LIGHT ME UP, ginny weasley.

By -roscoeee

27.9K 1.3K 373

Harry Potter | "if the sky falls, i'll catch it, just to steal you a star." ( oc x ginny weasley ) ( wolfstar... More

epigraph + playlist
A C T 1 . . . casts
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↳ ooooov
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↳ oxviii
↳ oooxix
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A C T 2 . . . casts
↳ oooooi
↳ ooooii
↳ oooiii
↳ oooooiv
↳ ooooov
↳ oooovi
↳ ooovii
↳ ooviii
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↳ ooxvii

579 36 2
By -roscoeee



🃏

SEVENTEEN

——THE SECOND TASK




       BLOODY HELL, MAYBE SHE SHOULDN'T HAVE SPENT SO MUCH TIME IN THE ROOM OF REQUIREMENT TRYING TO PRACTICE THE BUBBLE-HEAD CHARM.

       Sneaking down the stairs wasn't easy when someone could just pop up and she could fall to her death. Suddenly, just ahead, there was a thump, then a golden egg fell down the stairs out of nowhere bang as loud as a bass drum on every step—some sort of parchment flew as well near Effie.

       She furrowed her brows, "What the fuck," She muttered, rubbing her eyes. "Bloody hell, am I awake right now?"

       Effie drew close to it, grabbing the parchment hastily and tucked it under her cloak, alarmed at the footsteps now. The golden egg fell through the tapestry at the bottom of the staircase, burst open, and began wailing loudly in the corridor below.

      "PEEVES!" It was the unmistakable hunting cry of Filch the caretaker. Effie could hear his rapid, shuffling footsteps coming nearer and nearer, his wheezy voice raised in fury.

       A big, capital SHIT painted itself in her mind, and acted quickly, making a small flesh wound on her arm with diffindo and smeared the blood around to make it look worst, scurrying down the stairs and laid down, then feigned a loud wail of pain. "Peeves, you little—"

       "What's this racket? Wake up the whole castle, will you? I'll have you, Peeves, I'll have you, you'll. . . and what is this?" He first glanced at Effie— "Ah, student out of bed!"

       "I was in the library," She defends, forcing pain in her voice as she grabbed her arm. "Peeves pushed me down the stairs—" Filch picked up the egg and closed it.

       "Egg?" Filch said quietly at the foot of the stairs. "My sweet—!" Mrs. Norris was obviously with him "—This is a Triwizard clue! This belongs to a school champion!"

       "I am one of the champions, Mr. Filch," Effie said in annoyance. Bloody idiot didn't even try to see if she was okay, she thinks, rolling her eyes and pretended to struggle getting up. "It's mine."

"Filch? What's going on?" Filch stopped and turned. At the foot of the stairs stood the only person who could either help Effie, or not—Snape. He was wearing a long gray nightshirt and he looked livid.

"It's Peeves, Professor," Filch whispered malevolently. "He threw this egg down the stairs and pushed this student."

Snape's beady eyes turned to Effie, who was internally glad she faked the whole thing and nursed her arm. (Bloody hell, she should be an actress.) "Peeves?" Snape said softly, staring at the egg in Filch's hands. "But Peeves couldn't get into my office. . . "

"This egg was in your office, Professor?"

"I said it was mine, Filch!" Effie snapped again, before wincing for real this time.

"Of course not," Snape snapped. "I heard banging and wailing—"

"Yes, Professor, that was the egg—"

"The banging was me," Effie insisted, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "Haven't you heard a human fall down the stairs before?"

"—I was coming to investigate—"

"—Peeves threw them, Professor—"

"—and when I passed my office, I saw that the torches were lit and a cupboard door was ajar! Somebody has been searching it!"

"But Peeves couldn't—"

"I know he couldn't, Filch!" Snape snapped again. "I seal my office with a spell none but a wizard could break!" Snape looked up the stairs, and then down into the corridor below, at Effie. "What were you doing out this late, Stark?"

"I was in the library, professor," She says softly, gingerly pulling out the latest copy of his permit for her to get in the Restricted Section. Well, she was on her way to the library, so. . . "Trying to figure out what the egg could want. I was on my way back to the Slytherin dorm when Peeves pushed me down." For show, she brandished her wound.

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.

Snape stopped talking very abruptly. He, Effie, and Filch both looked down at the foot of the stairs. Mad-Eye Moody limped into sight through the narrow gap between their heads. Moody was wearing his old traveling cloak over his nightshirt and leaning on his staff as usual.

"Pajama party, is it?" he growled up the stairs.

"Professor Snape and I heard noises, Professor," Filch said at once. "Peeves the Poltergeist, throwing things around as usual, and victimizing students, and then Professor Snape discovered that someone had broken into his off—"

Effie inhaled for patience, kinda dying here, isn't anyone going to dismiss me to the hospital wing or. . . ? Wait—Wait, if Moody wasn't Moody, and someone ransacked Snape's office. . . then—then what if—

"Shut up!" Snape hissed to Filch.

"Did I hear that correctly, Snape?" Moody asked slowly. "Someone broke into your office?"

"It is unimportant," Snape said coldly.

"On the contrary," Moody growls, "it is very important. Who'd want to break into your office?"

"A student, I daresay," Snape said. Potter again, probably, Effie thinks. It's always been Potter. "It has happened before. Potion ingredients have gone missing from my private store cupboard. . . students attempting illicit mixtures, no doubt. . . "

"Reckon they were after potion ingredients, eh?" Moody said. "Not hiding anything else in your office, are you?"

"You know I'm hiding nothing, Moody," Snape said in a soft and dangerous voice, "as you've searched my office pretty thoroughly yourself."

Moody's face twisted into a smile. Effie resisted a cold shiver at the creepy sight—surprisingly, she felt safer with the Potions professor than this. . . this impostor. "Auror's privilege, Snape. Dumbledore told me to keep an eye—"

"Dumbledore happens to trust me," Snape said through clenched teeth. "I refuse to believe that he gave you orders to search my office!"

"'Course Dumbledore trusts you," Moody growled. "He's a trusting man, isn't he? Believes in second chances. But me—I say there are spots that don't come off, Snape. Spots that never come off, d'you know what I mean?"

Snape suddenly did something very strange. He seized his left forearm convulsively with his right hand, as though something on it had hurt him. Effie's eyes widened a fraction, she knows what that is.

Moody laughed. "Get back to bed, Snape."

"You don't have the authority to send me anywhere!" Snape hissed, letting go of his arm as though angry with himself. "I have as much right to prowl this school after dark as you do!"

"Prowl away," Moody said, but his voice was full of menace. "I look forward to meeting you in a dark corridor some time. . . You should send Stark to the hospital wing soon, looks like she might past out."

About time, she thought as attention was thrusted back to her. "The egg is yours, Stark?" Snape said, barely controlled fury boiling from the spat with Moody. Effie managed a meek nod. "Give it back, Filch."

"No!" Filch said, clutching the egg as though it were his firstborn son. "Professors, this is evidence of Peeves' treachery!"

"For the last time," Effie breathes out. "He pushed me, and it slipped!"

"It's the property of the champion standing here," Moody said, gesturing to Effie. "Hand it over, now."

Snape swept downstairs and passed Moody without another word. Filch made a chirruping noise to Mrs. Norris, who stared blankly at the empty spot of the source of trouble for a few more seconds before turning and following her master. Filch handed Effie the egg and disappeared from view too, muttering to Mrs. Norris. "Never mind, my sweet. . . we'll see Dumbledore in the morning. . . tell him what Peeves was up to. . . "

"Close shave, Potter," Moody growls, hauling Effie up by the arm. "Nice acting, Stark."

Effie did a mock bow, stowing the creeping suspicion away. Potter threw his cloak off, and Effie gave him a bewildered glance. "I almost broke my neck, for you?"

Potter glanced at her sheepishly, before rolling his eyes. "Give me a break, Effie. I'm stuck, you just lied down at the bottom of the stairs."

"Fair point, episkey," Effie waved him off, climbing the stairs after Moody.

"Er—Professor Moody, d'you think you could help me—?"

"What? Oh! Yes. . . yes, of course. . . " Moody took hold of Potter's arms and pulled—Potter's leg came free of the trick step, and he climbed onto the one above it. "Go to sleep, children." Then he walked away, muttering how he was too old for this.

"Potter," Effie whispers once he's out of hearing range. She took the map out of her cloak, handing back the egg. "What is this?"

"The Map of Hogwarts," Potter whispers back. Effie furrowed her brows, looking back at the map. Names appeared on it—there was Draco and Astoria, in Slytherin's common room, Ginny in the Gryffindor common room, even Snape, who was pacing in his office.

"You didn't happen, by any chance, to see who broke into Snape's office, did you? On this map, I mean," Effie whispers.

"Er. . . yeah, I did. . . " Potter admitted. "It was Mr. Crouch."

Effie's head snapped towards him, Crouch? But he hadn't been seen. . . "Are you sure?"

"The Map doesn't lie, Effie," Potter told her. "Professor Lupin is Moony—"

"Prongs is your dad, Padfoot is Sirius, Wormtail is Pettigrew," Effie finished. "I'm well-informed, Potter, given that I was there every time shit happens around you and your friends."

First Year, Effie's entire leg got broken by the Troll (she'd been comforting Granger in the bathroom with dry humor that time), Second Year, she got paralyzed (she was in the library with Granger), Third Year, she nearly got mauled when she tried helping Ronald.

Weird thing was, Crouch's name wasn't on the map. "You—You believe me, right? I did see it—"

"I believe you," She tells him honestly. "But what could he want in Snape's office?"

"I don't know," Potter muttered, "odd stuff's been happening lately, hasn't it? It's been in the Daily Prophet. . . the Dark Mark at the World Cup, and the Death Eaters and everything. . . "

Effie felt like she could breathe freely as she took a puff of her inhaler, so she wasn't the only one who's suspicious. "It's back!"

Crouch's name appeared again. Effie's eyes set on it—what the hell was Crouch doing in Moody's office? Unless. . . "Potter," She says slowly. "Is there any chance I could come with you to your common room, and show this to Ginny?"

Conveniently, Draco and Astoria are still in the common room. "Pansy wouldn't believe me when I tell her Draco's interested in Astoria, so I was thinking, if Ginny were to see this, and offered a second opinion, Pansy would finally stop pining over that ferret."

"I—okay," Potter nodded instantly. "Thanks for that back there. Are we friends now?"

Effie rolled her eyes, smirking. "Sure then, Potter. But we should hurry. You see, Pansy deserves better, not some. . . some egotistical, obsolete boy who constantly undermines her worth."

Potter allowed a small chuckle. "I owe you twice now—for the egg, and saving my arse minutes ago."

"Technically, the latter doesn't count," Effie countered as they arrived at the Gryffindor common room. "It would've also been me, in trouble. A lot of people owes me favors as well, so. . . " She smirked. "Comes in handy, too. Don't need blackmail, you know?"

"And Bagman?" Potter raised an eyebrow.

"Foul play," Effie answers smoothly, before smiling once Ginny looked up at them. "Ginny, I need to show you something."

Like clockwork, Ginny spotted Crouch's name, still in Moody's office (they shared a discreet look)—although they went with Effie's subtle cover, Draco and Astoria.


PANSY WAS NOWHERE TO BE FOUND THE NEXT DAY, MUCH TO EFFIE'S WORRY. Her eyes were a bit bloodshot, and her hands were shaking—they could be classed off as nervousness, but really, it was the amphetamines and sleep deprivation again.

The Slytherins were cheering extra loud as Effie stood with the other champions—with exception of Potter, who was nowhere to be found. "Have you seen him?" Cedric glanced at her.

Effie shook her head, searching the stands again for Pansy subconsciously. Nothing. Ginny cheers loudly when Effie caught her gaze, the blonde couldn't resist the smile, but it looked like she was smiling at the Slytherins instead.

"I'm. . . here. . . " Potter panted, skidding to a halt in the mud and accidentally splattering Fleur's robes.

"Where have you been?" The bossy, disapproving voice of Ginny's brother, Percy, said. "The task's about to start!"

"Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One. . . two. . . three!"

The whistle echoed shrilly in the cold, still air—the stands erupted with cheers and applause. Effie was bolting halfway through three, quickly uttering a warming charm and the bubble head charm, and jumped in through the waters gracefully.

She knew she'll be fine because swimming was good for her asthma, but she had to be quick before the bubble-head pops because magic doesn't work here. Now, to find the damned treasure, she thinks, swimming fast and cutting through the water like a knife. Effie tucked her knife in a seam on her spandex shorts, using her hands and legs to propel herself.

Silence pressed upon her ears as she soared over a strange, dark, foggy landscape. Effie could only see ten feet around her, so that as she sped through the water new scenes seemed to loom suddenly out of the oncoming darkness—forests of rippling, tangled black weed, wide plains of mud littered with dull, glimmering stones.

Effie swam deeper and deeper, out toward the middle of the lake, her eyes wide, staring through the eerily gray-lit water around her to the shadows beyond, where the water became opaque.

Small fish flickered past her like silver darts. Once or twice she thought she saw something larger moving ahead of her, but when Effie got nearer, she discovered it to be nothing but a large, blackened log, or a dense clump of weed.

Effie clicked her tongue, swimming upwards because that's where grindylows lurked. She doesn't have time fending them off. She swam faster, squinting until she hears that damned mersong.

"An hour long you'll have to look, and to recover what we took. . . "

She saw a large rock emerge out of the muddy water ahead. It had paintings of merpeople on it—they were carrying spears and chasing what looked like the giant squid. Effie swam on past the rock, following the mersong.

". . . your time's half gone, so tarry not lest what you seek stays here to rot. . . "

A cluster of crude stone dwellings stained with algae loomed suddenly out of the gloom on all sides. The merpeople had grayish skin and long, wild, dark green hair. Their eyes were yellow, as were their broken teeth, and they wore thick ropes of pebbles around their necks.

Where the hell was it? She wondered, glancing around as she swam.

A whole crowd of merpeople was floating in front of the houses that lined what looked like a mer-version of a village square. A choir of merpeople was singing in the middle, calling the champions toward them, and behind them rose a crude sort of statue—a gigantic merperson hewn from a boulder. Five people were bound tightly to the tail of the stone merperson.

Effie assumed five for each of the champions. Ronald and Pansy were tied between Granger and Cho Chang. There was also a girl who looked no older than eight, whose clouds of silvery hair made Effie feel sure that she was Fleur Delacour's sister. All five of them appeared to be in a very deep sleep. Their heads were lolling onto their shoulders, and fine streams of bubbles kept issuing from their mouths.

Effie zoomed towards Pansy hurriedly—she didn't have time to gawk, she has a competition to win, after all. Effie grabbed her wand, pointed at the binds tying Pansy down. "Diffindo." She was reminded of her nightmare involving Pansy, and suppressed a whimper, however, the memory caused her to rush.

Immediately, Pansy came loose. She floated into Effie's arms. Effie grabbed her around the waist, swimming upwards just as Potter arrived. No doubt he'd be trying to save all of them again. Effie hurried up, passing by Cedric, Krum not far behind. Fleur wasn't anywhere to be seen.

Once their heads broke the surface, Effie's bubble-head popped, and Pansy awoke with a gasp. What the hell were the teachers thinking? What if the hostages actually drowned? What if

"Holy shit, Effie, you're first!" Pansy squealed.

"I noticed," Effie says, hiding how shaken she was as she glanced at Pansy. "But we need to get out of the water. It's getting. . . cold. . . "

The crowd in the stands was making a great deal of noise—shouting and screaming, they all seemed to be on their feet. "Our fifth champion, Lillian Stark! Good lord, that was quick!"

Effie noticed her dad waiting anxiously at the bank as she and Pansy drew closer. Her chest was getting heavy, and soon enough, Effie was coughing. Pansy seized her arm, "She can't breathe!"

Madam Pomfrey, and Eleazar hurried to them, pulling both girls out of the water. Eleazar shoved an inhaler in Effie's hand as Madam Pomfrey draped blankets over the two girls, muttering under her breath how this shouldn't be allowed.

Effie's lungs loosened in relief once she took a puff of the inhaler, greedily taking sharp gulps of air. Eleazar draped Effie's scarf around her and Pansy, radiating warmth instantly.

"You're both alright?" Eleazar looked at them anxiously.

"We're fine, dad," Effie assured him as Pansy stuck to Effie's side. Eleazar's upper lip curled in a scowl, hating how dangerous this was.

Ginny threw her arms around Effie, "Oh my god," She gasps. "You're okay—merlin, what were they thinking? Making you go through that?"

Pansy scoffs, "Yes, alright. I just got out of the shower, thank you."

"Oh you'll live, Pansy," Ginny rolled her eyes playfully, but was also relieved that she's fine.

Fleur arrived first, without her treasure. She was hysterical, cuts all over her face, and her robes torn but she didn't seem to care as she fought tooth and nail to try and get back in the water. Cedric and Cho arrived next, then Krum and Granger. Lastly was Potter, Ronald, and the small girl—Fleur's sister.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows. . . "

"Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points."

"I deserved zero," Fleur croaked gloomily, shaking her head.

"Lillian Stark—" Effie winced at the name. "—showing magnificent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, is the first to return with her hostage well within the limit of an hour," Loud cheers erupted from Slytherins, Eleazar wore a large grin. "We therefore award her forty-nine points."

Pansy and Ginny both squealed along with the Slytherins, jumping up and down with their arms around the tired blonde. "You're in first place! Again!"

"Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour," Enormous cheers from the Hufflepuffs in the crowd. "We therefore award him forty-seven points."

"Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points."

Karkaroff clapped particularly hard, looking very superior. Eleazar scoffs quietly.

"Harry Potter used gillyweed to great effect," Bagman continued. "He returned last, and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Merchieftainess informs us that Mr. Potter was second to reach the hostages, and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely his own."

"Always feels the need to be a hero," Pansy rolled her eyes, exasperated. Ginny and Effie snorted—not like they could protest either. Potter did have a superhero complex.

"Most of the judges," and here, Bagman gave Karkaroff a very nasty look, "feel that this shows moral fiber and merits full marks. However. . . Mr. Potter's score is forty-five points."

"You're still in first place!" Pansy squealed in her ear. "We're winning! See, Weaslette? We can win!"

"Shut up, Pansy," Ginny rolled her eyes, but she was smiling fondly as well.

"The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June," Bagman continued. "The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions."

🃏

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