CHAPTER FOURTEEN:

Third Person P.O.V.:

At daybreak the morning after Mr. Crouch attacked Viktor Krum, Charlie met Hermione, Ron, and Harry down at the Owlery to fill them in on the previous night's events.

He told them everything; from Krum and him getting into a little quarrel, much to Hermione's potential disappointment, to Mr. Crouch staggering out of the forest, to his cryptic message, to Dumbledore's arrival, to Krum getting knocked out, to Mr. Crouch disappearing, and then, finally, to Karkaroff's outburst.

Almost instantly, Hermione, Harry, and Ron began spewing out possibilities as to how Mr. Crouch seemingly disappeared. Hermione was convinced that Mr. Crouch attacked Krum and then took off. Ron had a theory that Krum attacked Crouch and then stunned himself, and then Harry, not to anyone's surprise, was under this strange impression that Snape had been involved somehow.

Regardless, the entire thing was still strange to Charlie. Professor Moody had returned that night only to reveal that Mr. Crouch had gone without a trace. There were so many things left up for interpretation, and what didn't help was the constant warnings that both, Harry and Charlie were receiving.

The Third Task was quickly approaching and with Mr. Crouch's outburst of pure insanity, people seemed to be going on the alert. Sirius Black, who had been told what happened by a letter sent by his godson, was more suspicious than ever before about the two young Gryffindor's involvement with the Triwizard Tournament, and he made them promise to prepare well for the final task.

They did, of course, with the help of Hermione and Ron. They spent nearly every afternoon studying protective spells for stunning and disarming, and even practicing a few hexes. However, Charlie still felt a bit worried. Especially with the revelation that Professor Moody, someone who never seemed afraid of anything, was highly suspicious and fearful himself.

He, like Sirius and Hagrid, had made it a point to warn the core four about the intentions of the foreigners, saying that they mustn't be trusted. Apparently, it was Moody's belief that danger was coming; CONSTANT VIGILANCE, he said — but who would trust a man deemed as 'mad as a hatter'?

In the midst of chaos, Fred and George had revealed their plans to begin their joke shop. Charlie always thought that the ideas they were spewing over the summer were merely to annoy their mum, but apparently, they were dead set. The twins have only got a year left at Hogwarts, and so, they had to start planning for their future. The only problem? They had nowhere near enough gold to get them started.

Nonetheless, after the course of the next week, Charlie seemingly felt rejuvenated; his knuckles had healed and his bruises disappeared. He had received an expected scolding from Hermione about his fight, but not for reasons one may think; she was more concerned for her boyfriend's well being than that of Viktor Krum, whom she really couldn't care less. However, Hermione seemingly forgave Charlie for his jealousy once he had apologized in the form of kisses and cuddles.

One evening in the middle of May, Charlie found himself walking back to the common room with Hermione after the two shared a study date in the library. As they walked through the portrait door, they noticed a few fifth years eagerly preparing for their upcoming O.W.L.'s, as well as Harry Potter, sleeping on the couch in front of the fire.

Thinking nothing of it, Charlie and Hermione were heading for the stairs that led up to the dorm room when suddenly, Harry awoke in a panic.
Rushing over, Charlie and Hermione looked at their friend with concern as the boy with glasses clutched the scar on his forehead as if it was burning and causing him pain.

"Harry?" Charlie called and his friend's head snapped towards him. "Are you alright, mate?"

"Y-yeah," Harry gulped, shaking off the effects of his nightmare.

"You were clutching your scar again, Harry," Hermione said worriedly, "Don't lie to us."

Harry sighed, "It was just a bad dream..."

"Bad dreams when it comes to you are never just bad dreams." Charlie said flatly, crossing his arms. "I think you should go see my grandfather — I'll take you even."

"I think that's an excellent idea," Hermione affirmed, proudly smiling up at her boyfriend.

The boy with glasses shook his head slightly as he remembered Sirius's previous advice. Then, after a moment, he reluctantly gave in, "Fine. Let's go."

The two of them bid a farewell to Hermione as they walked back through the portrait hole. Charlie led his friend all of the way down towards the infamous griffin that was guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office.

"Cockroach Cluster," Charlie said, stifling a laugh as Harry looked at him curiously.

Suddenly, the griffin sprang to life and jumped aside, and Harry blinked; completely dumbfounded.

"You've got to be joking," he said to Charlie, "Cockroach Cluster? Really?"

"My grandfather likes to have weird passwords," Charlie laughed before pulling Harry forward, "C'mon, lets go."

They hurried through the gap in the walls and stepped onto the foot of a spiral stone staircase, which moved slowly upward as the doors closed behind them, taking them up to a polished oak door with a brass door knocker.

Both, Harry and Charlie, could hear voices from inside the office. They stepped off the moving staircase and hesitated, listening closely.

"Oh, for goodness sakes, Albus! There is no correlation whatsoever! Once again, you prove to have no idea what you're talking about."

It was none other than the voice of Charlie's father, Fenwick Hawthorne...

"Barty has gone mad." That was the voice of Dumbledore, his voice was easily recognizable through the door, "And he won't be the last. Fenwick, you must take action!"

"I will not," Fenwick barked and suddenly, there was a loud thud; the Minister had slammed his fists on the table, "In times like these the Wizard World looks to its leaders for strength —"

"Then for once show them some!" Dumbledore snapped causing Charlie and Harry to share a worried glance on the other side of the door. "Barty Crouch's breakdown the other night —"

"Has nothing to do with the Triwizard Tournament," Fenwick dismissed. "Therefore, I see no reason for the tournament to be cancelled!"

"And what do you think has happened to Barty Crouch, Minister?" said Professor Moody's growling voice — what an interesting trio to have in one room.

"I see two possibilities, Alastor," said Fenwick with a twisted smile. "Either Crouch has finally cracked — more than likely, I'm sure you'll agree, given his personal history — lost his mind, and gone wandering off somewhere —"

"He wandered extremely quickly, if that is the case, Fenwick," Dumbledore retaliated.

"Or else — well..." Fenwick sounded taken aback. "Well, I'll reserve judgment until after I've seen the place where he was found, but you say it was just past the Beauxbatons carriage? Albus, surely you know what that woman is?"

"I consider her to be a very able headmistress —"

"Albus, come off it!" shouted Fenwick angrily. "Don't you think you might be prejudiced in her favor because of Hagrid? They don't all turn out harmless — if, indeed, you can call Hagrid harmless, with that monster fixation he's got —"

"I no more suspect Madame Maxime than Hagrid," said Dumbledore, as calm as ever. "I think it possible that it is you who is prejudiced, Fenwick."

"Nonsense!" The Minister rebuttals, "What? Simply because I am not blinded by fantasy? Such accusations are intolerable! What is this for, Albus? Is it because I refuse to cancel the tournament? I will not be made to look like a coward!"

"But surely that is what is true," Dumbledore said, his voice sounding irritated, "you've just proved that through your inability to see reason."

"What did you just say?" Fenwick said, anger seeping from his voice. Charlie gulped beyond the door; he had heard that tone often. "What did you just say to me?"

"Excuse me gentlemen," growled Moody, "it might interest you to know that this conversation is no longer private."

Suddenly, the office door opened, and Charlie and Harry stood, guilty, in the doorway as Moody stared down at them with his magical eye.

"Charles, my boy!" Fenwick smiled wickedly as he turned around. "We were just talking about the night that Mr. Crouch appeared on the grounds. It was you who found him, was it not?"

"Yes," Charlie said flatly, walking in the room with Harry trailing behind him. Then, feeling that it was pointless to pretend that he hadn't overheard what they had been saying, he added, "I didn't see Madame Maxime anywhere, though, and she'd have a fair job hiding, wouldn't she?"

Dumbledore smiled at his grandson behind Fenwick's back, his eyes twinkling.

"Yes, well," Fenwick breathed, his jaw tightening in annoyance, "we were about to go for a short walk on the grounds, Charles, so if you and your friend," — he sent Harry a weird look, gazing into his eyes menacingly with a twisted smile — "will excuse us... perhaps if you just go back to your —"

"We wanted to talk to you, Professor," Harry said quickly, ignoring the Minister and looking at Dumbledore, who gave him a swift, searching look.

"Wait here for me," Dumbledore said, peering at both his grandson and Harry. "Our examination of the grounds will not take long."

They trooped out in silence past the two young boys and closed the door. After a minute or so, Charlie heard the clunks of Moody's wooden leg growing fainter in the corridor below.

"Hello, Fawkes," Charlie said as he walked toward the bird's cage to kill time.

The Phoenix was standing on his golden perch beside Dumbledore's desk. The size of a swan, with magnificent scarlet-and-gold plumage, he swished his long tail and blinked benignly at Charlie.

"Your father," Harry addressed his friend, hesitating slightly, "he isn't exactly the most friendly of people, is he?"

Charlie chuckled slightly, turning around to face his friend, "That's quite the understatement."

"He always been like that?" Harry inquired, suddenly realizing that Charlie didn't talk much about his home life.

"Yeah, I suppose," the brown eyed boy said softly, moving around to look at different things as a way to avoid eye contact.

"Forgive me, but I can't imagine him as a father," Harry said truthfully, Charlie's ears perking up, "He seems very..."

"Angry? Scary? Aggressive even?" Charlie suggested with a saddened laugh, "Yeah, trust me, I know."

Harry furrowed his brows, "What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing," Charlie sighed, realizing he probably said too much about his father's harsh reality. "Just forget it."

Noticing his friend's quick dismissal of the topic, Harry let the it go, but he made sure to keep a mental note of the conversation. Charlie had moved around the room, trying to find comfort in such a tense situation. He stopped in front of the glass case which held the Sword of Godric Gryffindor.

He was gazing at it, remembering how it had come to his aid when he had thought all hope was lost, when, in an instant, he noticed a patch of silvery light, dancing and shimmering on the glass case. Charlie looked around for the source of the light and saw a shimmer of silver-white shining brightly from within a black cabinet behind him, whose door had not been closed properly.

Charlie hesitated, glanced at Fawkes once more, then walked across the office, and pulled open the cabinet door.

A shallow stone basin lay there, with odd carvings around the edge: runes and symbols that Charlie did not recognize. The silvery light was radiating from the basin's contents. It looked as though it was filled with a bright, whitish silver liquid, but at the same time, a mist was hovering around it like some sort of gas.

"What is that?" Harry asked, joining his friend at the cabinet.

Charlie shook his head, "No idea. I've never opened this cabinet before."

For some strange reason, both boys felt an odd desire to touch the liquid inside the basin as though it were calling to them. However, they knew from their experience with the magical world, that sticking their hands into a bowl full of some unknown substance was a very stupid thing to do.

Instead, they both leaned forward, their heads right inside the cabinet, looking down, expecting to see the stone at the bottom of the basin, but instead saw an enormous room beyond the surface of the liquid. The room, however, looked nothing of any place within the Hogwarts castle.

Lowering their faces closer, now only inches away from the water, Charlie and Harry saw that rows of witches and wizards were seated around every wall, all facing an empty chair in the middle of the room.

Suddenly, Dumbledore's office gave out a lurch, and it was as if the two boys were given a push, pitching them headfirst into the substance inside the basin.

Weirdly enough, both Gryffindor boys found themselves in the same room that they had seen just moments prior, but, as strange as it may sound,  it was as if they were physically there. Charlie and Harry shared a confused glance before looking around the room. It resembled a courtroom, in Charlie's opinion, as he and Harry stood in a clearly unseen observer position among a grave audience.

As the brown eyed boy surveyed the room some more, he spotted familiar faces in the crowd next to him, including his grandfather, Mr. Crouch, and Professor Moody, all of whom, looked several years younger — what the bloody hell was going on?

Suddenly, the courtroom broke out into silence, and both Gryffindor boys watched as a younger looking Karkaroff was placed into the chair in the middle of the room. The Durmstrang Headmaster was questioned by Mr. Crouch, who had agreed to set him free from Azkaban in exchange for the names of other Death-Eaters.

As expected, Karkaroff squealed like a pig:

Antonin Dolohov, torturer of countless Muggles and non-supporters of the Dark Lord — already taken into custody.

Evan Rosier, who had rather wanted death than be sent to Azkaban for his crimes.

Augustus Rookwood, a spy for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named who had Ministry information.

Then, a name that shocked both Harry and Charlie to the core; Severus Snape.

However, before the two boys could hear more about Snape's antics with the Dark Lord, The younger version of Dumbledore stood up, vouching for him, swearing that Snape had in fact, become a spy for the good side.

Then, with one final attempt at escaping his fate, Karkaroff pleaded to say one final name, which the courtroom seemed to allow, and then, slowly, as if meaning for anticipation...

"Barty Crouch... Junior."

The room had erupted into gasps, every head turning to a young man in the back corner of the room.

The young man looked up, a wicked smile on his face as he tried to run for the door. In a quick instance, Charlie witnessed Crouch Jr. fall to the floor as he was hit with a green spark of magic that came from Professor Moody's wand.

Crouch Jr. was stunned, then picked up by two strongly-built men, and thrown into the chair in the middle of the room where Karkaroff once was. His father, Crouch Sr., looked at his only son with the utmost disgust before he, without second thought, sentenced him to a lifetime in Azkaban for the crimes he had committed.

Before even having time to process, a quiet voice spoke directly in Charlie's ear, "I think, Charles, it is time to return to my office."

Charlie jumped slightly, looking around. Harry, who was beside him, was peering over his friend's  shoulder, gazing at someone intently with a look of shock. Following his friend's gaze, Charlie turned, and suddenly became the utmost confused at what he was seeing.

There was an Albus Dumbledore sitting on his right next to Harry, watching Crouch's son being dragged away by the dementors — and there was an Dumbledore on his left, looking right at him.

"Come," said the Dumbledore on his left, pulling the two young boys forward.

Charlie felt himself rising into the air; the courtroom dissolved around him; for a moment, everything went black before he landed flat on his feet, in what seemed like the dazzling light of Dumbledore's office. The stone basin was shimmering in the cabinet, and his grandfather and Harry were standing beside him.

"Professor," Harry instantly gasped, "I know we shouldn't've — we didn't mean — the cabinet door was sort of open and —"

Dumbledore raised a hand to signal silence, "Curiosity is not a sin, Harry. However, you should exercise caution next time."

Charlie was only half-listening, as he was too busy staring at the stone basin. The contents had returned to their original, silvery-white state, swirling and rippling beneath his gaze.

"What is it?" Charlie asked shakily.

"This? It is called a Pensieve," said Dumbledore. "I sometimes find, and I am sure you two know the feeling, that I simply have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind."

"Uh," said Harry, who couldn't truthfully say that he had ever felt anything of the sort.

"At these times," said Dumbledore, indicating the stone basin, "I use the Pensieve. One simply siphons the excess thoughts from one's mind, pours them into the basin, and examines them at one's leisure. It becomes easier to spot patterns and links, you understand, when they are in this form."

"You mean... that stuff's your thoughts?" Charlie inquired, staring at the swirling white substance in the basin.

"Precisely," Dumbledore smiled as he lifted his wand to his temple, extracting the same strange silvery-white substance that filled the Pensieve.

Dumbledore added this fresh thought to the basin, and Charlie, astonished, saw his own face swimming around the surface of the bowl.

"Wicked."

"Indeed," Dumbledore laughed before closing the cabinet door, this time making sure it was locked properly before he turned to Harry, "So, before you two got lost in my thoughts, you wanted to tell me something."

"Yeah," Harry said slowly, looking to his friend who simply urged him to continue, "Professor, I was just asleep in the common and well... I had a dream."

Dumbledore raised a brow, "That's quite understandable Harry..."

"Well," Harry gulped, "The dream was about Lord Voldemort. He was torturing Wormtail...you know who Wormtail —"

"I do know," said Dumbledore promptly. "Please continue."

"Voldemort got a letter from an owl. He said  someone was dead. Then he said, Wormtail wouldn't be fed to the snake — there was a snake beside his chair. He said he'd be feeding me to it, instead. Then he did the Cruciatus Curse on Wormtail — and my scar hurt. It woke me up, it hurt so badly."

Dumbledore merely looked at him. Charlie simply stared at his friend curiously; it was the first time he had been told what happened as well.

"Uh, and that's all," said Harry, cowering slightly at the intense gazes that were upon him.

"I see," said Dumbledore quietly. "I see. Now, has your scar hurt at any other time this year, except the time it woke you up over the summer?"

"No, I — how did you know it woke me up over the summer?" said Harry, astonished.

"I told him," Charlie said simply, and Harry sent him a strange look. "I wanted to make sure we told someone we could trust. Didn't matter anyway, he already knew when I told him — apparently, we aren't Sirius's only correspondents."

Harry nodded before looking to Dumbledore curiously, "D'you — d'you know why my scar's hurting me?"

Dumbledore looked very intently at Harry for a moment, and then said, "I have a theory, no more than that... It is my belief that your scar hurts both when Lord Voldemort is near you, and when he is feeling a particularly strong surge of hatred."

Charlie raised a brow, "But... why is that?"

"Because Harry and he are connected by the curse that failed," explained Dumbledore before pointing to Harry's forehead. "That is no ordinary scar."

"So you think... that dream... did it really happen?"

"It is possible," sighed Dumbledore. "I would say — probable. Harry — did you see Voldemort?"

"No," Harry shook his head. "Just the back of his chair. But — there wouldn't have been anything to see, would there? I mean, he hasn't got a body, has he? But... but then how could he have held the wand?"

"How indeed..." muttered Dumbledore. "How indeed..."

The three of them sat in silence for a moment, Charlie was trying to process the newfound information — did this mean Voldemort was getting stronger?

After a moment, Charlie spoke again, "Grandfather... what happened to Crouch's son?"

"He had a talent for tragedy," Dumbledore sighed. "You see, he felt that he possessed the answers for the ills of the world. That is, I believe, a mistake we should all wish to avoid."

Again, Charlie thought for a moment, "I suppose Karkaroff's testimony is what got him released?"

"I suppose you're right," Dumbledore smiled at his grandson, moving toward him and placing a hand on his shoulder, "Does he trouble you, Charles? Karkaroff?"

Charlie shared a glance with Harry before he shrugged.

"He's a troubled man," he dismissed, wanting to move on to another topic, "why do you want to cancel the Triwizard Tournament?"

Dumbledore studied his grandson for a moment, debating on what to say, before finally speaking slowly, "The two of you are in danger, and for the first time, I'm not sure where it's coming from. Initially, I thought it'd be best to let things play out... but with Crouch going mad... and Harry's scar hurting again, I've come to realize that I have made a mistake."

"So," Charlie gulped, sharing a worried glance with Harry, "what do we do?"

"We must see the tournament through until the end as that is the order of your father," Dumbledore sighed, squeezing Charlie's shoulder in comfort. "The only thing we can do from this point forward is prepare," — he moved towards his desk, glancing at the two boys one last time — "good luck with the third task..."

——————————————

The mood in the castle as they entered June became excited and tense again. Everyone was looking forward to the third task, which would take place a week before the end of term. Charlie was practicing hexes at every available moment.

Harry has been trying to perfect his charms as well. He figured that if Voldemort really was getting stronger, he had to be prepared. So, every day after classes, him and Charlie would train with the help of Hermione and Ron.

However, Charlie made sure to squeeze in time to give his girlfriend the attention she damn well deserved. The only bright side about the task approaching, was the fact that nobody seemed to notice them spending an excessive amount of time with one another.

They had already been dating for approximately three months, and things could honestly not have been going better, especially with Viktor Krum's sudden disappearance after he got his ass kicked. One thing was certain, with Hermione by his side, Charlie was more than prepared for what was coming next.

By the term end, Charlie and Harry were exempted from the exams for being Triwizard champions. And yet, they were forced to sit at the back of the room for every test, using the time to look up things that would benefit them in the maze.

Then, without even realizing how time had gone by so quickly, the day of the Final Task was upon them.

The champions had been separated from the rest of the school for the entirety of the day. The only people that were supposed to see them were their families and the judges as they all congregated in chamber of the Great Hall a couple of hours before the task began.

Quite frankly, this was the part of the day that Charlie was dreading the most. If he had his choice of seeing anyone before going out into the maze, he wanted to see Hermione, and definitely not his father. However, much to his annoyance, Fenwick Hawthorne was standing proudly in the chamber amongst the families of all the other champions.

"My dear son," he said with a twisted smile as he grabbed hold of Charlie's arms as he approached, "how are we feeling? Big day for you, isn't it? It all comes down to this! I expect nothing but great things from you today."

Charlie raised a brow, "Your tone implies that I've already won, father."

"Oh, but you have." Fenwick whispered in a scary tone, "You don't know it yet, but today will become legend. The maze is a minuscule moment in the grand scheme of things, Charles. Grasping that Cup in your hands will be revolutionary..."

"I'm not sure what you mean," Charlie said simply. "Is the Triwizard Cup really that important?"

Fenwick smiled wickedly, "Indeed it is, my boy. Indeed it is."

"Right," Charlie said awkwardly, removing himself from his father's tightening grip, "Well, I'm going to go find Harry..."

"Great idea," Fenwick beamed, "you be sure to tell Harry Potter exactly what I've told you... trust me, it'll apply to him too..."

Attempting to get as far away from his father as possible,Charlie surveyed the room. Viktor Krum was over in a corner, conversing with his dark-haired mother and father in rapid Bulgarian. On the other side of the room, Fleur was jabbering away in French to her mother. Then, he saw Mrs. Weasley and Harry standing in front of the fireplace, conversing happily.

"Surprise!" Mrs. Weasley said excitedly as Charlie smiled broadly and walked over to them. "Thought I'd come and watch you and Harry!"

Molly bent down, gave him a hug and kissed him on the cheek.

Wiping the lipstick off of his face with a laugh, Charlie beamed at the red-headed woman, "It's good to see you, Mrs. Weasley. Nice of you to come for Harry like this."

Harry seemed to agree as he smiled widely, nodding in affirmation.

"I'm happy to be here, dear," Molly beamed. "You know, I was quite worried for you two when I heard that you were chosen for such a dangerous tournament, but I must say, I am very impressed! You two seem to be handling yourselves exceptionally well!"

"Uh," Harry laughed, "I wouldn't say exceptionally well..."

Charlie laughed along with his friend before looking around once more; his father seemed to be in engaging in conversation with Karkaroff at the judges table.

Sighing, Charlie turned back to Mrs. Weasley, "Say, you wouldn't fancy a tour, would you, Mrs. Weasley? I can honestly say that I'd rather not stick around here for much longer."

"That would be lovely, dear," Molly beamed, and her, Charlie, and Harry set off through the castle.

The two boys had a very enjoyable time walking around the school grounds with Mrs. Weasley as the sun was setting. They showed her the Beauxbatons carriage and the Durmstrang ship. What intrigued Mrs. Weasley the most, however, was definitely the Whomping Willow, which hadn't been planted until after she had left Hogwarts.

Their last location to show Mrs. Weasley, was, of course, the Quidditch Pitch, which was now completely unrecognizable. A twenty-foot-high hedge ran all the way around the edge of it. There was a gap right in front of them; the entrance to the vast maze. The passage beyond it looked dark and creepy.

Within five minutes after arrival, the stands had begun to fill; the air was full of excited voices and the rumbling of feet as the hundreds of students filed into their seats. The sky was a deep, dark blue now, and the first stars were starting to appear.

Bidding a farewell to Mrs. Weasley who had gone off to find her children in the stands, Harry and Charlie set off for the champion tent. Then, as the two boys were about to enter, Charlie spotted someone out of the corner of his eye.

It had been his girlfriend, of course. She was pacing back and forth behind the tent, shaking her hands out of nervousness. When she looked up and saw Charlie staring at her, she gave him a small smile, but the boy knew her well enough to know something was wrong.

"Hey," he called to Harry, who already stepped inside, "I'll be right back."

Harry raised a brow, "The task is about to start..."

"I know," Charlie said quickly, "I'll only be a minute or two."

And with that, Charlie set off towards a very panicked Hermione behind the tent, where no one else was in sight; Harry didn't even question it.

"Hey," Charlie called softly as he approached her, "everything okay?"

Hermione didn't say anything. Instead, she pulled him into a tight hug as though she had never intended to let him go.

"'Mione," he chuckled, sticking two fingers under her chin to make her meet his gaze, her arms still wrapped around him, "what's wrong?"

"Everything," she breathed out shakily causing the boy's eyes to widen in concern. "I'm scared, Charlie. This task isn't like the others; you don't know what's out there. What if something happens? What if you get hurt or worse —"

"I'm going to be fine —"

"You don't know that." Hermione said quietly, shaking her head before burying it in his chest. "Think about it logically. It's the final task, which can only mean that it is worse than the other two. Do you have any idea how scary it is to even imagine something worse than dragons and grindylows?"

"I'd honestly rather not think about it," Charlie said truthfully. "I'd much rather just deal with things as they come along —"

"You see, that's the type of mindset that is going to get you killed!" Hermione cried, unlinking from him out of frustration. "Don't you get it? People have died in this tournament before! There was a reason that the age restriction was put in place!"

"Where is this coming from?" Charlie inquired, slightly confused. "You were fine last night —"

"Yeah, well last night I wasn't worried about the possibility of losing you!" Hermione breathed out as tears began to fall down her face, her voice cracking slightly. "Last night, I didn't have to imagine a world without you in it... and yet, here we are. In a couple of minutes, you're going into that stupid maze, and I'm forced to think about all of these possibilities... and I can't," — her voice cracking again — "I can't lose you. It'll shatter me, Charlie, don't you get that? It'll break me..."

(A/N: why the FUCK am I crying)

Holding back tears of his own, Charlie pulled his girlfriend close, letting her sob into his chest before he pulled away, holding her face gently, whispering, "I'm not going anywhere. I promise, okay? Whether I win or lose, I'll make it back." — he paused to give her a kiss on the forehead — "I promise, I'll make it back to you..."

Hermione looked deeply into his brown eyes, searching for every bit of reassurance she could find and grasping hold of it tightly.

Despite her worries, there was nothing that she could do, but try and find peace in her boyfriend's promise. Nothing was guaranteed, she knew that, but she also knew that if Charlie promised something, he would go to edge of the earth to fulfill it.

Hermione nodded slowly before reaching up to wrap her hands around the back of his neck, and pull him down for a bittersweet kiss. The taste of salt and strawberries were mixed on her lips from the tears, but it didn't matter, Charlie savoured every bit of that kiss as if it would make or break his fate in the maze.

"Promise me again," Hermione said softly as she pulled back, her forehead resting on his. "I need to hear you say it again..."

"I promise," Charlie whispered instantly, a soft smile forming on his lips.

Then, he reaffirmed his words with his actions and placed a passionate kiss on her lips once again, channeling every bit of emotion to reassure her. They pulled away as the ten minute warning for the start of the task was heard in the distance.

However, as Charlie went to move towards the maze entrance, Hermione kept pulling him back. Capturing his lips time after time again just to calm her nerves.

"I've got to go, baby," Charlie whispered as he pulled away for the last time with a slight chuckle.

Hermione nodded slowly and gave him one last hug before his hand slipped out from hers and he moved towards the maze. She watched him intently as he walked, her heart aching for him. As much as she wanted to believe in his promise, Hermione had this gut feeling that something bad was going to happen.

That thought alone overtook every other emotion that was swelling up inside her. She couldn't imagine her life with Charlie. Especially now that they were more to one another than just friends. There were still so many things she had wanted to experience with him, so many things that she wanted to say to him... but she didn't want to think like this...

Instead, she made her way up to the stands and found a seat next to the Weasley's and simply waited, as that was all she could do.

Charlie joined Harry, Fleur, and Krum who stood with Ludo Bagman at the entrance to the maze. Hagrid, Professor Moody, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick came walking into the stadium and approached Bagman and the champions. They were wearing large, red, luminous stars on their hats, all except Hagrid, who had his on the back of his moleskin vest.

"We are going to be patrolling the outside of the maze," said Professor McGonagall to the champions. "If you get into difficulty, and wish to be rescued, send red sparks into the air, and one of us will come and get you, do you understand?"

The champions nodded.

"Off you go, then!" said Bagman brightly to the four patrollers.

"Good luck, Char," Hagrid whispered as Charlie moved past him to get into position.

The four champions walked away in different directions to station themselves around the maze. Bagman now pointed his wand at his throat, and within seconds, his magically magnified voice echoed into the stands.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, with eighty-five points each — Mr. Charlie Hawthorne and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School!" The cheers and applause sent birds from the Forbidden Forest fluttering into the darkening sky. "In second place, with eighty points — Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!" More applause. "And in third place — Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!"

Charlie stood a good twenty feet away from Harry, but that didn't stop them from giving each other a reassuring nod; this was it...

Looking around the arena, Charlie could make out Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione applauding each champion politely, halfway up the stands. He waved up at them, and they waved back, beaming at him.

Hermione, however, looking more drained than ever as she saw her boyfriend, in his scarlet and black jumper, standing at the edge of the maze, wand ready in his hand. He was smiling up at her in attempt to calm her nerves, and so, Hermione quickly and unnoticeably blew him a kiss.

Charlie, laughing slightly, saw this and grasped a fist full of air only to then hoist his fist in the air in attempt to make it look like he was hyping up the crowd.

It worked, of course, as the crowd was applauding harder now and stomping their feet excitedly, but Hermione smiled cheekily; he got her message. In that moment right there, she took a mental image of his smiling face, deciding that no matter what happens in the arena, this is how she would always remember him:

Her boyfriend, beaming up at her amongst a crowd full of people, but his eyes being dead set only on her with a wide smile, his brown eyes sparkling once again. He was handsome, healthy, and happy...

"So... on my whistle, Harry and Charlie!" announced Bagman and a shiver-worthy silence swept over the crowd causing Charlie to suddenly become a bit nervous.

"Three!"

He looked out at the maze. There was pure darkness in front of him, and the fear of not knowing what was out there was overcoming him.

"Two!"

He thought about his father and about the expectations that were set upon him. Suddenly, an immense pressure was weighing on his shoulders to find the Cup... where was his father anyway? It had just dawned on him, but Charlie couldn't recall seeing him in the stands —

"One!"

Hermione occupied his mind now. His promise replaying in his head like a haunted song, but images of their kiss appearing, giving him the strength he needed in that moment... the doubts in his head leaving him instantly.

He had to survive...

He had a promise to fulfill.

"Let the best champion win!"

Charlie breathed out slowly as Bagman's whistle gave off a short blast before he hurried forward into the depths of the maze — soon enough, the entrance sealed up behind him and an eerie silence filled his ears...

Guess there was no going back now.

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Author's Note:
*this chapter was not proof read*

Alright so I lied lmfao there might be two more chapters of GoF.

Hope you enjoyed! Next chapter should be very interesting...

[insert begging for comments and votes]

xo, Selena

p.s. — feel free to spam the shit outta me with comments, I love reading them lol