Chapter 511: Entering the Labyrinth!!
In any case, the afternoon passed quite pleasantly.
Darren even took them on a tour of the Slytherin common room.
Although they had always believed Slytherin had a terrible reputation, they had to admit—the accommodations were genuinely nice.
Especially Darren's single room.
Harry couldn't hide his envy.
He sighed, saying Darren was pitiful for having to live alone, yet there was an unmistakable trace of jealousy in his eyes.
Because, honestly, Harry thought living alone sounded pretty good.
But once they left Slytherin, Harry told himself firmly that Darren was already miserable enough—there was no need to rub salt in his wounds.
Calling it "comfortable" was clearly just evidence that Darren had been isolated within Slytherin.
They felt much more relaxed when they wandered around the Gryffindor common room.
The Fat Lady recognized Mrs. Weasley.
Apparently, back when Mrs. Weasley was in her fourth year, she'd returned to the dormitory at four in the morning—and the Fat Lady had given her a thorough scolding.
Bill was stunned when he heard that.
Mrs. Weasley laughed shyly and explained that she'd been sneaking around the school with Mr. Weasley.
"The caretaker at the time was Apollion. Your father was locked up by him—he still has a mark on his body!"
Mrs. Weasley giggled.
They also visited Professor Sprout's greenhouse.
It was empty.
Darren took the opportunity to ask quietly,
"How is Percy?"
Harry was just as concerned and hurried closer.
"He's under a lot of pressure," Mr. Weasley sighed.
"Many people think Percy was negligent—that he failed to notice Mr. Crouch's problems early on.
Some even suspect he took advantage of Mr. Crouch's condition for personal gain.
There are letters piling up at home—owls nearly burying him."
Darren frowned deeply.
"I should write to the Ministry of Magic and explain that Mr. Crouch was sometimes normal, sometimes not. This isn't Percy's fault."
"No," Mr. Weasley said firmly.
"You mustn't get involved. Neither you nor Harry.
This matter is complicated.
Percy's just under pressure—he'll be fine.
Besides, they have no evidence. Just suspicion.
They've already prevented him from representing Mr. Crouch in Triwizard matters. Fudge is acting on Mr. Crouch's behalf now."
At dinnertime, they sat at the Gryffindor table.
Ron was completely shocked.
"Mum? What are you doing here?"
Hermione was there too—and she looked a little awkward.
Mrs. Weasley's gaze was very serious at first.
But after Darren explained that the Daily Prophet was lying, and that Hermione was absolutely not that kind of person, Mrs. Weasley immediately softened.
She warmly served Hermione extra food as an apology.
Dinner was lavish.
Almost like a final feast.
Darren ate until he physically couldn't anymore before stopping.
He looked up toward the staff table.
Fudge sat beside Ludo Bagman.
Bagman looked cheerful as ever, while Fudge wore a stiff, expressionless face.
Nearby sat Madame Maxime, her eyes slightly red, staring down at her steak as she poked at it absentmindedly.
Hagrid watched her with open concern.
It seemed he understood her reluctance to acknowledge her heritage.
And so, Hagrid's sympathy was in full force again.
Just as Darren was starting to feel bored, Dumbledore finally stood.
Smiling, he said,
"Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes, I shall lead you to the third task of the Triwizard Tournament.
Please follow Mr. Ludo Bagman to the arena."
Darren stood.
The Hogwarts students erupted into applause.
The Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students were less convinced—but after glancing at their own champions, they could only reluctantly admit that Darren was stronger.
Stronger than them, at least.
In this task, almost no one believed Darren would lose.
Snape tapped his goblet lightly, a faint, proud smile on his lips.
Fudge congratulated him stiffly from the side.
Harry, meanwhile, was pale with nerves.
As he followed Darren out of the Great Hall—along with Fleur and Krum—he felt as though his heart might leap out of his chest.
Ludo Bagman seemed to notice and turned with a grin.
"All right, Harry? I think you'll be just fine.
After all, you've got Darren—he won't let you lose!"
Harry felt that made perfect sense and relaxed slightly.
Darren rolled his eyes inwardly.
Harry definitely wouldn't be relaxed tonight.
Naturally, he didn't say that aloud.
Instead, he put on an excited expression and promised he'd take good care of Harry.
That actually made Harry even calmer.
In his mind, Darren was the one who needed protecting—always so careless, so trusting.
Don't be fooled.
But the moment they stepped onto the Quidditch pitch, Harry's nerves came rushing back.
Because the pitch no longer looked anything like before.
It was completely unrecognizable.
A twelve-foot-high hedge wall enclosed everything.
Ahead of them was a single opening—the entrance to the maze.
Inside, shadows shifted and writhed, dark and unsettling.
"When you enter, your progress will be projected onto the entire stadium so everyone can see how you're doing.
Good luck!"
That only made Harry more anxious.
He really didn't want to be pinned to the ground by a Blast-Ended Skrewt in front of Malfoy.
Five minutes later, the stands filled rapidly.
Hundreds of students and parents poured in.
Laughter and cheers echoed from all sides.
Hagrid, Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and Professor Moody hurried over.
Their hats glittered with starlight.
"We'll be patrolling the perimeter," Professor McGonagall said sternly.
"If you're in danger, send up a distress signal immediately.
Now, cast it once—let me see if any of you still can't manage it."
They each cast the signal.
She nodded in satisfaction, then glanced at Darren.
"Be careful… be very careful…"
She muttered the last words and stepped back.
"All right, off you go. I'll take it from here!"
Ludo Bagman said cheerfully.
Hagrid wished Darren and Harry good luck, and the professors withdrew.
Ludo Bagman tapped his wand against his throat.
"Sonorus."
"Ladies and gentlemen, the third task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin.
I'll announce the scores, and the champions will enter in order.
First place—Darren Potter!
When I blow the whistle, Darren, you will enter first!"
Darren nodded.
Under Harry's worried gaze, he waited for the signal.
The whistle shrilled.
And Darren stepped into the labyrinth.