Milk_Is_My_Drug
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Chapter 102: The Frozen Labyrinth
🕑 Added 2025-05-06 16:38:31 +0000 UTCThe morning air was crisp as Harry and Ron hurried through the castle corridors, their minds heavy with the weight of yet another unsettling vision. Finding Hermione in the library, her nose buried in a book since the sunrise, they wasted no time sharing the details of Harry's latest dream.
“I saw Voldemort,” Harry began, his voice hushed. “He was meeting with werewolves—recruiting them.”
Hermione’s eyes widened, her fingers tightening around the edge of her book. “That means he’s preparing for war,” she whispered. “We have to tell Professor Dumbledore.”
Ro, with an annoyed look, said “And then what? Last time we told him, he already knew you-know-who was back and decided to keep it quiet until the end of the year.”
Hermione frowned. “Ron, Professor Dumbledore explained why he couldn’t just announce it. He needed evidence first.”
Ron huffed. “Come on, he’s Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard. Everyone would believe him if he said the Dark Lord is back.”
Harry, who had been quiet, finally spoke. “I trust him. If he thinks waiting is the right move, then maybe it is.”
Hermione nodded, though concern still flickered in her eyes. “Still, we should report everything we learn. It could be important.”
With that, the trio set off toward the Headmaster’s office. However, before they reached it, they nearly collided with Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore in the corridor.
McGonagall looked particularly upset, her lips pressed into a thin line. Noticing the students, she abruptly stopped and turned to Dumbledore. “We will discuss this later, Albus,” she said sharply before striding away.
Hermione hesitated before asking, “Professor Dumbledore, is Professor Mcgonagall alright? I’ve never seen her that upset.”
Dumbledore gave a tired smile. “Let’s just say she is… frustrated with Professor Malfoy’s rather unorthodox behavior. She sees great promise in him, but his approach to life continues to test her patience.”
The trio exchanged glances but said nothing. Dante had always been an enigma. From his student days to the way he taught and most recently how he acted at the Yule Ball, he certainly wasn’t a conventional individual by any known standard. Hermione chuckled. “I can imagine.”
Dumbledore chose not to elaborate further. The events in Dante’s office were best left unspoken. Instead, he turned his attention back to Harry. “Now, what is it you wished to tell me?”
Harry straightened. “Professor, I had another dream. Voldemort is recruiting werewolves—and probably other magical creatures.”
Dumbledore sighed, the weight of the revelation settling on his shoulders. “He is moving faster than I expected. Thank you for telling me.” His expression softened. “But do not worry. Focus on your studies. You are safe here.”
Hermione hesitated before asking the question that had been nagging at her. “Professor… if the Dark Lord were to attack Hogwarts with all of his Death Eaters and supporters, could we really stop him?”
Dumbledore’s usual twinkle returned to his eyes as he smiled. “I may be old, Miss Granger, but not so old that I would allow my students to come to harm.”
Then, with a knowing look, he added, “And we are not without strong protectors. Professor Malfoy, for instance.”
The trio perked at the mention of Dante as Dumbledore continued, “While I doubt he would go out of his way to deal with Voldemort, if Voldemort were foolish enough to attack Hogwarts, he would quickly find that I am the least of his concerns.”
With that, Dumbledore left them standing in the corridor, his robe billowing behind him.
Ron was the first to break the silence. “Did you hear that?”
Harry nodded. “Yeah.”
Ron swallowed. “Is Dante… really stronger than you-know-who and Prefossor Dumbledore?”
___________
The day of the final task had arrived at last. Excitement buzzed through the air as students and professors from all three schools gathered in the stadium, their eyes fixed on the towering green walls that stood before them. The massive hedges stretched high into the sky, shielding the secrets within.
At the center of the field stood the three champions: Cedric Diggory, Viktor Krum, and Fleur Delacour. The audience erupted in cheers, their voices echoing through the stadium as Dumbledore raised his hands for silence.
“Champions,” Dumbledore’s voice rang out, calm yet commanding. “You have faced many challenges, but now the final task stands before you. The Triwizard Cup lies at the heart of this maze. Your goal is to reach it before your fellow champions.” He paused, his gaze sweeping over the gathered students. “But beware—this is no ordinary maze. It is enchanted, filled with dangers that will test not only your skill but your determination. Should you find yourself in peril, raise your wand and send a red signal into the air, and you will be rescued immediately.”
The champions exchanged glances, determination flashing in their eyes.
Dumbledore then gestured toward Dante, who stood off to the side, his expression as unreadable as ever. “This maze was designed and enchanted by Professor Malfoy. Only he knows its true nature.”
At these words, Dante lazily waved his wand, and the high green walls of the maze trembled before breaking apart. Gasps of awe filled the stadium as the lush greenery crumbled away, revealing what lay beyond—walls of ice and crystal, towering and glistening in the sunlight.
The audience fell silent in sheer astonishment. Unlike the bleak, suffocating hedges used in the last tournament, Dante had crafted a maze of breathtaking beauty. The translucent walls refracted light into shimmering patterns, casting dazzling reflections across the field. It was a frozen labyrinth of elegance and danger, a spectacle unlike anything seen before.
Even Dumbledore seemed momentarily at a loss for words. His eyes, usually twinkling with quiet amusement, now held a rare flicker of surprise.
Dante, indifferent to their reactions, merely looked at the maze with satisfaction. In his past life, the final task had been obscured from view, a tedious wait for the audience with no way of knowing what was happening inside. That, in his opinion, had been utterly ridiculous.
Dumbledore composed himself quickly. “Champions, take your places,” he instructed.
One by one, the champions stepped forward, ready to enter. Cedric went first, followed by Krum, then Fleur. As soon as each of them passed through the entrance, the ice walls shifted behind them, closing off the path they had taken. Now, the waiting began.
Dante stepped forward and, with a casual flick of his wand, conjured a massive parchment that hovered in front of the audience. A collective gasp spread through the crowd as they realized what it was—a giant map of the maze.
On the map, the locations of each trap were marked, along with the precise positions of the champions as they moved through the icy corridors. It was a level of transparency and entertainment that had never been provided before.
For a moment, there was stunned silence. Then, the stands erupted with cheers.
“Brilliant!” someone shouted.
“Professor Malfoy is amazing!”
Dante ignored the praise, watching the maze intently. Dumbledore approached him, his expression one of both amusement and admiration. “A job well done, Professor Malfoy,” he said. “I did not expect you to go this far.”
Dante gave a nonchalant shrug. “Anything less than this is inadequate.”
Dumbledore’s lips curled slightly into a small smile. “I suppose your perspective is quite different.”
The tournament continued for two whole hours. The audience was enthralled, watching as the champions navigated the maze, overcoming obstacles and facing hidden dangers. Some traps required quick thinking, others raw magical skill. beasts made of ice, shifting paths, and illusions tested the champions’ resolve.
In the end, Cedric Diggory emerged victorious, clutching the Triwizard Cup as he was teleported out of the maze.
The Hogwarts students erupted in cheers, celebrating their champion. The Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students, while disappointed, acknowledged Cedric’s victory with respectful applause.
The Triwizard Tournament had come to a thrilling conclusion, but as the cheers rang through the stadium, Dante watched silently.
