CH 125

Diggory staggered, his mouth opened and close several times, but nothing came out.

'Harry?' he questioned, staring about him in utter confusion.

'Stupefy,' Harry replied, and Cedric dropped heavily to the ground leaving him standing over the other champions.

I've won, he realised, surveying the scene. It didn't feel like he had won. There was a hidden hand at work here, someone had done this, guided all the champions together except him. That meant either they were the targets, or he was. Harry knew well enough how this worked to know which was likely to be true. Riddle.

The goal of Voldemort's scheme was a mystery to him, but he knew he couldn't leave things like this. As things stood, two Unforgivables had been used, Cedric would have no memory of casting them, and Harry had benefitted most from their effects. An accusation would not stand up to scrutiny, his memories, Fleur's and their wands would provide evidence to exonerate him.

It will condemn Cedric.

Harry was certain the Hufflepuff was no more than the tool used to achieve Voldemort's ends in the tournament, so he couldn't leave him to be sent to Azkaban like Sirius was.

He bent down and picked up Cedric's wand, twirling it in his fingers as he thought. Someone was waiting for their pawn to accomplish their ends. Cedric was meant to be blamed and needed to be alive to confess and seamlessly take the blame. Fleur was expendable to Voldemort, or his servant, whoever it was this time, and he didn't have the strength to take both Cedric and Fleur with him.

I can't leave her behind.

Harry knew without a doubt that even if he had just come across her on the floor he would have not been able to leave her, not even after shooting up red sparks for her rescue, just in case something did happen in the moment after he left and they came.

He raised Diggory's wand high in the air and shot a bright burst of red sparks up into the air. Someone would come and deal with Cedric and Viktor, he hoped it was Dumbledore, or someone good. Dipping his head in final farewell to Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian had earned his respect, he twirled Cedric's wand one final time then snapped it and dropped the pieces beside the Hogwarts champion. He would have no memory of what he did, and there would be no evidence to pin him to it without his wand's evidence. The Hufflepuff did not need to live with the knowledge of what he had been forced to do.

Harry bent down, slipped the rosewood wand back into her belt, and gently scooped Fleur into his arms, cradling her against his chest with his left arm and keeping his right free to use his wand.

There was no time for following the paths of this maze. Fleur needed the task to end quickly, she would need medical attention and he was very sick of this tournament and the game someone was playing in the shadow of it. A rippling wave of fiendfyre consumed the hedges in front him for a hundred metres then died away to nothing. Harry fell to one knee from the strain of controlling and dispelling it.

It will end soon, he told himself.

There hardly seemed much more that could go wrong, but Harry dare not think that aloud, not with Voldemort looming over events.

A single ring of hedge remained on the far side of the field of ashes and embers that Harry had created. The only gap in it was guarded by a sphinx. It was watching him with some amusement and curiosity.

'I'd like to go through,' Harry told it as he approached, the hot ashes swirling about his feet. The hedges had not burnt in his flames which meant they were very well warded indeed, there were few things capable of surviving fiendfyre, even the relatively weak version of Harry's second casting.

'I can see that,' it laughed, in a beautiful, female voice. 'You still have to answer the riddle, or you can try to force your way through.'

Harry suspected trying to fight a sphinx would be a very bad idea when he was fresh and not holding an unconscious Fleur Delacour, let alone now.

'The riddle,' he decided.

'The man who built it, doesn't want it. The man who bought it, doesn't need it. The man who needs it, doesn't know it. What is it?' The sphinx's enigmatic smile seemed to darken into something slightly morbid.

'How many guesses do I get?' Harry asked warily. 'A good question to ask,' the sphinx told him, its smile widening. 'Normally, if we met by chance, you would only have three, but since I came here especially to test Salazar's descendant,' Harry felt the sinking feeling return, 'you only get one. I hope you don't disappoint me.'

'So do I,' Harry laughed weakly.

If I die, Fleur is vulnerable.

'If you don't mind,' he warned the sphinx, 'just in case I do disappoint.'

Harry placed the tip of his wand on Fleur's forehead and cast Salazar's favourite protective curse on her skin. He was not so skilled with it as Slytherin had been, it would fade in a few hours, but while it lasted anyone that tried to touch her while intending harm would wither and likely die, including the sphinx. For good measure he disillusioned her too. If someone came searching for Fleur, they would still find her eventually, but Harry suspected that anyone intending harm would be looking for him.

'I'm sorry,' he apologised to the creature's unnatural symmetrical features, 'I seem to have forgotten the riddle while casting that.'

'The man who built it, doesn't want it. The man who bought it, doesn't need it. The man who needs it, doesn't know it. What is it?' The sphinx shifted impatiently and Harry received the impression he was running out of time in which to avoid disappointing it and presumably dying.

What do we make that we don't want?

There were so many things that they made and didn't want. 'I don't suppose you give hints?'

The sphinx smiled more widely and shook its head.

I have no idea, Harry realised. I'm going to die, sent to my coffin by a sphinx. Voldemort will be furious.

Suddenly the answer was there, in his head and he almost gasped with relief.

'A coffin,' he answered confidently.

There was a splitting pain in his temples, and Harry clapped his free hand to his face.

I was wrong?

'No,' the sphinx answered. 'I was just curious.'

'Legilimency,' Harry realised.

'Indeed,' the sphinx responded, leaning to one side to let him pass. 'I will enjoy watching what happens to you, Harry Potter, Heir of Slytherin. For answering my riddle correctly, you may pass, for passing my test I offer this, a second riddle, of sorts, that might help end a third. When is a key, not just a key? And when is a bond, not just a bond?'

Harry blinked, committing the words to memory. He had no idea what they meant, but it seemed unwise to forget anything a creature like a sphinx offered in assistance.

Rebalancing Fleur in his arms he squeezed past the creature's flank into the ring of hedges.

The Triwizard cup gleamed silver not five metres away from him, and nothing lay in between him and it. Now he had won.

Harry walked, very carefully and warily, towards the cup. He was inside whatever wards protected the centre of the maze, but Voldemort or his follower was still out there somewhere and Harry still had to take the cup all the way back to the start of the maze.

Very gently he set Fleur down on the ground next to the plinth. He couldn't carry them both as tired as he was, but he could travel faster with just the cup, end the task, and send help straight to where she was. He was proud that it was genuinely his feelings for her that were responsible, her well-being blotted out all thoughts of victory until she was truly healed again. He didn't need the Room of Requirement to tell him what that meant, or any time to realise that he really needed to talk to her when she woke up. For now, however, he had to make sure the Fleur did wake up, and that she was healed when she did. Behind the wards she would be safe, especially with Harry's curse still guarding her, so he would have to leave her for a short time, even if it felt profoundly wrong to take the cup instead of her. He tucked his wand back up his sleeve and reached out with his right hand to take the trophy.