June 24

June 24.

The third task.

Excitement over the Goblet of Fire had begun spreading through the Great Hall that morning.

Cedric was absent from the Hufflepuff table. Rowle sat across from Clara, spreading jam on her toast as he excitedly reported the gossip he had just picked up-Cedric's father had arrived, and he looked just like Cedric, only with slightly whiter hair. He was talking to his son in the common room now.

The Weasley family had come too, probably for Harry Potter.

When Cedric appeared at the entrance to the Great Hall, his father, Amos Diggory, was with him. The elder Diggory was of medium build, with graying hair, but his features were almost a perfect match for Cedric's.

He wore an old-fashioned dark brown traveling cloak, evidently having put on his best clothes especially for his son's competition. Cedric bent down to listen to his father, nodding now and then, a smile Clara knew all too well on his lips.

They stopped beside the Hufflepuff table, and several younger students immediately crowded around, all wishing Cedric victory that night at once. Cedric patiently responded to each of them. Amos Diggory stood watching his son, pride practically overflowing from his face. He kept one hand on Cedric's shoulder, as though he couldn't pat it enough.

Almost at the same time, another group came pouring in from the Entrance Hall. The Weasley family's red hair stood out in the crowd. Mrs. Weasley led the way, wearing a floral robe that had grown a little worn from washing but was neatly pressed, with Bill following behind her.

She spotted Harry beside the Gryffindor table at once and hurried over to give him a tight hug. Then she stepped back and looked him up and down, saying things like "You're too thin" and "Have you been eating properly?" The tips of Harry's ears turned red, but he smiled and answered quietly.

Clara sat in a corner of the Hufflepuff table, sipping her Pumpkin Juice now and then. Rowle had been called away by Ernie to help hang the last streamer, but she was quite at ease on her own. Then Mrs. Weasley's gaze fell on her. The red-haired woman paused, her eyes lingering on Clara's face for two seconds before she walked over. Her expression was less than friendly, her lips pressed into a line and her brow slightly furrowed, with a hint of scrutiny and protectiveness in her expression.

"You're Clara Albert." Mrs. Weasley's voice was quiet, but her tone held an unquestionable certainty.

Clara set down her cup and nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"I read that article about you in Witch Weekly." Mrs. Weasley's fingers clutched the lace trim of her sleeve, her tone a little harder than before. "It said you were between Harry and Diggory-" She paused, apparently weighing her words. "I hope you know that Harry has had more than enough attention already. He doesn't need any more trouble. He and Cedric are both Champions. They need to concentrate on the competition, not be distracted by the rubbish someone like Rita Skeeter writes."

"I understand your concern, Mrs. Weasley. Rita Skeeter made that article up. Harry and I are just friends who attend classes together." Her voice was calm, as though she were stating a fact. "I also hope all the attention tonight will be on the Champions. After all, they deserve it."

Mrs. Weasley stared at her for several seconds. Her lips remained pursed, but her brow relaxed a little. Just as she seemed about to say something else, a voice cut in from the side.

"Mrs. Weasley, don't give her a hard time."

Harry hurried over, still holding a cup of Pumpkin Juice. He had probably followed her all the way from where she had hugged him. He stood beside Clara, his green eyes looking earnestly at Mrs. Weasley from behind his round glasses. His tone held a determination he rarely showed in front of his elders.

"That article was all made up. Skeeter's reports about me and Hermione were lies too-last time, she wrote that Hermione had used a love charm on Krum, and Hermione got a whole cauldronful of Howlers. Clara can't have gotten any fewer than that." He paused, glanced at Clara, and added, "Besides, she saved me several times during special training. If it weren't for her, I'd probably have been cut by Shield Charm fragments at least ten times."

Mrs. Weasley blinked, looking at Harry, then at Clara. Then she sighed, her tense shoulders finally relaxing.

"All right, all right." She reached into the basket she carried, took out two cookies wrapped in greaseproof paper, and pressed them into Clara's hand. "I'm very sorry. I take back what I said, dear. Here, have some biscuits. You look even thinner than Harry. The training must have been hard."

By evening, the sky had darkened earlier than usual.

The hedges on the Quidditch Pitch glowed an unsettling dark green in the twilight. The twenty-foot-high walls of the maze rustled in the wind, like some enormous living creature breathing. The stands were packed, flags fluttered, and cheers rolled like waves.

Clara sat in a temporary tent on the outskirts of the maze. The evening breeze gently billowed the canvas flap, and through a gap she could see the torches flickering at the distant entrance to the maze. The petal charm on her wrist rested against her pulse, showing nothing unusual.

When she told Rowle she wouldn't be going along, she could have sworn he looked as though he had seen a ghost. But that was all right. Once everything was over, she would explain it all to him properly.

Ten minutes before the competition began, McGonagall lifted the tent flap and briefly told her that Barty Crouch Jr. had been subdued and was now locked in a chamber in the castle, guarded by Snape and two Aurors. Clara nodded, her gaze never leaving the entrance to the maze.

She watched the four Champions line up at Mr. Bagman's summons. Phoebe wore silver-blue competition robes, Krum looked grim, and Harry was standing on tiptoe to say something to Cedric. Cedric bent his head to listen, then patted Harry on the shoulder. He wore his yellow-and-black competition robes, with a secret belonging to her inside.

When night fell completely, Bagman's booming voice rang out over the pitch. The four Champions entered the maze one after another.

Cedric paused at the entrance and briefly embraced his father. Then he looked back at the stands, as he had countless times before-Clara knew he was probably looking for Cho Chang. Then he turned and walked into the thick black mist.

Clara's fingers tightened around her sleeve.

All she could do next was wait and pray.

She gripped her wand and badge tightly, ready for battle at any moment.

The first red sparks rose from deep inside the maze-Krum had been eliminated. Then came Phoebe.

The bracelet grew hot once during the wait, probably sensing that the owner of the other petal had encountered some danger, but it soon cooled again.

About ten minutes later, Clara felt the petal on her wrist suddenly turn scorching hot, more intense and urgent than before. She shot to her feet, and before the two Aurors in the tent could ask what was wrong, a blinding burst of silver-blue light erupted from her wrist and enveloped her. She heard one of the Aurors call out, "Miss Albert-" and then the light swallowed his voice.

The world spun, tore apart, and reformed around her. The sensation of weightlessness lasted about three seconds-then her feet struck damp grass hard.

Cold.

The air here was far colder than June at Hogwarts, carrying the rank smell of earth and decay. A graveyard stretched out before her, crooked tombstones casting distorted shadows in the moonlight.

She saw them.

Cedric lay on the ground, struggling to push himself up on his arms. His competition robes were covered in dirt and bits of grass, and a streak of blood marked his face. Harry stood beside him, his wand pointing ahead.

Opposite them, a short man wrapped in a black cloak was coming out of a wooden hut, carrying something.

Clara heard the hoarse, excited voice-"Kill the spare-"

"Expelliarmus!"

Clara's spell was faster than her body. The Disarming Charm struck Wormtail in the chest, sending him staggering backward several steps. His wand flew from his hand and tumbled down among a cluster of crooked tombstones. He whipped his head around, his pale, terrified face twisting as he looked at the girl who had suddenly appeared before him in the moonlight.

Cedric raised his head too. He saw her standing in front of him, wearing crumpled school robes, her hair blown loose by the air currents of her transport, her wand gripped tightly in her hand.

"Clara?" His voice was hoarse and disbelieving, as though he were seeing an apparition.

Clara had no time to answer. A green spell skimmed past her left shoulder and blasted a shower of stone fragments from a tombstone behind her—it was another Death Eater. Their figures began to emerge from the shadows of the graveyard, hooded, their cold, excited eyes gleaming behind their masks.

One, two, three. More and more Death Eaters emerged from the darkness.

"Go, quickly!" Clara shouted. A Shield Charm burst from her left arm, blocking a Cruciatus Curse aimed from a tricky angle. At the same time, she cast Sectumsempra to her right, forcing back another Death Eater who was trying to approach. "The Goblet of Fire is a Portkey! It can take us back! You two, go get it!" Her voice was almost torn apart by the blasts of spells.

Cedric didn't leave. He and Harry raised their wands at the same time and stood beside her—a Stunning Spell and a Disarming Charm shot out together, forcing two Death Eaters back several steps. Clara was so furious she nearly smashed her wand against the ground. She had spent six months, countless loops, one damned protective charm, and hundreds of damned special training sessions just to keep him alive—and now this idiot was showing his Hufflepuff stubbornness at a time like this.

"Cedric Diggory, if you die here, I won't let you off even as a ghost-" She dodged a curse sideways and flung Sectumsempra toward a third Death Eater as she turned. "The Goblet of Fire! Get the Goblet of Fire, quickly!"

Her left hand had already pulled the silver badge from her pocket. She spun around, aimed it at the sky, and spoke the ancient spell Dumbledore had taught her. A jet of silver flame shot from the badge, pierced the thick clouds above the graveyard, and exploded high overhead into a dazzling burst of silver-blue light.

You-Know-Who's voice rose sharply, cracking through the air like a whip: "You useless fools! Don't let them touch the Goblet of Fire! The Goblet of Fire is a Portkey! Stop them!"

Several Death Eaters immediately changed direction and lunged for the Goblet of Fire, then interrupted the Summoning Charm Harry cast at it. The stone-chip sparrows Clara conjured obstructed the view of the first two, but the third Death Eater went around her Shield Charm from the side and grabbed the Goblet of Fire before Cedric's Stunning Spell could hit him, then scrambled back to Voldemort's side. Voldemort no longer looked at Clara. His red eyes passed over her and Cedric, locking fixedly on Harry.

"Potter. Seize Potter. No one else matters."