Green is the Color || Ominis x OC || Hogwarts Legacy

Of the Pursuit of Victory: III

One hour and thirty minutes.

There was only one hour and thirty minutes left before the deciding task of the Triwizard Tournament.

There was a thick, palpable tension all over Hogwarts. A steady rush of bodies was pouring out of the castle, moving down the path to the boathouse and its surrounding waters. The aerial bleachers hovered there now. A trio of extra gilded boxes had been added today: one was painted black and brown, the other in white and blue, and the final one colored in black and silver. The rest of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons' Professors—along with a handful of their students—had joined the audience today. Among them were Ministry Officials: finely dressed, black-robed, and ever so imposing. The students who'd already made it to the bleachers gave that section a three-foot berth.

Just past the boathouse's dock, three massive structures had been built. Tall stone towers, standing at nearly a hundred feet, stood partly underwater. They were surrounded by a sturdier barrier of light—a shaded set of benches held a large group of Aurors, all had their focus on the structures.

Gryffindor Tower was mostly deserted by now. Several of its students had left, no doubt making their way down to the docks. Garreth stood in wait by the base of the girls' dormitory stairs. His hair was done up in pigtails that held ribbons of green and silver. Streaks of paint were on his cheeks: red, green, blue, and yellow, each stripe representing a Hogwarts house. Garreth's arms were also laden with a heap of snacks.

Hogwarts' number one cheerleader groaned. "GIRLS!" he bellowed. "What's taking so long?"

"Hurry up, Allegra!" Natty was saying, up in their dorm. "What's all the fuss?"

"It's bloody freezing out there—I'm not going out without my gloves!" Allegra said hotly. Her hair was left undone today, hanging down to her waist. "Look, why don't you two just go ahead? Save me a seat."

Natty huffed. "Fine," she said, "but don't come crying to me when you get scared of being left all alone up here."

Allegra, who had been searching under her bed, paused to scowl at her roommate. "You're the best friend ever, Natty, really. Such a saint."

"Of course I am," Natty spat. "Catch up, then!" She promptly turned to leave, coat flying behind her.

It took Allegra another ten minutes to find her gloves. Sliding them onto her hands, she paused to check her appearance in her mirror. She took a moment to fix the bracelet around her wrist. With one last look around the room, Allegra pushed out of Gryffindor Tower.

As she ducked out of the Fat Lady's portrait, Allegra's first sight was a pair of black-clothed Ministry Officials hovering by the end of the hallway.

"Good day, Miss Chant," one of the officials said cheerfully. "Goodness, we almost thought you weren't coming."

"Good day," Allegra said slowly. She paused. She took a step backward, hand hovering over the wand in her pocket. "I—sorry? Coming where?"

"Let's get to it, dear," The other official said. "Game's almost starting."

With a wave of the official's wand, Allegra suddenly found her knees buckling. She collapsed onto the floor, caught just in time by one of the officials.

"Oh, sorry, love," the official said. Their voice was garbled, muffled by the ringing in her ears. "All part of the Tournament."

The Tournament? A heaviness settled over her body. Panic rose in her chest. Allegra struggled to move, trying to push herself up to her feet. She opened her lips, but nothing came out, and her body felt as if she'd been pinned under a ten-ton weight. Her vision was starting to turn black. The official hefted her into his arms. With limp hands and clouding senses, the last thing she saw was her wand being taken away and a gloved hand gently drawing her eyelids shut.