Y/n pov
It's the final task today.
The task no one can watch them in.
The task anyone could die in.
The task that determines the champion.
The task anyone could get hurt,lose there wand, and get stuck in.
The task that determines their futures.
The task everything has come down to.
The task all those nights studying spells and helping harry are coming into play.
The task harry could die in.
The task fluer could die in.
The task they could get seriously hurt in.
The task-
"Y/n." Hermione says snapping her fingers in front of my face.
"Huh." I say.
"Your staring at Ron." Hermione says.
(Let me just. Changes title to Ron Weasley X reader.)
"I'm not I'm looking at the wall behind him." I say.
"What's on your mind y/n?" Harry asks
"Nothing." I lie.
"Come on y/n I can tell your lying. What's up." Harry says.
"I said nothing." I say snapping at him.
He looks taken back at my sudden out burst.
"Sorry harry I'm just worried about fluer." I say.
"Oh so your not worried about me." Harry says.
"No not really I know you are prepared but I don't know about fluer." I say.
"So I could die in the maze and you wouldn't care." Harry says.
"Well I would care but not as much if fluer dies." I lie.
"Good to know." Harry says.
"They are so in love." Ron says.
Harry and I both turn to him. Just as I was going to say something the post owls appeared.
One stopped by Harry. It is a good-luck card from Sirius. It was only a piece of parchment, folded over and bearing a muddy paw print on its front.
A screech owl arrived for Hermione, carrying her morning copy of the Daily Prophet as usual. She unfolded the paper, glanced at the front page, and spat out a mouthful of pumpkin juice all over it.
"What?" Harry ,Ron, and I say
"Nothing," says Hermione quickly, trying to shove the paper out of sight, but Ron grabbed it.
He stared at the headline and said, "No way. Not today. That old cow."
"What?" Asks Harry.
"Rita Skeeter again?" I say.
"No," said Ron, and just like Hermione, he attempted to push the paper out of sight.
"It's about me, isn't it?" says Harry.
"No," said Ron, in an entirely unconvincing tone.
Draco Malfoy shouts across the Great Hall from the Slytherin table.
"Hey, Potter! Potter! How's your head? You feeling all right? Sure you're not going to go berserk on us?"
Malfoy was holding a copy of the Daily Prophet too. Slytherins up and down the table were sniggering, twisting in their seats to see Harry's reaction.
"Let me see it," Harry says to Ron.
"Give it here." I say grabbing the paper.
I open it.
I see picture of harry, beneath the banner headline:
"HARRY POTTER"
"DISTURBED AND DANGEROUS"
The boy who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is unstable and possibly dangerous, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Alarming evidence has recently come to light about Harry Potter's strange behavior, which casts doubts upon his suitability to compete in a demanding competition like the Triwizard Tournament, or even to attend Hogwarts School.
Potter, the Daily Prophet can exclusively reveal, regularly collapses at school, and is often heard to complain of pain in the scar on his forehead (relic of the curse with which You-Know-Who attempted to kill him). On Monday last, midway through a Divination lesson, your Daily Prophet reporter witnessed Potter storming from the class, claiming that his scar was hurting too badly to continue studying.
It is possible, say top experts at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, that Potters brain was affected by the attack inflicted upon him by You-Know-Who, and that his insistence that the scar is still hurting is an expression of his deep-seated confusion.
"He might even be pretending," said one specialist. "This could be a plea for attention."
The Daily Prophet, however, has unearthed worrying facts about Harry Potter that Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, has carefully concealed from the wizarding public.
"Potter can speak Parseltongue," reveals Draco Malfoy, a Hogwarts fourth year. "There were a lot of attacks on students a couple of years ago, and most people thought Potter was behind them after they saw him lose his temper at a dueling club and set a snake on another boy. It was all hushed up, though. But he's made friends with werewolves and giants too. We think he'd do anything for a bit of power."
Parseltongue, the ability to converse with snakes, has long been considered a Dark Art. Indeed, the most famous Parselmouth of our times is none other than You-Know-Who himself. A member of the Dark Force Defense League, who wished to remain unnamed, stated that he would regard any wizard who could speak Parseltongue "as worthy of investigation. Personally, I would be highly suspicious of anybody who could converse with snakes, as serpents are often used in the worst kinds of Dark Magic, and are historically associated with evildoers." Similarly, "anyone who seeks out the company of such vicious creatures as werewolves and giants would appear to have a fondness for violence."
Albus Dumbledore should surely consider whether a boy such as this should be allowed to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. Some fear that Potter might resort to the Dark Arts in his desperation to win the tournament, the third task of which takes place this evening.
"She did not." I say.
"Give it to me." Harry says.
He grabs the paper and reads it.
"Gone off me a bit, hasn't she?" says Harry lightly, folding up the paper.
Over at the Slytherin table, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were laughing at him, tapping their heads with their fingers, pulling grotesquely mad faces, and waggling their tongues like snakes.
"You know I wish I threw a dungboom at draco last year." I say.
How did she know your scar hurt in Divination?" Ron says. "There's no way she was there, there's no way she could've heard -"
"The window was open," says Harry. "I opened it to breathe."
"You were at the top of North Tower!" Hermione says.
"Your voice couldn't have carried all the way down to the grounds!" I say.
"Well, you're the one who's supposed to be researching magical methods of bugging!" says Harry. "You tell me how she did it!"
"I've been trying!" says Hermione. "But I...but..."
An odd, dreamy expression suddenly came over Hermione's face. She slowly raised a hand and ran her fingers through her hair.
"Are you all right?" sayd Ron, frowning at her.
"Yes," said Hermione breathlessly. She ran her fingers through her hair again, and then held her hand up to her mouth, as though speaking into an invisible walkie-talkie. Harry and Ron stared at each other.
"I've had an idea," Hermione says gazing into space. "I think I know...because then no one would be able to see...even Moody...and she'd have been able to get onto the window ledge...but she's not allowed...she's definitely not allowed...I think we've got her! Just give me two seconds in the library - just to make sure!"
With that, Hermione seized her school bag and dashed out of the Great Hall.
"Oi!" Ron calls after her. "We've got our History of Magic exam in ten minutes! Blimey," he said.
"she must really hate that Skeeter woman to risk missing the start of an exam. What're you going to do in Binns's class - read again?" I ask.
Exempt from the end-of-term tests as a Triwizard champion, Harry had been sitting in the back of every exam class so far, looking up fresh hexes for the third task.
"S'pose so," Harry says but just then grandma came walking alongside the Gryffindor table toward him.
"Potter, the champions are congregating in the chamber off the Hall after breakfast," she says.
"But the task's not till tonight!" says Harry, accidentally spilling scrambled eggs down his front.
I giggle and he glares at me.
"I'm aware of that, Potter," she says. "The champions' families are invited to watch the final task, you know. This is simply a chance for you to greet them."
She moved away. Harry gaped after her.
"She doesn't expect the Dursleys to turn up, does she?" he asks Ron.
"Dunno probably not." I say.
"Y/n, we better hurry, we going to be late for Binns. See you later." Ron adds to harry.
Ron and I race out of the great hall and off professor binns class.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
"Mrs Weasley bill hi." I say sitting down next to harry.
"Mum - Bill!" says Ron, looking stunned, as he joined the Gryffindor table. "What're you doing here?"
"Come to watch Harry in the last task!" says Mrs. Weasley brightly. "I must say, it makes a lovely change, not having to cook. How was your exam?"
"Oh...okay," saysRon. "Couldn't remember all the goblin rebels' names, so I invented a few. It's all right," he said, helping himself to a Cornish pasty, while Mrs. Weasley looked stern, "they're all called stuff like Bodrod the Bearded and Urg the Unclean; it wasn't hard."
"Really Ronald." I say.
"Sorry I'm not as smart as you and Hermione." Ron says rolling his eyes.
Fred, George, and Ginny came to sit next to them too. Hermione joins us halfway through lunch.
"Are you going to tell us -?"
Hermione shakes her head warningly and glanced at Mrs. Weasley.
-_-_-_-_-
Harry didn't eat much. As the enchanted ceiling overhead began to fade from blue to a dusky purple, Dumbledore rose to his feet at the staff table, and silence fell.
"Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now."
Harry got up. The Gryffindors all along the table were applauding him.
"If he dies I'm going to kill him." I say.
"Logic has left." Ron says.
-_-_-_-
Five minutes later the stands had begun to fill the air was full of excited voices and the rumbling of feet as the hundreds of students filed into their seats. The sky was a deep, clear blue now, and the first stars were starting to appear.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, with eighty-five points each - Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School!" The cheers and applause sent birds from the Forbidden Forest fluttering into the darkening sky. "In second place, with eighty points - Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!" More applause. "And in third place - Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!" Professor Dumbledore says.
Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Ron, and Hermione applauding Fleur politely. I clap for her and yell "Go fluer!". Harry waves up at us and we waved back.
"So...on my whistle, Harry and Cedric!" says Bagman. "Three - two - one -"
He gave a short blast on his whistle, and Harry and Cedric hurried forward into the maze.
A couple minutes later krum goes in. Then fluer.
"Ok now what." I say.
"Now we wait." Hermione says.
I sigh and lay my head on Ron's shoulder.
"Gonna try and sleep." Ron says.
"Yep." I say.
Hours pass and nothing happens. Then red Sparks appears. Everyone seemed tense as the teachers rush in to find who ever sent the sparks. I start to worry what if Harry's hurt. What about fluer.
The teacher carry someone back. She's unconscious. It's fluer.
"I'll be back I have to check on fluer." I tell Ron.
I rush down the stairs and into where they took fluer.
"Will she be ok?" I ask.
"Yes she will." Madam pomfre says.
Fluer wakes up as another red spark flys up. Fluer and I hug then she goes back to madam maxime and I go back to Ron and Hermione.
An unconscious krum is carried out of the maze that means only Cedric and harry are left.
Another hour passes. Then harry appears. The band starts playing. I could tell something is wrong. Fluer let's put a loud high pitch scream.
Dumbledore runs up to harry. Amos Diggory pushes through the crowd. Then I see him. Cedric. He's dead. No more warm smile.
I rush down to grandma Minnie's side. I see moody taking harry into the castle.
"Albus moody." Grandma says.
Dumbledore looks up.
"Get Severus let's go." Dumbledore says.
"Stay here y/n." Grandma says.
Her, Dumbledore, and Snape run into the castle.
A/n
Ik the end seems rushed but I got tested for covid today. Please let it be negative. Online school is so confusing.
Au revoir ❤️