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╰┈➤ ❝ [𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑅𝑇𝑌-𝑇𝐻𝑅𝐸𝐸] ❞ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
⁺⤾·˚.⃗. [ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴏʙʟᴇᴛ's ғɪɴᴀʟ ᴛᴏʟʟ] 𑁍ࠜೄ ˊˎ
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Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
— Scottish Highlands
( June, 1995. )

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄, buzzing with anticipation and nervous energy as the crowd packed into the stands, their eyes fixed on the center where the maze loomed ominously. The final task of the Triwizard Tournament was about to begin, and the atmosphere was a mix of excitement and dread.

Olympia sat rigidly between Cassie and George, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She had barely spoken since they'd taken their seats, her eyes darting nervously between the maze and the professors gathered near the entrance. Her stomach churned with worry for both Cedric and Harry, the weight of the task ahead of them pressing heavily on her chest.

Fred, seated on George's other side, leaned forward, trying to catch her eye. "Oi, Ols," Fred said lightly, nudging George to pass the message. "If you keep looking like that, people are going to think you're the one going into the maze."

"Shut it, Fred," Cassie said sharply, shooting him a glare before turning back to Olympia. "Ignore him. Cedric and Harry will be fine. They've both made it this far, haven't they?"

Olympia nodded mutely, but her lips pressed into a thin line. George placed a comforting hand on her knee, leaning in close. "Cassie's right," he said softly, his voice steady and reassuring. "Cedric's got this. And if I know Harry, he'll find a way to come out of this in one piece, too. He's annoyingly good at that"

Olympia managed a small, shaky smile, grateful for the support. On her other side, Atlas, seated with Judeth, watched her closely. His arms were crossed, his usual confident demeanor replaced by quiet concern. "Cedric's skilled and Harry's a good kid," he said, his voice low but firm. "They'll get through it. They've both trained for this."

Oliver, sitting a row in front of them with Lee and Seraphina, turned around to join the conversation. "Cedric's got the best chance of winning," he said, his tone matter-of-fact. "He's steady under pressure. Really annoying playing him in quidditch. But that's what you need in a task like this."

Lee nodded in agreement, though his usual carefree expression was more subdued. "And Harry... well, let's be honest, he's got more lives than a Kneazle. They'll both be fine."

The announcer's voice boomed across the pitch, signaling the start of the task. The crowd erupted into cheers, but Olympia barely noticed, her heart pounding as Cedric and Harry stepped forward, their faces calm but focused.

George leaned closer, his voice barely audible over the noise. "Hey," he said, squeezing her knee gently. "Deep breaths. They'll be alright."

Olympia nodded, trying to steady herself, but she couldn't shake the knot of anxiety twisting in her chest. As the champions disappeared into the maze, the crowd's cheers began to fade, leaving only the ominous hum of anticipation.

"How could any of this possibly be legal?" She thought aloud.

Fred, sensing the tension, leaned over George and whispered conspiratorially, "So, what's our plan if Cedric or Harry wins? Going to throw em' a party?"

George rolled his eyes but smirked, while Cassie shot Fred another warning look. Olympia managed a weak laugh, though her heart wasn't in it. "I'll settle for seeing them walk out of that maze in one piece," she said quietly.

Fred's grin softened slightly, and he gave her a reassuring wink. "They will. You'll see."

The group fell into a tense silence as the minutes ticked by, each of them watching the maze with bated breath. Olympia's fingers twisted in her lap, her worry growing with every second that passed. The only comfort was the presence of her friends and family around her, their support a quiet reminder that she wasn't alone in her fear.

The atmosphere around the maze was chaotic, tension rippling through the crowd as the first signs of trouble emerged. Professors had rushed to the edge of the maze, their wands drawn, as the first champion was pulled out: Fleur Delacour. Two professors levitated her limp form onto a stretcher, their faces grave as they hurried her away from the maze's entrance.

Olympia leaned forward in her seat, her hands clutching the edge of the railing as her eyes followed Fleur's unconscious figure. "Is she—" she started, her voice barely above a whisper.

"She's breathing," George said quickly, his hand tightening on her shoulder. "Look, they're already using healing charms."

Sure enough, one of the professors was waving their wand over Fleur, muttering an incantation. A soft glow surrounded her, and after a tense few moments, Fleur began to stir. The relief was almost palpable as her Beauxbatons friends rushed to her side, surrounding her in a flurry of concerned whispers and soft reassurances.

But the crowd's attention was quickly drawn back to the maze as another figure emerged, this one far less composed. Viktor Krum was being dragged out by two professors, his body thrashing wildly and his shouts echoing across the pitch.

"Let me go!" he roared, his voice hoarse and ragged. "The task isn't over! I must—" His words devolved into incoherent growls, his limbs jerking violently as if he were a puppet on strings.

Olympia's heart leapt into her throat as she stood abruptly, her wide eyes locked on Krum's distorted figure. "Bloody hell," she breathed, gripping George's arm tightly. "He's been hexed."

Fred, seated just behind them, leaned forward, his face unusually serious. "Hexed? You're sure?"

"Look at his eyes," Olympia said, her voice sharp with urgency. "They're glazed over—white. That's not him; it's some kind of Imperius or worse."

Cassie gasped beside her, her own hands flying to cover her mouth as she stared at Krum. "What the hell is going on in there? Why is he trashing like that? And what happened to Fleur?"

The professors struggled to restrain Krum, their wands glowing as they muttered counter-curses. His body convulsed unnaturally, and for a moment, it looked as though he might break free. The crowd murmured in confusion and fear, their cheers long forgotten as the gravity of the situation sank in.

"Why aren't they stopping the task?" Judeth hissed, her voice low but frantic. "If it's this dangerous—"

"They can't," Oliver interjected, his tone grim. "The task ends when the Triwizard Cup is claimed. That's the rule."

"Rules be damned," Atlas growled, his normally calm demeanor breaking as he glared down at the scene. "This is insane."

Krum let out a guttural scream, his thrashing growing wilder until one of the professors managed to hit him with a stunning spell. His body went rigid, falling limp as the professors lowered him to the ground. Even in unconsciousness, his face was contorted with rage, his fists still clenched tightly.

Olympia sank back into her seat, her chest heaving as she tried to calm her racing heart. "This isn't just a task," she muttered, her voice trembling. "Something's wrong. Really, really wrong."

George wrapped an arm around her shoulders, his grip firm and protective. "I know," he said softly. "We'll get answers. Just hang on."

Fred leaned forward again, his usual humor absent as he exchanged a glance with George. "What the hell have they gotten Harry and Cedric into?" he muttered. From next to him, Ginny grabbed his arm for mental support.

The silence that followed was suffocating as the crowd watched, waiting for the next development. Olympia's gaze flicked back to the maze, her stomach churning with dread. Cedric and Harry were still in there, and whatever they were facing was far worse than anyone had anticipated.

The tension in the air was unbearable as the minutes dragged on. The stands had grown eerily quiet, the excited hum from earlier in the evening long gone. Olympia sat frozen in her seat, her eyes glued to the maze, every muscle in her body taut. George was beside her, his hand resting on her knee, but even his usual reassuring presence couldn't quell the unease coursing through her.

Then, without warning, a bright flash erupted from the maze. Gasps rippled through the crowd as, in the center of the pitch, Harry Potter appeared, crumpled on the ground. The Triwizard Cup was beside him, its metallic gleam catching the torchlight. At first, it wasn't clear what—or who—was with him.

The crowd erupted into cheers, relief and joy flooding the stands as everyone assumed the task was over and both Harry and Cedric had returned victorious. Olympia exhaled shakily, a weak smile crossing her lips. "They did it," she whispered, her voice trembling. "They're back."

But then, she noticed something—someone—lying beneath Harry. Her heart clenched as she leaned forward, squinting to get a better look. It was Cedric, completely motionless.

The cheers faltered, confusion spreading through the stands. And then, from the far side of the pitch, a blood-curdling scream shattered the silence.

"Non!" Fleur Delacour's anguished cry echoed across the field as she bolted from where she had been sitting, her friends rushing to hold her back. "Non, Cedric! Non!"

The cheers died instantly, replaced by a stunned, heavy silence. Olympia's heart stopped, her breath catching in her throat. She couldn't process what she was seeing—Cedric wasn't moving. He was lying there, his face pale, lifeless.

Next to her, Judeth let out a choked sob, her hands flying to cover her mouth. Cassie, seated on the other side of Olympia, began crying as well, tears streaming down her face as she clung to Atlas for support. But Olympia couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't cry. She was frozen, her mind struggling to make sense of the scene in front of her.

On the pitch, Harry clung to Cedric's body, his face crumpling with grief as he shook his head, shouting something incoherent. Professors rushed toward him, their faces pale as they tried to pull him away, but Harry refused to let go.

From somewhere in the stands, a single voice broke the silence.

Amos Diggory, Cedric's father, stumbled forward, his voice trembling with disbelief. "That's my son!" he cried, his words cracking with grief. "That's my boy!"

The weight of his words hit like a thunderclap, the reality of the moment sinking in for everyone watching.

Cedric Diggory was gone.

Olympia's body felt numb, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she stared at the scene unfolding below. The world seemed to blur around her, the noise of the crowd fading into a dull roar as her vision tunneled on Cedric's lifeless form. She couldn't think, couldn't process anything beyond the overwhelming shock and disbelief.

Judeth buried her face in her hands, her sobs growing louder, while Cassie clung to Atlas, her cries muffled against his shoulder. Fred and George sat frozen, their usual joking expressions replaced by wide-eyed disbelief. Even Lee, always quick with a comment, sat silently, his face pale as he gripped the edge of his seat.

On the field, Amos collapsed to his knees beside his son, his sobs audible even from the stands. He cradled Cedric's face, stroking his hair as if willing him to wake up. "No, no, no," he whispered, his voice breaking. "My boy..."

Olympia's nails dug into the railing in front of her, her entire body trembling. She wanted to cry, to scream, to do something, but she couldn't. She just sat there, staring, as the world came crashing down.

The stands erupted into chaos as professors and Aurors sprang into action, their wands drawn as they worked to evacuate the crowd. Shouts filled the air, both from the crowd and the officials desperately trying to maintain order. People surged toward the exits, some crying, others shouting in confusion and fear.

Olympia, however, didn't move. She remained frozen in her seat, her wide eyes locked on the scene unfolding on the field below. Her hands trembled as they clutched the edge of the railing, her breathing shallow and uneven. The world around her felt distant, muffled, as though she were underwater.

"Olympia," Cassie whispered through her tears, shaking her arm gently. "We—we've got to move. The professors are clearing everyone out."

But Olympia didn't respond. Her mind was stuck on the image of Cedric's lifeless body, the cries of his father echoing in her ears. She couldn't look away, couldn't process the horror of it all.

Fred and George exchanged worried glances, Fred swallowing hard as he stood to help Ginny, Hermione, and Ron move. George stayed where he was, his eyes locked on Olympia, his jaw tight as he knelt in front of her. As the crowd tumbled out someone smacked right into his back causing him to wince in pain—before quickly regaining his composure, for Olympia's sake.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice breaking slightly as he reached up to cup her cheeks, forcing her to look at him. "Hey, Olympia, look at me."

She blinked, her gaze slowly shifting to meet his. Her eyes were glassy, distant, as though she were still caught in a fog.

"Listen to me," George continued, his hands steady despite the panic in his voice. "We've got to go back. We've got to move, okay? It's not safe here."

Olympia's lips parted, but no sound came out. Her chest heaved as she tried to take a breath, but it felt like her lungs wouldn't cooperate.

"Please, Olympia," George choked out, his voice trembling now. "We've got to go. I need you to come with me. Please."

His desperation finally broke through the haze, and she blinked again, her tears spilling over as she nodded faintly. Her hands moved to grip his wrists as if grounding herself, and her voice came out in a broken whisper. "I—okay. Okay."

George exhaled shakily, relief flooding his face as he pulled her to her feet, keeping her steady with an arm around her waist. "That's it," he murmured, his voice soft but firm. "We'll get through this. Just stay with me."

Fred was already helping the others toward the exit, his usual humor completely gone as he ushered them along. Atlas stayed close, his arms protectively around Judeth and Cassie, his face dark with barely contained rage.

"Come on," George urged gently, guiding Olympia as the professors shouted for everyone to clear the stands. "One step at a time. I've got you."

Olympia nodded again, leaning heavily on him as they made their way toward the exits. The world around them was still a blur of noise and chaos, but George's presence kept her grounded, his steady grip on her hand reminding her that she wasn't alone.

As they reached the edge of the stands, she glanced back once, her heart shattering all over again at the sight of Amos Diggory still clutching Cedric's body on the pitch. George gently turned her face back toward him, his expression pained but resolute.

"Don't look back," he whispered. "Just keep moving."