CHAPTER 20: The Third Task
A/N: T/W: Canon events. Grab your tissues
The night before the Third Task, Madeline once again found herself in the Hogwarts kitchens with Cedric Diggory.
She'd found him a few hours before in the library, cramming over dozens of Charms textbooks, desperately trying to find a miracle spell to help him with the tournament. Madeline had eventually pried him out of his seat and down to the kitchens with the promise of a hot drink and a friend to talk to, which he was very grateful for.
"It's not like I'm unprepared," Cedric began. The two were in their same spot in the kitchen underneath the window, however the kitchens were deserted at this time. Madeline had managed to scrounge up two mugs of Conjure Cocoa and a couple of custard cream biscuits, "But my family are coming to watch, and that's a whole extra layer of pressure, you know?"
"I mean, you've battled a dragon and come out the other side pretty unscathed," Madeline pointed out, "I doubt a maze will be much harder than that. Besides, I don't think Dumbledore or Hagrid would purposely put any of you guys in danger. You're going to be fine, trust me."
Cedric smiled, a sort of half-smile that meant he didn't really believe Madeline, but he appreciated her nevertheless, "You'd string me up yourself if I let fear stop me."
"Exactly," Madeline nodded, drawing her knees up to her chest, "So, this is what's going to happen tomorrow; you're going to enter that maze, find the cup, and later on after you've celebrated with Cho or the Hufflepuffs or whatever, we're going to come back here and stuff our faces."
Cedric raised his eyebrow, "Is that a promise?"
"Only if you win," Madeline winked. She raised her mug to Cedric, "Which you will."
Cedric smirked, raising his mug to knock against hers. "A toast to victory?"
"To victory," Madeline nodded.
Cedric rolled his eyes, "You have far too much faith in me."
"And you don't have enough."
Cedric scoffed. He drew his knees up to his chest, resting his head on top of them and turning to look out of the window. The Hogwarts grounds were dark, not a slither of light to be seen except for the moon; bright and full.
"It's not just my family," Cedric eventually admitted, "Ever since this tournament started... I was fine just being 'That Guy' in Hufflepuff who could play a pretty mean game of Quidditch, but now it's like I've got the entire houses reputation on my shoulders."
Madeline raised her eyebrow, "That's a bit dramatic."
"Hufflepuffs have always been quite happy being unseen and unheard, but people have started noticing us, and it's because of me," Cedric rambled, "If I don't win, it just feeds into the stereotype that Hufflepuffs are useless. And if I win, I bring a sort of glory to Hufflepuff that hasn't been seen in decades."
"A house doesn't make a person useless," Madeline argued, "In fact, I'm a strong believer that no one is useless. So you value different things to me; so what?"
Cedric didn't reply; he simply kept staring out of the window.
"I'm sick and tired of us assuming things about each other based on a stupid crest," Madeline huffed, "Us two are friends, although we shouldn't be if we listened to our house stereotypes. So, stop putting pressure on yourself and stop being an idiot. You're going to smash the next task, because the Goblet of Fire picked you for a reason."
Cedric looked up at Madeline with a soft smile on his face, a few moments of needed silence between them. Eventually, Cedric spoke.
"You know, I'm really glad we're friends."
Madeline rolled her eyes, "Stop being such a sap."
"No, I'm being serious," Cedric insisted, "And we're going to stay friends, okay?"
"You say that now-"
"We're going to write to each other over summer," Cedric continued, "And you're going to cheer me on during the next Quidditch season, even if I'm playing against Slytherin. And we're going to give tearful speeches at each others weddings which will be equally emotional and awkward, and-"
"Okay, I get it," Madeline laughed, nudging the boy with her foot, "Seriously, stop being a sap."
Cedric grinned, "Friends for the long run, yeah?"
Madeline rolled her eyes at her friends ridiculousness, but nodded with a smile on her face, "Yeah, alright. For the long run. Till death do us part, or whatever."
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"Spectrespecs," Theo began reading from an old book as the trio made their way to breakfast the next morning, "Are a magical item that allow the wearer, if a Wizard, to see invisible magic. The strength of this item depends on the manufacturer. Some will show simple magics, while others are more tailored to show more complex magics, such as potion effects and invisible creatures."
Madeline shook her head, "I definitely don't own anything like that."
"Well, this is literally the only mention of them that I could find," Theo explained, holding up his copy of '101 Magical Items You Didn't Know Existed'.
"Why are you researching something like that anyway?" Daphne asked.
"This weird girl said I had-"
"Hold on," Daphne snapped, grabbing Madeline's arm, the trio now standing to the left of the entrance of the Great Hall, "You've met Loony Lovegood?!"
"Who?"
"Blonde hair, Ravenclaw, third year," Daphne began listing, but Madeline simply shrugged, "Pansy was talking about her the other week; apparently, she's like, loopy."
"Sounds like her," Madeline nodded.
"Don't listen to a word she says," Daphne firmly shook her head, "Trust me; she's as mad as a hatter. You're wasting your time."
Madeline looked at Theo, who simply shrugged, "Don't look at me, I've never met her."
"Guess all that research was for nothing," Madeline eventually sighed, "Sorry, Theo."
The trio entered the Great Hall, the excitement palpable in the air. Although there were still lessons planned for the day, everyone was far too excited with the prospect of the final task taking place in the afternoon. Breakfast was clearly going to be a very noisy affair, especially for the Gryffindor table.
"I'm going to check on Harry," Madeline told her friends, who both knew what that meant.
Daphne rolled her eyes, "Have fun with Fred."
"Shut up," Madeline laughed, "I'll see you guys later."
Madeline made her way to the Gryffindor table. When she'd first started sitting with Fred, she'd had a sea of stares and glares behind her. However, it seemed that things had calmed down significantly, the sight of the Slytherin at the Gryffindor table no longer a subject of gossip, which she was rather thankful for.
"Morning," Madeline cheerily greeted as she slipped between Fred and Lee.
"There she is!" Lee greeted cheerily, "Our favourite snake!"
"He's kidding," Fred amended, slipping his arm around her waist.
Madeline pouted, looking up at Fred, "Am I not your favourite snake?"
"Crabbe beats you, sorry."
"Oi!"
"Morning Madeline," Hermione greeted politely as she sat herself opposite the couple, Ron and Harry on either side of her, the latter of which looked as pale as a ghost.
"Blimey mate, you don't look too good," George, who was sat on Fred's other side, pointed his fork at Harry.
"Cheers," Harry grumbled, beginning to pile breakfast onto his plate as owls began to swoop into the room, delivering their daily lot of mail.
A copy of the Daily Prophet fell between the small Gryffindor group (for Hermione, as usual). Hermione unfolded the paper, glanced at the front page, and spat out a mouthful of pumpkin juice all over it.
"Merlin!" Madeline shrieked, lifting her plate away from the table, "Warn a girl next time!"
"What?" said Harry and Ron together, staring at her.
"Nothing," Hermione quickly tried to shove the paper out of sight, but Ron grabbed it. He stared at the headline for a few moments, "No way. Not today. That old cow."
"What is it?" Madeline asked, placing the plate back on the table slowly.
"Nothing."
"It's Rita Skeeter again, isn't it?" Harry asked, "It's about me?"
"No," Ron lied, attempting to push the paper out of sight.
While he was distracted, Madeline managed to lean over the table and grab the paper. She'd barely unfolded it when the grating sound of Draco Malfoy's voice interrupted her, shouting across the Great Hall obnoxiously.
"Hey, Potter! Potter! How's your head? You feeling alright? Sure you're not going to go berserk on us?"
"Pansy needs to seriously put him on a leash or something," Madeline groaned.
Draco 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. Daphne and Theo seemed rather uncomfortable, but were also curiously reading the paged of the newspaper.
"Let me see it," Harry insisted to Madeline.
Madeline looked at Hermione and Ron for help, before very hesitantly placing the paper back on the table. She unfolded it, and the small group began reading.
'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.'
"Gone off me a bit, hasn't she?" said Harry lightly, folding up the paper.
"It could be worse," Madeline tried, "I mean, she used an alright picture-"
"Yeah," Fred nodded enthusiastically, but clearly neither of them helping.
Over at the Slytherin table, Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle were laughing at him, tapping their heads with their fingers, pulling grotesquely mad faces, and wagging their tongues like snakes. Madeline rolled her eyes at their immaturity; Pansy seriously had to invest in some leashes.
"How did she know your scar hurt in Divination?" Ron asked, "There's no way she was there, there's no way she could've heard-"
"The window was open," Harry suggested, "I opened it to breathe."
"You were at the top of North Tower," Hermione shook her head, "Your voice couldn't have carried all the way down to the grounds!"
"Well, you're the one who's supposed to be researching magical methods of bugging!" Harry snapped, "You tell me how she did it!"
"I've been trying!" Hermione snapped back.
Madeline nodded, "Seriously Harry; we've been through every book in that library that even mentions eavesdropping, the Daily Prophet, or her name. Nothing. Theres no charm, no technology, and no spell."
And it was true. Madeline and Hermione had been spending a couple of hours every week in the library together after their final lesson of the day. They'd been through every possible book they were allowed to grab, and yet, nothing to explain how Rita Skeeter had been getting her information.
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?" Ron asked, frowning at her.
"Yes," Hermione nodded. 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, Madeline watching the girl carefully.
"I've had an idea," Hermione eventually admitted, "I think... I've had an idea, but I need to check something in the Library. Madeline, can you come with me?"
Madeline nodded halfway through sipping her coffee, clumsily placing the mug down. She squeezed Fred's hand under the table, hastily grabbing her bag as she tried to keep up with the bushy-haired girl, who was now racing to the doors of the Great Hall.
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"I've got it!" Hermione exclaimed quietly. She pulled the stack of books from the shelf onto the bench Madeline had been sat at, flicking through the pages quickly.
Madeline furrowed her eyebrows, "Hermione, I promise you that I don't doubt your genius intellect, but are you sure-"
"Find the section on visitor rules," Hermione ordered as she passed Madeline a copy of 'Hogwarts, A History'.
"Don't you have this thing memorised?"
"Hurry up!"
"Alright!" Madeline agreed, taking the book from Hermione.
The two read in silence for a while, Madeline scanning the pages, but she wasn't exactly sure for what. Eventually, as she reached the second book, Hermione let out a short shriek of joy.
"Blimey!" Madeline whispered, "What have you found?"
"Harry was right about bugging," Hermione grinned, holding up a worn old file, "Read this."
Madeline raised her eyebrow at the print at the front of the file, "Hermione, what are you doing with a census on Animagus?"
Hermione didn't respond. Instead, she looked at Madeline expectantly. And then it clicked.
"She's an Animagus?!" Madeline asked. Her eyes widened, "There are no rules on registering visitors as Animaguses in Hogwarts."
"She's an unregistered Animagus," Hermione explained, flipping the folder open, "See? Her name isn't anywhere on any of these censuses. If you're not registered-"
"It's illegal," Madeline finished, gaping at Hermione, "You're a genius."
"I'm pretty sure she's been turning into a beetle, but I can't be certain. Animaguses have patterns on their animal form that resemble something about their human form," Hermione began wondering, "We both need to keep an eye out for her, alright?"
Madeline nodded, "Let the hunt begin."
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Okay, so Madeline hadn't been expecting to meet her boyfriends parents anytime soon. In fact, she was planning on holding off the event for as long as she possibly could. She wasn't an idiot, she knew that the Witch Weekly article about her was still in circulation. Sure, Fred had reassured her that his mother didn't believe it, but the doubt was still there at the back of her head.
However, it seemed the universe was not on her side that day.
The days classes had dragged, to say the least. Madeline had been busy trying to shut Malfoy and his goons up, going as far as hexing their chairs in History Of Magic with a Jelly-Jinx, causing the trio to end up on the floor more often than not. Even with her newfound entertainment in tormenting the three boys, Madeline was still rather nervous for the looming task ahead.
She walked to the Great Hall for an early dinner with Theo and Daphne by her side, as usual. She spotted Fleur up ahead as they entered the hall, the girl clad in her Beauxbatons uniform and with a twinkle in her eyes. She quickly grabbed Madeline, pulling her to the side of the hall.
"I'm going to marry him one day," Fleur hissed excitedly. It wasn't a dream or a desire, it was a statement.
Madeline furrowed her eyebrows, "Is the Tournament making you loopy?"
"No; look!" Fleur explained, pointing over at the Gryffindor table.
Madeline turned in confusion, scanning the table. There was nothing out of the ordinary, not rea- Oh.
She spotted the man after a few moments, sat between Harry Potter and Ron. He was clearly one of the older Weasley siblings, Madeline assumed Bill from the descriptions Fred had given her. Fleur clearly had no objection whatsoever to the long hair or earrings with fangs on them, the dreamy look in her eyes a testament to that.
"Yeah, you're going to marry him," Madeline agreed eventually. She'd never, never seen her friend so enamoured by someone.
And that's when she spotted her; Molly Weasley, sat across from Harry and next to Ginny, with a warm smile on her face as she passed around the boat of gravy.
Madeline felt her blood run cold.
"You should go say hi to her," Fleur suggested in a whisper, nudging her friend, "Make a good impression, yeah?"
"We'll see," Madeline swallowed, turning back to Fleur, "But good luck for later, yeah? You're going to smash it."
Fleur smiled, giving her friend a long, warm hug. The two separated with a final nod, Fleur hurrying over to the Ravenclaw table, where her younger sister and her mother were animately catching up.
Madeline took a deep breath, wiping her sweaty palms on her skirt before lifting her head up high. She was a Bisset for Merlins sake! She could say hi to her boyfriends mother, easy!
She took deliberately slow steps as she approached the Gryffindor table, ignoring the confused glances from the older Gryffindors. Thankfully, before she reached the little group, Fred spotted her, standing up and rushing over to her.
"I had no idea she was coming to watch Harry," Fred whispered, "You don't have to-"
"Let's just do it," Madeline smiled a little forcefully, "Rip the bandaid off, or whatever."
Fred hesitated, but eventually nodded, grabbing her hand. He gave her a tight squeeze before leading her over to his family, and more specifically, Molly Weasley.
"Mum," Fred began, catching his mothers attention. Madeline stepped up next to him, hands still interlocked, "This is Madeline-"
"Oh, darling!" Molly exclaimed at once, standing up with a bright smile, "Look at you; you're stunning! Oh, bless you; that article was horrible!"
Madeline found herself frozen, simply nodding dumbly, "Uh- yeah, I'm not exactly Rita Skeeter's favourite person right now."
"Sit! Please, sit!" Molly insisted, patting the empty spot next to her, "Let's get some food in you, shall we?"
Alright, this isn't as bad as I thought.
Madeline sat herself between Fred and Molly, still a little on edge despite Molly's seemingly warm welcome. She was definitely motherly, if anything. She began reaching for a pitcher of pumpkin juice, but Molly's voice quickly interrupted her.
"I had no idea Caradoc's daughter was at Hogwarts," Molly confided to her quietly, "I thought your mother had decided to homeschool you, so when Fred said you were a Bisset-"
"You knew my father?" Madeline interrupted, eyes wide.
Molly smiled, "Of course! Caradoc was a great man with a great mind; a true inspiration to the Order."
Madeline frowned in confusion, "The Order?"
Molly looked as if she'd revealed some great secret. She quickly cleared her throat, turning back to the table, "Nothing, don't you worry. Shall we eat? You must be starving, Harry. Are you nervous?"
Madeline was left rather confused, but it seemed that Molly had removed her focus from her. Or at least, for now. All in all, it wasn't a bad first meeting.
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"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin!" Ludo Bagman announced.
Madeline was tightly sat between Theo and Daphne on one of the higher benches in the stands surrounding the arena. Fred and George were busy making the rounds between the benches, trying to sell their products as well as various sweets and chocolate. Although it was June, the evening air had grown a little chillier, so the Trio sat closely together.
"This is exciting," Theo observed plainly, "We get to watch and do nothing, again."
"Let me remind you how the points currently stand!" Ludo Bagman continued loudly, his wand pointed to his throat to amplify his voice, "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. Bagman called the stands to silence, "In second place, with eighty points - Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!" More applause. "And in third place - Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!"
Madeline cheered particularly loudly for Fleur. She could see Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Ron, and Hermione applauding Fleur politely, halfway down the stands from her.
She looked at the Champions, all dressed in either their house colour, or their school colour. Madeline waved at Cedric, who spotted her immediately and waved back at her. Cho Chang was just a few meters to the left of Madeline, grabbing Cedric's attention soon after. The two shared wide smiles, something that filled Cedric with determination.
"So... On my whistle, Harry and Cedric!" Bagman announced. He held the whistle to his mouth, "Three - two - one -"
He gave a short blast on his whistle, and Harry and Cedric hurried forward into the maze.
An obnoxious trumpet-lead song began playing as Cedric and Harry entered the maze, the Hogwarts students cheering wildly. Madeline managed to catch a glimpse of Cedric as he turned to the right, before disappearing entirely from her vision.
"How long do you reckon this'll last?" Daphne wondered.
"One of them is bound to find the cup eventually, even by accident," Theo offered, eyeing Viktor Krum particularly hard on that last comment.
Fleur and Viktor were eventually let into the maze some time after the first two champions, leaving the audience to watch in anticipation as the four made their way through the maze. Some of the teachers were patrolling the outside of the hedged maze, including Moody and McGonagall, whilst Snape and Flitwick stood at the top of the stands, overlooking the arena.
The audience soon fell into idle chatter as they awaited for the first Champion to return. Daphne and Theo had been passionately discussing something, Madeline wasn't sure what. Her mind had wandered, blocking out the chatter around her.
The Champions had been in the maze for at least an hour, no one could blame Madeline for getting bored easily. She idly played with the necklace around her neck, the gold of the tear-shaped pendant interesting her far more than a motionless maze. She traced the edge of the shape over and over, a habit she'd picked up recently, especially in class.
Suddenly, Madeline felt a burning sensation on her finger.
She took her hand away from the necklace, gasping at the stinging sensation. She looked down at her finger, shocked to find a tiny little burn on it, now dissolving away into her skin, as if it had never been there in the first place.
Madeline turned to her friends to see if they'd seen anything, but to her surprise, they were still engrossed in their conversation. She turned back to watch the maze, holding her breath as she spotted something rather odd.
Whilst her friends hadn't heard or seen her little accident, it seemed that Mad-Eye Moody, who was standing at least twenty feet away from her, had.
It was sheer luck that Madeline noticed the flask laced by his side as he turned away from her, licking his lips as he continued to watch over the maze. It was sheer luck that she also spotted Luna Lovegood on the other side of the stalls, the pink glasses balanced over her head. And it was absolutely, completely sheer luck that Madeline had an idea.
She slowly lifted the pendant to her right eye, closing her left eye and peering through the necklace like a monocle.
The word echoed in her mind.
Spectrespecs.
Luna had been right. Madeline didn't know how the blonde girl had figured it out, but she had. Because as she peered through the tear-shaped pendant, Madeline found herself looking at a whole other world.
Well, not exactly another world. It was as if everything had a pink hue, the faces of the people around her disappearing, leaving only their outline. It was like she was seeing everything through deep, fuzzy rose-tinted glass. She spotted a couple of tiny little fairy-like creatures floating around where Luna had been, as well as a golden line tracing the outside of the maze. Madeline realised that must be a containment charm, to ensure the creatures in the maze stayed inside. She looked around the arena in amazement, recalling what Theo had told her.
"A magical item that allow the wearer, if a Wizard, to see invisible magic."
She continued to look around in awe; if her father had made the pendant and enchanted it, he really must've been a great wizard.
And then she saw it.
Moody, or at least who she assumed was Moody, was chugging from his flask again. Except, through the lens of the pendant she could now see a bright red aura around him, shining the brightest from the flask.
Madeline took the pendant away from her eye, confirming that it was in fact Moody. She furrowed her eyebrows. There were very few potions that required the drinker to drink so frequently; not even medical potions required more than one dose. And it was definitely a potion. She began recalling the things Moody had said to her over the months;
"You're a talented witch, and you seem to be rather close with Potter."
"Do keep an eye on him, will you? Between me and you... I have a strong suspicion that someone might want him dead."
"You're going to have to make a choice one day, Miss Bisset. Keep your eyes and ears open, especially around Potter. You never know who might be lurking around the corner, and a witch with your talent is a powerful ally to have."
"Flattery is the tongue of the liars," Madeline whispered to herself. Her eyes shot up, falling onto Moody, and she realised;
Polyjuice Potion.
There was no other explanation. She'd heard the rumours about Snape's storage cupboard being broken into, and Moody had always been here. It would explain why he had to continuously drink it. Moody had been the one to suggest Gillyweed to Neville, he'd told her this. Whoever was pretending to be Moody must've been a skilled Wizard.
They must've been the person to put Harry's name in the Goblet.
"Mads, are you okay?" Daphne asked, noticing her friends shocked expression.
Madeline didn't reply. She spotted Snape halfway down the steps of the stalls, near the Weasleys. She ignored her friends confused expressions, standing up and hastily making her way down to the Professor. She had to be right, she knew she was right.
"Professor!" Madeline began calling, "Professor Snape!"
Snape turned around at once, a frown set on his face. The moment he saw Madeline rushing over to him, his frown turned slightly concerned.
"What is it, Bisset?" Snape hissed, trying not to attract more attention than Madeline already had.
"It's Moody," she whispered, finally noticing the odd stares the students were giving her, including Molly Weasley, "It's not him. He's not-"
Before Madeline could continue, a sudden sharp pain erupted in her head.
Madeline shrieked, crumbling to the floor as she clutched her head. She could hear her own frantic heartbeat in her head, a burning behind her eyes so strong that they started watering. It was as if someone was splitting her brain open, like everything was being engulfed in fire.
Her eyes were closed; she knew her eyes were closed. But suddenly, she could see.
A graveyard. Harry, trapped. A circle of men, all with black capes covering their faces.
Something rising.
She didn't know how long she'd been on the floor, but she eventually came back to consciousness as the pain faded away from her head. When she eventually managed to open her eyes, she was surrounded by both Fred and Snape, both of which were crouched in front of her. Fred had his hand on her back, rubbing it soothingly as she panted heavily.
"-Okay," Madeline began tuning in to what Fred was saying, "You're okay. You're fine."
"What the hell," Madeline muttered, rubbing her head.
"Are you alright?" Molly Weasley's concerned voice broke through the haze in her head. She blinked, fully coming to her senses.
Shakily, she got back to her feet with Fred's help, his hand on her elbow ready to catch her. Snape looked at her sternly, his face unmoving from his usual frown.
"Bisset, what was it?" Snape asked sternly, Moly casting the man a disbelieving look.
"She just collapsed, Severus!" she protested, "Give the girl a break!"
"No, he's right," Madeline interrupted. She met Snape's eyes, the same urgency as before returning, "Moody. It's not him, the flask is Polyjuice Potion. He's the one-"
Madeline was interrupted by the same obnoxious trumpet music that had begun the event. It caught everyone's attention, everyone turning to watch as the first Champion returned with the cup.
Applause flooded the arena as the sight of Harry's red Gryffindor uniform was seen, the Triwizard Cup clattering on the floor next to him. The music played louder, Ludo Bagman preparing to announce the winner of the tournament.
The only thing that cut through the fog of loud noise was Cho Chang's piercing scream.
At once, it seemed that every set of eyes in the audience had fallen on it; Cedric Diggory, lying in the grass beneath Harry.
Dead.
Madeline's heart burst into pain incomparable to the one she'd just experienced. It was as if she were floating, watching as Cedric's dad ran through the crowds to his son. She barely registered as the music faded, screams and cries echoing through the stands as more and more students saw the terrible sight before them.
Madeline's necklace burned dully around her neck, the only thing anchoring her to reality. She could faintly feel Fred's grip around her, pulling her to his chest, but she made no move to reciprocate the hug as she felt tears stream down her face.
People continued to shriek around her, "He's dead!" "He's dead!" "Cedric Diggory! Dead!"
"My son!"
The sound of Amos Diggory finally reaching his sons body was what broke her. All at once, it felt like the world had come back in full force, the pain in her chest unbearable. She dug her face into Fred's shirt, wrapping her arms around him, sobbing hysterically into his chest.
A part of her wanted to keep watching, to catch the final glimpse of her best friend, but the sight of him, unmoving in the grass, was far more painful. Fred simply held her tightly, rubbing her back, trying to console her as best as he could. He didn't speak, because he knew nothing he could say would bring the boy back.
She missed Moody pulling Harry away and to the castle. She missed McGonagall her wand madly over the maze, attempting to find the other Champions. She missed Daphne and Theo's frantic footsteps as they ran down to her. She missed Snape spotting Moody and Harry's absence, venturing to the castle himself.
Her aunts words run in her head.
"All the spells in the world can't protect you if you don't know what you're fighting against,"
And in that moment, with her best friend dead a few feet away from her, she realised an important truth.
He's back.