There were 13 paths for each contestant and hedges separating each one. There was a misty atmosphere and an all-around spooky feeling. Harry was at the seventh row and looking at the path before him as the crowds were cheering. Harry had tucked his wand safely in a wand-holster that they had issued. It was not the best but it would do, even though he probably didn't need it.
"The first five to retrieve the Golden Plaque shall move on the Last Task," he announced, standing on a platform overlooking the scene. As the crowd went wild, Harry watched the mist from the ground dance in an almost entrancing fashion, "All contestants will be monitored and watched by the audience to prevent permanent harm or death."
A few contestants had to shake themselves off, reminded that they might die. Of course, Harry didn't move a muscle and simply stood there with his hands behind his back with an almost creepy elegance.
"BEGIN!" a horn sounded and the contestants began to dash into their respective corridors-of-sorts. Harry began to run in between the twirling leaves of the hedges on either side of him, keeping his eyes peeled for whatever was to come.
He had been running for about 30 seconds before he came upon his first obstacle. It was not clear at first as his vision was obscured due to the fog clouding the sky; a rather smart minor touch to make it just a bit more difficult.
It had the body of an over-large lion: great clawed paws and a long yellowish tail ending in a brown tuft. Its head, however, was that of a woman. She turned her long, almond-shaped eyes upon Harry as he approached.
He got closer to the majestic Beast carefully. Not many knew that the Sphinxes were able to speak a language other than the Human tongue. They spoke Ancient Egyptian, Arabic and most were well-versed in English but they spoke another. The Language of the Sphinx. Harry had come across this language during a search of the Black Library and had taken an interest in it, like many others.
"O Majestic one," he began to speak to the sophisticated being in its ancient dialect. He heard sounds of confusion coming from the stands of those watching, "I request to pass."
"You dare speak the Ancient and Noble tongue of the Sphinx!" she practically roared in English. This was not how he expected it to go.
"O Noble Sphinx," he bowed, "I was simply intrigued to learn to Great language for it far surpasses the calibre of the Human." His attempt at flattery in English didn't go to waste as she was less tense than before.
"To pass you must solve a riddle," she went back to her original script.
"Please, oh Wise one, bestow upon me your wisdom and tell me of your no-doubt stumping enigma," he said respectfully in the Sphinx's tongue
"I am beginning to like you, Human," she answered in her dialect. Harry remained silent, not knowing what to say and not wanting to offend the creature.
She began her riddle in an entrancing tone that used so often.
"I look flat, but I am deep. Hidden realms I shelter. Lives I take, but the food I offer. At times I am beautiful. I can be calm, angry, and turbulent. I have no heart but offer pleasure as well as death. No man can own me, yet I encompass what all men must have. What am I?"
(Reader's Digest)
Harry thought for a moment I look flat but I am deep. The words of the poem floated around his head and he used his Occlumency to find a solution faster. He thought of things that held secrets deep within them and remembered a television show that he had once heard Aunt Petunia watching when there was nothing else on. A documentary about the hidden depths of the Ocean and the lives that it took so mercilessly away and found the answer.
"The Ocean," he stated confidently. The Sphinx bowed her head and moved aside making Harry smile, "Thank you O Wise one."
"I wish you good luck on your journey ahead, speaker," she smiled.
Harry rushed forward. He didn't want to waste any time.
He had been running fast, thanks to his habit of jogging every morning and he was sure that he was faster than any of the old men he knew that were participating in the challenge. He chuckled to himself lightly at how this had reminded him so much of the Triwizard Tournament, if his time-travel fiasco had been a book, the author must have been struggling to find ideas.
Soon enough, he came across a second obstacle. At first, it appeared as a mix of matter similar to the shape a Wizard took when apparating before forming into a man Harry didn't recognize.
"Tell them," he spoke with a voice rugged and throaty, "Tell them all who you are and where you are from." Harry immediately knew what he was talking about. He knew that it was a Boggart and that his greatest fear was... himself. He recognized the features; round glasses, lightning scar but he looked different, older, tired. He looked like the man that had gone to sleep and woke up here. Himself.
Confused noises and gasps were coming from the stands. Even though there were silencing charms cast over each path, Harry could easily overpower them. They knew he had a secret but everyone had secrets didn't they? Besides, the man there was practically unrecognizable, to the crowd... and Harry.
Harry waved his hand and performed the Riddikulus charm on it before it just dissipated. Harry marched on, not wanting to dwell on it. He ran for about five minutes more before he came across a little Mooncalf. He paid it no mind and continued, thinking about who thought it was a good idea to put a Mooncalf in a dangerous situation.
His thoughts came to an abrupt end he heard the soft rustling on the ground ahead. He cast a quick Lumos with his finger, cursing himself for not thinking of it before and soon, a beast came into view.
Upon first sight, it looked like a large majestic bird with a golden beak and piercing black eyes. He then registered the hind legs and the tail of a horse, the wings and head of an eagle. He saw the gleaming coat which changed from feather to hair seamlessly. It was a gleaming chestnut colour standing proudly.
Harry was reminded of his dear old friend Buckbeak and how he had rescued them from the Executioner. He was then reminded that the Beast was proud and that it would not appreciate how someone was just staring. Harry slowly approached the creature and bowed low. He waited patiently for the creature to make a move. To Harry's relief, it bowed back and he was free to pass. Even as a skilled and trained Wizard, those talons looked scary.
He ran over the now muddy floors, only hearing the squelching of mud below his feet and the occasional screech of a beast or Human that he tried to not let unnerve him. The last time he was in a situation like this, it did not end well. The last time, he was put under the Cruciatus as well as unwillingly took part in a ritual to revive a Dark Lord that he was now apparently acquaintances with. His life was confusing at times.
Throughout the challenge, he was faced with Creatures, Beasts and Beings of many types, from those that made him think and those who attacked him at first sight. He fought his way through without a scratch or bruise, the only thing that remotely showed that he was in this challenge was the muddy shoes that he wore. After all, he was Harry Potter.
As his feet were only just beginning to tire, he spotted it. The end of the path; a golden gleam shining through the ever-misty air.
He ran towards it, careful to make sure that there were no hidden traps or obstacles and when he found none, he reached for the Plaque he had worked so hard for.
The moment he touched the surface, he felt the familiar pull behind his navel...