Daphne Greengrass was beginning to wonder how she found herself surrounded by such simpletons. And not only that, but also how the love of her life was able draw them in like moths to a flame.
She had silently ground her teeth as she watched him talk with Fleur Delacour before the third task began, as the Beauxbatons Champion hanged off him like a whore before dragging him over to meet her Mother as they all watched on.
And then there was Bones, a bimbo with her head in the clouds if Daphne ever saw one. She truly wondered why Harry would fall for the redhead’s idiocy, and as if that wasn’t enough, he had returned from the Lands Between with the girl’s clone.
Daphne had kept a careful, analytical eye on this ‘Millicent’ since she first arrived. Initially, she had been intimidated by the girl, her sheer presence giving off a sense of danger that made her feel like a mouse trapped beneath a dragon’s claws. However, that initial impression soon dissipated to reveal a girl that was just as dimwitted as Susan Bones.
What am I missing? She silently seethed, sitting amongst the other students in the audience as the third task of the Triwizard Tournament played out in front of them. Much like the second task, the students of all three schools could watch the task through the magical viewers set up by the Ministry.
The four screens followed the Champions through the hedge maze set up for the task, and her eyes carefully tracked Harry as he slowly meandered through the maze. He was in rough shape, something those potions he took failed to hide, as his tired and beaten body meandered through the maze’s hedges sluggishly.
Even thinking about what could put such a powerful wizard in such a state made her shiver, as Harry Potter was in the same league as Dumbledore and Voldemort in her mind. Even if most had seemingly forgotten how he tossed that dragon around like a toy in the first task, Daphne had not, and it genuinely scared her to know he could be beaten and injured so terribly.
The Lands Between must be truly dangerous. It made her rethink what kind of monsters lived in that strange realm Harry visited, and she eyed Millicent with renewed interest as the girl stood at her side.
It was just the two of them standing in the audience alone at the moment, however Susan soon joined them, returning after purchasing sweets from the concessions stand.
“Liquorice wand?” Susan offered the wizarding sweet to their new companion.
“Sure!” Millicent smiled, reaching out from her cloak to take it.
The foreign redhead still wore the same brown cloak to conceal her identity from the surrounding students, pushing part of it aside as she reached out to take the offered liquorice wand with a hand that was made of gold.
“Woah.” Bones also seemed to notice the hand and attached arm that was made of a metallic gold, which plucked the item from her outstretched hand. “Did you- um, lose your arm?”
“It happened when I was born, I think.” Millicent replied easily, taking a bite out of the offered sweet as she spoke. “The prosthesis was a gift I received from Princess Ranni a few months back.”
Interesting. On the surface, the Lands Between seemed almost archaic and medieval in Daphne’s eyes, but the prosthetic arm in front of her was evidence otherwise. Not only was Harry’s strange, powerful magic proof of this, but now she had what laid in front of her as evidence of an advanced magical society.
She looked away from the advanced prosthetic, not ignoring its implications, as she watched Harry evade a blast-ended skrewt and continue on through the maze.
He turned a corner, his wand lighting the way as he casually strolled. But then he suddenly stopped, as the viewer turned the corner behind him to see what had caused him to pause. The sight that greeted Daphne then was one that made her gasp in astonishment, and she was hardly the only one.
The whole audience had gone quiet, whispering excitedly and in partial reverence to each other at what was visible on the screen.
“What is that?” Millicent asked.
“It’s a sphinx.” Daphne answered, failing to keep the awe out of her voice.
They were magical creatures that were considered almost divine, each one being centuries - or possibly millennia - old and genius in their intellect. How the the tournament organizers had possibly arranged for one to be present for the tournament was beyond her.
Just like the tales, it had the body of a lion and the head of a human. As for its head, it blurred the lines between male and female, having grayish colored hair and odd, twisted horns that sprouted from between its locks.
Happening to look over to the judges booth, she saw that the organizers were just as surprised as her. Even Dumbledore looked shocked, his mouth slightly agape at the sight, meaning the sphinx was obviously not meant to be part of the tournament.
However, it was what came next that truly shocked Daphne. And not just her, as both Susan and Millicent stiffened in surprise.
“Tarnished one.” The creature greeted. “Alas, we finally meet.”
Harry went still as the viewer watched on. “…You know me?”
“I know of thy kind, those that seek what lieth at the base of the Erdtree.”
“So you know of the Lands Between then? Is that where you’re from?”
“I am a creature of the Crucible, hailing from what most would call the Land of Shadow.” The Sphinx corrected.
“I can’t say I’ve heard of it.”
The sphinx swayed its tail in what looked like frustration. “I suppose thou wouldn’t. For it hath been centuries since any crossed over between the realm of the Erdtree and that of Shadow. Except for one, that is. An interloper searching out the Crucible itself, along with his followers.”
Daphne could barely follow what they were talking about, and she was hardly the only one. Ignoring Susan, Millicent looked even more confused, and the redhead was more informed than them about whatever this ‘realm of Shadow’ was.
“Who?” Harry asked.
“I can tell you, but you will only receive thy answer through a riddle.” The sphinx straightened. “Answer my riddle correctly, and I will let let you pass. Fail, and I will attack. Leave, and I will let you go freely.”
“I’ll do the riddle then.” Harry answered, and the sphinx soon began to speak.
“He is one who wishes to bring about a kinder world.
Who followed the path paved with good intentions.
Whose hair was spun of strings of gold.
And body was spurned with the curse of youth.
He is the deceiver who lacks wisdom and restraint.
Who wishes to manipulate all, no matter their blood.
Who walks through darkness to the crucible of gods.”
Whatever the creature meant by the riddle, Daphne did not know, but she could instantly tell Harry knew. She watched him through the viewer, seeing how still he had become, how his breaths had become shallow and eyes wide and somewhat wild.
But soon he settled, shoulders slumping as he seemed to come to a sort of grim acceptance.
“Miquella, huh?” He muttered quietly, so much so that Daphne barely caught it.
That was when he spun around and launched a spell that destroyed the viewer, sending the screen into darkness.
The audience reeled at the sight, exclamations of outrage erupting as some of the Ministry officials looked livid. Those magical viewers were expensive after all, and it was one thing to lose them by accident, but a whole other to have a Champion purposefully destroy them.
She watched Dumbledore and the other judges panic and argue for a moment, before Daphne whirled on the only native resident of the Lands Between in their midst to demand answers. “What was that about?”
The redhead didn’t immediately answer, looking very serious as she thought over everything. “The person Harry spoke of was Miquella, being Princess Malenia’s brother. He has been missing for a long time.”
“The Princess Harry is marrying, right? Her brother?” Susan questioned, keeping her voice down. “So the Sphinx was talking about him? He doesn’t seem like that great a guy by the sound of things.”
“He’s actually viewed very highly.” Millicent grimaced, normal cheerfulness forgotten. “To speak ill of him in Malenia’s presence would be… ill-advised.”
Daphne’s brows furrowed in confusion at the answer, and went to ask for clarification, but that was the viewer following Krum went out as well. Another uproar erupted from the audience, and she paused to take it all in before continuing with their conversation.
“What do you know about what the sphinx spoke of in its riddle?”
“The first half makes sense, as Miquella had blond hair and was cursed with eternal youth in his childhood. He made his life about helping others, growing the Haligtree for the downtrodden to live in, crafting Unalloyed Gold and Malenia’s needle to help with her Rot. But the second half of what that creature spoke… Manipulating and deceiving people? Even those of his own blood?” Millicent looked conflicted. “That doesn’t sound him at all.”
Daphne turned back to watch the viewers - with only two remaining that followed Delacour and Diggory. However, it was in the moment after she looked back that a spell hit Delacour in the back, sending her to the ground in a heap.
Once again, the audience gasped and either cheered or cried in outrage. It seemed the Veela was out of the competition, and the logical conclusion was that Krum had cursed her in the back.
She grumbled in frustration under her breath, only getting the slightest bit of satisfaction from seeing her romantic competitor for Harry’s attention lose so pathetically. Even if the Champions were allowed to attack each other, it still seemed unfair that Delacour would go out in such a lame way.
“Looks like the task is nearly over anyways, so we can talk more about it afterwards.” Susan spoke. “That said, I’m sure Harry and Malenia will be having an… awkward conversation about all this.”
Millicent only grimaced and nodded in response, not looking very enthused at the thought.
Surprisingly, it was Diggory who found the end of the maze first with the viewer following him, yet the Hufflepuff idiot wasn’t alone. Harry also appeared at the same time, the two Champions looking over the cup as they began arguing about who should take it.
Just reach out and grab it! Daphne internally raged as Harry told Cedric Diggory to take the cup for the umpteenth time, insisting that the Hufflepuff was the true Hogwarts Champion. Of course, the crowd ate all of it up, the girls cooing while the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor sections cheered happily.
Hogwarts had won the tournament after all, and in the end the two decided to take the cup together. That was when the cheers became deafening, and even the Slytherin students were clapping along happily.
Disappearing through the cup’s portkey, everyone expected Diggory and Potter to appear right in front of the stands on the victor’s podium. Yet as the cheers went on and eventually died out as nothing happened, Daphne found herself beginning to panic as her lover never appeared like he was supposed to.
////
“…blood …forcibly taken…”
“…Resurrect …your foe…”
“…Foolish boy.”
His eyes groggily opened. Or rather, half-opened, his vision fuzzy as he slowly regained his senses.
The first thing he processed was an overcast and dreary landscape, an overgrown old graveyard that stretched in all directions around him with a large manor to his right, and a small muggle village far in the distance to his left.
The next thing Harry noticed was that he was restrained against an old stone statue, his arm bleeding as it lay limply at his side. Not far from his immobile spot, the triwizard cup sat in the grass, with Cedric Diggory’s unmoving form laying adjacent to it.
What happened? He remembered arguing with Cedric over who should take the trophy, until the two of them agreed to take it together. The next thing he knew… Somehow he had ended up here. Must’ve been a trapped portkey, and both of us were sent here and knocked out when we took the cup.
It was screams that finally alerted him that he wasn’t alone, as Harry looked up and across the clearing to see a startling sight.
“Master!” A man in dark robes shrieked, kneeling on the ground. “Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!”
The subservient man was surrounded by similarly dressed men in dark robes, and it was only then that Harry realized all of them were Death Eaters. He had seen them briefly at the Quidditch World Cup last summer, terrorizing muggles, witches, and wizards alike.
But it was the intimidating serpentine man with red eyes standing in front of them all that truly stole his attention. He didn’t need a name tag or someone to announce who that specific man was, as his identity was already burned into Harry’s very soul.
Voldemort only laughed at his follower begged for forgiveness. “Crucio!”
The Death Eater on the ground writhed and shrieked in response.
Voldemort raised his wand as the tortured Death Eater lay flat upon the ground, gasping for breath. “Get up, Avery.”
This cannot be happening. His brain was trying and failing to process the sight in front of him, being that his parents’ murder was somehow alive and well. Yet the more he looked, the more he began to accept reality, which was only helped along with the various surrounding items nearby which were likely used in a dark ritual to resurrect Britain’s worst dark lord.
“I look at all of you, and I am disappointed.” Voldemort began to speak to his followers as Harry silently watched on. “Each of you has spent these years chasing after your own comforts. Whether it be your standing, your useless pleasures, or your petty priorities. Macnair, who spent his time killing animals for the Ministry. Lucius, who only cared about building his wealth and status and sucking up to those in power.”
“M-Master…” Draco Malfoy’s father whimpered, and Harry felt a small amount of amusement.
“Useless.” The man snapped coldly in response, before his tone changed. Voldemort slowly turned to face Harry in that moment, somehow knowing he was awake. “But there is one of you who has bided their time wisely, who did not grow weak and feeble as the rest of you did. And that man is Harry Potter.”
“Voldemort.” He ground out in response, seeing his parents’ murderer alive and well after all these years.
The Dark Lord only smirked, his teeth looking akin to fangs as he studied Harry briefly. “Is this boy the reason you did not seek me out, followers of mine? Was it the fear of his power? Or perhaps it was that old fool, Dumbledore, who scared you into submission?”
“No/Never!” The surrounding Death Eaters exclaimed in response, clearly motivated by fear.
“How foolish it was to think that this boy could ever be stronger than me.” Voldemort declared. “But I want there to be no mistake after tonight, that it was mere lucky chance that Harry Potter survived me before. And I am going to prove that here and now by killing him, doing so when there is no Dumbledore to help him, and no mother to die for him. I will give him his chance. He will be allowed to fight, and you will be left in no doubt which of us is the strongest. Now untie him, Wormtail, and give him back his wand.”
Harry had been so focused on the Dark Lord that he hadn’t noticed Pettigrew up until that point, and he glared at his parents’ betrayer with pure hatred. The rat-faced bastard squeaked in fright, hastily undoing his bindings before throwing his wand over to him on the ground.
He silently took it, standing up with his wand in hand. Across from him, the Dark Lord watched him with keen interest.
“Do you know how to duel, Harry?” His parents murderer asked him.
He didn’t respond, but the Dark Lord didn’t seem to care anyways.
“First, you bow. So bow down to Lord Voldemort, Harry Potter.” Voldemort grinned cruelly at his demand. “Bow down to death.”
Harry didn’t move, and the Dark Lord pointed his wand at him while transfiguring the air behind him to become heavier. Even with the increased weight on his back, he didn’t bow, no matter how much it hurt to resist.
“Did you really just bring me here to fight?” He asked instead, bearing through the pain until his opponent stopped.
“You are here,” Voldemort answered after a moment. “Because I required your blood for my resurrection. The tournament provided an elegant mechanism for acquiring you without having to breach Hogwarts’ wards directly. And you are only alive right now because I have decided that killing you immediately would be a waste of an interesting evening.”
“So what, you kill me tonight, then go on to kill Dumbledore in the future, and eventually take over the Ministry?” He asked with more calm than he probably should’ve felt. “Then what? Just take over Fudge’s post and kill all the muggleborns and what not? Is there an end goal to all this?”
“Power, Harry Potter. Power is the end goal.” Voldemort smirked, taking up the chance Harry offered to monologue. “A world where wizards are at the top, everything else arranged appropriately beneath. A world that reflects the actual hierarchy of power rather than apologizing and groveling for it. No longer will that old fool and his blood-traitors continue to dismantle of the current order of the world. Dumbledore’s tolerance and the Ministry’s compromises and the exhausting fiction that wizards and Muggles can exist in productive proximity are nothing but a detriment to our society, a nuisance that holds us back from greatness.”
He felt a sickly feeling emerge from his stomach as the madman spoke, seeing that he truly believed every word for it. “A world built upon blood and fear? Is that it then, where you rule over all?”
The Dark Lord laughed. “The strong always rule, Harry Potter.”
“True.” His simple agreement made Voldemort immediately stop laughing. “The strong are strong unto the end, and it is them who decides how the world runs.”
It was the truth in both this world and in the Lands Between. Even with Malenia and Miquella trying to change things with the Haligtree, it was still the hard truth. The Carian Royals, the Golden Lineage, along with all of the other demigods would rule and shape those lands till the end of time.
And it was the same here, as Dumbledore was powerful and controlled Hogwarts, influencing entire generations of students to follow his mindset. And Voldemort - despite being a madman and mass-murderer - still had followers willing to commit atrocities in his name.
“Fascinating, you truly are different from what I originally thought. Perhaps there was some truth to those articles about Dumbledore turning on you.” The Dark Lord seemed to have a modicum of respect for him in that moment, almost like he was moments away from asking Harry to join his cause. But to Harry, that last thought alone made him feel even more disgusted with the wizard in front of him.
“And you are nothing but some up-jumped pillager with stupid delusions of ambition.” He shot back, making Voldemort snarl. “You use fear to gain followers, all while calling yourself a Lord, and yet you hold no titles, no lands, and no achievements. You have no right to anything this world has to offer, Tom.”
“You dare?!” The Dark Lord was furious, and it seemed Harry had finally pushed him over the edge.
Before he could blink, half a dozen spells were already launched his way. It was only thanks to the past few months of fighting that he was able to dodge in time, bringing up his wand as he and the Dark Lord began their violent duel.
Disclaimer: All Characters are over the Age of 18