Good Night, Cedric

As June began, the atmosphere at school grew tense and excited once more.

The tension came from the damn final exams, and the excitement from the approaching Third Task.

Students hurried through the corridors clutching books, and seats in the library were in greater demand than Honeydukes' discount counter. Even Rowle, in an unprecedented move, had turned down two Hogsmeade weekends and holed up in the common room, gritting her teeth over Charms theory.

The fifth-year final exams were the O.W.L.s, and Clara wasn't nervous. After all, she had already taken them once. Merlin, that was probably the only advantage she had gained from this long loop. She wondered whether it counted as cheating.

But what worried her more was the approaching Third Task. Exams filled her days in June, and in the evenings she found a classroom to practice her spells. Harry and the other two occasionally joined her training; as Harry put it, she could put him through his paces. After all, the way she cast spells now was rather reminiscent of Snape.

Although Dumbledore had reduced the frequency of her lessons, even knowing that Barty Crouch Jr. was the one orchestrating everything, she still knew nothing about their plot. Afraid that some new complication might arise, she could only train over and over to put her mind at ease.

With less than three weeks left until June 24, Clara was reciting spells even while she ate. Rowle thought she was nervous about the O.W.L.s and urged her not to push herself into becoming a second Professor McGonagall.

Her last exam ended on June 22. In the practical Charms exam, she demonstrated more than a dozen spells without a single mistake. Professor Flitwick was so excited that he stood up on his raised chair and squeaked, "Perfect."

She was very satisfied with the result.

The relaxed mood after the exams lasted less than a day before the approaching Third Task swept it away. Everywhere in the castle, people were discussing what might be placed in the maze-Sphinxes, Blast-Ended Skrewts, Dementors. There were all sorts of guesses. Though Rowle didn't know why Clara was still working so hard after the O.W.L.s, she continued to find different ways to bring her snacks every day, trying to fatten her up a little with chocolate biscuits and pumpkin pie.

On the evening of the twenty-third, Clara returned from training in the Room of Requirement to find Cedric sitting alone in front of the common room fireplace. The biting Defense Against Dark Magic book lay open before him, turned to a page near the back. He was probably making his final preparations for the maze too.

The firelight made the boy's handsome profile look softer still. Clara leaned against the doorway and watched him for a long time, a trace of attachment entering her gaze without her even noticing. The petal on her wrist began to grow hot, flashing with a pale blue light.

"Clara? Are you waiting for someone?"

Clara blinked and came back to herself. Cedric had raised his head and turned sideways to look toward the door, still holding the silver-chain bookmark. She didn't know how long she had been standing there, but he had clearly noticed.

"No." She straightened up from the doorway, walked over to the fireplace, and sat on the arm of the sofa beside him. "You just looked so absorbed that I didn't want to disturb you. Still studying that book? Is it useful?"

Cedric turned the book to show her the cover. Beneath the gilded title, the edges of the pages were densely covered with notes, all annotations he had written with a fine quill. "I think it's quite useful. Chapter three explains how to deal with deceptive Magical Creatures. If there really is a Sphinx in the maze, I'm sure it'll come in handy. Chapter five is about counter-curses. When you gave it to me, you said there was no harm in learning a few more obscure ones, so I memorized all the ones I could. I heard you did very well on your O.W.L.s. Cho told me Professor Flitwick spoke very highly of you."

"I was probably just lucky."

"Lucky? Then I really wish you could spare me some." Cedric smiled, the firelight flickering in his grey-blue eyes. He tucked the silver-chain bookmark between the pages, closed the book on his lap, and turned to look at her. After a moment's silence, his expression grew a little more serious.

"Clara, will you come and watch the competition tomorrow?"

Clara's fingers paused on the arm of the sofa. Of course she would go, but not as a spectator. She wouldn't sit in the Hufflepuff stands, or hold up a scarf and scream with Rowle, or crowd in with everyone else to applaud when he came out of the maze. She would be somewhere he couldn't see her, wearing an amulet on her wrist that could transport her to his side in an instant, ready to charge into the maze and face anything.

"The professors have arranged advanced tutoring for me after the exams, for that strange project." She lied, keeping her tone as casual as she could. "You know Professor Snape won't give me a holiday just because of the Third Task. But Rowle will be there. She said she was going to claim the very middle seat in the front row and clap louder than anyone for you. Besides, I'm sure Cho will be there to cheer you on."

Cedric smiled, looking a little disappointed. "That's a shame. You won't get to see me use the spells from this book with your own eyes. When I get out, I'll tell you what's in the maze."

Clara nodded. "I'm looking forward to it."

As they were talking, the fireplace behind them suddenly changed shape. The flames leapt up and, with a crackle, transformed into a silver phoenix. Fawkes's phantom spread his wings in the firelight, and Dumbledore's voice came from his translucent beak, low and clear.

"Clara, please come to the Headmaster's Office. Mr. Diggory, you have a difficult task ahead of you tomorrow. I think you should rest now."

The flames returned to normal after the last word, and the ash they had stirred up fell onto the edge of the hearth with a faint hiss. Cedric stared for a moment, looking at the fireplace and then at Clara, surprise and concern appearing on his face.

"Professor Dumbledore wants to see you? At this hour?"

"Probably more special training. I told you they wouldn't let me take it easy for long." Clara stood, brushed the ash from the fireplace off her robes, and smiled at him. "You'd better get to bed. The maze won't get any easier just because you stayed up late."

Cedric wanted to say something else, but Clara was already heading for the barrel entrance. Halfway there, she stopped and glanced back at him. He stood in front of the fireplace, still holding the dark-green-covered book, the firelight outlining him in warm gold. He looked at her, his lips moving as though he had more to say. Clara didn't wait for him to say it—she was afraid that if she stayed any longer, she wouldn't be able to resist telling him everything.

"Good night, Cedric. See you tomorrow, and good luck."

The Headmaster's Office was brightly lit. Dumbledore stood in front of his desk, a map of the maze's layout spread out before him. The positions of more than a dozen patrol posts were marked on it in red and blue ink. McGonagall sat in an armchair beside the desk, her fingers interlaced on her lap and her lips pressed into a thin line. Snape leaned in the shadows beside a bookcase, arms folded and face grim. Sirius was probably the most relaxed-looking of them. He stood in front of the fireplace, folding a freshly written report and slipping it into an envelope. When he saw Clara enter, he gave her a slight nod.

"Clara." Dumbledore straightened and gestured for her to come to the desk. "Tomorrow afternoon, Barty Crouch Jr. will be restrained before the competition begins. Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, and Sirius will be responsible for that. They'll intercept him on his way from the castle to the Quidditch Pitch. The whole process won't take more than three minutes. He won't have a chance to get near the maze, much less the cup."

"The cup will be put back in the center of the maze after it's checked in the afternoon, and no one will touch it again." McGonagall picked up the explanation, her voice as brisk and crisp as ever. "Two additional teams of Aurors have been stationed around the grounds. Once Barty Crouch Jr. is subdued, they'll be sent immediately to the perimeter of the maze, as a precaution against Voldemort having planted other agents at any stage. As for the cup itself, if it really has been tampered with, it can only be triggered by the first Champion to touch it. Before that, we have no way of detecting the Portkey unless we dismantle the entire cup, and the Ministry of Magic won't agree to that."

Dumbledore tapped the very center of the maze map with the tip of his wand. A small golden triangle had been drawn there to represent the Goblet of Fire.

"So, after discussing it with Minerva, I decided there should be one final safeguard inside the maze as well." He put down his wand, picked up a small silver badge from the desk, and handed it to Clara. The badge was only the size of a Galleon, and an extremely fine Rune was engraved on its surface, gleaming a dim silver in the candlelight. "A locating charm is stored in this badge. If that cup really is a Portkey, and if it transports you and Cedric somewhere we can't anticipate, you only need to point the badge at the sky and say the incantation as soon as you arrive. No matter how far away you are, no matter what's around you, and no matter what magical barriers stand in the way, I'll know your location immediately and come with the Aurors."

Clara took the badge and turned it over to look at the back. Extremely fine silver threads were set into the engraved Rune, cool to the touch in strange contrast to the warm Gabriel petal on her wrist. She gripped the badge tightly in her palm. "What's the incantation?"

Dumbledore looked at her, then spoke a word. The spell was probably very advanced and ancient. Clara had never heard it in any spellbook or class, but when she repeated it after him, the Rune on the badge lit up, as though awakened from sleep. "Remember that incantation. You only need this one spell, and wherever you are-even in the graveyard at Little Hangleton, even at Voldemort's own feet—we'll come. You only need to hold on until we get there."

Clara clutched the badge tightly in her palm until the edges of the design pressed faint red marks into her skin. "I'll remember it."

Dumbledore nodded, put away his wand, and walked around the desk to stand in front of her. His blue eyes regarded her seriously from behind his Half-moon Spectacles. After a moment's silence, he bent down slightly to meet her eyes, while the other professors in the room watched her too. At that moment, he didn't look like a legendary headmaster, just an old man watching a child far younger than himself walk toward a battlefield.

"Clara, you've already done everything you could. More than anyone could expect. Six months of special training, the amulet, the locating charm—that's all the help we can give you. The rest is up to you." He gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "I believe you'll bring Cedric back. Whatever happens, whatever you see over there, remember: you're not alone."