Chapter 259
As soon as they stepped into the maze, the thunderous cheers outside were instantly cut off, as if swallowed by the towering hedges. Not a single sound from the audience could reach the champions anymore.
It was clearly the work of magic.
The dense, towering hedges cast deep shadows over the winding paths. Whether it was their unnatural height or another enchantment layered over them, the darkness felt heavy and deliberate.
Strangely, Ludo Bagman's whistle still carried through clearly.
Two minutes later, two more sharp whistles echoed behind Draco, signaling that all the champions had entered the maze.
There was something odd about this task.
Unlike the first task, where the audience could clearly watch everything unfold, this maze—like the lake before it—hid everything from view.
From the stands, they could see nothing.
Only cheer.
Only wait.
Perhaps that was the point—the tension, the uncertainty, the atmosphere of anticipation.
—
Draco moved forward cautiously, his steps slow and measured.
Soon, the path split into four.
Without hesitation, he chose the leftmost route.
The moment he stepped onto it, something unexpected happened.
The ground shifted.
The path itself slid sideways, merging seamlessly with the adjacent route.
The maze was changing.
—
Not long after, Fleur Delacour arrived at a three-way split.
Slightly out of breath, she scanned the paths before decisively choosing the rightmost one.
It looked straighter.
Cleaner.
Decorated with flowers and greenery more to her liking.
What she didn't realize was that a subtle Bewitching Spell had already fixed her choice—guiding her down that path without her knowing.
—
Then came Harry Potter and Viktor Krum.
Only two paths remained.
Left.
Right.
"Which one?" Harry asked, breathing heavily, hands braced on his knees.
"The left," Krum replied without hesitation, already moving.
His pace was steady, his breathing controlled—his physical conditioning obvious.
Harry glanced once more, then turned and took the right path.
—
Inside the maze, silence reigned.
Time slipped by unnoticed.
Outside, the audience waited, restless.
Only ten minutes had passed.
—
"Whoosh—bang!"
Two brilliant red sparks shot into the sky from deep within the maze—one from the southwest, the other from the southeast.
Bagman's voice rang out, tense with both shock and excitement.
"It seems this task is far more difficult than expected! Which two champions have been eliminated so quickly?"
Without delay, Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick rushed into the maze.
—
The first to return was Fleur.
She was escorted out by McGonagall.
Her silver hair was disheveled, her face pale, but she didn't appear seriously injured.
"Are you alright, Fleur?" Olympe Maxime hurried forward, worry overtaking any concern about the competition.
"I'm fine, Madame Maxime," Fleur replied weakly.
"That thing… it was like an ancient alchemical construct. My charm magic didn't affect it at all."
She lowered her gaze slightly, frustration flickering across her face.
"I might still have had a chance… if it weren't for that strange creature covered in flames."
At those words, Rubeus Hagrid shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
No one seemed to notice.
—
Suddenly, the table rattled violently.
"What happened? Wickidor! Are you alright?!"
Igor Karkaroff had leapt to his feet.
Flitwick had returned—guiding Krum out of the maze.
His condition looked far worse.
His robes were torn.
A long cut stretched across his forehead, blood trailing down his face before drying into dark streaks.
"Dumbledore! Is this your idea of timely rescue?" Karkaroff snapped angrily.
"He's fine," Flitwick replied calmly, though his voice was sharp. "It looks worse than it is. I've already treated him—Madam Pomfrey can handle the rest."
"I'm fine…" Krum muttered, breathing heavily as he waved a hand.
He was quickly forced into a chair by Poppy Pomfrey.
With precise movements, she raised her wand and treated the wound.
The deep gash began to close before their eyes.
"It's only superficial," she announced after a moment.
Then, sharply:
"Do not move."
Krum froze under her gaze.
To Madam Pomfrey, champions or students—it made no difference.
Everyone followed the same rules.
—
"What happened in there?" Karkaroff demanded.
Krum looked frustrated.
"I was careless," he admitted. "I didn't expect something like that… a monkey jumped at me—scratched me—and then…"
He clenched his jaw.
"It stole my distress signal."
A brief silence followed.
Then—
Madame Maxime couldn't hold it in.
A quiet laugh escaped her.
Karkaroff's face turned pale with anger.
He had expected something far more serious.
—
"Well!" Bagman declared loudly, trying to recover the mood. "Perhaps we can already congratulate Hogwarts on winning the Triwizard Cup!"
"Not necessarily," Karkaroff said coldly. "Perhaps they'll all be eliminated."
He cast a dark look toward the maze.
Then suddenly frowned.
"Where is Dumbledore?"
He turned, scanning the area.
The Headmaster was gone.
"He must have gone to the toilet," Percy suggested confidently.