Kapitel 258: Chapter 258: "The Third Task Revealed"
As the sun dipped below the horizon on May 27th, casting long shadows across the Hogwarts grounds, Harry Potter made his way toward the Quidditch pitch. The air was crisp with the lingering chill of spring, carrying the scent of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass.
The anticipation in the air was almost tangible. Tonight, the champions would finally learn what the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament would be.
As Harry approached the pitch, he spotted a familiar figure walking alone in the same direction. It was Charles, his younger brother, who seemed lost in thought. By coincidence, they both arrived at the castle exit at the same time.
"Evening, Charles," Harry greeted, not wanting to seem rude by ignoring his brother. His voice, though friendly, carried a hint of the awkwardness that often marked their interactions.
Charles started slightly, as if pulled from deep thought. "Oh, hi, Harry," he replied, sounding a bit surprised and unsure. It was rare for the brothers to find themselves alone together, and neither seemed to know quite how to handle it.
After a moment of silence, broken only by the sound of their footsteps, Charles cleared his throat. "So, um, what do you think the third task is going to be?" he asked, clearly grasping for a topic.
Harry thought for a moment before responding. "It's hard to say for sure. These tasks are meant to be unpredictable. But if I had to guess, I'd say it will test our magical abilities and problem-solving skills overall."
Charles nodded, seeming relieved to have something concrete to discuss. "That makes sense. Actually, Hermione mentioned that Krum said something about finding a treasure in dark tunnels. Do you think that could be it? Like an underground maze or something?"
A small smile tugged at Harry's lips, a mix of amusement and knowing. "You're not far off, but I don't think it'll be tunnels exactly. And as for what it is going to be..." He trailed off, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Let's just say you might not be too happy with what they've done to the Quidditch pitch."
Charles's brow furrowed, concern crossing his features. But before he could ask for more details, they turned the corner, and the Quidditch pitch came into view. Charles stopped dead in his tracks, his mouth falling open in shock.
"What have they done to it?" he exclaimed, his voice rising in disbelief.
The once smooth and flat Quidditch field, a sacred place for players and fans, was now unrecognizable. A maze of low walls twisted and turned across the pitch, transforming the familiar landscape into something strange and daunting. The pristine grass that had hosted countless matches was now interrupted by the intricate pattern of the maze.
Harry bent down to examine the nearest wall, his curiosity piqued. "They're hedges," he said, running his hand over the rough foliage. The leaves were small and packed tightly, promising to grow into thick barriers. "Looks like they're just starting to grow. Give them a bit of time and some magic, and they'll be towering over us."
Before Charles could voice any further complaints, a cheerful voice called out from the center of the transformed pitch. "Hello there!" Ludo Bagman stood waving energetically, his face beaming. Beside him were Krum and Fleur, both looking at the maze with curiosity and a bit of apprehension.
Harry walked over to stand beside Fleur, giving her a warm smile, which she returned with a subtle wink. Charles, still looking annoyed, moved to stand next to Krum, whispering his grievances about the pitch's transformation, to which the Bulgarian Seeker nodded in agreement.
"Well, what d'you think?" Bagman asked happily as Harry and Charles joined the group. "Growing nicely, aren't they? Give them a month and Hagrid'll have them twenty feet high. Don't worry," he added hastily, noticing the concerned expressions on some of the champions' faces, "you'll have your Quidditch field back to normal once the task is over! Now, I imagine you can guess what we're making here?"
There was a moment of silence as the champions surveyed the transformed pitch. Then Krum, in his usual gruff manner, grunted, "Maze."
"That's right!" Bagman exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "A maze. The third task's really very straightforward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the center of the maze. The first champion to touch it will receive full marks."
Fleur tilted her head, her silvery hair catching the moonlight. "We just 'ave to get through the maze?" she asked, her tone suggesting she suspected it wasn't that simple.
Bagman's grin widened. "There will be obstacles," he said, his voice filled with barely contained excitement. "Hagrid is providing a number of creatures... then there will be spells that must be broken... all that sort of thing, you know. Now, the champions who are leading on points will get a head start into the maze." He smiled at Harry, who remained calm. "So it'll be Mr. Potter first, then Miss Delacour, then the younger Mr. Potter, and finally Mr. Krum. But you'll all be in with a fighting chance, depending on how well you get past the obstacles. Should be fun, eh?"
Harry and Charles had a weird look on their faces. They were both well aware that Hagrid's idea of "fun" often involved dangerous creatures that most people would go out of their way to avoid. The thought of facing Hagrid's obstacles brought a mix of excitement and worry to Charles.
"Very well..." Bagman continued, rubbing his hands together as if to ward off the evening chill. "If you haven't got any questions, we'll go back up to the castle, shall we? It's a bit chilly..."
Harry raised his hand, catching Bagman's attention. "The first to the cup gets full marks, so does that mean even if I don't reach the cup first, I still have a chance to win the tournament?"
Bagman's cheerful expression wavered a bit. "Yes, Mr. Potter. The first person will get the full 50 points. For the other places, the judges will score based on how well each champion did in the maze, and the one with the most total points will win the tournament and be crowned Triwizard Champion. So the other champions have a big task ahead to beat you, Mr. Potter. Your lead will be hard to overcome."
As Bagman spoke, his enthusiasm seemed to fade, replaced by a hint of gloom. Unknown to the champions, except for Harry of course, Bagman was silently worrying about losing his bet with the goblins. With Charles in third place, the odds of him winning were slim, and Bagman was already thinking of ways to avoid the goblins' anger. Meanwhile, the goblins were growing excited, anticipating Harry's likely victory.
Harry nodded, processing this information. He was a bit surprised to learn that points would still matter in the final task. He had assumed that whoever reached the cup first would be the winner. This brought some relief; even if something prevented him from reaching the cup first, his lead in points gave him a strong chance of winning.
As Bagman wished them goodnight and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the evening stillness, the champions began to head back. Harry and Fleur naturally moved toward each other, while Krum and Charles headed toward the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Harry leaned in close to Fleur, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered, "Looks like Krum wants to have a private word with Charles. Want to follow?" His voice held a hint of mischief.
Fleur giggled softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I know what they are going to talk about. Hermione Granger. Ah, love and its complications," she said, her accent thicker in the quiet intimacy of the moment. "Good thing we have everything sorted, non? We should let them figure it out. Some things are better worked out privately."
As they walked back towards the castle, Harry and Fleur fell into easy conversation, talking about the upcoming task. Their words were a mix of strategy and playful banter, the seriousness of the tournament balanced by the happiness they found in each other's company.
"With Hagrid in charge of the obstacles, be ready for some excitement. Knowing him, we might be facing anything from Blast-Ended Skrewts to a herd of angry Hippogriffs," Harry said with a grin.
Fleur shuddered. "I 'ope not those Skrewts. They are... 'ow you say... not very charming." She wrinkled her nose, making Harry laugh.
As Harry and Fleur made their way back to the castle, lost in conversation and each other's company, they had no idea they were missing a crucial moment. By choosing romance over curiosity, Harry had missed an important opportunity. The chance to intercept Voldemort's plan, to stop the dark wizard's schemes before they could fully take shape, slipped away along with Krum and Charles.
Years later, Harry would look back on this evening with a wry smile and a shake of his head. He would joke about how his eagerness to be with Fleur had caused him to overlook a turning point—perhaps even the chance to end Voldemort's threat before it escalated. While the night's events didn't lead to a disaster that Harry couldn't handle, they served as a lasting reminder: even the smallest moments can carry the weight of great consequences. And though Harry might have missed an opportunity that night, he had no regrets about choosing love, knowing that those choices made him who he was—both a fierce protector and someone who cherished the people closest to him.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein