Harry Potter and the Prince of Slytherin

Chapter 13: The Quidditch World Cup (pt 6)

The Devil's Tor

As soon as the crackling nimbus of Wild magic that had surrounded Pettigrew's ritual finally died down, the other two Death Eaters rushed to join him. Miss Direction pulled several vials from Pettigrew's box.

"Here, Peter," she said. Behind her, Mr. January's eyes narrowed at her concern ... and her use of Mr. Norvegicus's first name. "Drink these. Blood-Replenishing Potions. And a Pepper-Up."

"Quite right, Norvegicus," January said blandly. "Your job's not done until the Cup's back in place."

Peter sneered at the other Death Eater. "I ... know m'job, January," he said weakly. "Jes' gimme a sec."

Then, he grabbed Jim's wand and tossed it to the other man. "In the meantime, perhaps you should make yourself useful. Get that back to Jim Potter. Oh, after you clean my blood off it, of course. I assume that's within your ... capabilities."

Crouch caught the wand easily. "I think I can manage," he said with a growl before turning and Apparating away.

Peter laid back on the rough stone of Devil's Tor and let the potions do their work while Narcissa looked down upon him with an expression of what might have been concern. Or perhaps just feigned concern. He knew all too well that it was impossible to tell the difference with her.

"You know ... I think Mr. January might be feeling the pangs of jealousy," he said weakly.

"Don't be silly, Pettigrew," the woman chided. "He is a consummate professional. Why? Are you feeling jealous of him and the time we've spent together while doing our Lord's work?"

Pettigrew sneered. "Just hand me the Goblet and the toy mouse, witch. I've one thing left to do before I can crawl into bed and sleep for a week."

The British Sector

"You almost ready, Brother Mine?" George asked anxiously as he fired another Stunner. Luckily, the dark-haired girl (one of the Greengrasses, he thought) had an adequate shield spell, good enough at least to cover George while Fred hastily threw together some already-prepared potion ingredients he'd tossed into a bag before they fled the tent.

"Almost!" He reached into a pocket and pulled out a wrapped piece of candy which he tossed to Hannah. "Unwrap that, would you please, Abbott? And kindly don't eat it. It's meant for someone else."

Dumbfounded, Hannah did as she was told while Fred added the last ingredient. Meanwhile, Daphne recast her shield while George ducked down to grab a stick which he quickly transfigured into a hand catapult. Fred grabbed the candy—some kind of soft chewable with a yellow frosting shell—and dropped it into the vial in his hand. He stoppered it and then shook it vigorously for a few seconds.

"Right!" he said as he handed the vial to George. "Here's hoping I really am the smarter twin!"

George slipped the vial into the catapult's pocket and took a quick peek over the barricade to get his bearings. Then, he jumped up and shot the vial towards the attackers. It smashed against the barrier they were hiding behind and exploded into a yellow mist. There was the sound of loud coughing followed by three loud chirps.

"What was that?" Daphne asked.

"A Canary Crème modified into a gas form."

"A ... Canary Crème?! What is that supposed to do?"

They were distracted by the sudden sight of three very large canaries taking wing and flying up into the sky.

"Okay," Daphne said. "Ask a silly question. How long does it last?"