The rain pounded against their heads, the cold seeping into their bones.

The lightning faded, and darkness swallowed their surroundings once more.

A deep, gut-wrenching chill froze them in place.

Had that moment just now... been an illusion?

Since when had such a dangerous, merciless Dark wizard appeared in Britain?

Another thunderclap rolled through the sky, and a flash of lightning illuminated the small graveyard again.

The sight remained unchanged.

That same figure.

The same field of corpses.

The same lifeless infant, lying cold and still.

Not an illusion.

"Gulp!"The sound of them swallowing was deafening amidst the heavy downpour.

They were officers from the Improper Use of Magic Office.

Technically, this should have been handled by the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, but the sheer scale of the Weather Charm was too large—it covered an entire town—and all the Aurors had been sent to Hogwarts.

So, the task had fallen to them.

AWeather Charm, in most cases, wasn't a particularly dangerous magical event. It was just... troublesome.

It usually happenedindoors—many wizarding households cast Weather Charms on their ceilings for ambiance.

Seeing oneoutsidewas rare.

And when it did happen, it almost always meant one thing—a young wizard's accidental magic surge.

Because of that—

They hadvolunteeredfor this assignment, eager to escape the tedious, mind-numbing boredom of night duty at the Ministry.

A Weather Charm?

How bad could it be?

Now—

They wanted nothing more than toslap themselves.

Volunteer?

Of all the things they could have done, whythis?

No one else in the Ministry was stupid enough tofightfor work. Why hadn't they just gone along with the usual slacking off?

This was their punishment.

Never volunteer for work.

They finally understood the wisdom of their older colleagues.

If—justif—they made it out of this alive, work could go tohell.

The rain washed over them.

They looked at each other, barely a meter apart. Even in the near darkness, they could see the terror in each other's eyes.

They nodded.

A moment later—

One of them turned andran.

The other raised his wand.

"You—Dark wizard inside the graveyard! We—We arenotafraid of you!"

"We're elite Aurors from the Ministry! Surrender at once!"

Smack!

The one who had turned to flee tripped and fell flat on his face.

He scrambled up, staring in shock at his partner.

What the hell are you doing?

That was amass murderer! At leastdozensof bodies, including ababy!

Did hereallythink the Ministry wasintimidatingto someone likethat?

Evennormalwizards weren't afraid of the Ministry!

What were the odds aDark wizardwould be?

They weredead.

Completelydead.

Harry flicked his wand.

The storm settled, the rain easing, the wind dying down.

He muttered,"Lumos Maxima."

A bright white light flared, illuminating the scene.

The corpses.

Theinfant.

All of them coated in a pale, ashen glow, making them appear even more lifeless, like cold, grayed-out remnants of existence.

Silence.

The entire world wassilent.

Not a sound.

The one still on the ground trembled violently, limbs weak, unable to rise.

The other, still standing, flinched, his feet slipping in the mud—he collapsed with athud.

"You—what are you going to do?" The fallen officer stammered.

"We're—We're with the Ministry!"

"We're students of Professor Dumbledore!"

"You know Dumbledore, right? Thegreatestwhite wizard alive! He's defeatedtwoDark Lords!"

"Oh! And—and Harry Potter! The one whokilledYou-Know-Who! We'refriendsof his—!"

They shouted, putting every ounce of energy into their voices, as if the names alone could ward off the looming death before them.

The "Dark wizard" laughed softly.

Their blood ran cold.

He wasn't afraid?

Not even of those two names?

"I don't recall ever being friends with either of you," came the low, amused voice.

Their minds blanked.

They froze in place.

Dumbstruck, they watched as the "Dark wizard" lowered his wand slightly, letting the light shine fully on his face.

Black hair.

Sharp, handsome features.

Amber, cat-like eyes.

Harry Potter.

Their relief never came.

Instead,a new level of fearhit them.

They weredone for.

TheBoy Who Lived—theSavior of the Wizarding World—theHeir of Gryffindor—

Hadfallen to the dark.

This was allRita Skeeter's fault!

Why had she written all those articles attacking Potter?!

And now—

"Don't look at me like that," Harry said calmly.

"I'mnota Dark wizard."

"I was acting inself-defense."

"At leasttryto use your brains."

"Then again, Iamassuming Ministry employeeshavebrains."

"Tonight was supposed to be the final round of the Triwizard Tournament. Normally, I shouldstill be at Hogwartsright now."

Something clicked in their heads.

They hesitated.

Thatwastrue.

Butthen why—?

"Which means this isnotnormal," Harry said, twirling his wand. TheTriwizard Cupfloated in the air beside him, slowly spinning.

"Someone cursed the Cup. Turned it into a Portkey. They kidnapped me here."

"They tried tokillafifteen-year-old boy."

One of the officers hesitantly muttered, "A... priest?"

"No," Harry shook his head.

He flicked his wand again.

The Anti-Apparition Jinx lifted.

"Go back. Inform Fudge. He needs to come to Hogwarts."

"As forthis—"

Harry's gaze swept across the graveyard, pausing briefly on the tiny corpse in the chair.

"Do either of you have a bag with an Undetectable Extension Charm?"

They shook their heads.

That kind of thing was reserved forhigher-ranking officials. Not nobodies like them.

Harry sighed.

He pulled out a worn leather pouch—the same one he had once used to store Sirius's motorbike.

With a flick of his wand, the infant's corpse levitated andvanishedinside.

The bag had been sitting unused for months.

The Sorting Hat preferred its new "body" and hadn't returned to the pouch in ages.

"Go back. Tell Fudge toimmediatelycome to Hogwarts."

Another flick of his wand.

TheTriwizard Cupshot into his hand.

The Ministry officials nodded frantically.

Harry's fingers barely grazed the Cup—

The Portkey's magic was still active.

A sharp pull hooked onto his navel, twisting him through space—

And in the blink of an eye—

He was back inside the maze.

—

Panic gripped Hogwarts, but the Triwizard Tournamentcontinued.

They couldn't afford full-scale chaos.

And more importantly—

The Ministrycouldn't afford the humiliation.

They hadtriple-checkedthe Cup. They hadpersonally confirmedno enchantments had been placed on it.

Yetsomeonehad done so—right under their noses.

If this got out, their alreadyterriblereputation would collapse.

Most importantly—

If theycanceledthe Tournament,all bets would be void.

Ludo Bagman had spenttoo muchtime andtoo muchmoney on this.

Acanceledgame meant losinghalfhis profits.

Unacceptable.

So, he made an announcement:

"This was part of the final challenge! The Cup's true test! Only by passing could onetrulyclaim victory!"

Dumbledore and Karkaroff were gone.

Snape and Flitwick were missing.

They wereinvestigating.

If things went badly, theywouldcancel the match.

Krum and Fleur had no idea what had happened.

They were still setting traps.

And then—

Harrylanded.

Gryffindor roared in shock.

Ludoinstantlylatched onto the moment, his voice light and cheerful again.

"Harry Potter hasreturned! He haspassedthe test!"

"He issafe!"

"He's soaking wet, so it looks like he had anunpleasantexperience underwater!"

The Gryffindors erupted into cheers.

Hermione and Petunia both exhaled in relief.

"Harry's safe?" Petunia's voice trembled.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, but we still need to—"

"Ah-ha! Are allwizardsthis incompetent?" Vernon suddenly had the energy to yell again. "Iknewit!"

—

At the judges' table, Ludo Bagman's excitement was cut short.

He glanced at his watch.

His stomach dropped.

"Potter—Potter took too long!"

"He spentover thirty minutesinside the Cup's test!"

"Now, he only haseight minutesleft to get the Triwizard Cup out of the maze! If he doesn't, his total time will exceed anhour!"

Many students, caught up in Bagman's frantic energy, began to tense.

But soon, they realized—

Wait.

There wasn't atime limiton the third task.

What did itmatterif Harry took over an hour?

Wasn't thewinnerjust the person whoretrieved the Cup?

Bagman looked miserable, his hands clenching into fists as he stared at the floating projection.

If Harry finished within the hour, Bagmanwon.

But if Harrydidn't—

Bagman wouldlose money.

—

Inside the maze, Harry moved quickly.

Following the same path back, he retraced his steps toward the exit.

It had takeneighteen minutesto reach the Cup.

It only tookfiveto return.

Bagman's eyes lit up.

"Three minutes left!"

"As long as Krum and Delacour's traps don't delay him for three minutes, Iwin!"

—

Inside the maze, nothing stood in Harry's way.

The Sphinx was gone.

The magical creatures had vanished.

Even theplantsseemed to shrink away from him.

Finally, he reached a fork in the path.

He stopped.

Ahead—

Fleur's magic.

He flicked his wand.

Two small rocks twisted and transformed into rabbits.

They hopped forward—

And thetrapactivated.

A wave of frost erupted, instantly encasing the rabbits in ice.

They weren't dead—their eyes still twitched in terror—but they were completely frozen.

Harry stepped forward.

There wasanothertrap ahead.

Fleur might have Veela charm, but shewasn'ta seasoned hunter.

Her traps were sloppy.

Too obvious.

They sat in the exact places oneexpecteda trap to be placed.

She might as well have put up asignsaying:

"Trap ahead! Step here!"

If anything, a signmighthave workedbetter.

For Harry, they were no obstacle.

He easily navigated through them.

Bagmanfist-pumped.

"YES! That's our Potter!"

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