"It’s in here," he whispered. "I bet he used a spell similar to the one Dumbledore used on the Mirror of Erised in our first year. I think that if someone wanted to open this door simply to use the wardrobe, it would open, no problem. But it somehow knows we want what’s hidden inside."
Hermione withdrew her wand. "Should we try an unlocking charm?" she asked.
Harry didn’t think it could be that simple, but he remembered Dumbledore letting him try a Summoning charm before he tried anything trickier.
"Give it a try," he said shrugging.
"Alohomora," Hermione said firmly.
Something sparked, but the wardrobe remained firmly closed.
"Didn’t you say the entrance to the cave demanded payment in blood?" Ron asked, swallowing hard.
"Yeah, but I don’t think Voldemort would use the same protections twice. It’s something different," Harry said, absently.
"The doorknob is off center, just like the fireplace," Hermione said, twisting her lips from side to side.
"I wonder…" Harry said.
"What…" Ron asked.
Harry moved his wand to the center of the wardrobe, where he thought a knob should logically be.
"Aparecium," he said.
Slowly, the blurry outline of a doorknob became visible. It was distorted and it shimmered, almost as if they were looking at it through intense heat.
"Whoa," Ron said, breathing deeply. He put the Spell Detector back on his nose. "It’s covered in red, Harry. Loads of Dark Magic all over it."
"We’d better not touch it directly then," Hermione said. "I’ll use my wand to open it." She waved her wand without using an incantation.
"Hermione!" Ron shouted, grabbing her arm as a jet of white-hot flames shot out from the knob. The blast hit Hermione on the side of her head, knocking her backwards as her hair ignited in a ball of flame. Hermione screamed and moved away, batting at the flames with her hands.
"Hermione!" Ron shouted again, panicked. His shoulder and arm had also been hit with some of the blast, and the flames quickly destroyed the sleeve of his shirt and began to spread. He waved his wand helplessly, as if he couldn’t remember the spell to douse the flames.
Harry’s primary school lessons popped into his head as he thought to push them to the ground and roll them to smother the flames, but his wand would be faster.
"Aguamenti," he shouted. A spray of water issued from his wand, covering both Ron and Hermione.
Hermione lay on the floor, moaning and only half-conscious. The hair on the entire left side of her head was singed, and her scalp was covered with angry red burns that oozed painfully. Ron sat on the floor beside her, dazed and blinking slowly. The skin on his upper arm and shoulder was blackened and raw. He had inched toward Hermione before collapsing and sat gently stroking the uninjured side of her head.
"Hermione," he whispered, his voice cracking.
Harry felt nausea rise within his chest as he stared back and forth between his two friends. He ran a hand through his mussed hair. He’d known this would happen. He hadn’t wanted them to come because he’d known they would end up getting hurt, but he was weak and allowed them to come because he’d wanted company.
He’d seen the terrible damage to Professor Dumbledore’s hand, and he’d let them walk in here anyway. He felt frozen on the spot, his hands shaking and his breath coming in painful gasps.
"Ron? Hermione?" he said, sinking to his knees beside them.
Pull it together. What’s wrong with me? I’ve never fallen apart under pressure like this.
"Episky," he said, holding his wand to the burns on Ron’s arm. He knew it wasn’t the best choice of spells. There must be a healing spell specifically for burns, but this was the only one he knew. The wounds on Ron’s arm did heal slightly, enough to hold him until they could get help, anyway.
He was more concerned about trying it on Hermione, whose burns looked much worse.
"Harry, Ron," Ginny’s voice sounded from the hallway. "Where are you?"
"Ginny!" Harry called desperately.
"Merlin’s Beard! What happened?" Ginny asked, rushing over to her brother and staring at his arm in horror.
"I’m okay," Ron mumbled, brushing away her hands. "Hermione’s hurt."
Harry held his wand next to one of the smaller burns on Hermione’s neck.
"Episky," he whispered, grimacing when Hermione moaned. He felt a stinging behind his eyes and blinked rapidly. The wound healed, so he tentatively moved to her head. He continued to patch her up as best he could, desperately wishing Madam Pomfrey was here.
"I’m sorry," Harry whispered when Hermione cried out as he tried to heal the largest of her burns. "It’s the only healing spell I know."
"It’s all right, Harry," Ginny whispered, gently rubbing his shoulders. She’d stood behind him the whole time, gently urging him on, and he was grateful for her calming presence.
"That’s something we’ll have to do later — learn more healing spells. For now, we’ve just got to do what we can to make them comfortable," she said, her voice trembling slightly.
"There’re traces of Dark magic all over the wardrobe. We found the separate knob, but they got hurt when Hermione tried to open it," Harry said gruffly.
Ginny nodded and moved towards the wardrobe before anyone could stop her. She pointed her wand at the strange knob, opening it with ease.
Harry’s jaw hung open. "How did you…? Ginny, what in Merlin’s name do you think you’re doing? That’s exactly how Ron and Hermione got hurt. I don’t know how you opened it, but we can’t keep taking stupid chances."
"It wasn’t stupid if it worked," she snapped back. "Professor Dumbledore told you that you were able to go along with him last time because you were underage, right? He said Voldemort was foolish enough to believe that someone underage and not fully qualified could never be a threat. Well, I’m still underage — as you’re all so fond of pointing out — so my magic shouldn’t register anymore than yours did."
Harry gaped like a fish, knowing she was right and yet wishing she wasn’t. He needed help, and she was able to provide it. It should have been a simple choice, but despite the fact his head knew it, a more primitive part of him kept demanding to protect her from it all.
"We don’t have time for your caveman heroics, Harry," Ginny said in a bored voice, almost as if she’d read his mind. "I’m going with you. I already told you that we’re not letting you do this alone, so just shut it and take all the reasons that are about to explode from your mouth and stick ‘em up your arse," Ginny said, her eyes blazing.
"Ginny-"
"Are you coming or not?" she asked firmly.
"We can’t just go. We have to get some help for Ron and Hermione," Harry said. He knew he was stalling, but she could be so infuriating that it was hard to think straight. "We’ll Apparate them back to Grimmauld Place and get Madam Pomfrey."
"After we get the Horcrux," Ginny said, swallowing hard. Her eyes flickered briefly to Ron, whose eyes had closed.
"What? No-" Harry said.
"Yes, Harry," Ron said, opening his eyes and pulling himself up against the wall. "We didn’t get this far to turn back now."
Harry stared at the steely determination in his friend’s pale face, knowing he was right, yet unable to move.
Ron gasped as he pulled himself closer to Hermione. "Bring back the damn Horcrux, Harry."
"Use your Patronus if you need to call for help," Harry said, looking right into Ron’s eyes. "Do you think you can Apparate?"
"Yeah," Ron said, gasping. "If you’re not back in an hour, I’ll take Hermione back and bring some help. I need to stay with Hermione."
He looked as if it pained him to say it, as if being asked to choose between his two best friends was tearing him apart.
"Don’t be ridiculous, Ron. You’re hurt, and you can’t leave Hermione here alone. We’ll be all right, and we’ll be back as soon as we can," Harry said, staring intently in Ron’s eyes.
The two communicated silently for a moment, each knowing the other would easily give his own life to save his friend.
"Take care of each other," Ron said. "Listen to Harry, Ginny. Don’t do anything stupid just to prove yourself."
Ginny scowled, but nodded resolutely. She turned her back to him and stepped into the wardrobe, her hands splayed out in front of her as if she were blind.
Harry hurriedly joined her inside the wardrobe. It was pitch black and cavernous. He took several shuffling steps before realizing there was no way there should have been this much room inside.
"Ginny," he whispered, knowing she was only a step ahead of him but unable to see her.
How am I supposed to protect her when I can’t even see her?
"Yeah?" she replied, sounding frightened for the first time.
He didn’t blame her. Although he’d never admit it, he was scared, too. The pitch dark was unnerving, and the nagging worry for Ron and Hermione nearly undid him. He reached out until he found her hand.
She clasped his tightly, threading his fingers with hers, and he thought it would take a bigger wizard than Voldemort to make her let go.
They shuffled in silence for what felt like an impossibly long time, although he knew it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. Suddenly, the darkness ended and they stepped out into blazing sunlight.
"Where are we?" Ginny gasped in wonder as she looked around.
Harry’s mouth hung open as he spun around in circles. They were inside what looked to Harry like the Parthenon in Ancient Athens, except that it was intact rather than in ruins.
Ginny took a step backwards. "I don’t have a good feeling about this, Harry," she whispered.
A sliding sound caused them both to spin around. They were staring at a solid stone wall.
"What happened to the door?" Ginny asked, panicked.
The door had vanished completely, leaving only a small indentation in the shape of a cup.
"Obviously there’s no going back without the Horcrux as a key," Harry said grimly. "But where is it?"
"And what’s guarding it?" Ginny asked, swallowing
A huge wooden gate at the other end of the Parthenon groaned as it slowly began to rise.
"You had to ask," Harry said tonelessly, taking a step in front of Ginny.
The waited with bated breath as the gate fully opened. For a moment, nothing moved, and Harry and Ginny barely breathed. Suddenly, a great, thunderous roar echoed throughout the arena, shaking the stone and causing both teens to cover their ears.
Their eyes widened as a huge, monstrous beast lumbered from the cavern. It was greenish in color with a yellow head and enormous bluish wings. The claws on its feet were as sharp as knives, and its wings and tail were similarly tipped. The dragon raised its head, the irises in its glowing yellow eyes narrowing dangerously when it saw them. It roared again, emitting a blast of fire so intense it caused a fireball to fly across the Parthenon at them.
Harry and Ginny jumped over a wall and ducked in the stands as the flames soared over their heads and scorched the seats above them.
Harry cursed, breathing heavily. "I swore I’d never battle another dragon again as long as I lived.
"It’s a Serbian Scythe-tip," Ginny said, clutching Harry’s arm and sounding awed.
"How do you know?" he asked incredulously.
"You couldn’t grow up in the same house with Charlie and not know something about dragons. The Serbian Scythe-tip and the Hungarian Horntail are the fiercest dragons, therefore the coolest as far as Charlie’s concerned," Ginny said, tentatively peering over the ledge.
"Great," Harry said, grumbling. "He sounds like Hagrid."
"Yeah. Harry, I can see the Horcrux!" Ginny said, her voice rising.
"What? Where?" Harry asked, rising on his knees to peer over the stone next to her.
"There!" she cried, pointing.
Squinting, he could just make out a nest tucked inside the gate where the dragon had fully emerged. The Scythe-tip stalked to and fro in front of the opening as if daring them to try and pass.
"You can do this, Harry," Ginny said. "It’s just like the First Task only now the Horcrux is your golden egg."
"But, Ginny, I don’t have my Firebolt. It’s back in London, and somehow, I don’t think a Summoning charm is going to work through that stone wall," he said, pointing to the now-hidden doorway that led back to the wardrobe.
"Harry, you’re a wizard with more experience than you had then. Conjure one! You don’t need it to last for long, just long enough," Ginny cried, exasperated.
"Right," Harry said, swallowing nervously. His palms were sweating, but he knew he could do this. Picturing his Firebolt in his mind, he conjured a nearly exact duplicate.
"You did it!" Ginny cried.
"Don’t get too excited. I still have to get the cup," Harry said.
Ginny smiled tremulously and pulled the ribbon from her hair. She then knotted it around Harry’s upper arm.
"What’s that for?" he asked, staring at the yellow ribbon.
Ginny shrugged. "Well, I’m not Hermione, so I’m not certain I have my history right, but I think before a tournament battle, the lady is supposed to tie her colors around her Champion of choice to wish him luck."
"Thanks," he mumbled, feeling awkward. He stared at his shoes as he shuffled his feet.
"Don’t thank me yet," Ginny said wryly. "For all I know, yellow is the color that will make a dragon charge."
"Thanks, Gin. Your encouragement is overwhelming right now," he replied, but he grinned when he said it. No matter what the circumstances, she could always make him feel better.
"You can do this, Harry," she said earnestly before grabbing his face and pressing her lips to his.
He returned the kiss, enjoying the searing heat that filled his belly until another roar from the dragon grabbed his attention.
"Here goes nothing," he said, before mounting the broom and soaring into the blue sky.
"Be careful, Harry," Ginny called after him.
He rose well above the arena, circling it and trying to find his best angle. It only took a moment for the great beast to spot him. Roaring in fury, it spread its massive wings and took to the sky after him.
Despite his predicament, Harry couldn’t help but be awed by the creature. Its wingspan was so large that it nearly shadowed the entire width of the Parthenon. It soared gracefully into the sky before turning its voluminous yellow eyes on Harry.
He maneuvered the Firebolt in a steep dive, attempting to fly underneath the dragon before it could turn. He hadn’t counted on its tail, however. The dragon’s tail was long and thin, and the beast used it like a whip. It lashed out at Harry and the scythe-like tip ripped his shirt and cut into his chest, drawing blood.
The beast roared, and its nostrils flared at the scent of Harry’s blood. Harry dove again, but the tail whipped into his back this time. Twice more Harry attempted the dive, and twice more the dragon’s sharp tail sliced into him. His shirt hung in tatters and dripped with blood. His Firebolt was fast, but this dragon was faster.
Harry swung upward, climbing steeply. The dragon was confused and bellowed its ire. It followed Harry’s climb, gaining on him. It breathed out heavily, and Harry could feel the heat from the approaching fireball. He turned quickly, ducking low as he felt the hair on the back of his neck singe. He wrapped around the Parthenon wall and dove between two columns.
The dragon shrieked in rage when it realized it couldn’t follow Harry through the opening. It had to turn and fly up and over the top. Harry took the opportunity and dove towards the dragon’s lair. He had nearly reached it when that whip-like tail lashed out, slicing into him again.
He hissed in pain and had to pull up to avoid another blast of fire. He was growing frustrated and felt slightly lightheaded from the loss of blood. Something had to go his way soon, or he was a goner. He climbed steeply and once again looped over the top to fly back between the columns. He didn’t pause to check if the dragon followed, but instead aimed right for the nest as fast as his broom could carry him.
The dragon shrieked, enraged. Instead of turning this time, it crashed right through the columns. The force slowed the beast slightly. Harry sped towards the ground, pulling up just in time and aimed the broom into the entrance of the cavern. As he leaned down to grab the cup, his broom vanished.
He swore violently. He’d never claimed to be an expert on conjuring spells, but damn it, his timing couldn’t have been worse.
Before he had time to conjure another, he heard the piercing screech of the dragon, and it sounded as if it was approaching fast. He tucked the cup inside the waistband of his jeans and sprinted outside. He dove for the stands just as a fireball streaked overhead.
The dragon bellowed in fury as it clawed at the low wall separating the arena from Harry’s hiding place. He crouched low and tried to move away, but the wall collapsed, leaving him exposed. The dragon’s arm struck the wooden gate that had been sealing the entrance to the lair, shattering it effortlessly. Harry cried out as hundreds of sharp splinters rained down upon his back.
The dragon’s huge arm crashed down again, this time closer to him, and the scythe-tipped claw lanced his side beneath his ribs. The impact of the blow threw Harry in the air, knocking the wind from him. He crashed onto the dirt, panting and clawing at the ground as he tried to get away from the angry dragon.
Before he could move, before he could utter a sound, the dragon’s tail encircled his ankles, hog-tying him, and began to pull him closer. He was certain he could see victory reflected in the sickly yellow eyes. Harry forced himself to stay calm, although he was shaking all over.
The dragon’s tail jerked upward, leaving Harry hanging upside down near the dragon’s mouth. He could see tendrils of smoke spiraling away from the nostrils.
If that thing breathes a fire ball now…
Bruised and bloodied, Harry waited until he was as close the dragon’s face as he dared. He pulled out his wand, aimed it right at those malevolent yellow eyes, and blasted off the most intense Conjunctivitis curse he could manage.
The dragon reared its head and roared, sending out a wave of blistering heat. Harry was released from its hold and he dropped to the ground with a thud. His body ached, but he couldn’t find the strength to move away from the rampaging dragon. The beast was howling in pain, its huge arms clawing at its eyes, which were running and covered with a white slime.
If Harry couldn’t pull himself up, he’d be crushed under the tail or a massive foot. Panting heavily, he tried again to stand, but it was useless. What would happen to Ginny if Harry were killed here? He at least had to get the cup to her so she could escape. Groaning as he rolled to his side, he pulled the gleaming cup from the waistband of his jeans.
He was surprised to see how the gold shone, despite being unpolished for so long. Helga Hufflepuff’s golden crest glinted in the sun. As the dragon sent more flames towards him, Harry instinctively raised the cup like a shield and tossed it into the approaching fire. He rolled to the side to avoid being fried, crying out in pain as he did so.
When the cup made contact with the fire, a blast of bright white light filled the arena. Harry covered his face, feeling as if he’d got a
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