February 20th, 1996
A weak sun hung behind faint clouds and the dim, gray sky stretched over a thicket of dark pine trees. Tristan stared into the motionless shadows of the Forbidden Forest, a prickle of unease crawling down his spine.
'I should be glad I've at least interpreted my clues correctly.' He stifled a wry flash of humor. 'Would've been rather embarrassing if the task took place down in the Black Lake instead.'
"Mr. Peverell," Bagman's cheerful voice drifted over his shoulder. "We're just about to start, please join us."
Tristan tore his eyes away and turned on his heels. 'Still, it's called forbidden for a reason...'
He strode back into a wooden amphitheater, opening toward the edge of the forest. Its tallest stands almost matched the dark pine crowns in height; cheers and shouts drifted from the many rows and countless faces with eyes wide in anticipation smiled and waved down at him.
The three heads of the schools along with Krum and Fleur, both dressed in athletic wear, already stood in the center, where large, rune-covered stone slabs had been implanted into the ground in a wide, circular shape. Minister Crouch joined them from a nearby tent, holding a small wooden box under his arm.
"Tristan!"
Tristan glanced to his side in confusion when his name was shouted. His parents stumbled down the stands, their faces white as ash. "Tristan, wait!"
"No! The task is about to start!" Crouch barked from the middle. "Peverell, get over here now or face the consequences!"
Tristan hesitated for a second. "I'll face them. Go ahead and start."
Crouch glared furiously; the rest of the judges exchanged a shrug.
"Well, let's begin." Bagman tapped his throat with the tip of his wand. "Soronus."
"Welcome everybody-," he boomed, his voice echoing from the stands. "Welcome to the second task of the Triwizard Tournament!"
Tristan hurried back and met his parents halfway to the center. "Listen, I'm glad you made it but I don't have-"
"Your sister is not with us." His mother grabbed him tightly by the shoulders, blue eyes wide in fear and body trembled madly. "They took Valeria."
'Someone important... not something.' Tristan's stomach churned like boiling water and the breath slipped from his lips. 'But she went freely with Slughorn this morning. She must have volunteered for it...'
Bagman's voice boomed and startled him. "As you might have gathered, this-," he pointed over Tristan's head to the edge of the forest, "-is where our brave champions will complete their task today..."
"You will sit out the task." His father's breath came faster than he'd ever seen and he ran a hand through his hair, clenching and unclenching his jaw rapidly. "Your mother and I will go into the forest and-"
"No," Tristan said immediately.
Green eyes turned cold and hard as ice. "I wasn't suggesting, Tristan."
"Neither was I," Tristan growled. "We're playing by the Goblet's rules now. If I don't attempt the task to the best of my abilities, I lose my magic. Valeria volunteered to be my hostage. If she's brought back out of that forest by anyone not involved in the tournament, she might lose her magic as well."
"You don't bloody understand what's at stake here," his father whispered with a grimace, stabbing him hard in the chest with his finger. "We can't have either of you in that forest. Ever!"
"I understand that I won't be turned into a fucking squib because you lack trust in me," Tristan hissed and slapped the finger away. "Stay out of this and let me do what I was meant to."
"Bring her back to me." His mother hurled herself into his arms and clung to him tight, hot tears drenching the cloth over his shoulder. "You will both come back to me, do you understand?"
"I promised, I will." He pried himself out of her embrace and shared a long look with his father. "I won't fail you but you need to trust me."
"Go then." He swallowed thickly as if he had poison on his tongue. "Go and bring her back, quickly."
Tristan whirled and hurried back into the center of the amphitheater, throwing a careful glance at both of his competitors.
Fleur showed no signs of surprise, rather she seemed unusually tense. Her blue eyes darted over the crowd without blinking once, searching for something and ignoring Bagman altogether.
Krum's frown had deepened into a scowl. He caught Tristan's glimpse and clenched thickly scarred knuckles tight, his black eyes flashing in anger.
'Might as well add him to the list of dangerous creatures.'
"... but as the two champions in the lead should have deducted already from their clues, we've taken something important from them and hid it in the Forbidden Forest," Bagman explained to the crowd, turning back to them with a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "Now when I say something, I actually mean someone; a hostage they must recover within the span of an hour."
'I won't fail you, sister.'
A ripple of heat washed over Tristan's face and he glanced at Fleur.
"Ma petite sœur," she whispered, irises flashing from summer sky blue to midnight black. "You took my sister for this."
"No one was forced; all hostages volunteered to participate, Ms. Delacour." Crouch snapped his fingers at her, something predatory dwelling in his dark eyes. "You knew what you signed up for when you entered your name into the Goblet."
"Mr. Krum's hostage is his date to the Yule Ball, Hermione Granger," Bagman meanwhile continued. "Mr. Peverell's is his younger sister, Valeria Peverell, and Ms. Delacour's is also her younger sister, Gabrielle Delacour. Champions mustn't interfere with the hostages of another champion, ignoring so will result in a loss of points."
Krum licked his lips with a feral grin; a wild gleam in his dark eyes.
'He doesn't give a fuck whether Granger makes it out of that forest alive.' Anger flashed hot and churned Tristan's insides. 'He's going in there for Valeria...'
He let some of the cool adrenaline creep back into his veins and took deep breaths. Well, you can't get to her if I get to you first.'
"But that is not all!" Bagman cheered. "All of us can witness their adventures first handed because our champions will wear a special gift during their rescue missions."
Crouch opened the small wooden box he was holding firmly and presented three identical bronze rings, handing out one to each of them.
Bagman bounced forward, beaming from ear to ear. "A most generous donation from the British Department of Mysteries, although technically, it's still in development."
Tristan cautiously studied the runic sequences curling around the band of bronze like tiny serpents. Next to him, Fleur had closed her eyes and was running her thumb over it in slow circles, brows drawn together in a small frown. Krum merely shrugged and put the ring on his index fingers.
Dark vapor rose from a rune-covered stone slap a few feet away from Tristan. The crowd first shrieked in hysteria, then awed and cheered as it coiled into the shape of the Bulgarian, matching his build, from knobbly knees to thick eyebrows.
'This changes things... Everyone will see what we're doing.'
Tristan slipped on his own ring and wove his arm from side to side, frowning as his holographic counterpart mirrored his motion while bleeding little wisps of dark smoke.
'But I doubt it'll deter any of Krum's plans.' He slipped the ring back off his finger and his shadow plunged like an avalanche of dark snow. 'Taking it off breaks the connection and lets you do whatever you want.'
McGonagall spun her wand, leaving a ribbon of purple magic in its wake that formed into a counter.
"Champions, take position," Bagman announced over the frantic cheers of the crowd. "The task will start on Minister Crouch's whistle."
'I'm coming, Valeria. Just hold on tight a bit longer.'
Tristan got in line by the edge of the amphitheater, clutching his wand tight and listening to the fierce pounding in his breast. Viktor Krum loudly cracked his knuckles next to him. He could feel the Bulgarian's enraged gaze burning into his side.
'Valeria first,' he repeated silently. 'Krum can wait.'
The whistle went, the crowd erupted in a deafening roar, and Tristan darted off in a sprint, leaving his competitors behind him.
Dead pine needles crunched under his bounds. A bit further back, twigs snapped from Krum's heavy stomps, echoing faintly beneath the branches. Tristan jogged along the forest path deeper into the woods until the pines grew dense, the trunks thicker, and the arching roots rose up to his waist.
He twirled his wand over his head, disillusioning himself. A sphere of light illuminated his path and he crept forward through the dancing shadows of its gloom.
The forest fought his intrusion viciously. Sounds and light traveled barely further than a few dozen feet before either was swallowed by darkness. Slippery vines trapped his feet, sharp thorns sliced his knuckles, and thick, sticky webbing forced him to use his wand like a machete.
The sharp snap of a twig behind a massive trunk ahead of him startled Tristan. He slowed his pace and extinguished the light with a flick of his wand.
'Homenum Revelio.'
Two outlines flickered in red behind the trunk.
'Two?' He peered closer with a frown. 'Shouldn't there be three?'
A shadow jerked within the darkness. "Avada Kedavra!"
Emerald light washed through the woods in a brilliant beam. Tristan threw himself to the ground, wincing as the pine needles bored into his skin and his disillusionment charm slipped from his grasp.
"There he is," a second male voice called. "Let's kill him!"
A volley of hexes punched deep into the forest floor, hurling up chunks of dirt, needles, and splintered twigs.
'You're not on my list of obstacles.' Tristan rolled to the side and leaped back up to his feet, sending the veins in the ground launching like serpents. 'I don't have time for you.'
"Reducto. Reducto! Fuck!"
His assailant blasted the first few apart but missed one that coiled tight around his leg, and tugged him to the ground. A second hooded shadow emerged from the darkness and burned the vines in a torrent of scolding flames, then sent curse after curse hissing at Tristan past the pines.
Tristan deflected bright orange hexes left and right and slipped his own into the mix, noticing the faint twirl of steam coming from his finger. He swerved behind the closest trunk, breathing hard. Spells punched into its bark with a force that shook it to the roots and pine needles rained from the branches high above.
'How convenient that you stopped broadcasting just now.' He slipped the steaming ring off his finger and tossed it into a pile of leaves. 'I guess that means I have free reign as well.'
The onslaught of spells paused. "Check if he's still there. Then cut him off from the side and finish him."
Tristan shook needles from his hair and crept around the trunk. Icy wrath tensed in his heart and the yew wand hummed angrily between his fingers in a swirl of frosty black magic.
"You're both in my way..."
Curses flashed through the pines. His magic lurched and swallowed them in a cloud of exploding black mist and a shower of sparks.
"What the fuck was that?" one of the screamed and hurled curses faster.
"Doesn't matter. Stop playing around and just kill him," the other roared. "Avada Kedavra."
Tristan leaned sideways, emerald light rushing past his face and bursting through the tree trunk. Raw rage reared in his head and countless icy thorns coiled around his heart, clenching tight as a fist.
"My turn."
He thrust his arm faster in a blur of black sleeves, a bright thrill surging through his veins as he forced his assailants to retreat.
"How the fuck is he doing that?" Curses punched through the left one's silvery wall of magic and cut deep into the fabric around his thigh and shoulder. "His magic is not fucking natural."
"You're right," Tristan whispered, black mist whipping forward from his wrist. It scattered frozen pine needles into the air, split into a dozen sharp threads, and flung the man against a giant, collapsed trunk.
'It's far from natural actually...'
Long, jagged teeth of black fog curved back from his victim's limbs, chest, and neck leaving blurt-spurting, fist-sized holes. He slumped to the ground unmoving.
"I'll fucking kill you for that," the remaining one hissed, his wand trembling madly. "Avada Kedavra!"
Tristan ducked the green curse and smiled coldly. "You know, that's a spell I've wanted to try for a while now."
He leveled the yew wand at him and gave in to the seething rage. A cold ball of loathing settled somewhere underneath his ribs and dark, dense emptiness closed tight around his heart.
"Avada Kedavra!"
A brilliant flash of green tore whispering through the pines and struck the hooded shadow square in the chest. He toppled onto his face, wand scattering away over the leaves.
"That worked just fine." Tristan took a shaky gulp of air, his heart still pounding frantically and cold adrenaline coursing through his veins.
'One quick look but then I must get going.' He hurried over to them. 'Krum and Fleur probably had to sneak past unicorns instead of whatever the fuck this was.'
He toppled the one struck by the killing curse over with his foot and flinched back at the sight. A blank, empty face stared up at him from underneath a black hood; robbed of lips, of eyes, even of a nose.
"Some sort of assassins?" Tristan checked the other and summoned both wands, bathing the bodies in a torrent of fiendfyre and scattering out the ashes. "Doesn't matter right now, Valeria needs me."
He disillusioned himself again and stumbled deeper into the Forbidden Forest over twisting roots and pinecones. He strained every sense to the limit, and yet caught nothing but the faint rustle of leaves and shadows that swirled and lurked behind thick tree trunks.
"Tempus," Tristan murmured. "Only a bit more than half left."
He picked up the pace, pausing only briefly when the distant thunder of hooves echoed from somewhere to his left.
'Centauri. They're proud and don't like questions but perhaps they know something.'
Trotting sounded from behind a gentle gradient and fewer interwoven branches above indicated there might be clearing. Tristan climbed the slope and carefully peaked over the edge into the dip that lay beyond.
A dozen centauri galloped around a large, rune-covered boulder. Their exposed upper bodies gleamed in the light of a fire and their whipping tails cast long shadows onto the three human silhouettes leaning against the bottom of the boulder.
'Valeria.'
Tristan leaped over the edge, abandoning his disillusionment charm.
"Human!"
The centauri reared back and stomped their hooves, snatching longbows from their shoulders and taking aim at him with sharp, stone-headed arrows.
"I mean you no harm." Tristan raised the hand carrying his wand above his head and staggered down into the dip.
The tallest of them, a black-haired and wild-looking one, shook out his long mane and cautiously trotted closer. "What is your name, human?"
"Tristan Peverell." He pointed at Valeria, who had her eyes closed in peaceful slumber. Her head leaned against a girl's, who looked nearly identical to Fleur. "The one in the middle is my sister. I came to take her back with me."
"I am Bane." The centaur watched him with narrowed black eyes and even trotted closer, speaking in a deep rumbling voice. "What are you doing in our forest, human? We do not hurt the innocent, but you are closer to manhood than a foal."
By now he were so close that Tristan had to crane his neck upward to look Bane in the eye
"I don't mean to intrude, I only have to complete a task for a tournament," he said calmly. "Allow me to take my sister and I'll be on my way again."
A younger-looking one with white-blond hair and a palomino body cautiously lowered his bow and broke formation. "He's one of the three Hagrid mentioned, Bane. We agreed to allow him passage."
"He said his name is Peverell." Bane kicked his back legs in anger, then reared and thundered his hooves, whirling up pines and leaves. "Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets? Have we not seen that his name is at the center of it all?"
"Battle approaches-," a third centaur pawed the ground nervously, "-and red will stain the pines."
"Battle approaches, red will stain the pines," the rest of the herd echoed in unison.
'I'd usually not put a great sort of faith into prophecies-,' Tristan tightened his grip on his wand and watched the rearing centauri warily. '-but blood has been spilled tonight already...'
"He might be at the center of it but the heavens are wary, and stars are shifting," Firenze said in his gloomy voice. "We centaurs will merely herald their words, sworn to never set ourselves against the heavens."
"Go then!" Bane scolded, galloping a quick tight circle around the boulder. "Take your sister, Tristan Peverell, and leave our woods."
The entire herd lowered their bows and trotted aside.
'Fucking finally.' Tristan hurried past the fire over to the large boulder in the center of the pit.
Valeria's eyes were closed; her chest rose and fell at a peaceful steady pace. Her skin looked unusually pale in the light of flames and her cheeks felt cold as ice.
"Don't worry, baby sister, I'm getting you out of here." Tristan applied a couple of warming charms on her and picked her up bridal style. "Just hold on nice and tight."
"Leave swiftly, Tristan Peverell." Bane charred his hooves up at the edge of the pit in irritation. "The stars foretold we shall never meet again. But remember our words: as battle approaches, red will stain the-"
A massive, black spike burst through Bane's hairy chest in a shower of red gore and pale ribcage. Something heaved his limb body high into the air and tossed him down into the fire of the pit, sending sparks flaring high.
Tristan's heart plunged to his stomach and he nearly dropped Valeria at the sight that bared him.
A gargantuan monster crawled over the edge of the hollow, rubbing two of its blood-drenched front legs together and clicking with razor-sharp pincers the size of rapiers. Half its fur-covered face was torn off; the remaining milky eyes stared down at him.
Furious clicking erupted everywhere and giant shadows crawled down the massive trunks at the pit's edge. A twitching mass of tangly black legs descended to surround them, swarming the herd before a single arrow was fired.
"What the fuck is going on?" Tristan clung Valeria tighter to his chest and edged back until his back met the boulder.
Terrifying screams and despairing neighs echoed from the pines. Anywhere Tristan looked, Centauri were grabbed by their limbs and torn apart or collapsed underneath furiously clicking pincers in bright sprays of blood.
The noise died down immediately once the last Centaurus stopped twitching and countless white eyes turned to stare at him.
"Peverell." The largest of them that had killed Bane limped down the slope on six remaining legs. "So, we meet again..."
'Of course it knows my surname,' Tristan sighed and grabbed his wand tighter. 'That never means anything good...'
"I don't think we've met yet."
"Oh, but we have," the Acromantula whispered, milky eyes holding his gaze without blinking. "I am Aragog."
"Sorry, doesn't ring a bell," Tristan said. "And I'm afraid I don't have time for a chat either. If you'd just let me pass quickly I'll promise that I haven't seen anything that happened here."
"Your bearer then perhaps. He smelled older than you do." The spider murmured, rubbing its pincers together. "It matters not. You're still of Peverell blood and so is the one you're carrying."
'This is a waste of time.' Tristan smothered a flare of annoyance. "My father is waiting by the edge of the forest, Aragog. If you want to talk to him I'll go and let him know where to find you."
"You're not leaving this forest, Son of Peverell, and neither will your sister," Aragog hissed. "My children could have easily taken her back to our lair already but we learned someone was sent to rescue her, and so we waited."
"I'm not my father." Black mist swirled around his fingers, cold as a glacier's stream. "I don't care about your quarrels. Solve them with him."
Tristan touched the tip of his wand to Valeria's back and enveloped her in protective charms until her skin burned hot through her clothes.
"I'm going to leave now, Aragog." He secured his hold on Valeria and took a tentative step forward. "If you or your children chose to become an obstacle, I will treat you like one."
"Take them, my children." Aragog raised his pincers. "Tonight we shall feast on Peverell flesh."
Furious clicking rose to an angry buzzing as a black-legged avalanche rumbled down the slope.
'Fine then...'
Tristan dropped Valeria and thrust the yew wand out, calling upon every last drop of the raw desperate hatred screaming in his breast.
'Be an obstacle.'
Roaring tongues of crimson fiendfyre spilled over the acromantulae like a blazing tidal wave, leaving nothing but charred limbs, thick black ash, and the stench of burned flesh in their wake. Tristan dragged his wrist around, burying any that had sneaked around him and over the boulder in a boiling inferno.
Fatigue crept into his limbs by the time they thought wiser. They fled in desperate panic, like mice from a cat, crawling back out of the hollow and up the high pines.
Tristan hurled Valeria's beaming smile into the fiendfyre, squashing the furious screams in her bright laughter. He took deep, trembling breaths and glanced up.
"Oh fuck."
Countless shadows loomed high in the branches above. The first spiders plunged down only a few feet from him. Black limbs snapped with loud cracks and still, they crawled toward him, hissing in rage.
Tristan dragged Valeria back to the boulder and forced his wand arm faster. Piercing hexes burst through white eyes, spraying the leaves and pines with blood and grayish guts. A black shadow lurched from above and searing pain exploded across his back.
He whirled around with a roar; ebony mist ripped apart the spider that had struck him and hissed at the one preparing to jump, swallowing it in a cloud of jagged fangs and crooked thorns.
Tristan tried to heave himself back up but exhaustion and pain crushed him like a wave.
'I can't die like this. I promised she'd be safe.'
He staggered back down to one knee in front of Valeria and clawed for his magic, hurling curses as fast as he managed while the fatigue bit deeper than ever.
The spiders retreated and regrouped by the far end of the pitch, swarming around Aragog who was clicking his pincers furiously.
'There won't be another miracle this time...' Tristan clutched his rips with a wince, coughing clumps of blood and drawing deep, ragged breaths. 'That's just not how it works... I'm all by myself.'
Light flickered in the corner of his eye and he whirled around.
Gabrielle Delacour began glowing as bright as the moon, right where she still leaned against the boulder next to Granger. She ascended gracefully and floated away with her eyes closed, sailing like a ragged doll that was held on strings.
Tristan tracked her course to the pines across the pit, a desperate yearning swelling in his breast.
"Fleur."
His stomach and heart gave a painful twist, tying themselves into tight knots while the breath slipped from his dry lips, despite not seeing anything but fleeting shadows.
"Fleur... please..."
Gabrielle's glowing silhouette vanished behind the edge of the pit. He counted the seconds but nothing happened. Emptiness clawed at his heart and the cold realization drifted to the forefront of his mind.
"She won't come for me," Tristan whispered.
A sheer endless tide of acromantulae crawled back down the slope again, their snapping pincers almost within reach yet somehow so far away. Wry humor tugged at the corner of his lips, threatening to spill in a burst of cold laughter.
"Because why would she?" He dragged himself protectively in front of Valeria and raised the yew wand, hardening his heart. "Fleur Delacour only cares about winning..."
'I'm sorry, Valeria.'
The nearest spider lurched with an angry screech.
Azure flames seared his vision in a blinding flash and scolding heat washed over him. Tristan shielded his face and frantically blinked his eyes back open.
A tall figure dressed in light blue twirled over the leaves and pines in front of him. Silver hair cascaded in a braid down the length of their back and brilliant flames danced in their open palm.
"Fleur," Tristan whispered, his heart lurching against his ribcage.
She thrust a slim, pale arm high into the air. "Fianto Duri."
A crackling beam of white light erupted from the tip of her wand, bursting over his head like fireworks and falling in a shimmer that surrounded them and the boulder like a cocoon.
The spider hurled themselves against the wall of magic, screeching, hissing, and thrashing with their pincers in mindless rage.
Fleur whirled around and ran summer sky-blue eyes up and down his body.
"You- you came," Tristan gasped past the hard lump that formed in his throat. "Why?"
Her face twitched and she crouched down "Where does it hurt?"
"My back," he grimaced, hissing when she immediately moved to lift his shirt.
"Vulnera Sanentur." The warm tip of her wand brushed over his skin a few times. "Vulnera Sanentur."
"That's better already." Tristan released a long groan as the pain eased.
He opened his eyes with a sigh, flinching when Fleur's blue iris smoldered barely a finger-length from his face. His nostrils caught a familiar whiff of sweet vanilla perfume that sent hot flutters down his breast.
"I cannot maintain the unyielding shield for much longer. Gabby is protected, but only as long as I live." A spasm of fear flashed over her pale features. "We need something to distract them... So we can escape without them hunting us down."
"That would have to be a rather big distraction," Tristan grimaced and accepted her hand, heaving himself back up on shaky legs. "I'm not sure I can-"
"Listen to me, Tristan." A hot hand cupped his cheek, warmth flooded his skin and spread down to his breast. "I didn't come back to die with you."
Her blue eyes bored into his, sparkling like stars in the night sky, then flickered down to his lips and a warm hand slipped into his hair. Fleur leaned forward and rose to her tiptoes, capturing his lips in a searing kiss that stole his breath.
"I meant everything I ever said to you," she whispered, fingers brushing down his jaw before she retrieved them and took a step back. "And I need you now. So go and be different. Pour moi."
Tristan drew trembling breaths, his pulse racing and heart pounding painfully. He tore his gaze away from her eyes and swallowed heavily. "Lower the shield on my sign and hold them off for a moment longer."
'She came back for me.' His breath slowly evened out whilst he spun the yew wand in a flood of cold black mist. 'The least I can do is be different for her. Be... great for her.'
Tristan clawed up every last thread of magic he could harbor and poured it all through the wood, feeling it grow so hot between his fingers that he thought it might burst.
"Now, Fleur!"
The shimmering wall of magic fell. Acromantulae toppled over themselves in a tangle of black limbs and jolted forward, bursting into bright azure flames the second they came too close.
Tristan moved swiftly between the volley of Fleur's spells and thrust his wand at a mountain of corpses. He forced his will deep through their thick fur, drenching them in his magic until they soaked in it and the effort ripped a feral groan from his lips.
A shudder flinched through some of the corpses and they writhed an eerie yellow glow. Blood-drenched white eyes reared in their sockets and they jerked back to life, dragging broken and snapped legs back into place.
'It worked.'
Unleashing ear-piercing screeches, the inferi hurled themselves at their living counterparts, tearing through their own kind like a deadly, spasming scythe.
The colony abandoned the attack and fought back, pincers clicking madder with each limb they yanked out of the undead only for it to reattach itself right after.
"That's a very good distraction." Fleur's warm breath washed over his neck. "We should make use of it, non?"
"Definitely." Tristan whirled back to Valeria and scooped her up in his arms. "Wait, what about-"
"-the other girl is gone already." Fleur traced her wand from the empty spot by the boulder across the pit. "Krum captured her with a lasso and dragged her through the ashes the moment I lowered my shield. Rather crude... but he'll be back first now so..."
Tristan stared at her. 'If Fleur Delacour doesn't lose, then why does she risk victory along with her life for me?'
Fleur held his gaze with calm blue eyes for a long moment. Twirling her wand over her head she faded from view.
"Right, let's get going." Tristan nodded quickly and mirrored her disillusionment charm, then hurried out of the pit, past screeching acromantulae, to where she had levitated her sister earlier.
Gabrielle Delacour leaned against one of the great pines, slumbering peacefully in a sphere of shimmering magic. Fleur reappeared in front of her and lifted her sister with a flick of her wand.
They cautiously crept back through the dense woods; Tristan sought the right track and Fleur covered their retreat, both wand tips lit as they studied the faint shadows that swirled around them.
"Why didn't you heal by yourself?" Fleur's whisper broke the silence, accepting his hand as he helped her over a fallen trunk.
'So she knows...'
Tristan ignored the prickle of unease crawling down his spine and quickly let go of her warm hand. "It was the venom, I think. I was healing, just much slower because it kept the wound open."
"D'accord," Fleur hummed.
'Why did you come back for me?' The question danced at the tip of his tongue, threatening to spill any second, yet each time he held it back.
Faint light began spilling through gaps in the branches above them and the pines grew less dense. The noise of a great crowd buzzed from where the forest cleared, revealing tall wooden stands.
"Tempus," Fleur murmured.
"We're still on time." Her eyes flickered over to him, an unreadable expression dwelling in their blue depths. "Barely."
"Go then." Tristan swallowed a heavy lump in his throat. "You first."
Her eyebrow quirked and the hint of a familiar smirk curved her full, red lips. "Even if it means you'll come in last?"
"I'll come in alive. That's more important" He struggled to hold her intense gaze, the shame burned on his skin as hot as fiendfyre. "And only thanks to you."
"Bien," she murmured and strode on. One last glance was cast back at him over her slim shoulder before she stepped out into the open to booming applause with her sister floating beside her.
"We're alive." Tristan waited another minute, then cradled Valeria closer to his chest and followed. "That's more important than some points."
Even with the dim, gray sky hiding the sun, he had to squeeze his eyes together as he stepped into the open. The crowd screamed and cheered, and countless feet stomped on every row of the tall stands.
Bagman's booming voice drifted straight past him. Tristan found his parent's easily amidst the crowd, both of them already climbing over the railing.
"You're fine," his mother sobbed tears of relief, yanking Valeria out of his arms. "Thank Morgana, you're both fine."
"No, it definitely wasn't thanks to fucking Morgana." Tristan leveled his father with a long look. "I met an old friend of yours in there. He was ever so happy to see us, he didn't want to let us go. Ever again."
His father's face fell and the happiness drained from green eyes, leaving them dull and empty. "I can explain. I promise I will."
"You fucking better." Tristan hissed, tossing his wand from one hand to the other before he moved to shove it back up his sleeve. "Valeria and I almost-"
A flash of red light rippled across the stands. Cherry red flames seared over his face in a ruffle of golden feathers and a soft, melodic trill.
Sharp, black talons snatched the yew wand from Tristan's grasp and shut tight, snapping it to splinters.