Let The Dark In

3

On the day of the First Task, Hermione is retrieved from the Great Hall by Professor McGonagall just as lunch is finishing. They walk briskly from the castle, down the stone steps that lead towards the Forbidden Forest. McGonagall is uncharacteristically silent, as if she isn’t quite sure what to say. Hermione’s used to her head of house being taciturn but she’s never known her to be at a loss for words, and the silence between them adds another layer to Hermione’s sense of unease.

They come up over a hillock and Hermione is greeted by the sight of a towering wooden stadium that has seemingly been built overnight. Somewhere beyond or inside the stadium comes a blood-curdling roar, unlike anything Hermione has ever heard.

McGonagall freezes and turns to look at Hermione. “Miss Granger, you are – an exceptional student. I expect you’ll make Hogwarts proud.”

Hermione’s mouth goes dry, but she manages to nod. She’s been in a haze of cold dread since the moment she woke up that morning. Her chest feels as if there’s a boulder resting in the middle of it, crushing her, and with every step towards the stadium, the oppressive weight just grows.

There’s another roar. It seems to rend the air apart.

“I’ll do my best,” she says.

McGonagall looks at the stadium, then back towards the castle, and clears her throat. “It is my belief that creativity is often as valuable as skill. I have never found you lacking in either of those things. If there is any champion who will never fail to surprise, I expect it will be you.”

McGonagall nods to herself several times and indicates a large tent set up along one side of the stadium, several hundred feet from the entrance. “The Champions Tent. You will enter it, receive instructions about the upcoming task, and remain there until your name is called. I will be watching from the stands with the rest of the professors, and – there are experts, I have been assured of this, who will be there to ensure the safety of the Champions should anything go awry.”

The knot in Hermione’s stomach eases marginally at this news. “Thank you, Professor.”

She goes into the tent and finds it arranged with cubicles in the colours of the different schools. She goes into the one for Hogwarts and finds some treacle tarts, a jug of pumpkin juice, and a platter of fruit that she is too nauseous to even think of helping herself to.

Her mind's busily cataloguing all the potential creatures that could be making the noises coming from the stadium.

She hears the snap of canvas and goes back out to find Bisset entering. He looks rather ashy and less self-assured than usual in his pared-back but still elegant and just a bit obnoxious Beauxbatons blue uniform. It is strangely comforting to know that she isn’t the only one who’s nervous.

Then the tent flap is flung open, and Malfoy bursts in. He immediately stops short once he’s inside, giving a quick sigh like he’s relieved and maybe thought he was running late. Hermione and Bisset both stare at him.

He looks more harried than nervous, and Hermione wonders idly if it’s because Pansy and the fan club had apparently “escorted” him all the way from the ship. Although she can’t imagine how he can be more concerned by his fan club throwing flowers at him than the sounds that keep coming from the stadium.

She has a growing suspicion about what’s making them, and her hope that she’s wrong about it keeps dwindling with every passing moment. Her heart keeps pounding harder and harder, and her palms are growing damp. She rubs her hand surreptitiously against her robes.

Outside of the tent, she can hear a crowd - the audience - gathering. The ground is almost vibrating from the approach; excited voices chattering and the creak of hundreds of footsteps fill the air as they ascend the steps of the stadium outside.