Morris and Phoebe agreed to form a temporary alliance and head in one direction, deciding to rely on their own abilities once they saw the trophy.
"Have you seen Harry and Krum?" Morris asked.
He remembered what Dumbledore had said—that someone would really die in this game.
It now seems that this person is probably referring to Barty Crouch Jr. Crouch Jr., but he cannot rule out other possibilities.
Moreover, he had a premonition that something was bound to happen with Harry Potter.
"No," Phoebe shook her head, "Since entering the maze, I've only seen you. No one has sent out a distress signal either."
Morris nodded, indicating that he understood.
He estimated that there wasn't much distance left to go before reaching the finish line.
It's possible that either Harry or Krum has already won the trophy.
He wasted too much time on Barty Crouch Jr., and Phoebe also spent a lot of effort dealing with that beast, so it's normal that they fell behind.
Phoebe suddenly leaned closer and wrinkled her nose.
" Morris, what do you smell like?"
She had been smelling an indescribable stench since earlier.
After confirming several times, she finally realized that the scent was coming from Morris.
"Don't worry about it," Morris shrugged. "It's just a minor mishap; it'll be fine in a bit."
Phoebe silently moved two steps to the side.
The two continued walking along the passage on the right.
The hedges grew denser, and the light grew dimmer.
Suddenly, everything became clear.
A circular open space appeared before them, with a low stone platform standing in the center, but it was empty, without any trophy.
Is this the end?
Phoebe looked around, her tone puzzled.
Morris stepped forward to examine it and found a shallow groove around the surface of the stone table, indicating that something had been placed there before.
"The trophy has been taken," he concluded.
Phoebe remained silent for a moment, then finally sighed and asked with some reluctance, "Who do you think will be the Champion?"
"It wasn't me anyway."
Morris replied and began to look around.
He saw a spherical object on the ground not far away. After picking it up, he realized it was a Surveillance Crystal Ball, its surface covered with cracks and completely damaged.
Morris narrowed his eyes.
Things are probably not that simple.
Just then, Krum appeared unsteadily at the entrance.
He looked quite disheveled; his robe was torn open from his left shoulder to his waist, revealing the cut skin underneath, from which blood was still seeping out.
Morris and Phoebe immediately jogged over.
Krum sat down on the ground, panting heavily.
"Am I late?" He looked at the two of them nervously.
"Yes, we're late," Morris nodded. " Harry is the winner. How did you get hurt?"
Krum collapsed to the ground, seemingly devoid of all strength, and said, "I was attacked shortly after entering the maze."
"Who attacked you? A wizard or a beast?"
Morris pressed for more information, while crouching down to examine Krum's wounds closely.
These wounds, though frightening to look at, were merely superficial injuries, bearing no trace of curse or poisoning.
For a wizard, this kind of injury is not a big problem and should be fine.
Phoebe had already taken out her wand and was chanting a spell in a low voice.
The bleeding from Krum's wound gradually stopped.
"Thank you," he said hoarsely. "The one who attacked me was a wizard, but I didn't see his face clearly."
"Was he wearing a black robe?" Morris asked again.
Krum propped himself up on his elbows and nodded. "That's right, and that guy had a really strange stench."
He suddenly twitched his nose and turned to look at Morris.
"That's the smell!" he said confidently. "It smells exactly like you."
"It seems we've encountered the same person." Morris sighed.
Without a doubt, the opponent was also Barty Crouch Jr. Crouch Jr.
It can only be said that Krum was just very unlucky.
But where is Harry now? Nobody told them the game was over.
Morris stood up, looked at the Surveillance Crystal Ball in his hand, and drew his wand. " Reparo!"
The cracks on the Surveillance Crystal Ball began to heal automatically.
at the same time.
Somewhere in Little Hangleton.
Harry was bound to a tombstone with rough hemp rope and couldn't move.
Just now, he reached the end of the maze and picked up the trophy when he was pulled to this place by a force.
Before he could react, a Stunning Spell struck the back of his head.
When I woke up again, I was already in this situation.
Portkey.
That trophy is probably a Portkey.
but...
Why? Is this also part of the competition?
The thought only lingered in Harry's mind for a moment before being completely rejected by the sight before him.
He saw a short man in a black cloak standing in front of a large boiling cauldron, muttering incantations.
"What are you doing?!" Harry struggled and shouted.
The man in black robes turned around.
Harry's pupils contracted sharply as he realized that the other person was Peter Pettigrew.
That ugly face was now filled with fear and madness, its eyes flickering erratically.
Even more horrifying, his left arm was missing a section, and his right hand was tightly gripping a silver dagger, the blade still stained with blood.
The sight left Harry speechless for a moment; he could only struggle desperately.
But the rope was tightly wrapped around his arm, and he didn't budge.
Peter walked towards Harry.
"Don't come any closer!" Harry shouted.
But it was no use. Peter crouched down and, trembling, pressed the dagger against Harry's arm.
A stinging sensation.
After drawing the blood, Peter went back to the large pot and sprinkled the blood from the dagger into it.
"The blood of the enemy..."
He murmured.
Immediately afterwards, he picked up an object from the ground and threw it into the pot.
The liquid in the pot began to boil.
Harry didn't know what would happen next, but he knew one thing: he had to stop them!
Think of a solution quickly!
Harry twisted his body with effort, and something slipped out of the inside pocket of his robe and fell to the ground.
That was the wooden plaque that Morris had given him before the match.
Wait, is that thing glowing?
Harry's eyes widened.
A flash of light appeared, and a familiar figure instantly appeared next to the wooden sign.
Upon landing, Morris immediately saw Harry, who was bound.
He had a premonition that Harry might run into trouble, so before the match he gave his opponent a wooden plaque engraved with a teleportation spell.
"Looks like I'm not too late," Morris said calmly after looking around.
It looked like a cemetery, and the night was dark and eerie.
In the distance was the still-boiling cauldron, and Peter, standing beside it, staring at him, Peter.
No time to explain!
Harry shouted urgently, " Morris! We have to destroy what's in that pot!"