items allowing a Champion to begin repairs on their ship should they think it is necessary! And while I know many of the proud and courageous wizards and witches are thinking about one thing, I encourage you to remember that there are more important values to defend!"
Oh, and now the Judges were delivering the cryptic messages.
It was going to bring great successes...
Just kidding.
The Champions were all watching each other like a group of hyenas which had smelled blood.
All except her daughter, that was.
Alexandra's eyes had not moved at all; they remained staring at the first enchanted Gate that marked the beginning of the Task.
"This is going to be interesting."
One second later, their colleague of the Exchequer serving among the Judges had the pointed surprise to see antlers growing between her hair.
"All right, I'm impressed," Horace Slughorn chuckled. "How did they achieve this?"
"I don't know," Lilian admitted, as the Judge who had just spoken was forced to stop, since his voice had suddenly begun to croak like a toad. "But if I was in charge of this Tournament, I would give points for originality and avoiding the Judges' security teams...
"Is it a pointed message about being better Judges next time?"
"That assumes there is a next time..."
"Yes, of course!"
27 May 1995, the Lake-Arena, the Starting Line of the Seventh Task, the Coliseum
"I see someone painted a large Hydra on my sails. Morag?"
"I have no idea who could have possibly done it, Alex!"
"You were the one guarding the ship yesterday evening after I left!"
"They must have evaded my vigilance between two blinks of my eyes!"
Alexandra looked at the black and gold paint.
It must have been the work of one hour, and maybe more than that.
The Hydra Animagus shook her head.
One might think that defeating armies and giant monsters would prompt some respect in her surroundings, but evidently, it wasn't working.
Fortunately, her second crewmate was not implicated in that deplorable affair.
"Nervous, Hermione?"
"Yes," the bushy-haired girl spoke as the sails of their ship were unfurled. "I mean, I did know we were going to do it in front of tens of thousands of spectators...but it's different when you're in the arena, you know?"
"I know what you mean, yes." Her eyes went back to the Gate. "Let's see the good side: we are going to be in familiar territory, at least where the first stage of the regatta is concerned."
Because yes, on the other side of the recently activated Gate, the Venetian Lagoon was waiting for them.
"That's true, I guess." Morag replied. "But it is only the first stage. And the Judges have mentioned seven of them. Plus my great sailing experience tells me we're going to be hellishly exposed here. With thirty seconds of advance, the other ships are going to hunt us down."
"That's why I decided to go for Plan Two Towers."
"We could try to pass the first...I mean, second Gate in first position."
"We could," Alexandra agreed before grimacing. "But don't forget we would do it for a mere three points."
It was Morag's turn to grimace.
"We make a good crew."
"At this point, I'm not sure 'good' is enough, not with an entire fleet in pursuit, not with a dozen Champions who know that if I win the Task, it is game over for them."
Alexandra raised the anchor by herself, before moving on to take the helm of the Hydra-themed Caravel.
"No, we go for Plan Two Towers. I didn't like at all how mysterious the Judges were in the first place. Plus of course, if they think we may need until sunset for the Task, I fear we're going to badly need the hours."
"You're the Captain...I mean, the Lady Protector."
Alexandra snorted.
"And don't you dare forget it. Hermione, prepare your best navigation spells."
"I'm ready."
"Good."
"IN FIRST PLACE, REPRESENTING HOGWARTS SCHOOL, CHAMPION ALEXANDRA POTTER, THREE HUNDRED AND NINETY POINTS!"
On her left the Germanic-themed ships and the Loki-blessed Caravel, on her right, hulls that were more decorated than some gondolas she'd seen during the Fourth Task.
Never had the description 'being surrounded by allies and enemies' sounded truer than now.
"THE SEVENTH TASK...BEGINS NOW!"
Morag and Hermione cast their spells, and as the crowd roared so loudly it might have been possible to miss an explosion of thunder, their Caravel sailed forwards and passed through the first Gate.
27 May 1995, the Venetian Lagoon, First Stage of the Seventh Task
Astrid had seen many things coming.
Being called to serve by the Dark Queen for the last Task, yes, she had anticipated it. It hadn't taken a lot of talent, not with Roksana and Irina getting sea-sick most of the time.
The Valkyrie costumes had also been predicted long in advance; Lyudmila Romanov had not exactly been discreet when contacting several costume-makers of the Scuola Regina.
That was why they were all looking like Dark Valkyries, by the way, standing on a ship that had been modified to give it the most threatening appearance possible, including the skull of some giant beast at the prow.
Yeah, there had been many things she had expected and negotiated to her advantage.
But her cousin's ship staying under the wind and letting about the entire 'Champion fleet' overtake her without putting up any kind of resistance?
Yeah, that was not something she'd seen coming.
"She is-"
"I see it, Astrid." The Champion of Loki had kept her eyes closed, and darkness was pouring out of her hands, the sign a powerful and very Dark Curse was being prepared. "I confess it is a surprise."
"Yes. Alexandra is going to lose a lot of points. The next Gate is several miles away...but it's not that far away. She won't be able to catch up with us in time."
The ship – that you couldn't miss due to the green hull and the giant hydra baring fangs on the sails – was at last moving, but not showing any sign of urgent participation. In fact, there was so little wind poured into the spells that Ulrich Fuchs' ships was beginning to overtake the Caravel too.
Their dark captain snorted, right as her eyes turned serpentine and her hair became a river of crimson.
"Alexandra must be gambling that the trials of this Task will cripple us before she involves herself."
"Err...Lyudmila?" Katharina cleared her throat. "There's not a single trial on this Lagoon...at least, I've not seen a single monster."
"In that case-"
It was the moment their Dark Caravel had to violently veer off-course, as giant spikes almost rammed the hull.
"Sorry!" Astrid Sverre gritted her teeth as they heard the laughter of Romeo Malatesti. "My apologies, Dark Queen! I wasn't looking where I was testing my powers!"
There was a blast of Dark Magic...which missed the main mast of the Venetian 'Doge', but not by much.
"Katharina!"
"Yes?"
"I want this Champion of Strife to sink with the monument to his own arrogance before we arrive at the second Stage!"
"I obey-"
That was the moment part of the surface waters were turned into oil...which a certain flamboyant Champion of Beauxbatons set on fire in record time.
"Curse it! I should have known the two lovebirds were going to be cooperating! Astrid, we're going to need your Ice Magic!"
"I'm on my way!"
All thoughts of the Champions in the rearguard of the fleet were discarded temporarily, as the battle between the high-scoring Champions began in earnest.
****
Neville's thought when he had seen the Lagoon was that it was going to be relatively easy.
It hadn't lasted long.
Just in time for the naval battle to begin, really.
"Weren't we supposed to avoid deliberate confrontations and stuff like that?" the former Champion of House Gryffindor shouted as Johann Wolffhart almost torched their sails, with Angelina stopping it with an incredibly accurate Aguamenti.
"That's somehow against the rules, yes!" Ron supported his point of view.
"Do you think anyone cares?" Angelina snarled. "Neville! Two more wind spells, and I want you to push us to starboard!"
"That's going to allow Wolffhart to overtake us!"
"I know, thank you."
"I'm sorry, I didn't want to-"
A livid yellow which screamed 'big danger' missed his hand by...by mere inches.
"That's not good!" Ron gasped. "Fuchs is coming for us too!"
"You see why I want us to get out of their way!"
"But if we do that..."
"We're not going to be able to get the first points distributed across the second Gate, I know. But then, we're not going to be able to earn them either way. Da Riva, the Dark Queen, and the others are busy fighting each other for the lead, but they're still too far away. Change course, Neville!"
"Yes! VENTUS AEOLUS!"
In the next seconds, the former Champion of Fate didn't regret it. It felt like the Lagoon had been set aflame, all the while massive Wind Curses were doing their best to try to destroy the masts of their opponents. Illusions and very real reefs were conjured out of nowhere.
It was a giant naval battle.
It was war in its most unsubtle definition.
It was the Last Task, and every Champion was battling the others for supreme victory.
Every Champion?
No, not every Champion.
Alexandra Potter was lagging behind, making sure that even the slow progression of Eugenie Millet's Caravel was still able to remain in front of her.
"I had wondered why she had squandered all her advantages so early in the first stage...but suddenly, it doesn't feel like a bad decision."
"We have a lot of stuff to repair our ships, Neville," Ron told him.
"It's not unlimited, and we're not true ship specialists, Ron. If we take too much damage or we exhaust the supplies, sooner or later, our Caravels will become wrecks."
"Yeah, but there will still be one or two which will survive. Potter can't believe that waiting for everyone to sink is going to be the solution. She's in fifteenth place, that won't give her victory when the final rankings will be given...she has some advance, but not that much!"
Neville frowned.
He counted the Caravels present and currently sailing upon the calm waters of the Venetian Lagoon.
Yes, there were only fifteen Caravels of different decorations and styles.
Fifteen, when they should have been sixteen.
"Ron..."
"Yes?"
"Where in the name of Merlin are Nott and the Slytherin Substitutes?"
27 May 1995, the Hogwarts' Headmaster Lodge, the Coliseum
Filius Flitwick, once a Duelling Champion noted for showing all his emotions once he had properly secured victory, struggled to not cry right now.
He wasn't going to cry.
He wasn't going to laugh either, no matter how much the thousands of spectators around him did so.
The acting-Headmaster wasn't going to lie, though. The temptation to place his head into his hands before running to smash it against the nearest wall was really strong.
"I knew it was a disaster, but I had no idea it was going to be that fast. How was he able to do it?" he whispered.
His host chose to not answer, which was perhaps better for everyone in the long run.
"Theodore Nott didn't get through the enchanted Gate," Filius closed his eyes, hoping that when he reopened them, the world would suddenly make sense. Alas, there was no such luck. "His Caravel rammed the solid sections of the Gate."
It was almost an exploit, when you consider it, for while there wasn't enough space for three Caravels to get through, the large circular zone the ships had used to go to the Venetian Lagoon was far, far larger than the levitating circle of stone.
In other words, you almost had to deliberately aim for it, given the relative sizes involved.
"OUR SIXTEENTH CHAMPION SEEMS TO HAVE ENCOUNTERED A FEW DIFFICULTIES! I WILL INFORM OUR SPECTATORS THAT IN ORDER TO EARN A SINGLE POINT, THE CHAMPION HAS TO GET THROUGH THE GATE!"
Wizards, witches, and pretty much everyone in the Coliseum exploded in laughter.
Filius just sighed in disappointment.
This was a disastrous performance, all right.
No, no it was more than that.
But words in English were insufficient to explain the scale of the humiliation Theodore Nott had brought upon himself.
It wasn't bad enough that Eurig Cadwallader and Blaise Zabini had been ejected by the Slytherin Caravel colliding with the Gate – and thus earned the dubious success of being the first Substitutes to ever swim in the Lake-Arena.
No, it hadn't stopped there. As Filius watched, Theodore Nott and Lucian Bole were hurling insults against each other, all the while their wands were ready and throwing sparkles. Never mind that the Task had begun, that the Slytherin crew was dead last by a considerable margin, and plenty of other factors guaranteed a humiliation for House Nott.
"Suddenly, I wish I could truly go back in time to convince several gifted students to participate in the Tournament preliminaries.
"I understand the emotion," Maharaja Wodeyar the Tenth smiled. "But it isn't exactly magically feasible, I'm afraid."
"Yes," Filius admitted out loud. "I wish I had something to distract me from that fiasco, unfortunately..."
The acting-Headmaster didn't finish his sentence. The images spoke louder than words.
For the moment, things weren't presenting themselves in a good way for Hogwarts. Setting aside Theodore Nott, who was a special brand of catastrophe for himself, Angelina Johnson had been overtaken by two Durmstrang Champions, and unlike the Ravenclaw Caravel, the Charms Master was not sure it was deliberate at all, since their sails had been set afire several times.
And while Cedric Diggory's crew was in fifth position right now, there were already several impressive holes in the upper part of his Caravel's hull, and one of his Substitutes, Malcolm Preece, had his arms injured by a vicious Dark Curse.
"You seem worried for your most gifted student. Don't be," the ICW Delegate of Magical Mysore – who also happened to be its ruler – commented with a chuckle. "She's beginning to take her Tasks very seriously, like a proper ruler."
"Oh no, I am not worried about my House's Champion," Filius shook his head. "To be sure, I would have preferred a less risky strategy that did not result in an all-or-nothing gambit, but what is done is done. It is more about the other crews representing Hogwarts School. It had been somewhat advantageous in the last Tasks, but now it is clear that we are completely outmatched."
"Yes, yes, I can see why it is a problem."
The Maharaja was the essence itself of politeness.
The spectators were a bit less restrained, though. Especially when Lucian Bole cast a powerful series of Charms that sent Nott flying away from his Caravel. The Slytherin Champion's scream was really too close to a squeak, though the splash which announced the beginning of a warm bath in the Lake-Arena was rather spectacular.
"At the risk of taunting Fate," Raja Wodeyar the Tenth said with a semi-impressed expression, "the performance is so ridiculous it is going to be difficult to make it worse."
27 May 1995, the Venetian Lagoon, the First Stage of the Seventh Task
"It's a rather resting adventure, in fact."
"Morag, it's better not to let your legendary laziness make a come-back."
"It's not!"
Alexandra breathed out. Her friend was very, very lucky that she was on top of the main mast, out of reach for a Tickling Charm or two.
But Morag was somehow right.
It was a pleasant adventure, out there.
The weather was beautiful, and there was a warm breeze upon her skin.
They made sure to avoid all the fighting, so they were only giving course changes and enjoying the navigation.
Yes, suddenly the Champion of Death understood why Legolas and Gimli had chosen to sail away from Middle Earth.
There was something extremely seductive about coming aboard a humble ship, and sailing away, never to return to those shores.
So far away, there wasn't any possibility to hear the loud roars from the crowd. There wasn't any sorrow here; there were the winds and the waves.
It was not unpleasant.
"Alex? Alex!"
"Morag, I am going to strangle you if you shout louder."
"You looked like you were day-dreaming. Which you know, looks like a bad idea since you're at the helm."
"I was day-dreaming, and I also followed Hermione's navigation orders," the Hydra Animagus hissed softly. "Some of us, Tigress, can do two different things at once."
"I stand corrected, oh Hydra Queen." The MacDougal Heiress mischievously smirked, or at least, it felt that way from where she stood. "But all jokes aside, I think Krum is trying to do something."
"Oh?"
The interest on Hermione's face was very interesting, of course.
"Yeah. His Substitutes are deploying some sort of floaters on each side of his Caravel."
Alexandra's green eyes narrowed.
"So he's trying to soar above the waves. When students of the Scuola Regina laughed about him not being granted the permission to fly, they should have known better."
"Err...yes, but how was he able to create them?"
"The decorations of each ship can be turned into something different via Transfiguration," Alexandra shrugged. "Though he must have trained beforehand, no one is that good to do it on his very first try."
"I suppose this is true," Hermione sent an amorous glance in the direction of her boyfriend's ship. "Do you think it is going to work?"
On this one, Alexandra didn't need to brainstorm or to study some scenarios.
"Absolutely not," the Champion of Ravenclaw replied neutrally.
"Alex? I'm sorry, but it is working. Krum's ship is gaining speed, and it looks like it is bouncing upon the waves! He has already caught up with Lucrezia Sforza!"
"Oh, I should have been more accurate. The idea is quite good, of course."
And yeah, Morag had been right, between the 'floaters' and his natural abilities, Krum had picked up an impressive pace.
"I was more referring to the fact that Krum should have better protected his 'floaters' from hostile intervention."
Two heartbeats later, a giant construct of water shaped like a shark jumped out of the water and went on to deliver a nasty 'bite' to the recent addition on the port side of Krum's Caravel.
It did last only a short amount of time.
It was in fact so fast that Alexandra was certain that some people watching the Task had missed it.
Not Krum.
Krum had already tried to compensate for it.
But suddenly, he had only one 'floater', and that meant not only half of the speed advantage, but also half of the stability the Bulgarian Seeker had taken for granted seconds ago.
"As I could have warned him, we're not supposed to directly attack the Caravels of our fellow Champions. But the 'floaters' don't qualify as part of the original Caravels...I think that's how Lucrezia is going to justify it at the end of the Task, in my humble opinion."
"It's bloody cheating," Hermione grumbled.
Krum's ship smashed into the waves as she uttered the words.
The shocks were bad enough to break the second 'floater'.
And once there, it was only a question of time before the Durmstrang Champion's Caravel capsized.
Alexandra noted with amusement that most of his costume was thrown overboard right as salvation attempts were made.
"It could have worked. It was a nice gamble. But he should have saved it for the ultimate rush to the finish line."
And now the 'Krum Caravel' was completely immobile. It had not turned turtle yet, but capsized on one side. It was going to be hell getting it back in the race.
It was also going to take some time to pump out all the water that had poured inside the hull, magic or no magic.
"He may not have had so many 'secret weapons' to use, this time around, Alex."
"He tried to play to his strengths." Unfortunately for Krum, when all your strengths very much were tied to flying brooms, it began to get predictable after a while.
Moreover, the art of flying was not as flexible as some other magical arts...like say, Ancient Runes or Transfiguration.
"There's a silver lining in this: we're going to be fourteenth instead of fifteenth."
"No need to be so impatient, Morag. Our hour will come."
"Yes, my Glorious and Multi-Headed Queen."
Alexandra sighed very loudly.
Hermione giggled.
"Still no sign of Nott?"
"None at all! Do you think he's trying to be the only Champion to end the Tournament with a negative score?"
"I wish I could say it's a ridiculous idea...but we're talking about Nott. In addition to that sad lacking example of leadership, he was stupid enough to make Bole his second. That isn't good at all."
27 May 1995, the Little Mine under the Big Mountain, Second Stage of the Seventh Task
Lucrezia's ship was the first one to get through the second Gate.
The Champion of Water didn't have time to rejoice at having won three more points.
She hadn't the time to rejoice about anything.
Her Caravel swerved violently.
Everything went dark; they weren't on the Venetian Lagoon anymore.
Their surroundings were badly lit, with nothing but enchanted torches, and what was-
NO!
"Cancel the Charms!" Lucrezia shouted to her cousins. "Cancel them, we are-"
Their ship hit something.
Then everything became worse.
Their ship was like an uncontrollable foam ball sent through an obstacle course.
The Caravel rolled over.
Succubus or not, Champion of Water or not, it was really, really bad.
She tried to pour out all the magic she could, but with the entire world dancing around her, it did more harm than good.
Lucrezia Sforza was ejected, and had to swim before dragging herself out on the rocks that had to serve as an improvised beach.
The grimacing Succubus felt her vision begin to be restored, helped by the blessings of Tlaloc.
As she gritted her teeth and began to gather her strength, Lucrezia's feline eyes fell upon a signboard that her Caravel must have crashed into.
SLOW DOWN! THE MAXIMAL SPEED AUTHORISED INTO THE MINE IS HALF OF THE ONE AUTHORISED ON THE LAGOON!
Lucrezia roared and cursed.
She was going to maim these sadistic Judges, even if it was the last thing she did in her life!
27 May 1995, the Spectator's Stands, the Coliseum
"I'm suddenly very, very glad I am not part of this crazy Task."
Susan didn't think she was a coward, but she wasn't stupid either.
Being an Animagus Badger didn't make her near-invulnerable, unlike the true Champions of Magic.
And watching Lucrezia Sforza wrecking her ship upon some large rocks before finally crashing ashore, the 'near-invulnerable' part appeared to be very much needed if you wanted to survive this.
"If you'd been part of a certain crew, it wouldn't have been that crazy." Hannah smiled.
"The fact Alexandra is so far happy to let the other Champions tear each other apart doesn't mean it is going to continue during the entire race," Susan replied while rolling her eyes. "Or do you think she's going to calmly accept a fifteenth position?"
"Well, she won't, no? With Krum trying to pump out all the water in his ship and Sforza currently trying to count how many holes she made in her Caravel, your terrifying girlfriend will be soon in thirteenth position!"
Yes, that was a good point. And-
"Think about how funny it will be if Hogwarts wins again by virtue of not lifting a finger while the other Caravels sink one by one!"
Susan Bones, last descendant of the prestigious line of House Bones, supposed glaring was not going to resolve the problem.
"And it is my girlfriend who has a nasty sense of humour?"
"It's not my fault this Aztec-Venetian Caravel lost quite a few feathers, figuratively and literally!"
Susan groaned and was very thankful that the acclamations made sure no one but her heard this lamentable pun.
"You should be ashamed of yourself, Hannah."
"Come on, once bitten, twice shy, the big feline will remember to slow down in the near future."
"Please don't say that in front of Sforza; I won't be able to stop her if she decides to separate your head from the rest of your body."
But yeah, every ship crew coming right after Sforza's Caravel had done the utmost to slow down. The 'performance' of the Succubus had been enough to convince them to be prudent.
The Second Stage was very much the complete opposite of the first. The Champions had been given a small sea's worth of room to navigate at first; now they were arriving in a small, narrow river with large rocks on every side.
The Tournament organisers had not spared the expense on decoration: they had called it a mine, and it definitely felt real.
There were wagons, pickaxes, chains, and very complicated mechanisms, some in the form of absurdly tall wheels. Some objects felt like they were magical, albeit in a deactivated phase, but plenty of others were not. It seemed as if the Judges had bought a lot of Muggle tools for mining from everywhere, and piled them up here.
"Maybe," Hannah cleared her throat, "they're going to slow down the infighting now that the river is incredibly narrow?"
Less than five seconds later, a cloud of pale smoke exploded over the ship of Romeo Malatesti, a 'gift' from Giovanni Ruspoli, if Susan wasn't mistaken. And the 'Tiger Doge', for all his silver metallic costume, felt the effect, as he began to vomit slugs.
"You were saying?" Susan spoke before wincing as a true bombardment of spells began, and many wagons and tools were transfigured instantaneously to become delayed cursed traps or some kind of vicious animals attacking the first Caravel that came too close to them.
"I am suddenly very glad the Judges decided to forbid them from killing each other," Hannah admitted her defeat. "Maybe your terrifying girlfriend had the right idea to let them sink each other before graciously claiming her triumph..."
27 May 1995, the Little Mine under the Big Mountain, Second Stage of the Seventh Task
The mine in the distance was wracked by explosions. A large part of the 'decorations' appeared to be used as Transfiguration resource or for projectiles when Bombardment Charms were used.
"They certainly don't happen to lack motivation."
"No, they don't," Alexandra agreed reluctantly. "But let's focus on the navigation first, Morag. I would prefer to avoid Lucrezia's problem, if it's all right with you."
"I don't even know if she can repair her ship, seriously," her friend shook her head. "I mean, I know she is the Champion of Water, but she wrecked her Caravel pretty damn hard this time."
It wasn't an exaggeration at all. The 'Succubae Caravel' was now looking like a beached whale on the vaguely flat terrain where it had been smashed and finally rolled over.
There were feathers and other Venetian adornments everywhere where it had collided with the rocks. Alexandra wasn't going to pretend to be an expert in shipbuilding, but the damage appeared to be really significant.
"Who would have expected the Judges...oh, never mind." Hermione coughed.
"I'm so glad you didn't finish this sentence," Alexandra declared sarcastically. "Who would have expected our sadistic Judges to do that?"
Throwing them on the calm water immensity of the Venetian Lagoon only to shift them to a narrow and dangerous river was exactly the sort of stuff that had played out regularly in this Tournament.
"Suddenly, the decision to give us plenty of magical resin and other stuff to repair the damage caused by all the fighting and the environment doesn't feel that generous to be sure."
"Yes. What is happening in the lead?"
"Fleur Delacour and Eleonora da Riva appear to have united against the Dark Valkyrie now that the Succubus Caravel is out of the race. Romeo Malatesti is losing ground."
"Understood."
"For the moment, the plan is working."
"And I don't like that at all," Alexandra admitted in the next second.
"Why? So far, your august rivals are doing everything we expect of them."
"Morag...besides the sounds of their one-on-one or one-on-two battles, do you hear anything in this 'mine'?"
"Err… no? No, I don't hear anything."
"Precisely," the Hydra Animagus winced. "I am unable to hear anything too. Save the river delimited by dangerous rocks, there is pretty much nothing but the wagons and the rest of the decoration. There are no traps, no magical wards about to trigger something unpleasant, the pickaxes are rusted, and the other tools are completely inert and don't have Runes carved upon their metal. There's literally nothing to help us or to present a danger here. I don't like that at all."
"This was the same for the first stage, when you think about it," Hermione pointed out. "The few 'sea monsters' we had a glimpse about were all water conjurations created by Sforza or by someone else."
"The Judges are preparing something." It had been her Hydra's instincts warning her before, but now she was completely sure of it.
"Something we are going to hate them for?"
"You're reading my mind, Morag."
"Do we try to catch up with the current leadership of the race?"
Alexandra hesitated before frowning and deciding to not change Plan Two Towers.
"No, not yet. I want to wait and see what is waiting for us in the third stage."
"And if it is still empty of lethal dangers save the ones your fellow Champions bring with themselves?"
"Then," the Champion of Death replied in a sinister tone. "We are really going to need to prepare for the worse."
27 May 1995, the Pirate Galleon, the Third Stage of the Seventh Task
The Pirate Galleon seemed to be made to force expressions of astonishment out of them.
It was a bloody giant thing.
It was easily bigger than the 'Dreadnought' Potter had used at London.
It was very much decorated to be a thing of 'pirates'.
There was an immense black flag hoisted at the top of the main mast, and the entire upper deck was filled with dummies that had been disguised to look like swashbucklers of ages pasts.
Oh, and there were over several dozen red-green parrots, all contained in a huge cage.
Yes, the Pirate Galleon was a very impressive item to decorate the third stage of the regatta.
Cedric was particularly relieved it was something empty and inoffensive.
If they had been forced to fight their way upon this relatively big lake, the broadsides of the Pirate Galleon wouldn't have been funny to handle, even with magic to protect them.
But there was nothing worth firing a Shield Charm or two.
The Pirate Galleon was just some outrageous decoration, and the cannons on every side were completely fake.
"I don't like this, Cedric," Tamsin jumped down from her position on the mast of the Hufflepuff Caravel.
"You're just seeing dangers where there are none," the Champion-Captain replied, trying not to let his annoyance pour into his voice.
"That's the problem," the blonde Hufflepuff replied. "I don't like at all how easy it is. We should imitate Potter and Johnson."
"And abandon all the points from crossing through the Gates? No. No, I can't afford it."
"Cedric...so far, despite taking plenty of damage, we haven't earned a single point. It's the Dark Psychopath of Durmstrang who took first place some minutes ago, followed by the Veela and the not-so-innocent Princess."
Cedric grimaced. No matter how many times it played out in his mind, he didn't like being reminded how Eleonora da Riva had suckered him during the Sixth Task.
"We have overtaken Ambre de Courtois. Our strategy is working."
"Is it?" Malcolm asked. "It felt to me like she decided to go for the same strategy our other two Hogwarts Champions did."
"It could be a coincidence," Cedric replied as Cho remained silent.
Malcolm snorted with a lot of derision.
"Right, yes, a coincidence. It isn't raining lightning here and now, so I am pretty certain Alexandra Potter is just letting each Caravel crew in the lead destroy each other for a few hours. Unlike us, she's not exhausting herself. But when she will decide to speed up and push her Caravel with everything she has..."
Malcolm made a silent move that was very close to the one mimicking the cutting of one's throat.
"We have to slow down," the younger Substitute pleaded calmly.
"We absolutely do not," Cedric replied. "You're right about Potter's strategy to win, but we can't afford to replicate it. I don't have the points she has; my only chance to figure honourably in the rankings is to take the lead."
"But it is the monsters who are leading the race," Tamsin argued. "We just have Malatesti right in front of us. After that, it's Romanov, Delacour, and Da Riva. There's no one else...and we don't have Johnson or Potter to provide more wands for the sea battle."
"We still have to press on." Cedric didn't let himself get distracted. "We're already in the third stage, and there are only seven of them! This regatta is going to be over far faster than we were told about!"
To this, none of the members of his crew had any answer for. The speech had not left much place to doubt: seven Gates, seven stages, and they would be back to the Coliseum in record time.
"All of this is important, but can we beat this arrogant warmonger of Malatesti?"
"YOUR DOGE IS VERY UNAMUSED YOU DO NOT CALL HIM WITH THE PROPER ADRESSES HE DESERVES!"
"Oh, by the all the dark spells of Morgana La Fay!"
Cho's shout was not dramatic enough, because a second later, several cannons that had been on the shores of the lake were transformed into a giant feline construct. And the new metallic tiger began to jump in their direction-
"Brace yourselves! Malcolm, more wind in the sails!"
27 May 1995, Never Land, Fourth Stage of the Seventh Task
Morag had never expected to see a touch of home during a Task; there were in the Magical Republic of Venice, after all.
But the pirate ship of the previous stage had not been Venetian at all, and after that, this removed many obstacles, she supposed.
Still, the MacDougal Heiress' optimism was waning second after second.
Yes, the dances and the joyous music had been appreciated at first.
But the river was more tortuous than during the second stage, and as a result, so was the navigation.
Furthermore, the battles of the other Caravels had left plenty of debris behind, which did make everything more complicated.
But the worst part was when the Leprechauns came into view.
"Alex, please tell me I'm dreaming."
"If it's a dream, we're all experiencing it. And no, it's not an illusion."
"Green lands preserve us."
"There isn't a lot of green there, I'm afraid. There is a lot of gold, however."
"Yeah..."
As was their habit, the Leprechauns had used their magic to conjure their infamous gold.
As it could be predicted when it was question of Leprechauns, they had not stopped at a few coins.
Both banks of the river were now disappearing under mountains of Leprechaun's gold.
There had to be millions of coins, easily.
Hermione cleared her throat.
"Err, I know it is too good to be true, but-"
"The coins will disappear after a few hours, yes," Morag 'reassured' her friend.
"Err...does everyone know?"
"In Ireland, everyone knows about it." Morag answered honestly. "It doesn't help that on one face of the coin, there's generally a grinning Leprechaun."
"Really?"
"Really...though sometimes it's enchanted to mock the one picking the gold." The red-haired Ravenclaw breathed out. "It isn't capable of fooling Goblins or anyone looking for the trick, if that's what you're asking."
"They may have received some kind of enchantment to boost their gold-creation magic," Alexandra said quietly. "I've never heard of Leprechauns being able to do that."
Yeah, her friend had a point. That was a lot of gold...by the Powers, there were so many gold coins that some were beginning to make small avalanches that were falling into the river they were navigating upon!
"Is there a way we can use it for our own purposes?"
"I haven't the faintest idea how," Morag reluctantly admitted. "The magic of the Leprechauns will make it difficult to change the gold into anything else, like a true Goblin-melted coin. That means Transfiguration is out. And for Charms, there are way easier things to care about."
"I suppose it makes sense. Let's hope the 'Symbols of Victory' weren't hidden under these piles of Leprechaun's gold."
Morag immediately grimaced. Alex had a gift for imagining plenty of unpleasant scenarios, didn't she?
An explosion rocked her ears.
Plenty of gold hills in the distance flew everywhere.
"Bayard is fighting Fuchs and Wolffhart all by himself." Hermione announced. "It is not going well for him."
"I am going to laud his courage, if not his tactical sense."
"Not everyone has a sizeable surplus of points like you do, Alex."
"There's having a surplus of points, and there's charging like Malatesti in the direction of dangerous trouble," the green-eyed Champion commented drily. "Last time I checked, we got all the same Caravels, and though we were able to reinforce the hulls with a few Runes, in the end, they are made of non-enchanted wood."
All around them, the gold piles continued to pile up, and the magic began to rise so much they began to have to shout to converse with another.
"Still no sign of Nott behind us?"
"No. Let's face it, Hogwarts has only three ships participating in the Last Task, and I almost can't believe it when I say it, but I would have preferred we got Montague as the Slytherin Champion for this one..."
27 May 1995, the Venetian Lagoon, First Stage of the Seventh Task
Blaise had never believed in great religious principles. Yes, he believed in the Powers of Magic; he had seen them too much near Alexandra Potter to believe otherwise.
But now the young Slytherin wizard, proud descendant of a Naga line, was seriously beginning to entertain the belief of soul reincarnation.
How else did you explain being cursed so badly that you had to share a Caravel ship with Theodore Nott, of all people?
"YES! WE'RE ABOUT TO CATCH UP WITH KRUM! HA! WHO WAS SAYING THE RACE WAS LOST?"
Blaise looked at Eurig Cadwallader.
The Hufflepuff stared back.
No words were necessary by that point.
Their grim expressions were everything the two boys needed to understand each other.
"Does he realise that Krum's ship is immobile and the Star-Seeker of Bulgaria is trying to make some repairs?" Eurig asked in a whisper as they walked as far away from their 'Champion' as the small ship allowed.
"Who knows?" Blaise replied in a murmur. "It's Theodore Nott we're speaking about."
The Substitute who should have been aboard Cedric Diggory's ship was not yet using his head as a hammer against one of the masts, something the Slytherin was grateful for. The Caravel had already taken some damage from ramming the starting Gate at full speed.
"The Powers know I prayed that Graham Montague would have recovered in time to participate in the Last Task."
Graham Montague was hardly a perfect Champion, his series of zeroes in several Tasks was proof of that.
But the Montague scion, for all his faults, wouldn't have been as incompetent and arrogant to the point of sending them crashing against something that not even the Judges had thought would be an obstacle for the competitors.
"The Powers are cruel, then. Or they have a sick sense of humour," the Hufflepuff went on to cast 'VENTUS!' breaking the erratic and pathetic Charms that Nott considered 'perfect'.
"Try to avoid shouting it, please," Blaise said as he went on to check they were on the correct course...something that miraculously, was the case for now. "Our bastard of a Champion sent us headfirst into the Lake-Arena because he thought that against all odds, producing the same performance as in the next hundred training trials was going to lead to a different result."
It hadn't, of course.
"We can't catch up with the other Champions."
"Agreed," Blaise breathed out. "And to be truly honest with you, Eurig...I think it's a true blessing in disguise. We didn't need a foe to almost sink our Caravel; if we are forced to fight someone, it is going to get awfully bad for us."
The Hufflepuff boy grimaced again, his hair being of course as dishevelled and humid as his.
"I want to say you're wrong, but you're not. I suppose we must get content with what we have...with Krum behind us, we will have to be content to not end in 'dead last'."
"Best to not count too much on that," Blaise replied, before giving an apologetic expression to the other sane member of this crew. "Krum has almost finished repairing his Caravel. I think...yes, he is raising up his anchor again. One of his masts is gone, but it looks like he's going to resume the regatta with two instead of three."
"Ah, curse it," the former lieutenant of Cedric Diggory spoke. "I suppose we will have to let the Durmstrang Champion overtake us. We aren't good enough to fight him, even if we are three Substitutes against his two."
"I DON'T CARE THAT HE IS TRYING TO PURSUE US! LET HIM COME, I WILL ROAST HIM LIKE A RED LOSBTER! I AM THEODORE NOTT! I AM THE CHAMPION OF SLYTHERIN!"
It was kind of impressive: the tirade had managed to knock all repartees out of the mouth of Bole.
That said, being absolutely speechless was completely natural, in Blaise's opinion.
There was, after all, a limit to how much stupidity a wizard could listen to before his wits were unable to stand against the pressure.
"Heir Blaise of House Zabini?"
The formal address made the young Slytherin blink for a couple of seconds.
"Yes, Heir Eurig of House Cadwallader?"
"We're going to die during this Task, aren't we?"
"We might..." This was the moment Nott decided to cast a Curse vaguely in the direction of Krum's ship. "All right, yes, we're probably going to die in a very painful and humiliating manner."
"I regret everything!" the Hufflepuff moaned.
27 May 1995, Skull Island, Fifth Stage of the Seventh Task
It was very recent, but Astrid more and more thought she had come aboard Naglfar, the very ship Loki was supposed to sail aboard to begin Ragnarok.
Sure, it wasn't made of toenails or anything that disgusting, but the way she was throwing Ice spells everywhere around it was really giving her some frosty vibes, and they weren't the pleasant kind.
And now there was the significant change of strategy from their foes which had been revealed about a minute and a half ago.
"They're all slowing down."
"Yes," Katharina Feuerbach approved, all the while giving quick glances to the Dark Queen at the helm, "and somehow, I don't think it is because she generated an illusion that almost made the Veela Bitch ram Da Riva's Caravel."
Astrid Sverre winced. She didn't know how this had been achieved, but the Dark Curse – and yes, it had to be something very Dark – had fooled all her senses too.
It had been...it had been unpleasant, and let's leave it at that.
"Where does it leave the race, for the moment?"
"Well, we're first, obviously. Delacour is second, Da Riva is third. After that we've now Malatesti in fourth and Diggory fifth. De Courtois follows, accompanied by Ruspoli. And the others have yet to arrive at this stage."
"It should be a good situation, if I fear we hadn't done exactly what the Judges expected of us," the German witch replied.
"Agreed."
It had been weird at first that save the tortuous rivers, there were so few traps around, but now it wasn't funny anymore.
The current environment was a splendid example of that. Yes, they were back under an open cloudy sky. Yes, the lake was particularly huge. Yes, the giant 'Skull Island' that was the only decoration visible was very good for a pirate theme.
But there was a shocking lack of hostile activity.
Now that Fleur Delacour and Eleonora Da Riva had stopped trying to board or sink them, the silence was increasingly ominous, and with the nasty obstacles that had been the norm during the first Six Tasks, it was a bad omen.
"This could be an attempt to make us lower our guard. But I fear the reason is far worse than that."
"The Judges mentioned seven Stages for this Race. But they didn't say how many times we needed to get through each of them."
"Yes, that was what I was thinking too."
"I want to say that the Judges wouldn't be that evil, but unfortunately, past experience doesn't give much weight to that." Brown eyes met hers. "How bad would it be for us?"
Astrid didn't need to turn her head. The black marks on the deck of their Caravel, the hastily patched up sections of the sails, and the smell of various potent enchantments were all there ready for an impartial observer.
"I think the answer will be 'very bad'." The student of Durmstrang swallowed her consternation. "We have to make repairs immediately. If the Task hasn't truly begun, we've given ourselves a heavy penalty."
"We are in the lead, don't forget."
Lyudmila Romanov had not left her position at the helm, and she hadn't really raised her voice. For all that assessment, her voice had cut like a magical blade. It was not threatening, but there was a command none of them could really stand against.
"It's true that it is going to give us an advantage, both in points and lead," the younger witch said quietly. "But we've rushed so fast during the first four stages that we really didn't pay attention to the details. If it was possible to notice some traps, we have completely missed the opportunity."
"The points supposed to reward the Champions each time we got through one were the trap," Katharina approved. "There are only seven of them, after all. What are twenty-one points when the Judges can give a bonus of two hundred to the victor?"
The lupine Champion of Loki had her eyes flash a murderous green-black for several heartbeats.
The power emanating from her was absurdly powerful, and it was like facing a Goddess hiding under a human appearance.
"Fine," there were plenty of teeth – unless it was fangs? – gritting in anger. "We're going to slow down our sailing pace and do some repairs."
27 May 1995, the Enchanted Castle, Sixth Stage of the Seventh Task
"Bayard is going to have some difficulties continuing with all his masts broken."
Angelina snorted after listening to the end of Ron Weasley's comments.
"Fuchs and Wolffhart didn't get away undamaged from that vicious fighting either."
Ulrich Fuchs' ship had lost one mast. Johann Wolffhart had lost none, but the prow had suffered tremendously.
In fact-
No. Most of the 'front' of the Caravel Wolffhart had decorated was a ruin, and though there were tools to mitigate the damage, Angelina had her doubts it could be made good.
"Focus on the navigation, Weasley. We're back on a rapid river for this stage. I would prefer we avoid looking as stupid as Nott in front of the spectators."
"Should we not worry about everyone else? Bayard looks like he's going to spend one hour repairing his masts, but the other ships of the race are slowing down too!"
"They are, but we are not going to overtake them." The Champion of Gryffindor had learned the lesson the Judges wanted to give them, thank you.
"What? But there's still time-"
"To win some points? Yes, there is, but we won't earn them by getting through each Gate. We're going to win them by preserving our Caravel as best as we can for the real challenges to come."
A look behind her, and sure enough, the Ravenclaw Caravel was still there, staying patiently in last place...or rather, last place of those who hadn't suffered a colossal amount of damage.
Between Nott, Krum, Sforza, and Bayard, Angelina wasn't going to say it out loud, but Alexandra Potter and her two Substitutes had won big without showing a single manifestation of battle-magic.
Okay, no Champion was formally out of the race, but Angelina couldn't imagine how in the hell those four were going to be able to beat Hogwarts' top-scorer when she was very much rested and the other Champions weren't.
"That really doesn't explain why the Judges built that sort of...golden castle everywhere on this stage."
It was true the thing managed to make Hogwarts look like a modest endeavour when it came to architecture.
"Who the hell would think over twenty towers in flashy blue, gold, and pink was a good idea?"
"The same wizards and witches who decided to let the Leprechauns conjure so many piles of fake gold," the older Gryffindor student reminded her 'crew'.
Weasley had the good sense to blush.
Unlike Longbottom, who had known about Leprechaun's gold, the youngest Weasley had been one step away from succumbing to his greed and plunging into the river's waters in order to claim the 'treasure'.
Angelina didn't criticise him further, the Gryffindor Chaser had made her point clear several times before.
But Merlin and Morgana, at this hour, she would really have sold those mountains of Leprechaun's gold to get Fred and George onboard as her Substitutes. The Twins were a redoubtable duo, could have conjured quantities of unpleasant tricks to use against the other Champions while staying out of range, and they functioned like a well-oiled team together.
Longbottom and Weasley...it could have been worse, but Angelina had to admit deep inside it could have been far better.
"All these decorations, all the gold and this 'enchanted castle' atmosphere, the inoffensive songs, the music, and the lights are very pretty to be sure," the second oldest Champion of Hogwarts enounced slowly for the benefit of the other students aboard. "But I don't believe in coincidences, and the Caravels which were in the lead for so long all deciding to repair their ships at the same time feels too big to be a coincidence anyway."
"I don't like at all how Malatesti is covering his ship with a layer of silvery metal," Neville cleared his throat. "How can he do that in the first place? He's a brute, he's not-"
"An Alchemist?" Angelina drawled ironically. "Longbottom, don't underestimate the other members of each Champion's crew. They are all Substitutes, in the end. They were all beaten by one Champion or another during their school's preliminaries, yes. That just means they found someone better than them."
And in the case of some monsters like Lyudmila Romanov or Romeo Malatesti, who had more raw power in one hand than she had in her entire body, Angelina was definitely sure she wouldn't have made it as a Substitute, never mind a Champion.
"Fortunately, they exhausted themselves during several stages, and there's a limit to how much they can repair a ship, magic or no magic. We really have to hope it will be enough."
27 May 1995, the Realm of Cascades, Seventh Stage of the Seventh Task
The last stage, Eleonora acknowledged from the start, was alone worth the participation in the Seventh Task.
It was a giant lake, filled with cascades that were so gigantic that you didn't see the top of them.
Practically, from the deck of a humble Caravel, it looked like you stared at a wall of water.
It was rather mesmerising, to see the iridescent splashes under the sun, the fantastic roar of several rivers falling into the same water reservoir.
And of course the temperatures were rising fast, above the climate they had enjoyed over the Venetian Lagoon.
It was rather pleasant, though the Champion of Innocence wasn't a great fan of high levels of humidity, and when donning a costume, she had a feeling it would get worse if they didn't get rapidly out of the stage.
It was rather pretty, though the Enchanted Castle of the stage preceding it had been more flamboyant, more dedicated to attempt dazzling them.
But it had one problem.
You couldn't see a single exit from that stage, be it in the form of one of the circular 'Gates' or in another form.
"Cedric Diggory got in first," Henri de Condé mused, splendid in his costume of White Knight. "The Dark Queen went second, and Romeo Malatesti went third...and none of it matters, right?"
"Yes. None of it matters. I made a very big mistake at the beginning of this Task."
The worst part was that the Judges had warned them, if indirectly, to not fight each other.
"How much time has slipped between our fingers?"
"Two hours, give or take," the former Champion of Horus replied, "and we spent about three-quarters of that time duelling and crippling the other Caravels."
Henri didn't add that they were all going to pay for it; he knew she was already thinking it inside her head.
"The good news, such as it is, was that most of the other Champions fought like us."
"'Most' is not 'all'," Eleonora murmured, looking behind her. Sure enough, behind the duo of Fuchs and Wolffhart, behind the red sails of the Lion-themed ship, the Hydra Caravel broke through the Gate, sailing as swiftly and silently as it had since the very beginning of the Task.
"Yes, not all. Ambre de Courtois appears to have missed most of the fun too."
"She's going to be a problem for sure. However, I had something like one hundred points of advance on her." Eleonora almost bit her tongue under the weight of disappointment. "Who's missing?"
"Sforza is getting through the Gate as we speak, and it seems she's pumping the water out of her ship as fast as it is getting in...nice geysers, I must say. Let's see...we are here, and so is the Dark Queen. De Courtois, Malatesti, Diggory, Delacour, Ruspoli, Johnson, Millet, Wolffhart, and Fuchs. That is in addition to Potter and Sforza. We are missing Krum, Bayard, and the last Hogwarts Champion...ah, Dark Powers be damned, I forgot his name."
"You are forgiven, with zero point and his inability to pass through the first Gate, he looked like a real idiot anyway." Eleonora snickered before getting deadly serious. "I feel the countdown coming, Henri. What do you think they would have done if we hadn't fought each other?"
"In all likelihood?" the former Champion smiled as he removed the most extravagant parts of his costume like the white cape. "They would have activated some sort of current on the different stages which weren't the dangerous rivers. I don't think they would have wanted the spectators to get two hours of boredom."
"Yes, how sad it would have been for our adoring public...but they didn't have to do that, because we made the job far too easy."
There were certainly some lessons to learn about this entire disaster, but honestly, a peaceful regatta had never been part of the plan. There were too many deeds to be paid back, too much enmity from the other tasks.
But it had not been inevitable.
Alexandra Potter had not gone after Fleur Delacour, ultimately.
"I think-"
"Magic surge incoming!"
"I feel it...wait, the cascades. They are disappearing!"
"Oh, I don't like that at all..."
Loud instruments began to play some loud classical music, right as dozens of enchanted mirrors activated.
There were a lot of things being reflected...why did it look like cream?
Her befuddlement didn't last long, the Judges at last appeared.
And yes, their expressions were ones of magnificent sadistic behaviour.
Eleonora knew immediately she was going to hate whatever they had to say.
She was completely right.
"Welcome Champions, to the Seventh Stage of your Last Task!"
"We congratulate you for not listening to good advice!"
"Your efforts to provided amusement to tens of thousands of magical and non-magical spectators have been duly noted, and some contests have been won by the most accomplished performers!"
"But all good things come to an end!"
"It is time to begin the real Seventh Task, the grand challenge of the European Magical Tournament!"
"And it begins...RIGHT NOW!"
The Champion of Vesta cursed under her breath, and she was sure she was not the only Champion do so, be it in a muted or very loud fashion...
27 May 1995, the Coliseum of the Scuola Regina
Good pranksters knew the moment of revelation was pivotal.
Too soon? People would explode into laughter at your miscalculation, and likely avoid the trap altogether.
Too late? The trap might work, but the spectators – which were in plenty of cases the intended audience, it wouldn't do to forget – would lament at the unfairness of the whole plan.
It was evident the Judges were not amateurs, and had worked hard for the moment of revelation to come neither too soon nor too late.
Bayard had managed to crawl, so to speak, to the Seventh Gate, and that meant fourteen Champions stood in the stage which had been surrounded by cascades.
Sure, that meant Krum and Nott were away from it, but the Judges couldn't be blamed for the stupidity of the Slytherin Champion or the risky strategy of the Star-Seeker of Durmstrang.
"THE CHAMPIONS WILL HAVE TO BRING THEIR CARAVELS TO THE FINISHING LINE AGAINST STRONG ADVERSITY!"
This was no longer an understatement or an exaggeration.
The Champions weren't seeing it, but everyone in the Coliseum, courtesy of the enchanted mirrors, could see the different stages changing.
Artificial reefs and old wooden forts were rising from the seafloor where they had been hidden until now.
This made a lot of dangerous obstacles able to damage the Caravels' hulls, and this time they would be supported by old but no doubt well-maintained Rune-carved cannons.
It would have already made the whole 'regatta' more difficult, but this was just the prelude.
In the second stage, for example, the whole 'abandoned mine' was no longer so abandoned. The handlers were pushing a giant Hungarian Horntail out of a secret passage, and yes, the dragon's mere appearance looked incredibly threatening.
The draconic intervention alone would have been a massive danger, but now there was something agitating the river, transforming into a series of violent rapids. And because things could always get worse, many mining wagons began to race everywhere, and when the Horntail began to breathe fire, the content of these metallic creations began to be lit up with flames that were absolutely not natural.
"I think they put some Alchemical reagents inside the wagons." George coughed.
"That is going to be dangerous," the wagons were getting awfully close to the river. Fred wasn't going to bet they were supposed to spread their content onto nearby ships, no one would be so moronic as to gamble against him for that.
"It gets better. There's a small pile of treasure behind the dragon. Sixteen objects..."
"Oh, curse it, do you mean-"
"Yes, I think we've been presented one of the 'Symbols of Victory'. It's that or something to convince the dragon to fight more viciously, anyway."
Fred grimaced.
That was bad, alright.
But it was the beginning of the story.
"The Pirate Galleon that had been so calm and silent...it is getting a Djinn to control its enchantments, artefacts, and weapons."
"There are Sphinxes coming out of the hills of Leprechaun's gold."
"You have to admit it, my fair twin, the Judges are complete sadists, but they have style..."
"Misters Weasley and Weasley!"
Suddenly, there was a small army of black-robed people coming in their direction, with Professor Flitwick leading them.
"Remember, my ugly twin: deny everything!"
"I thought I was supposed to play the part of the beautiful twin?" Fred gasped. "Bah, it won't change anything. We created the pranks, but we do not know who received the Source Rune."
"COLLECT THE SYMBOLS OF VICTORY, AND RETURN TO THE COLISEUM WITH YOUR SKILLED CREW AND YOUR SHIP AFLOAT!"
The Judges didn't laugh, but one could see their vengeance take form on every stage, beginning with the cascades...which were now flowing in the other direction, pushing the Caravels towards falls that were absurdly high.
"GOOD LUCK, CHAMPIONS, AND TRY TO SURVIVE!"
"Misters Weasley!"
The two Gryffindors stood in a perfectly united move.
"We are innocent!"
Seconds later, a Judge was transformed into a frog.
27 May 1995, the Little Mine under the Big Mountain, Second Stage of the Seventh Task
Viktor knew he had screwed up.
He had taken a big risk, but it had failed abysmally. The chances of winning the Task were gone, and all that remained was trying to finish the race, in order to not be given the less-than-stellar title of dead last.
Karl and Maksim, more optimistic than him, had disagreed.
But Viktor knew they were wrong.
There was some debris waiting for them on this dangerous river, but not enough to consider the idea that one of the other Caravels had sunk.
Worse, Viktor and his crew were now stuck behind the ship of an idiot.
It wouldn't have been a problem when they were sailing upon the calm waters of the Lagoon, but it was very much one now.
There was not enough space to fit two Caravels together safely.
Yes, there were some holes where an ambitious Captain might think they had a chance with a reasonably intact ship, provided the other Captain was distracted by something else.
The problem, of course, was that Viktor's ship was far from intact, and was manoeuvring like a sea pig.
There was no overtaking the silver-green ship, though fortunately, the spells thrown by two out of his four British opponents were so underwhelming that Karl was able to shield them alone while yawning.
"I can't wait for the moment we will be able to give them a lesson, Viktor."
"It won't be long now," the Seeker of the Bulgarian Quidditch Team commented. "The Gate is near."
"Once we get to the Third Stage-"
"If there's enough space to move around-"
"You will be given permission to sink them, yes," the Durmstrang Champion finished. "I know what I said two minutes ago, and these idiots are annoying me with every second that passes."
"Good, I think even the Lightning Empress will thank us for removing the shame of...what by the Northern Blizzards is that?"
There was a monstrous roar.
There was an enormous amount of fire.
There was danger.
Viktor for a few seconds searched in panic for a flying broom, before realising it was not that sort of Task.
"What is happening?" Maksim shouted.
"The Stage...it's the Stage! All the traps and Cursed Obstacles are getting into position!"
Was it something they had done?
No, of course not. In all likelihood, it was something the other Champions had done, since they were far more advanced in this 'regatta' than his ship had ever been.
Suddenly, Viktor was forced to reassess how much he had screwed up.
"I should have done the smart thing and waited in second to last rank for the prizes to appear," he grunted to himself.
"DRAGON!"
The scream was filled with panic.
It was a word that, save the Dark Queen and the other top-ranking Champions, no one ever wanted to hear.
It was a single word, for a species so dangerous that it generally took a team of over a dozen wizards to subdue.
Krum held his breath.
Maybe if it was a small reptile or a baby, they may have a chance-
The dangerous beast came into view, as fire-filled wagons began to move at racing broom speeds everywhere, spreading mayhem and Alchemical-based reagents as fast as metal and enchantments allowed.
It was a small mountain, an absolute nightmare of fangs, claws and thorns.
"It is a Hungarian Horntail!" Karl cursed, before following with a series of insults that Viktor refused to repeat in public. "We are so-"
"The Gate is close! We can reach it!"
"We're not going to be able to if the idiots...what are they doing? They're veering off-course, they're going to ram the shore and get too close to the dragon!"
"Who cares?" Viktor knew it was pure suicide, but he had not cast an Imperius, and the same was true of every member of his crew. If the British morons wanted to fight the beast, they were welcome to it, but he wasn't going to get involved. "Put more wind into the sails! We have to get through to the Gate! Nothing can be more dangerous than that monster!"
The dragon roared, as if approving his words.
Then the Hungarian Horntail, black scales of malice and terror, did what dragons were known for.
It breathed a colossal amount of magical flames.
27 May 1995, the Realm of Cascades, the Seventh Stage of the Task
Again.
They had done it again.
Alexandra closed her eyes for two seconds, but reopening them didn't change anything.
The Hydra Animagus hissed.
"I suddenly feel no regret at all for every prank that is about to torment the Judges," the Champion of House Ravenclaw declared high and loud. "They really deserve everything they've been on the receiving end of, and all the nasty Curses they're about to be enduring in the next minutes."
"Err, yes, Alex? I think we have some problems that are a bit more urgent than that, no?"
"It's never more urgent than complaining about the sadism of certain parties, Hermione."
"I disagree!"
Alexandra rolled her eyes. Her friend was so dramatic.
"Let's stay calm and study the situation rationally, shall we? Yes, we're suddenly at the top of a watery cliff, and the only way out seems to be to fall from gigantic cascades."
That was the kind of thing that was completely impossible to achieve without magic in so little time.
A few heartbeats ago, the cascades had been pouring into this very 'lake', and the entire 'scenery' had been surrounded by walls of water.
Apparently, all of it had been a deception. The cascades were now flowing out of the place where fourteen Caravels had gathered.
The Gate they had used to arrive to this Stage was now completely inactive – Bayard proved it for everyone by trying to sail through again, and achieving exactly nothing.
"They really have gone all-out, haven't they?" Morag sighed.
"Yes, yes, they did," Alexandra replied. "Cheer up, Morag, it could be worse."
"How exactly could it be worse, Alex?"
"Using conventional logic, the next exit Gate certainly is somewhere on the level that is at the bottom of these cascades. This is an absurd thing to do for any ship made of wood...but at least ours is completely undamaged. Many other Champions have hulls that are already more wrecks than true sailing ships."
"Yeah, Bayard's Caravel looks like it is already sinking on its own..."
"The question is who is going to try to verify it the hard way first?" Hermione asked plaintively.
The entire Stage seemed to disappear under a cloud of Dark Magic, and when it ended, it was to reveal a transformed hull that had gained more predatory looks, all the while being shrouded in ice and darkness.
It was, admittedly, very much a ship fit for a Dark Queen and the Champion of Loki.
"COWARDS ARE TO BE ABHORRED! FORWARDS IN THE MANE OF LOKI!"
Alexandra saw Astrid Sverre and Katharina Feuerbach hold on to what they could, and then the Durmstrang vessel of the Damned charged towards the edge of the watery cliff.
"Alex?"
"Yes, Morag?"
"We're going to be all wet and look like drowned rat in front of the entire world, aren't we?"
"The odds are..." Alexandra tried to make a quick calculation, and didn't like the result. "The odds aren't good. How much did you practise the Cushioning Charm?"
By the groans coming out of her two friends' mouths, the answer was clearly some variant of 'not enough'...
****
Neville wasn't afraid of water.
But sailing a ship you were aboard straight over a precipice that also happened to be the biggest cascade he'd ever seen?
The Boy-Who-Lived wasn't afraid; he was just terrified.
Nemean Lions weren't that fearful of water, oh no. But both humans and felines had something very powerful in them called self-preservation.
And throwing yourself off a cliff without a flying broom or something to save your sole and only life was not a good way to survive.
"I..." the Gryffindor swallowed heavily. "I feel it is a horrible idea, just saying."
Sforza, Malatesti, Da Riva and Potter had all charged in pursuit of the Dark Queen, and as Neville looked around, Ambre De Courtois and Eugenie Millet's ships were seemingly preparing to follow in their footsteps.
"It has to be a test of faith, right?" Ron asked weakly. "The Caravels aren't supposed to fly in the first place, right? There's something at the bottom of this lake-stage to catch us, right?"
"This is the European Magical Tournament, Ronald Weasley," Angelina reminded them with a grimace. "Since the end of the Statute, we can be almost sure that they will intervene to save us if we're about to die, but I don't think we're going to get more than that."
"No! I mean, come on, Neville! There's no way they can expect us to do the impossible!"
The former Gryffindor Champion shook his head, right as Martin Bayard's ship joined the other Beauxbatons Champion in achieving the 'impossible'.
One moment, the three Caravels were there, all with distinctive styles, flamboyant and carrying the students of Beauxbatons.
The next they were gone.
Ten seconds later, a mirror materialised right over their heads.
It didn't show the Judges, for once.
It displayed the 'Musketeer Caravel' of Martin Bayard.
Or at least, what was left of it.
The ship had broken in half, and a large quantity of wood and ropes were carried away by the current as the pride of the Beauxbatons Champion sank with his ambitions to win the Seventh Task.
"They expect us very much to accomplish the impossible," Neville didn't slam his head against the main mast of the Caravel, but only because he was sure it wouldn't do him any good. "What do we do now, Captain?"
"Are any of you skilled at carving Lightweight Runes all over the hull in record time?"
"What are you talking about? We didn't take the elective of Ancient Runes!"
"Transfiguring the entire ship into rubber?"
"For something so huge, it likely would take us most of the day...we have never transfigured something bigger than a tortoise-"
"That's it," Ron said cheerfully. "We are all going to be changed into Tortoises!"
Most of the time these days the youngest-looking Gryffindor had said things that were reasonable.
This wasn't 'most of the time', unfortunately.
"Ron," Neville kept his calm and tried not to swear. "Without the Grail to cheat, you can't become an Animagus in a few minutes. It takes years to master the skill. And if you aren't an Animagus, changing everyone in a single man-to-animal Transfiguration is just going to end in disaster, because we won't have anyone to transform us back! Besides, how the hell are we going to transform our Caravel into a Giant Tortoise? It's not OWL-level magic!"
"It's not even NEWT-level," Angelina intervened. "Not that I read the entire archive of the last decade to be sure, you know. Right, that simplifies our options."
"Why does that prospect fill me with dread?"
"Because you've learned to think by yourself when your nose isn't stuck in the Archmage's backside?"
Neville grimaced. He knew he deserved that, but the future Longbottom Lord doubted everyone would tell him it was a pleasure to have one's behaviour described in such a humiliating manner.
"No. If Runes, Transfiguration, and Enchanting along with all Dark Magic options are unavailable, we will have to rely upon our Charms," the athletic dark-skinned Gryffindor Chaser announced in a voice of command.
"Arresto Momentum, Cushioning Charms, and pray they will be enough?"
"Precisely!"
"If our magic isn't powerful enough, we're going to get the Caravel's keel snapped in half, just like Bayard."
"Then let us pray we are powerful enough. VENTUS MAXIMUS!"
"We are not ready!" Ron protested. "We are not! Stop! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Neville didn't remember making the noises he did for several seconds.
But looking back at that moment, the former Champion of Fate was sure he screamed too before he remembered to cast as many Charms as he could.
27 May 1995, the Enchanted Castle, Sixth Stage of the Task
"Was it really necessary to steal that Musketeer's hat, Alex?"
"I didn't steal it. Consider it...a victory trophy."
"You sound so virtuous when uttering those words."
"Hush, you!"
Morag giggled, and Hermione wasn't far behind.
"More seriously, Alexandra, was it really necessary to go after Bayard in such a devastating way? He wasn't exactly the most dangerous opponent we had, unless I have missed something."
"His ship was already heavily damaged. No one will find it curious that the Caravel sank."
"As long as they don't realise that there were already plenty of Cushioning Charms and several security measures to prevent any deaths at the bottom of the cascades."
"Yes. As long as they don't realise that. But it is going to take some minutes, and we have been separated by the rapids, plus there were several exit-Gates this time."
She hadn't really the time to say more, as all her senses began to scream danger.
"PROTEGO MAXIMA!"
The shield was cast just in time, as a bombardment of fireworks targeted her Caravel.
"Damn. Someone really took inspiration from the Weasley Twins."
It didn't have the strength of a fire battle-spell, but a Caravel was a wooden ship; if they were hit several times, even magic would be powerless to stop important destruction from occurring.
Alexandra didn't have time to rejoice having blocked the attack, which had come from some gargoyle statues standing above water.
New streaks of yellow-blue magic came right behind her, and soon she had to support Morag for the defences.
"I preferred the sixth stage when nothing was happening!"
"I'm sure you did, but this time, it wasn't the Tournament organizers who are responsible for it."
"Ah."
The smoke was banished, revealing another Caravel had waited immobile to spring an ambush upon them, and come extremely close to succeeding.
"I think it is Giovanni Ruspoli and his crew...the librarian theme is strong, though it needs some repairs. Don't try to join them, Hermione!"
"I incredibly resent that, Morag," the other Ravenclaw witch muttered angrily. "What do we do? The time we took dealing with the Beauxbatons Champions cost us several places-"
"I am going to sink them."
Morag cleared her throat.
"That wasn't what Plan Two Towers called for, Alex."
No, no it didn't.
"The other Champions aren't eliminating each other fast enough. I blame the Judges for that, by the way." Without the magical resin and the other spare parts, several Caravels would have been already inoperable. As it was, the quasi-totality of the participants were still trying to reach the finish line. "We're in the real race now, and there's only six stages left to return to the Coliseum. There's little time to waste anymore."
"I suppose that's true...you think that every Champion you sink will definitely get a worst grade than you."
Alexandra smiled before casting a new large-scale Protego.
"Bah, I didn't like Ruspoli anyway," the MacDougal Heiress smirked. "How do you want to deal with him?"
Hermione snorted disdainfully.
"What a question! She's going to electrocute him and his acolytes!"
The Champion of Death raised an eyebrow.
"As a matter of fact, I can, but it would be incredibly wasteful. Ruspoli or one of his substitutes decided for some reason to protect his ship with quantities of wards that are specifically supposed to negate some of the potency from any offensive spells using the element of lightning."
"What a coincidence!"
Alexandra rolled her eyes. It wasn't a coincidence, and everyone knew about it.
"It's a pity for him he didn't care to see beyond the obvious," the Champion of Ravenclaw calmly continued, deflecting the Wood-Cutter spells that were hurled her way.
"The obvious?"
"All the Caravels are made of a very specific combination of tree. The majority of the hull, for example, has a stupendous amount of oak. But there have been others in order to give some flavour and keep the weight down. Many parts of the boxes we have containing the spare parts, for example, are made of hazel wood."
"You don't think...ah, Ogham Runes?"
"Most of them are specifically called after specific wood types, yes."
One more attack was deflected, and then she mentally recited the evocation she had theorised before.
"COLL! TREES WHICH STAND FOR THE WISDOM OF JUSTICE, YOU WHICH STAND FOR THE WHITE PAIN OF THE INNOCENT, YOU WHICH HELP THE DRUIDS AND THOSE IN NEED, GROW ANEW TO PROTECT YOUR CHARGES! GROW AND TAKE BACK WHAT IS NEEDED! COLL!"
The Runic evocation was basic, simple.
It pulverised the few wards that stood in the way, for Ruspoli for some reason had completely neglected the possibility of someone going after him with Ancient Runes.
The effect did not look spectacular at first.
For a good minute, Ruspoli was in pursuit...until his Caravel slowed down.
The crew, by then, had realised something was incredibly wrong. It may have to do with the large hazel tree coming into existence, and the large roots trying to find purchase somewhere under the keel.
"Did you try to convince his ship that it was a tree all along?"
"I did not merely 'try', Morag." Of course her friend laughed, proving that on some occasions, you better keep your mouth shut. "I succeeded. If he can't reverse my evocation, Giovanni Ruspoli and his ship will get exactly nowhere."
Already his main mast was merging with branches and other tree elements. It wouldn't take long now before the ship was a new element of decoration on this river. Fortunately for the crews coming behind them, there was still a lot of space.
"Okay, that one is dealt with. Let's return to the race, we have a Dark Queen to catch, and it promises to be more difficult."
"Err, Alex-"
Her eyes turned fast enough to see the giant wave which drowned the tree-ship of the Venetian Champion, sending Ruspoli and his two Substitutes directly into the depths of the riverbed.
From the Gate, a very recognisable and damaged ship emerged.
"Lucrezia Sforza, as always, knows how to make an entrance."
"It looks like we aren't the only ones to take our time to spring ambushes. Do we fight her?"
"No, I am not going to risk fighting the Champion of Water on her own element. First, we catch up with the others. Then-"
The fireworks and all the statues chose this moment to fire another salvo.
"I preferred the Enchanted Castle before!"
"Me too!"
The next ten minutes were just a succession of survival orders screamed one after another.
27 May 1995, the Coliseum of the Scuola Regina
Daphne sighed.
"I have a feeling that at the end of the day, Alexandra is still going to insist she is not a prodigy when the subject of Ancient Runes is mentioned."
Tracey chuckled loudly, while Lyre de Male-Foi limited herself to a polite smile.
"Anyone getting her as a private tutor is sure to get an 'O' for the OWLs," her best friend said after her hilarity calmed down. "Do you think she's going to transform more ships into trees? She doesn't look like she was at all tired by the deed."
"I don't know," the pureblood witch admitted. "The evocation magic was rather slow; against more competent opponents, this might get way harder to pull off."
"And the Champions at the end of the rankings are getting eliminated one after another." Scylla Yaxley added, her strange purple eyes focused on the different scenes shown by the giant mirrors.
"That's what happens when Champions fight an all-out war."
The unofficial truce that had held for a few stages before the Judges dropped their great 'surprise' was well and truly over.
It was now each Champion and Caravel for themselves, spell against spell, cunning traps against mischievous Curses.
The rule against killing your enemies was respected by all participants, but nothing else was.
It was a massive display of offensive and defensive magic, most of it far beyond the level of the OWLs, and it came from every direction, in addition to Judge-approved onslaughts trying to sink as many candidates as they could get.
"Sforza sank Fuchs' ship before finishing Ruspoli. That means Hogwarts is the only school to have all its Champions."
Plenty of screams echoed as fire engulfed the second stage, and the roar of a Hungarian Horntail provoked shivers and gasps of horror.
"You were saying, Tracey?"
"I stand corrected," her friend's smile had just gone missing. "What in the name of Death was Nott thinking?"
"I don't know," Daphne coughed, and then coughed again, before finding a shred of strength in her voice as the dragon's flames began to recede.
She was a Greengrass. She knew how good some highly-skilled Healers could be when circumstances required.
But the kind of burns and injuries, the sheer amount of blood lost, on display here?
Bole and Nott had tried to go past an adult dragon for the first and last time in their life.
"Zabini and Cadwallader's decision to plunge into the river and play dead for as long as possible was a cowardly but life-saving tactic."
"Correct. They're now trying to swim in the direction of Krum's ship."
BOOM!
The explosion was so thunderous it forced tens of thousands of heads to abandon the ghastly sights of the Second Stage for the Sixth.
"What was that?"
"That," Daphne answered weakly, "was the Dark Queen herself punching a hole the size of a half-giant into the Hufflepuff Caravel's hull."
"Oh..."
"I think the chances of Hogwarts to win this one are going to fall upon the shoulders of Alexandra."
"Nice of you, Daphne, to not say 'again'!"
27 May 1995, Skull Island, Fifth Stage of the Task
Skeletons.
Tens of thousands of skeletons.
Hermione had wondered what would be waiting for them once they were back into the Fifth Stage, and the answer was 'skeletons', and if it wasn't sufficient, there were 'more skeletons'.
"Relax, Hermione," the voice of Alex stood strong over the blasts of explosions and the shriek of old-fashioned weapons being enchanted to track each Champion's caravels. "They are not true undead. They are just constructs."
"Are you going to tell me the bows and the guns these not-skeletons are using are fake too?"
"Oh, no," the green eyes flashed twice as a smirk came on Alexandra's visage. "Those are very real."
"In simple terms, is it better for us?" Morag asked.
"It is better, yes," their friend nodded. "With skeletons raised by Necromancy from their graves, whoever is giving orders could have really forced them to obey complex commands. The possibility of them having as much dexterity as living humans wouldn't have been out of the realm of possible either. Worse, I'm pretty sure any competent Necromancer could raise the least damaged skeletons again once we vanquished them for the first time."
Hermione grimaced.
"Is it the moment to rejoice, or to be incredibly worried by Knight Necromancer's treason?"
"Oh, both. Yes, both sounds right."
More explosions came.
Hermione supposed that if she had been in the Coliseum's stands instead of the middle of the melee, the spectacle would have been awesome.
Gunpowder from the old cannons mixed with old enchantments, all the while thousands of skeletons emerged from the depths of the river to try to climb aboard the Caravels which had thought slowing down was a good idea.
Some sort of giant slugs were bombarding them with liquids that could create massive holes in the sails of their ships.
There was spell fire, there were outrageous Curses, and the waters boiled, courtesy of the enemies and the 'stop them at all costs' measures that the Champions now used like they were on a time limit, which actually was indeed the case.
"Can you tell me who's in the lead, Hermione?"
"There hasn't been any chance since we entered this Stage. It's still the Dark Queen, followed by Fleur Delacour, and Romeo Malatesti is in third position. Eleonora da Riva is a bit too busy with the skeletons swarming her deck to follow...for now."
The Ravenclaw witch turned her head.
"But we have Sforza and Wolffhart hot on our tails. And I don't like how De Courtois caught up with us. It feels like she's adopting the same strategy we did in the first part of the regatta."
Alexandra smiled.
Morag snorted.
"I sense an extraordinarily devious strategy being summoned out of the Darkness..."
"It is not devious!" the Champion of House Ravenclaw naturally protested. "It is something I imagined after getting some inspiration from Susan."
"While you were kissing, or while you were practising important magical skills?"
The groan was loud and likely wasn't missed by anyone near the giant skull disgorging hundreds of fake skeletons.
"You really wonder after that while I don't give you any detail?" the Hydra Animagus hissed threateningly. "Hermione? I need you to calculate the Arithmancy for the next part. You're far better at it than I am."
"If it's about creating swords out of fake bone, the answer is 'yes', and you don't need me," the young bushy-haired girl answered honestly.
"Swords? No, we aren't going to create swords. Malatesti would see it coming ten nautical miles away. I have something far more exciting in mind to deal with the Champion of Strife."
"It is more about punishing him for the Korean mess, right?"
"Am I that vengeful?"
"Yes," Morag was the one to stick her tongue out and tease Alexandra first. "Yes, you are."
****
Romeo Malatesti frowned.
There was something tingling at the edge of his senses, and his Patron was trying to warn him of a danger.
Yet he wasn't seeing anything dangerous.
"Leonardo!"
"Yes, my Doge?"
"Tell me what the Champion of Death is doing."
"Same as in the last minutes, my Doge. The green-eyed Queen looks like she's using a combination of Summoning and Banishment Charms to break the skeletons into as many pieces as she can...with a certain amount of success."
Romeo blinked before nodding.
This was what he had been watching irregularly when he could afford to.
"It doesn't feel right, for some reason." The Champion of the Morrigan didn't do anything without a reason. "And the two witches that serve as her lieutenants?"
"They don't seem to be doing that much, to be honest." The answer, for a thousand reasons, didn't feel reassuring at all.
"I would prefer to have something a bit more precise than that, Leonardo."
"Sorry, oh Great and Mighty Doge," the tiger in him growled at the implicit mockery. "But these seemed to be basic spells, like...I think they are simple Transfiguration spells. And they aren't really hitting anything. Most of them are just creating bubbles in this nasty skeleton-infested river."
Right, they did-
Romeo froze.
No.
No, she wouldn't dare.
"Increase our speed!" the Champion of Metal snarled in a tone that unfortunately hinted at his panic. "Increase our speed, and warn Johann Wolffhart! We have to-"
"ASCENDIUM! WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!"
There was a colossal geyser, and magic erupted across the watery battlefield.
It didn't last long, for their enemy was in a hurry.
Romeo knew that personally, he would have taken the pose for several seconds.
But he wasn't Alexandra Potter.
The young Champion was frighteningly cold when she wanted to deliver the final blow, and the time had come for it.
From the depths of the Fifth Stage's waters, an enormous ship had risen.
A ship made of things that had once been the skeletons.
The Transfiguration done had been accomplished in a hurry, and as a result the origins of this new ship were all too clear.
For several minutes, Alexandra Potter had broken all the skeletons to re-assemble them into a ship.
"We should have seen it coming, this is the girl who thought that re-arming a Dreadnought was a good idea..."
"Romeo..." What had happened to his insistence of being called Doge on the stage of his dreams? Oh right, it was forgotten when facing Death. "The ship of Johann Wolffhart is going to be her first target. Then-"
"Then yes, it will be our turn."
It didn't take long.
The newly created 'Vessel of the Damned' that had been created was hurled against the Durmstrang ship like it was the biggest ram in the world.
Fortunately for him, Wolffhart wasn't completely impotent, and had managed to cast a few high-level Charms to shield his Caravel.
"It's still going to take her some time to sink him and the others." Romeo cleared his throat. "We flee. More wind in the sails, sailors! I don't think it is a good idea to fight an angry Champion of Death on this stage!"
"You don't say, my Doge-"
"FULMEN SECUTOR!"
The 'Ark of the Damned' began to course with green-emerald lightning, and before the Venetian students' eyes, a lot of lightning magic poured into the damaged Caravel of Wolffhart. It was like three giant lightning scissors were tearing the Durmstrang ship apart...with predictable consequences.
Romeo watched as Johann Wolffhart screamed and rushed forwards, managing to evade the storm of emerald magic that was raging everywhere.
You didn't need a lot of experience to know what the German was thinking.
By that point, his only hope to win was to stop Alexandra Potter.
It was a good idea.
Except his foe was clearly waiting for him.
Johann Wolffhart ran nonetheless on the 'Ark of the Damned', a solitary figure since his Substitutes were busy throwing themselves off the ship, preferring the water to the lightning.
"I WILL BE THE ONE TO DEFEAT YOU! ARCANA TENEBRAE!"
The spell cast by Johann Wolffhart was serious Black Magic.
It shrieked and outright melted its surroundings as collateral damage before hurling itself at the British Champion.
Alexandra Potter deflected it like it was a basic spell of no importance.
"My turn." Death bared its fangs, and the world shook. "DEPULSO!"
Had you ever seen a ship being hammered by something that felt like the fist of an angry Power?
Romeo definitely did on that day.
Johann Wolffhart was sent flying away like he was a bird in the middle of a hurricane.
And then a giant anchor of lightning broke his Caravel in half.
The Champion of Strife didn't hesitate.
"GET US OUT OF HERE!"
27 May 1995, Never Land, Fourth Stage of the Task
Alexandra breathed out.
The sensation of using so much elemental magic at once, especially lightning, had never felt more exhilarating.
Of course, it remained bloody exhausting.
Lady Protector she might be, but magic always demanded the price be paid, and Alexandra remained for now a Champion of the Dark, even if the mantle felt thinner as the days passed.
"That was bloody awesome," Morag commented. "And it was really scary too. When you stared at Wolffhart, it was like you were ready to kill everyone in sight."
Alexandra allowed herself a smile of satisfaction.
"I admit it felt good, and not just because we eliminated one more Champion from the regatta."
When added to Bayard, Ruspoli, and Fuchs, that made four Champions who wouldn't be able to reach the finish line. Add Krum and Nott, who hadn't been able to reach the Seventh Stage, aka the Realm of Cascades, and it was six participants who hadn't a single chance to earn a good score anymore.
Six out of sixteen.
It wasn't bad.
Unfortunately, honesty pushed Alexandra to admit none of the big names were involved in it.
"Lucrezia Sforza and Ambre de Courtois are remaining out of range behind us." Hermione called out before making a short pause. "I think that the whole 'Skeleton Ship' by Alex pushed them to double down on the prudence."
Alexandra wasn't going to grumble, but it was not good news. Some quick Summoning Charms had gathered skeletons in large numbers in addition to the new construct-ship before they passed the Gate. The intention had been to sink the ships behind them, or at least to delay them by many minutes.
Since Hermione could see the aforementioned Caravels, it meant that part of the plan had not been successful at all.
"Angelina Johnson? Cedric Diggory?"
"They're coming right behind De Courtois," her friend assured her before the natural 'but' arrived. "But for the Hufflepuffs, I don't know how long it is going to stay true. They really have a big hole on the starboard side, and they're taking plenty of water that the magical pump of Malcolm Preece can't really compensate for."
"I would want to say they didn't deserve that, but well, they tried to outrace the Dark Queen."
And Lyudmila had struck hard and fast.
If it had been Angelina Johnson, it would likely have not been the case, but Cedric Diggory represented a far bigger danger to her than any Gryffindor.
"Of course, we have a bigger problem ourselves," Morag pointed out. "Malatesti and Delacour are using some sort of weird Metal-Fire enchantment to increase their speed, and at the moment, they're leaving us in the dust. The gap between our Hydra Caravel and their ships is increasing minute after minute."
It was pretty obvious to say, but then it was why Alexandra had demanded her friends to report every detail, as insignificant as it might be, while the regatta was ongoing.
"The opponents behind us wait for something to give them an edge against us, and the three leaders of the race are able to keep and even increase their advance," the young Lady Protector and Champion of House Ravenclaw murmured. "It's not a good situation for us."
"It could be worse," the Heiress of House MacDougal shrugged. "We haven't been sent to the bottom of a river or a lake."
Alexandra clicked her tongue.
"As always, Morag, your words are a balm upon my serpentine soul."
"You're welcome!"
The three Ravenclaw witches laughed.
"Is it time to use that?" her friend asked.
Alexandra thought about it...before shaking her head.
"No. At least, not yet. Next stage is the Pirate Galleon, and at a guess, I think it's the perfect spot for the Judges to have placed their 'Symbols of Victory'. They must be somewhere, and so far, we haven't seen anything that could meet their description."
"True. It's that, or the abandoned mine." Morag conceded. "But that will be only of limited use during the Second Stage."
"We don't yet know what is waiting for us there."
So far, the Judges hadn't exactly been shy of unleashing some big and nasty surprises upon the different Champions participating in the regatta.
"No. Whatever awaits us in that theatrical mine, there's still the Venetian Lagoon. If everything fails, we can still go all-out in the last Stage before the finish line. This Task remains an endurance course. Let's treat it as one."
"You are the Champion, Alex."
"Yes, I suppose I am." The Hydra Animagus rolled her eyes. "Now I believe these Leprechauns and Sphinxes are preparing something hostile against our ship. Why don't we try to discourage them once and for all?"
27 May 1995, the Pirate Galleon, Third Stage of the Task
Alexandra honestly didn't know which location the Judges had chosen for the Third Stage of the Last Task.
An old volcano which had not had an eruption in the last centuries was her best guess. The rocks making the 'boundaries' of this natural arena were mostly basalt and the things you should find in a region where there had been lots of volcanic activity in the past.
It wasn't hard to arrive at the conclusion that once the magical Gate had been installed, filling the crater with water had been rather easy.
Alexandra could praise the ingenuity of the Tournament Judges for that, yes.
What the Hydra Animagus wasn't going to cheer for them for, however, was to have negotiated the services of a Djinn for this part of the Task.
Seriously.
A Djinn.
These beings were malicious, unrepentant tricksters that thrived on Chaos.
A few seconds past the moment her Caravel arrived on the battlefield, the Hogwarts crew was in a prime position to watch as the Djinn bowed to Lyudmila Romanov, handing her a simple laurel wreath.
"I thought we were speaking about big artefacts, you know." Morag admitted.
"We all thought like that," Alexandra replied. "But it seems that when the Judges spoke of Symbols of Victory, they really went for the simplest definition of it."
The laurel wreaths had been the rewards for the victors of athletic games during the Antiquity, which naturally included the famous Olympic Games organised in honour of Zeus.
"Is it me, or is it bad, Alex?"
"It is very, very bad, Hermione."
And even that was probably an understatement.
The Djinn had command of the Pirate Galleon, and was using it to profusely bombard the ship of Fleur Delacour.
Given that the aforementioned being was on the bridge of the Dark Valkyrie Caravel about two hundred metres away, it wasn't reassuring at all.
The sum of these facts would already have been bad enough for all the opposition.
But it was just the start of the bad news.
It had taken several minutes for Alexandra's ship to catch up with the leading trio, and Lyudmila had used the time to pulverise the Caravel of Romeo Malatesti.
Despite the metal plates the noble 'Doge' had covered the ship with, the Champion of Loki had transformed it into a sieve.
Right now, the Champion of Strife was trying to save it by throwing his transport ashore, likely in the hope he could make emergency repairs. That Malatesti didn't even try to help Delacour as she was fighting a losing battle against enchanted ordnance and malicious air blasts gave a clear idea how much damage he had taken against the Dark Queen of Durmstrang.
Was it all?
No.
No, Lyudmila Romanov had used her knowledge and her impressive skills to cast a grand ritual which was resulting in the creation of a great rampart of black ice.
Alexandra could smell the merging of Chaos Magic and Ice Curses from where she stood.
And yes, this rampart was a wall which prevented all Champions from reaching the next Gate leading to the Second Stage.
"This is the end of the adventure, isn't it?"
The Champion of Death snorted.
"Only if we don't win."
Seconds later, an avalanche of blasts slammed into Delacour's ship, throwing crew and other things directly into a great bath of agitated waters.
Everything except Delacour herself, that is.
The Fire Phoenix thrilled in an angry manner as it flew over the artificial lake, before flying in her direction.
Alexandra rolled her eyes, but repressed the urge to cast a few hexes at the Champion of Prometheus.
"You're going to have difficulties repairing your Caravel in order to reach the finish line," Alexandra commented idly as the Beauxbatons Champion returned to a human form.
"Forget my ship," Fleur Delacour seemed even more enraged than she had seen her during any Task so far. "I am going to slaughter this Dark Bitch and her Djinn acolyte."
Someone, clearly, had not enjoyed the jokes of Loki's Chosen.
Alexandra decided not to mention it; she didn't want her deck burning, thank you very much.
"If that is your intention, may I suggest waiting for Sforza and De Courtois?" The Hydra Animagus kept both eyes on the formidable opposition that was standing before her. "A Champion or two could make all the difference between defeat and victory."
"You haven't paid attention?" the Phoenix Animagus asked with a sneer worthy of the Slytherin. "They're staying on the other side of the Gate, out of reach of the Dark Queen. It seems they have decided to let us tear each other apart."
The Ravenclaw would have said some unflattering comments, but since it had been exactly her plan for close to half of the regatta, she was going to refrain.
It made the entire situation worse, of course. The Gates could only be used twice, once in each direction; Eugenie Millet and Angelina Johnson had discovered it while she was nearby.
There were no reinforcements for them, and they faced the Dark Queen, in the fullness of their power, supported by Astrid Sverre, Katharina Feuerbach, and of course, an extremely powerful Djinn.
The last part of that improbable quartet had chosen the appearance of a large bronze-coloured gargoyle, one which seemed to levitate and be unable to do anything but make rude gestures in their direction.
"I see. This is going to be a big problem. Hermione and Morag are not ready for a confrontation like this one."
"No," Morag approved, "we're definitely not."
"The Dark Queen isn't going to leave you any choice."
That was a very charming way to say 'you're screwed anyway', but Alexandra wasn't going to say out loud she was wrong.
In hindsight, it was a very good thing she had kept her Caravel in a near-pristine state so far, because at a guess? They were going to get demolished now.
"Keep the Djinn away for a few minutes, please. I have something that should give me a chance against Lyudmila Romanov."
"Don't take too long," the Champion of Fire and Life told her severely. "The Black Ice is expanding everywhere, and this lake is not infinite."
27 May 1995, the Coliseum of the Scuola Regina
The entire stadium held its breath.
Despite the enchanted mirrors showing an imperfect view of the situation, all the spectators could see it was going to be the titanic climax of the Last Task.
In fact, it had already begun.
In their haste to not enter the Third Stage, Lucrezia Sforza and Ambre De Courtois had come into conflict with the rest of the Champions coming behind them, and spells were flying everywhere.
But the big battle was going to take place in this partially submerged crater.
They all felt it.
Romeo Malatesti had abandoned his half-sunken ship now and transformed into his giant tiger form to join the Phoenix, all the while magic danced around the wands and the fingertips of every participant still in human form.
There was a storm brewing, and when it landed, it was going to be more explosive than ten tornados added together.
The tension was extreme.
The Black Ice was rising, creating several dark icebergs and extinguishing the torches spread on the slopes of the volcanic rocks.
It was so tense that the fact several Judges had been given a bull-headed treatment, literally, was acknowledged as unimportant.
It was the end of the Tournament, the final battle of the Last Task.
The witches and the wizards who had been there at the beginning of it could note that once again, the Champions who had fought against the Sea Snake were there.
Now all that was needed was a spark.
They received more than that.
And it came from where no one was looking anymore.
Viktor Krum's Caravel had finally escaped the dragon, though not unscathed; his crew, which was now including Blaise Zabini and Eurig Cadwallader, surged out of the gate, the Caravel's stern being a hellish scene where the wizards desperately tried to extinguish the dragon flames.
Obviously, the Bulgarian Star-Seeker realised immediately they had tried their best to avoid Charybdis only to fall into the jaws of Scylla.
But there was not a single chance to change course.
"NIFLHEIM!"
Lyudmila Romanov, Champion of Loki, cast the first attack, and the battle truly began.
27 May 1995, the Lake of Black Ice and the Djinn-Galleon, Third Stage of the Task
When it came to it, the Runic Galdr was always easier than the Runic Lokk.
A Galdr, after all, was a Runic sentence, nothing more, nothing less. Like a normal sentence in a non-magical language, it had a conjugation, and it answered to certain rules. Moreover, it was basically an inevitability that previous wizards and witches had already used this Galdr before you, so magic was going to answer in a rather predictable pattern.
A Lokk wasn't that. A Runic Lokk was creating your own vocabulary from existing Runes. You innovated by creating a Lokk, though of course, the most popular Lokk used by mages had by now become almost Galdr by themselves, such was the way they had been entrenched in magic and popular imagination.
There still were rules to be respected. Arithmancy applied to every magical discipline. A Lokk wasn't the exception to that rule.
And since Arithmancy calculations played a major role, this meant a Lokk had to be stable.
As a result, the practical NEWT test of Ancient Runes demanded you to perform a Lokk with seven Runes.
The one Alexandra wanted so she could fight on equal odds with Lyudmila involved twenty-one Runes.
Yes, it was stable, seven multiplied by three.
No, it wasn't exactly a good idea.
But it wasn't like there was a great chance of victory without it.
Lyudmila was the true Champion of the Dark, while her own access to the Dark Plane was faltering. Pandemonium could not compensate for that, not here and now, not without inflicting completely unacceptable damage.
And it wasn't like Alexandra or anyone else from Hogwarts had the power or the skill to challenge Lyudmila in a pure contest of Dark Curses and Black Magic in general.
The difference of a level was just too difficult.
Still, twenty-one Runes was...extremely optimistic.
Especially as they weren't Runes of the same Runic Alphabet.
Alexandra needed three Oghams for the foundations.
That was done.
"ALEX!"
It took a last-second dodge to avoid getting splattered by a massive levitating rock.
Damn the Djinn.
"DEPULSO!"
The mocking gargoyle stuck its tongue out.
First the Ifrit, then the Djinn. Alexandra must have done something awful in a past life to deserve-
"Garuda."
"TRIA AEGIS MAGNIFICAM!"
The large shield prevented her Hydra-painted Caravel from getting utterly devastated by a thousand feathers that looked like they had been forged with steel.
"Delacour! What happened to dealing with that-"
The Phoenix shrieked and then fell from the skies, gravity suddenly winning over the wings of Life.
The arrogant Veela crashed down in the lake, and didn't resurface immediately. And of course, Malatesti swam to rescue her-
"All right. Change of plan."
Casting a Lokk with a Djinn eager to smash her in a sneaking underhanded way was clearly impossible, and Lyudmila was clearly going to focus on her in the next seconds.
"Why does that fill me with dread?"
"Push all the winds you can in the sails, Morag! Hermione, on my command, cast, all the fire spells you know!"
"What-"
"Accio Laurel Wreath!" The howl of Lyudmila was rather loud. Yes, in all hindsight, making it a ceremony and not casting some anti-thieves wards had been a mistake for Loki's Chosen.
"Onwards! Wingardium Leviosa! Engorgio!"
There was no time to replicate the artificial meteors she had used in Korea, and besides, the collateral damage would certainly kill other Champions, which was naturally against the rules.
But the crater had nothing but the sky above it, and using a part of Delacour's Caravel was fair game. It wasn't like the Veela was going to have any use for it in the next minutes.
"REVERSO! FULMEN IMPERATOR!"
The Black Ice finally exploded, as a third of a wooden ship and one of the most powerful elemental attacks in existence impacted it in the same section.
The rampart fissured, then collapsed on about forty metres.
"Forwards! To the Second Stage, it is our best chance to survive this regatta!"
Yes, it was hardly a courageous strategy, but courage was going to see her joining Malatesti and Delacour at the bottom of the crater.
And the Laurel Wreath was now held by her right hand, while her Hydra wand cast as many elemental shields as she could.
"Death! Come back here immediately, I owe you a lesson you won't forget!"
"No, thanks!"
"DEATH!"
It said quite something that despite Krum's ship being in flames, Alexandra preferred taking her chances with whatever had almost incinerated Hermione's boyfriend than facing the Dark Queen.
"Err...Alex? She really sounds furious?"
"You want to go back and duel her?"
They were almost at the Gate. Ten more seconds, ten little seconds-
Something huge hissed, and Darkness came to swallow the world.
On a scale from one to one hundred to assess the level of fury, they had to be at a respectable ninety-nine.
"AEGIS OMEGA!"
The impact was so powerful it made sure the Caravel flew straight through the Gate.
27 May 1995, the Little Mine under the Big Mountain, Second Stage of the Last Task
Morag opened her eyes.
It was really, really dark, and she wasn't feeling good at all.
What had happened?
Oh, right, the Dark Queen's attack had almost been their death.
That didn't explain why it was so dark, though.
The Second Stage was an abandoned mine, but there had been plenty of enchanted torches and other sources of light.
"Alex," she cleared her throat, knowing her friend had perfect night vision thanks to her Animagus form, "where are you-"
"Don't speak."
There was a rumble, and then something from the obscurity, an enormous muzzle seemed to become their entire world, sniffing deeply.
It was bloody huge.
Suddenly, Morag remembered.
Krum's ship has been set aflame. Flames the like that even the ice of Chaos had been melting when wooden debris fell into the water.
As if to echo her thoughts, the giant maw opened, revealing fangs that were outright bigger than those boasted by any tiger.
Morag shivered.
Then something flew, and the maw shut down.
There was a heavy sound of mastication.
The young pureblood Heiress heard Hermione whimper behind her.
Morag tried her best to breathe as little as possible.
Twice, three times, the same choreography repeated itself.
Alexandra was clearly feeding the monster.
No, not the monster.
The dragon.
The third time seemed to have satiated the mighty flame-breathing reptile, though.
There was a thunderous roar, and the snout and the head of the dragon disappeared.
Large sounds of wings shook the ship, and the XXXXX-class danger which had been so close to ending their lives flew away from them. The dragon flames had stayed inside the maw.
They were saved.
"When I prepared a lunch just in case we needed to rest because the Seventh Task was taking too long," Alexandra mused, "I didn't think my precious mackerel lunch would end up being my salvation."
"You gave the dragon mackerel?" Hermione moved, and her limbs were shaking in an impressive fashion.
"It's all I had nearby," their friend answered defensively. "Praise the Morrigan, now we know the Hungarian Horntail likes eating fish."
"You will hear no criticisms from me. Now why is it so dark?"
"The Dark Queen's last attack temporarily overloaded the magical defences of the Gate and the Ley Line that must have been used to power all the enchantments. Lumos!"
The small ball of light was only a fraction of what a Champion could illuminate, even on a bad day. That said, Morag understood why Alexandra was unwilling to provide more light.
As it was, her visage was more worried than in any stage they'd fought their way across.
"I suppose it's a stupid question, but I presume this dragon is not of the talking and intelligent kind?"
"It's not a stupid question, and no, it isn't."
"Why did the Judges place it in the very beginning?" Hermione grouchily intervened. "Someone could have been killed."
"Someone was."
Alexandra pointed her wand to the small bonfires in the distance.
Morag watched for a few seconds before her mind made the connection.
"Is that...is that a Caravel?"
"Nott's Caravel, I think. I think I saw Blaise Zabini and Eurig Cadwallader helping aboard Viktor Krum's ship."
Morag grimaced.
She wouldn't say she was fond of Junior Death Eater Theodore Nott, but no one deserved being eaten or burned alive by a dragon, not even him.
As for Lucian Bole, the Slytherin Beater always had been a nasty brute.
"I think that in a display of incompetence, they broke some of the chains supporting the enchantments holding the Horntail captive."
Alexandra sighed.
"I will really have to speak with the true leaders of House Slytherin when this is all over. I know self-preservation was at the forethought of their minds, but would it have been too much to hope they chose someone like Diggory to make the illusion they actually tried for a good part of the Tournament?"
"If they hadn't had some cunning in that direction," Morag chuckled softly, "they wouldn't have been Slytherins."
Alexandra hissed something that was not exactly polite.
"No use crying about it now. Let's get out of here."
"Err, Alex? If the Gate we used to arrive was knocked out, then the other surely is."
"Probably, but I'm confident the Judges are busy re-activating everything as quickly as possible." In the darkness, Morag had noticed it before, but now her friend's green eyes truly seemed imbued with emerald draconic magic. "I am very thankful I didn't take Fingolfin for this Task. The Hungarian Horntail breed is notorious for its inability to tolerate the presence of all other dragons in its territory. The nesting mothers are good mothers, but the moment their babies are able to hunt for themselves, they're told to get away and not return."
Of course Alexandra knew more about the Horntails than them despite not attending a single class of Care of Magical Creatures this year.
"We're sailing as stealthily as we can to the Gate, then?"
"Yes. In the meantime, I'm going to prepare the most powerful Lokk I wanted to use before Delacour proved no match for Lyudmila Romanov."
Morag winced.
"Do we really need to go to such extremities?"
"Do you think we stand a chance against the Dark Queen if she catches us?"
Evidently, seen like that...
"I didn't think the gap of power between you too was so large."
"She is the true Champion of the Dark, completely dedicated to Loki and Chaos, Morag." Alexandra seemed...exhausted. It wasn't really reassuring, though she appeared to have some fighting energy left burning in her eyes. "And at the risk of repeating arguments that were common before the First Task, she's older than I am. She's had far more time to study the mysteries of Dark Curses and learn a frightening number of Dark Rituals."
The little ball of light was sent to levitate right over the very damaged snake prow of the Hydra Caravel.
"Fortunately, I don't have to duel her victoriously. I just have to beat her to the finish line."
"You don't know how I like listening to these words, Alex. But if we do that, we forget the idea to search for the second Symbol of Victory."
"Morag, the second 'Symbol' is most likely near the dragon's nest. I am not volunteering to go near it. Are you?"
"When you look at it like that...no, I don't."
"Hermione?"
"There's not enough Galleons in the world to convince me to do it," the bushy-haired Ravenclaw swore.
"Good." Alexandra shook her head. "Let's get out of here before something we can't handle comes to sink us."
27 May 1995, the Coliseum
"I'm so very glad I wasn't chosen to be a Substitute."
"Somehow, I knew you were going to say that, Hannah."
"Can you blame me? I have nightmares just watching that Hungarian Horntail...and we're safely away from the beast."
Her best friend wasn't really wrong, Susan acknowledged.
The black-scaled dragon was truly the apex predator everyone thought of when someone said 'dragon'.
"I certainly couldn't have stood like your girlfriend did, and calmly fed it like it was a capricious pet."
"It worked, didn't it?"
Susan Bones didn't say out loud that if Alexandra had decided to rely upon something so hazardous, it was because she didn't feel able to beat the dragon, or she didn't think she could afford to lose the time it would take...unless it was the fire damage the Horntail could deliver upon her severely-damaged Caravel.
It could be all of the above too.
Yes, 'all of the above' sounded right.
"Well, I hope Ravenclaw is going to win. Our House isn't going to."
"Cedric should have known better than to participate in that...in that savage melee."
The battle that had just ended in the Fourth Stage hadn't been as horribly one-sided as the one involving the Dark Queen, but it had not been pretty either.
Lucrezia Sforza was the Champion of Water, and she had proved it in a devastating way. Add the problem that Cedric and Cho had not done much more than cosmetic repairs, and the Venetian Succubus had shattered everything before letting them swim to the islands where laughing Leprechauns danced songs to celebrate their sudden misfortunes.
"There just aren't many Champions left in the regatta. Eugenie Millet was sunk by Sforza right at the same time."
"And the Dark Queen destroyed Malatesti, Delacour, and Krum."
The latter had been done with such a desultory facility that it had made plenty of people gasp in fear.
Lyudmila Romanov had been alone, and Krum had had four wizards to support him.
It had not done the Bulgarian Seeker any good.
The fight had been short, brutal, and the outcome had never been in doubt.
Yeah, the greatest Champion of Durmstrang had reminded everyone why she was the strongest contender for Tournament victory several months ago.
The only difference between then and now was that the Dark Queen hadn't done her best, since no wizard or witch had died by their hand.
"OOOHHHHHHHH!"
The exclamations coming from everywhere were particularly loud as new fireworks exploded, some of them hurling new Curses at the Lodge where the Judges were trying to bunker down.
"Again?" Hannah laughed. "Come on, they arrested the Weasley Twins something like an hour ago. It should have stopped by now!"
"It should have, if it was their work," Susan commented drily.
Her best friend gave her the expression she often reserved for Zacharias Smith.
"Those are their fireworks."
"Yes. And their sweets, their cursed cream, and many more things were also involved, as I recall."
"Yes. So it is their fault."
"They gave out all the materials, yes. But since it is Alexandra who provided the financing for this huge prank, you can bet it needed a Source Rune to activate at irregular intervals. And clearly, the beloved Champion of House Ravenclaw was too busy to inflict sweet revenge upon the Judges. As for the Weasley Twins, well, everyone would suspect them from the start."
Hannah's eyebrows moved a lot for the next seconds.
"That's...hmm...yes, that's correct. Wait. How do you know all of that?"
Susan smiled and removed a small object from her pocket.
"I know it, because it is I my girlfriend gifted the Source Rune to this morning."
27 May 1995, the Little Mine under the Big Mountain, Second Stage of the Last Task
Hermione didn't realise it for something like ten seconds, but when the Gate in front of them activated again, she began to breathe way easier.
"It looks like we aren't trapped in an underground mine with a giant reptile."
Alexandra laughed.
"Don't try to sound so relieved, Hermione."
"Apologies, your Hydra Majesty," she felt enough strength to retort. "The majority of the people in the magical world don't think dragons make formidable pets."
"Hermione isn't going to work in a Dragon Reserve any time soon, Alex."
"Ha. Ha. Ha. You're hilarious today."
"One of my greatest qualities, according to my friends."
That brought a loud groan, followed by more hissing.
In spite of herself, Hermione found herself smiling. It was often so funny triggering that sort of reaction.
"You don't sound so happy."
"I am very happy, I assure you!" the Champion assured them. "It's just that while we aren't trapped with the Hungarian Horntail-"
A thunderous roar shook the mine and everything around them.
"We are trapped in the same regatta as the Dark Queen of Chaos." Alexandra finished sarcastically.
"She's going to have to fight her way through the Hungarian Horntail, no?"
"She probably will, yes."
The worried expression told volumes about who exactly Alexandra would bet if there had been a gambling office nearby, and it would clearly not be the black dragon.
There was a second roar, and then Hermione felt it.
The unmistakable sensation of Dark was spreading all around.
"Small favours, she can't kill the dragon," was the laconic analysis that was uttered. Alexandra's head didn't even turn; her eyes remained on the Gate leading them to the First Stage. "I am leaving the navigation part to you two. Please avoid distracting me unless we have an enemy in range to sink us."
27 May 1995, the Venetian Lagoon, First Stage
"We are once again in the Lagoon!"
"What? This wasn't supposed to happen!" Yes, Neville was well aware it was not the most astute reply a Hogwarts student had ever made.
At the moment, the Gryffindor wizard didn't really care.
Because within a few seconds, he realised there was a far bigger problem.
"Are we sure this is the Lagoon? Last time, the weather wasn't this...stormy."
"It is the Lagoon, the coordinates check out."
"Damn."
What else could you say as the skies were filled with dark clouds of ill omen and massive waves were soaring in vain attempts to reach the sky everywhere around you?
"This should have been the Third Stage, not the First," Neville said before grimacing. "Assuming, you know, this has some importance left since we are forced to travel across these insane stages twice."
"Yeah," Ron approved at the helm. "I don't know the reason the Judges did it, but I already hate it."
Neville exchanged a long expression of suffering with Angelina.
Ron was most assuredly right.
The Judges did nothing without a good reason, and said motive most of the time had its roots in sadism and inflicting the greatest pain possible upon the Champions.
"The big question is whether we try to sail for the Coliseum, or we go back to the Second Stage." He tried to present the most Ravenclaw-calm voice he could.
"Why by Merlin's Beard would we do that, Neville? We're close to the finish line, let's charge towards it?"
"Err...Ron? We haven't grabbed a single 'Symbol of Victory', and last time I checked, we didn't exactly do anything noteworthy either."
"We let the others sink their respective Caravels and survived," Angelina grinned while expertly adjusting the sails.
"That's good for our life-expectancy, not so much for the score we will earn you," the Boy-Who-Lived replied immediately.
The former Champion of Fate was going to acknowledge that no, he wasn't a good judge of people.
Right now, on the other hand, you didn't particularly have to be to be certain that neither Ron nor Angelina were very much interested in making a new adventure into the other stages of the Seventh Task.
"The Coliseum, then?" he cleared his throat.
"Yes. No offense, Neville, but if we go with the other course of action, we're going to face the big leagues. And you saw what happened to Diggory, who had a far more powerful crew than us."
"Yeah, he got sunk for his-"
The dark Lagoon was suddenly illuminated by what felt like a thousand bolts of lightning.
That was, if you believed natural lightning was emerald and always struck at vaguely the same location.
"Angelina?"
"Yes?"
"I'm afraid the big leagues are already in the same waters as us."
Then a thousand bolts of emerald lightning descended once again to grace the Lagoon with the fury of thunder.
"That wasn't a Fulmen Imperator. What is Potter doing?"
There was a third giant 'illumination'. And it was followed by another one.
From where they were, it definitely looked like a giant tree made of lightning was coming into existence, with a single ship dancing over the waves and being empowered by the thunder.
"Curse the Judges!" Ron barked.
"Yes, a thousand Hair-Splitting Curses upon their sadistic heads!" Neville replied with plenty of strength. "Now we know why they sent us to the 'wrong' stage."
The bastards wanted to arrange a final naval battle with every last Champion who had a caravel able to float.
"That doesn't explain why the Ravenclaw Caravel is trying to do a show that illuminates more than a Yule Tree, however."
"Neville..."
Angelina's expression had shifted from amused to utterly terrified.
The future Lord Longbottom turned slowly to face-
His mind almost faltered in fear.
This was something big.
No, it was something titanic.
It had plenty of black scales, and it was enormous.
Most of it was hidden under the waves, of course.
But what he could see-
Neville was sure the sound out of his throat was very close to a whimper.
"Please someone tell me this is not the Sea Snake of the First Task."
"It is not a Sea Snake," Ron's voice was beginning to crumble under the weight of fear and panic. "It is way too big for that!"
****
Once again, the Judges had broken most of their pre-battle assumptions and utterly changed the Task paradigm.
In hindsight, the series of pranks Alexandra had commissioned for them may not have been enough, if they still had nasty ideas like those.
"Who is left?" she asked, trying to not grit her Hydra fangs.
"As far as I can see...Eleonora da Riva, who has somehow made an improbable come-back, Ambre De Courtois, Lucrezia Sforza, and of course, our trio of intrepid Gryffindors."
"Who are right in the path of a certain Dark Queen."
"I see only a giant sea snake...ah, forget it. Alex, you Champions are cheating incarnate."
"Not a bad way to describe it."
It didn't save Angelina Johnson, unfortunately.
Lyudmila Romanov threw herself above the waves and transformed back into a vaguely human appearance, landing violently on the deck of the Gryffindor Caravel.
It didn't take a minute for the brave resistance to end.
"Did...did she change all of them into big felines?"
Alexandra chuckled.
"Yes, yes, I believe she did. That's Loki sense of humour, I suppose."
Angelina had been given the 'honour' of being transformed into a tigress. A black-stripped white tigress, to be accurate.
Neville Longbottom and Ron Weasley hadn't been that lucky.
The two had been changed into russet-furred housecats.
This was very humiliating, especially for Longbottom, who was a Nemean Lion Animagus.
"It looks like your stratagem worked a bit too well, Alex. We were able to leave the Dark Queen's Caravel far behind us, but she retaliated by leaving her Caravel behind her."
"Things didn't exactly go according to the plan, Morag, I'm well aware of it."
Alexandra's eyes turned towards the bright 'Thunder Tree' that her Lokk had created and merged with the main mast of the Caravel.
It was magnificent.
It radiated Lightning Elemental Magic.
It was allowing her the ability to replenish her reserves, which had been severely depleted by the last rounds of fighting. It gave her ship twice the cruising speed it could have relied upon with sails and winds alone.
But it was too soon.
Besides, the Lokk had not been perfect. For a completely stable 'Thunder Tree' being carved into existence with a merging of three types of wood with Metal, Alexandra should have been able to channel seven series of lightning bolts into it, and she had only managed five.
And unfortunately, that wasn't something you could yawn about and shrug like it was unimportant.
Worse, her knowledge of Runes was insufficient to tell what she had done wrong.
"What's the new plan?"
"We are going to try to out-race Lyudmila. She's trying to commandeer the Gryffindor Caravel by herself, Astrid Sverre and Katharina Feuerbach won't reach her in time."
"Alex, we aren't going to be able to escape. The Dark Queen is way too close, and with this stormy weather, we don't even see the final Gate."
"I know."
"And even if you sink the Gryffindor Caravel...she will probably go after De Courtois or someone else, and order their ships around too."
"I know. This is why I must take the initiative."
"And how-"
"FULMEN IMPERATOR OMEGA!"
The attack was overwhelming, and the best part was that it was all the Thunder Tree's doing, Alexandra doing nothing but act as a lightning rod.
It was powerful. It was a cascade of elemental magic that convinced the three feline Gryffindors that salvation was to be found elsewhere.
Lyudmila Romanov laughed and summoned a giant miasma of Chaos Magic to absorb it.
But for a few seconds, she was blind.
"FULMEN REGINA LUMINA!"
The Lagoon disappeared, blinding the opposition in a thousand flashes.
Alexandra used the opportunity to throw herself out of her Caravel and diving into the Lagoon waters.
It was bloody cold now.
It didn't feel pleasant.
She became the Hydra in a couple of seconds.
A partial Transfiguration this time, no matter how much her inner animal didn't like that.
It was hard to maintain this humanoid form, and not let the nine heads unfurl themselves.
But against the Dark Queen, it would be useless.
Unlike what she was going to do.
The problem was the lack of time.
If Lyudmila understood what she was about to be-
No, one problem at a time.
Using nothing but her newly transfigured claws, Alexandra began to carve the Runes upon the keel of the Caravel.
It was crude.
It would assuredly not win her any prize in an Ancient Runes contest.
But she was getting tired.
It was too much.
And as much as she did hate admit it-
"Lady Morrigan, I humbly beseech your help."
You have it, my Champion.
"By the Power of Lightning that is yet to be Revealed...I call upon the blessings of the Storm, Wunjo above, Raido below, Eihwaz forwards, send this ship back to the Last Ley Line it met! WRE!"
There was an enormous blast of magic.
The Caravel disappeared.
And if Alexandra had felt exhausted before, it was nothing compared to the level of tiredness that engulfed her after that.
Morag had to help her climb back aboard the Hydra Caravel a minute later.
She didn't ask if it had been enough; they would know the answer to that question before the hour was over.
27 May 1995, the Headmasters' Lodge, the Coliseum of the Scuola Regina
The arrival of the first Caravel into the Coliseum was greeted by a torrent of applause.
Especially from all the Beauxbatons students and the public which had come to support the students of the Academy.
Indeed, succeeding where most of the gamblers had predicted nothing of the sort, it was Ambre de Courtois and her ship who reached the finish line in first position, and as some flamboyant magical projection made clear, the French witch had claimed the Three Symbols of Victory, aka the Laurel Wreath, the Cup and the Crown.
While most Champions had been busy fighting each other, Madame Maxime's student had been busy investigating, finding and taking the trophies for herself.
Of course, the Beauxbatons girl would likely have not taken first place if the Judges had not let her take a short-cut between the Third Stage and the First one.
Moreover, while there had been duels, ultimately neither the Substitutes nor Ambre de Courtois had done any very impressive feats of magic. And when it came down to it, the Tournament was grand theatrical performance.
"In second place, we have a crew of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry!"
Predictably, all the students that had hoisted supporting banners and pennons exploded in acclamations. Proof that the Weasley Twins' influence extended far, over a hundred fireworks of blue and bronze lit the sky above the stadium.
This contrasted with the lack of energy of the heroic participants themselves.
All three girls looked like they wanted nothing but to find a bed to collapse upon and sleep twelve hours without interruption.
It took only a few minutes of waiting after that for Lyudmila Romanov and her Caravel to arrive, and here, it was the Durmstrang crowd who gave their Queen roars and a semi-triumph. Karkaroff's favourite student had sunk Eleonora da Riva's ship in a cataclysmic display of offended pride after being returned to the start of the Lagoon stage.
In fourth place, and Filius Flitwick had difficulties believing the ship was still able to sail, be it with the boons of a Power, Lucrezia Sforza, Champion of Water, for the Scuola Regina.
And this was all.
All the other crews had been forced to forfeit, to withdraw from the race for diverse reasons, but the most common one was that their ship had been sent into a watery grave.
And then there was the case of Theodore Nott.
Filius Flitwick sighed.
Now knowing what he did, the Charms Master knew he should have fought Albus when the preliminaries' list arrived on their desks. But he wasn't the Head of Slytherin, and at the time, he had other subjects of preoccupation.
In the end, it was not wrong to say that the students Severus Snape had agreed to represent his House were unsuited for all the Tasks, save perhaps Graham Montague for broom-racing.
And Theodore Nott and Lucian Bole had paid the price.
The older Slytherin and former Beater were still alive, but Filius didn't know for how long; dragon flames carried a lot of magical power, and Lucian Bole had been burned so badly the handlers had to pour many Potions upon his skin just to make him transportable.
Naturally, there had been nothing they could do for Theodore Nott. Not with half of his body cooked and then devoured by the Hungarian Horntail.
"It was a very chaotic Task," the acting-Headmaster of Hogwarts told the other Heads of the European magical schools. "Now it remains to be seen what interpretation the Judges will make of it for their scores."
27 May 1995, the Finish Line, the Lake-Arena of the Coliseum
Fortunately, there were drinks and meals aplenty to give them the strength to carry on.
Alexandra was sure she would have fallen asleep several minutes ago if that wasn't the case.
"They are taking their bloody time," Angelina Johnson commented next to her.
"In a hurry, tigress?"
"This is not funny," the oldest girl of the Gryffindor Chasers grumbled as plenty of people snickered next to her. "You Champions of Magic have a really twisted sense of humour."
"Something we've been accused of thousands of times, and for good reason," Alexandra replied with a smile, before returning to the subject at hand. "It's taking a while for the Judges to decide the ranks, but let's be thankful: this time the ceremonies are several days away."
Political urgency had forced everyone's hands for the Task, but everything, be it prizes, flowers, or other things, was going to be part of a big event, one better known as the Summer Ball.
Therefore they only had to wait for the Judges to arrive at their decision, announce the scores, and then...oh, no, they had to answer to the journalists after that, didn't that?
Alexandra struggled to not yawn in front of thousands of spectators.
Her body and her inner animal wanted a break. The sum of the efforts done during half of the race had been way too much, and rising at dawn and spending hours to prepare the Caravel had not improved matters.
"You were right about Nott." Blaise intervened.
This time, self-control or not, Alexandra grimaced.
"If I had known he was so incompetent and stupid, I would have pushed for you to become the Champion, Blaise."
As it was, it was a minor miracle that Nott had only managed to kill Bole and himself. Fine, Lucian Bole was not yet dead...emphasis on the 'yet'.
"Thanks...I guess?"
Morag snorted.
"It is one of those moments where it is very tempting to say that you could not have done any worse."
Alexandra rolled her eyes. It was hardly a compliment to say to anyone you could have done better than rushing like a berserker at a dragon that was literally immune to most of the spells you had ever mastered or even cast in your life.
"Who's going to win the Task, in your opinion?" Johnson asked after several seconds of silence, which everyone on the finish platform used to fill up their bellies and try to claim back some measure of sanity.
"Ambre de Courtois, most likely," the young Lady Protector admitted grudgingly. "She was the only one to get the three 'Symbols of Victory'; everyone else has at best one."
"She took the short-cut, same as we did."
"That's the Judges' doing, not hers, unless you think she can change the enchantments of elite mages who have mastered this to the level of a Magical Art?" The dark-skinned girl made a silent 'no'. "Yes, I didn't think so."
"It isn't good news for us, Alex."
The Hydra Animagus breathed out.
"It could be worse. I think the scores aren't going to be that far from each other, at least where the four finisher crews are concerned. We all got at least one Symbol, and though we couldn't be sure since we were in the race, Ambre doesn't seem to have done anything notable."
And the Beauxbatons girl had begun the Seventh Task with a massive disadvantage, just speaking of the points.
"Ironically, I am far more interested in seeing if Nott is going to be the first Champion to end with negative points."
"Ah..." Hermione coughed. "Right. He had a negative mark for taking three substitutes aboard, right?"
"Right. And according to Viktor Krum, he did a lot of wrong things...hell, I can't find anything he did right."
It took a special brand of incompetence to smash your Caravel against the entrance Gate, despite having no opposition and being allowed to train on a ship for the better part of a month.
"Cedric?"
"His idea to try to overtake the Dark Queen was not particularly inspired." Alexandra sarcastically answered.
"Speaking of the Dark Queen, the expression she's giving you while you have your back turned is very, very..."
"Loki-ironic?"
"Yes, that," Morag nodded vigorously. "You and her have not ended this story with the Seven Task."
"That would have been too simple, and when has my life been simple?" Powers of Irony, give her strength, for the world was trying to pull off a joke and no Champion of Death could ever be ready for that.
"Some more brilliant news to announce, oh Lady MacDougal?"
"Oh, plenty-"
"THE JUDGES' DELIBERATIONS ARE OVER! THE SCORES AND THE RANKINGS OF THE SEVENTH TASK ARE ABOUT TO BE REVEALED!"
The enchanted mirrors and other magical broadcasting methods froze, and then as they had been warned, the list of sixteen names was published.
Scores of the Seventh Task:
1st Ambre de Courtois: 146 points
2nd Lyudmila Romanov: 140 points
3rd Alexandra Potter: 138 points
4th Lucrezia Sforza: 110 points
5th Fleur Delacour: 85 points
6th Romeo Malatesti: 83 points
7th Eleonora da Riva: 76 points
8th Cedric Diggory: 74 points
9th Angelina Johnson: 71 points
10th Eugenie Millet: 70 points
11th Johann Wolffhart: 60 points
12th Ulrich Fuchs: 55 points
13th Giovanni Ruspoli: 52 points
14th Martin Bayard: 50 points
15th Viktor Krum: 20 points
16th Theodore Nott: -5 points
"Well, I was right." Alexandra chuckled. "It was indeed possible to get negative points, and Nott achieved it."
"Never mind that, Alexandra! You did it, you won!"
Alexandra tried to do the mental math to verify it, but she wasn't in the mood to do some mathematics, and fortunately, some mirrors changed to reflect the final scoreboard.
Final Individual Scores of the European Magical Tournament:
1st Alexandra Potter – 528 points
2nd Lyudmila Romanov – 450 points
3rd Lucrezia Sforza – 415 points
4th Eleonora da Riva – 402 points
5th Ambre de Courtois – 381 points
6th Romeo Malatesti – 283 points
7th Viktor Krum – 227 points
8th Cedric Diggory – 214 points
9th Fleur Delacour – 185 points
10th Henri de Condé – 134 points
11th Angelina Johnson – 129 points
12th Giovanni Ruspoli – 117 points
13th Martin Bayard – 105 points
14th Eugenie Millet – 80 points
15th Johann Wolffhart – 74 points
16th Ulrich Fuchs – 59 points
17th Yegor Poliakov – 50 points
18th Neville Longbottom – 40 points
19th Geoffrey Hooper – 39 points
20th Frode Falk – 35 points
21st Armand Coularé de La Fontaine – 24 points
22nd Graham Montague – 21 points
23rd Lucas Gauthier – 19 points
24th Boris Viipuri – 11 points
25th Karl Schumacher – 3 points
26th ex-aequo: Lorenzo de Medici, Cassius Warrington, Pyotr Karamnov – 0 point
29th Theodore Nott – -5 points
A second later, her senses were overwhelmed as the section containing her friends and other British supporters began to scream like they had won the Quidditch World Cup...which wasn't far off the mark, truthfully.
The Twins proved they had smuggled far more fireworks than she had thought, and as Alexandra waved to the crowd, the chants, including her first name, began to resonate everywhere in the Coliseum.
Alexandra wasn't going to lie: it felt very, very good.
"Morag, Hermione, is our Caravel able to tolerate a last lap of honour?"
"It will, even if I have to carry the ship on my shoulders!"
Alexandra raised an eyebrow in surprise before laughing and beginning to hug Hermione. All around them, the stands celebrated everything, and it was a magnificent sum of Chaos.
They laughed; they jumped, and they did cry, temporarily forgetting how tired they all were.
It was beautiful.
And the Champion of the Morrigan almost wished it would never end.
Author's note: This is not the official end of the European Magical Tournament, this will come with the Summer Solstice, but this assuredly was the Last Task of the competition.
I hope everyone liked the challenges and every trial which went with it.
Oh, and yes, the Weasley Twins swear they're up to no good.