(Gilderoy Lockhart)
Saturday, June 24, 1995
The day of the Third Task had finally arrived.
After months of dragons, freezing lakes, political headaches, near-death experiences, and entirely too much paperwork...
The Triwizard Tournament was reaching its conclusion.
The Quidditch pitch had undergone yet another spectacular transformation.
Gone were the goalposts and the familiar green field where generations of students had broken bones in pursuit of sporting glory.
In their place stood an enormous hedge maze.
Its towering walls rose nearly twenty feet into the air, formed from thick, dark green hedges so dense that even magical light struggled to penetrate them. The branches intertwined unnaturally, shifting ever so slightly despite the complete lack of wind, giving the whole structure the unsettling impression of being alive.
I knew exactly who was responsible.
Hagrid.
And I had to admit… The man had outdone himself.
Over the past several months, under my exceedingly competent guidance, he had blossomed into a genuinely capable professor. His confidence had grown tremendously, and while he still possessed a worrying tendency to describe carnivorous monsters as "friendly little fellas," he had finally learned to distinguish between interesting creatures and appropriate classroom material.
More importantly...
This maze was impressive.
The hedges had been carefully enchanted to regrow almost instantly if damaged, preventing any particularly creative champion from simply blasting a tunnel straight through the walls.
Inside lurked a variety of magical obstacles.
Nothing genuinely lethal, I had insisted upon that repeatedly.
But certainly unpleasant enough to make the champions earn their victory.
Manticores had, naturally, been vetoed before Hagrid could even finish suggesting them.
The poor man had looked positively heartbroken.
The stands surrounding the pitch were packed to overflowing.
Parents.
Ministry officials.
Foreign delegations.
Students from all three schools.
The atmosphere buzzed with anticipation.
Banners bearing the crests of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang fluttered overhead, charmed to remain aloft despite the summer breeze.
Ludo Bagman was already making theatrical gestures near the judges' platform, undoubtedly rehearsing his opening speech for the fiftieth time.
Some people practised spells before important events.
Bagman practised enthusiasm.
I, meanwhile, enjoyed considerably better company.
Aurora sat to my left, elegant as always in deep sapphire robes that complemented her dark hair beautifully.
On her lap sat little Gienah.
My daughter had inherited her mother's Metamorphmagus abilities, and at that very moment her hair was cycling through colours with every new emotion that crossed her tiny face.
Blue as she looked around curiously.
Gold when she spotted me looking at her.
Bright pink when I tickled her cheek.
I smiled.
It never got old.
Rosmerta sat beside Aurora with little Gilderoy Junior sleeping peacefully against her shoulder despite all the noise.
My son had inherited my magnificent blond hair, though Rosmerta insisted it was hers.
On my other side sat Tonks, who had finally managed to escape the mountain of paperwork that had kept her buried at the Ministry for months.
The moment Gienah noticed her mother, she immediately stretched both tiny arms toward her.
"Mama!"
Tonks melted almost instantly.
"Oh, come here, you little troublemaker."
Aurora laughed as she handed Gienah over.
The little girl immediately buried herself against Tonks' shoulder before reaching back toward me with one hand.
"Dada!"
I took that tiny hand with all the solemnity it deserved.
"There we are. My favourite little witch."
Tonks smiled. "I thought I was your favourite witch."
"You all are."
I pointed at Gienah. "But she's my favourite little witch."
"Acceptable answer."
Rosmerta looked down at the sleeping baby in her own arms and chuckled. "They're going to keep us busy for years."
"I know." I smiled despite myself. "And somehow I don't mind."
Behind us came an exaggerated sigh.
"You know," Sirius said mournfully, "some people would call this showing off."
I glanced over my shoulder. "My dear Sirius. Envy is an ugly colour on you."
"I am not envious." He shook his head.
"No?" I raised a brow.
"Not in the slightest." He folded his arms. "I enjoy my bachelor life."
"So you keep saying."
"I do!"
Then he began enumerating with his fingers. "No nappies. No babies crying in the middle of the night. No wives conspiring together."
Rosmerta smiled sweetly. "We don't conspire."
Tonks nodded. "She's right, we only coordinate, which is completely different."
Aurora added calmly, "Conspiring implies malicious intent. We're considerably more organised than that."
Sirius looked at the three women.
Then at me.
Then at the two children.
"...You're all terrifying."
"I've been saying that for years," I replied.
Aurora nudged my arm. "And yet you married us anyway."
"I never claimed to be a sensible man." I shrugged.
Sirius looked at the children, then at my three wives, and finally at me.
"...I still prefer being single."
I smiled knowingly. "Keep telling yourself that."
He opened his mouth to reply…
Then froze.
His eyes had wandered toward the entrance to the stadium.
"...Oh."
I followed his gaze.
A rather attractive witch from the Ministry had just entered the stands.
Without taking his eyes off her, Sirius cleared his throat.
"...Purely appreciating the scenery."
I grinned. "Of course you are."
Aurora laughed.
Rosmerta hid a smile behind her hand.
Even Tonks snorted.
Sirius muttered something about everyone conspiring against him as the roar of the crowd suddenly swelled.
Ludo Bagman had stepped onto the platform.
It was finally time for the champions to make their entrance.
…
The roar of the crowd grew louder as the champions finally emerged from the preparation tent.
Ivan Karkaroff was the first to appear.
The Durmstrang delegation erupted immediately.
"Ivan!"
"Durmstrang!"
"Our champion!"
The older students stamped their feet in unison, creating a rhythmic thunder that echoed throughout the stadium.
Ivan acknowledged them with nothing more than a small nod before calmly taking his place beside the maze's entrance.
If the prospect of entering an enchanted maze filled with dangerous creatures bothered him in the slightest, he certainly didn't show it.
I watched him thoughtfully.
He really was an odd young man.
Always too controlled.
Almost like an old man…
Then again, perhaps that was simply the result of Durmstrang's famously strict education.
Next came Fleur Delacour.
The reaction was... considerably more chaotic.
The moment she stepped into the sunlight, the male population of the stadium exploded into applause.
Whistles.
Cheers.
Someone in the upper stands actually shouted, "Marry me!"
Meanwhile...
The female half of the audience reacted rather differently.
Boos immediately mixed with the applause.
Several girls folded their arms indignantly.
Others glared openly.
One Hufflepuff sixth-year loudly muttered, "She knows exactly what she's doing."
Another shot back, "you're just jealous because your boyfriend hasn't stopped staring at her all year."
"I haven't!" The boyfriend tried to defend himself.
I couldn't help shaking my head.
Poor Fleur.
It wasn't exactly her fault she'd been born part Veela.
Still...
Watching half the stadium wage a gender war every time she appeared was becoming strangely entertaining.
Fleur herself paid absolutely no attention to either the cheers or the boos.
She simply smiled politely and walked toward her position with all the effortless grace of a princess attending a royal banquet rather than a life-threatening magical competition.
Then...
Harry emerged.
He hurried out of the champions' tent while trying to straighten his already crooked robes with one hand and unsuccessfully flatten his untidy hair with the other.
An impossible task.
I was fairly certain not even industrial-strength Sleekeazy's Hair Potion could keep that boy's hair under control.
More interestingly...
His collar was slightly crooked, and he wore the unmistakable expression of someone who had been smiling only moments earlier.
I raised an eyebrow. "...Well."
Aurora followed my gaze. "You noticed too?"
"Indeed. I suspect Mr Potter received a considerable amount of... encouragement before the task."
Rosmerta smiled knowingly. "From Miss Granger?"
"I would wager my favourite gryphon-feather quill on it."
Behind me, Sirius burst into laughter. "That's my boy!"
He slapped his knee proudly. "I taught him the same moves I taught James."
I turned slowly to look at him. "...You taught James?"
"Of course." He nodded proudly.
"You expect me to believe James Potter needed dating advice from you?"
Sirius opened his mouth.
Paused.
Then pointed accusingly at me. "That's beside the point."
"It is very much the point. And if James had followed your advice, I doubt he would have ever gotten Lily to marry him. The same goes for Harry, Hermione would have already dumped him if he listened to you."
Aurora covered a smile with one hand.
Tonks outright snorted.
Even Rosmerta laughed.
Sirius looked thoroughly betrayed. "I come here to support my godson… and instead I get bullied."
I patted his shoulder sympathetically. "That is because you make it so easy."
"I'm not too late, am I?" Remus arrived just at that moment and took a seat besides Sirius.
"No, you arrived just in time, Moony, now tell them that my dating advice is the best," Sirius asked for help from his friend.
Remus shifted awkwardly under our gaze and said, "Well, I did manage to get a date once using his advice."
"See?" Sirius looked smug.
"Then she slapped me, threw butterbeer in my face, and stormed out halfway through the date because I kept following his advice…" Remus added with a smile.
Sirius's smile slowly disappeared.
We all laughed.
Before Sirius could formulate an appropriately dramatic complaint, the thunderous voice of Ludo Bagman echoed across the stadium once more.
"Ladies and gentlemen..."
He spread his arms toward the three waiting champions.
"...our Champions are ready!"
The cheering rose to an almost deafening crescendo.
The Third Task was about to begin.
…