novelcrest Chapter 504 The Labyrinth
Chapter 504 The Labyrinth
Chapter 504 The Labyrinth
this day.
It's the last week of May.
All the warriors received a notice to assemble that evening.
Since the second project ended in February, none of them had received any notification about the third project, and they had no idea what to do before that.
These are the only warriors left who have qualified for the third event:
Krum, Cedric, Selena, Cho Chang, and Harry.
However, this notification concerns all the warriors.
So, at 8:30 that evening, the group set off together and arrived on time at the other side of the Hogwarts lawn.
Quidditch pitches are no longer flat and smooth.
It appears as if someone has built countless long, low walls here, which are intricate and meandering in all directions, with no end in sight.
"What are you doing?" Cedric asked.
"I guess—" Harry's gaze swept over the intricate walls, "this is the test of the third project... the maze."
"A maze?" Selena repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Interesting. It seems this time it's not a test of speed, but rather a test of direction."
"I don't think it's that simple," Krum interjected.
"Hello!" a familiar voice interrupted. Everyone turned around and saw Bagman walking briskly towards them with his usual smile. He looked to be in a great mood, his excitement evident on his face.
"So, what do you guys think? Good progress, isn't it?" He gestured with his chin toward the maze. "In another month, Hagrid will have them twenty feet tall."
Seeing the slight displeasure on Harry and Cedric's faces, he immediately smiled and added, "Don't worry!"
Once the tournament is over, your Quidditch pitch will be back to normal!
His gaze swept over the warriors, he clapped his hands, and his smile widened: "Alright, I think you can probably guess what we're here to do, right?"
No one spoke for a moment. After a brief silence, Krum said, "The maze."
"That's right!" Bagman nodded excitedly, "It's a maze! The third project is very simple and clear: the Triwizard Tournament Cup is placed in the center of the maze, and whoever is the first to find it will get full marks."
"We just need to get through the maze?" Cedric frowned slightly.
“Of course it won’t be that easy.” Bagman blinked and said cheerfully, “There will be many obstacles—Hagrid has provided a whole bunch of cute little guys,” he deliberately drew out, “and some spells must be broken—things like that, you know.”
At this point, he put his hands on his hips and gently stood on tiptoe: "Also, the Warriors who are leading in points will be the first to enter the maze."
He smiled at Harry and Selena. "You two are ahead, so you'll go in first, followed by Mr. Cedric and Mr. Krum."
Furong frowned even more, but didn't say anything.
Bagman looked at the group and cheerfully concluded, "But you all have to give it your all to have a chance of success; it all depends on your ability to overcome the obstacles. It should be a lot of fun, right?"
Harry remembered Hagrid's criteria for "fun little animals" and his heart tightened—he was certain this match would be anything but "fun" as Bagman had described—but like the other champions, he nodded politely.
Bagman surveyed them with satisfaction, rubbed his hands together, and turned his gaze to the few eliminated warriors standing to the side. He said in a light tone, "As for you, you will be jointly responsible for designing the mechanisms in the maze—that is, setting the challenges."
The air fell silent for a few seconds.
Hibiscus raised an eyebrow, while Eileen crossed her arms and glanced subtly at the maze before her.
"————What do you mean?" Furong asked, puzzled.
"It means exactly what it says," Qiu Zhang explained enthusiastically. "You can still participate in the competition, although not as warriors."
Harry frowned slightly, a vague unease creeping into his heart—was it really appropriate to let the eliminated warriors design the obstacles?
Bagman, however, clapped his hands as if it were a matter of course: "Of course, there are certain rules for setting questions. You can't deliberately target a particular warrior, nor can you create unsolvable problems."
His gaze swept over the crowd, a meaningful look in his eyes: "However, what will be tested is not only your strength, but also your wisdom and agility. The maze will contain all sorts of challenges; some will require you to break spells, some will require you to find clues, and some—may simply be a test of your courage."
As Harry listened to these descriptions, his unease intensified.
"In short—" Bagman's voice rang out again, his tone as light and cheerful as ever, "you won't be disappointed."
He added a few final points, emphasizing the basic rules such as not harming warriors, not cheating, and not directly guiding others, before nodding in satisfaction. He rubbed his hands together and smiled, "Very good—if you have no further questions, shall we return to the castle? It's a bit cold here—"
Just as he was leaving, he suddenly remembered something and called out to the few warriors who had already been eliminated.
"Don't go back to the castle yet. Go find Hagrid and try to come up with a rough outline by tonight. The third project won't be long."
Fleur, Eileen, and the other two Beauxbatons warriors exchanged glances and nodded.
"Alright, let's go now." Furong sighed slightly, tightened her coat, and took the lead in walking towards the Forbidden Forest.
It seems—
Tonight's late-night snack event has to be cancelled.
Hogwarts at night is even more spacious and tranquil than during the day. A gentle breeze carries the scent of damp earth, and the distant lake reflects faint starlight. Occasionally, the rustling sounds of some nocturnal animal can be heard.
The group walked in silence for a while, and the atmosphere gradually became somewhat awkward.
"Don't you guys feel like the surroundings are getting more and more eerie?" Eileen said in a low voice, scanning her surroundings warily.
"It's close to the Forbidden Forest, and the surrounding trees block the moonlight, so it naturally looks darker," a Beauxbatons explained in a low voice.
Furong didn't speak; her gaze was fixed on a patch of grass in the distance.
It was pitch black there, but she seemed to have just seen something moving.
The group slowed their pace.
The night grew deeper, and the wind rustled softly through the treetops. An inexplicable sense of oppression hung in the air.
Just then, "plop—"
-
""
A man suddenly stumbled out from behind the bushes.
The group suddenly stopped and almost simultaneously raised their wands.
"I'm fainting—!"
Eileen quickly waved her wand, almost instinctively, and the spell was already on her lips.
"Don't attack him!" Fleur quickly stopped him. She had already recognized the man—he was Barty Crouch, one of the referees of the Triwizard Tournament and an important official of the Ministry of Magic.
But the Mr. Crouch before me had completely lost his former dignity and composure.
He looked as if he had been wandering for many days. The knees of his robe were torn and stained with mud and blood. His face was covered with old and new scars. He had a stubble beard, a pale and haggard face, and his hair was messy and stuck to his forehead, having lost its former luster. He looked as if he had been mercilessly swallowed up by the years.
But what's most bizarre is his behavior.
He seemed to be talking to someone, but that person—did not exist at all.
Crouch kept muttering to himself and making gestures, as if an unseen colleague was standing in front of him and he was giving instructions.
"Isn't he the referee?" Eileen asked suspiciously, staring at Mr. Crouch. "Isn't he from the Ministry of Magic?"
Fleur nodded, but her attention was completely drawn to Mr. Crouch. She hesitated for a moment, then slowly walked toward him.
Mr. Crouch did not look at her, but continued to mutter to himself to an unresponsive tree.
"—Wetherby, after you've finished this, send an owl to Dumbledore to confirm the number of Durmstrang students participating in the Tournament. Karkaroff sent word that there are twelve—"
Fleur's brow furrowed even deeper, and she cautiously began, "Mr. Crouch?"
But Mr. Crouch seemed not to hear, still absorbed in his own world.
"—Then send an owl to Mrs. Maxim, she might also want to increase the number of students, since Karkaroff's number has increased to twelve—let's do it this way, Weatherby, is that alright? Is that alright?"
OK----"
Suddenly, he staggered and fell to his knees with a thud!
"Mr. Crouch!" Fleur called out, rushing forward.
Crouch was breathing heavily, his eyes rolled back, and he seemed to have all his strength drained away. He knelt on the ground, his face deathly pale.
"What's wrong with him?" a Beauxbatons student asked anxiously.
"I don't know—" Furong answered softly.
Eileen's eyes were fixed on Mr. Crouch, and countless guesses flashed through her mind.
This appearance...it's not just ordinary fatigue or injury; it looks like a mental breakdown, even some signs of being under a curse?
In fact, Durmstrang occasionally has students who look like this—they're so frightened by the high-pressure teaching methods that they've lost their minds.
"Listen, you'd better go and call someone right away."
Before Fleur could finish her order, Mr. Crouch pounced on her!
"Dumbledore!"
He grabbed Furong's robe and pulled her sharply toward him, his fingers cold and trembling as if he had grasped at the only straw—but his eyes were not focused on Furong, but stared straight at some empty point above her head.
"I want to see Dumbledore!"
Fleur steadied herself: "Yes, Mr. Crouch, as soon as you get up, we'll go look for it."
However, Mr. Crouch's eyes suddenly became even more frantic.
"I did something stupid."
He spoke breathlessly, his voice broken and fragmented, as if each word required immense effort. He looked completely insane, his eyes bulging outwards, darting around restlessly, drool dripping from his chin, a pathetic sight.
"You must—tell—Dumbledore—"
Mr. Crouch's gaze finally focused on Fleur's face, staring at her stiffly.
"Who are you?" he asked in a low voice.
"I am a student at Beauxbatons," Fleur answered cautiously.
Mr. Crouch stared intently at Fleur, his lips slightly drooping, as if he were deep in thought.
"You're not—his person?"
"no."
Fleur frowned; she had no idea what Mr. Crouch was talking about.
"Is he one of Dumbledore's men?"
“No,” Fleur said, “but I know where Dumbledore is.”
Crouch's eyes suddenly changed, and he abruptly reached out and grabbed Fleur's robe, pulling her closer and holding onto her fabric tightly, as if she would vanish into thin air if he let go even slightly.
"A reminder to Dumbledore—"
Fleur struggled free from his grasp while continuing to ask, "If you let me go, I'll go find Dumbledore." She looked exactly like a kindergarten teacher trying to persuade a child to eat candy. "Let me go, Mr. Crouch, I'll go find him." However, in the next second, Mr. Crouch's expression suddenly relaxed, and his previously frantic eyes instantly became empty and unfocused, completely losing the urgency he had just displayed.
"Thank you, Weatherby. I'd like to have a cup of tea after you've finished that. My wife and son will be here soon; we're going to a concert with the Fudges tonight."
He abruptly loosened Furong's collar, his expression dazed. His gaze went past Furong's shoulder and turned to a nearby tree, where he began to talk incessantly.
Even his voice suddenly reverted to a rigid, bureaucratic tone, even carrying a hint of stiff arrogance, as if he were still the arrogant Director of the Department of International Magical Cooperation in the Ministry of Magic, rather than a madman who stumbled and fell in the grass in the dead of night.
Furong was so surprised that she was stunned for a moment and didn't realize that he had already let go of her.
"Yes, my son recently passed all twelve common wizarding exams with very satisfactory results. Thank you, and yes, I am indeed very proud of him. Well, if you could get me the memo from the Minister of Magic of Andorra, I would probably have time to draft a reply—"
Furong snapped back to reality and immediately realized that he was completely immersed in his own illusion.
He's crazy.
Suppressing her shock, she quickly turned to Eileen and the others, saying rapidly, "You stay here with him!"
"What?"
"I'll go get Dumbledore!" Fleur said decisively. "I used to take classes at Hogwarts Castle, I know where his office is, it'll be faster!"
Without waiting for anyone else's response, she suddenly turned and ran towards the castle.