Being His Daughter

The Maze

As the weeks dragged into months and the third task inched closer and closer, I still hadn't talked to Junior. I had finally twisted my head and emotions into thinking I was really just mad at him because he went against what I said in the forest, not because I was still shaken about what he had done. No, I had gotten over it... for the most part. Sometimes during the night, though, instead of the highly anticipated dream with my father that never came, I would wake up sweating and shaking after seeing Crouch's dull eyes with the knife sticking out of his chest, Junior's smile looming through my mind.

On the morning of the third task, I was moody. I had been expecting my father to come into my dreams and tell me something. Maybe wish me luck or tell me I was powerful or anything really. Just something. But he hadn't. Also, like the second task, I wasn't. All I could think of was what I wanted to be able to do inside the maze: get Harry to the Cup and to the graveyard...where he would be killed.

I gripped onto my fork tighter, trying not to shudder at the thought. I was half dreading it, but I was more excited than ever. My father would come back and we would rule the Wizarding World...
But Harry would die...
But we would rule the Wizarding World. That's all we'd wanted to do since I was born—

"Love?" Draco asked. He had his hand on my leg, and I hadn't even noticed until he squeezed it and made me look up at him. I had a piece of bacon hanging out of my mouth and I quickly grabbed it and tossed it back onto my plate, wiping my mouth.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, are you?"

"No." His hand trailed up my leg and then to my hand, where he gripped onto it.

"What's wrong?" My voice cracked so I coughed.

"You know what's wrong," he mumbled.

"Well is there something wrong that I can fix?" I asked, nudging his shoulder.

"You can fix it—"

"Don't even start," I warned.

"Hey," Theodore cut in, leaning forward and grinning at me from across the table, "Sierra's got this though. Right, Rid? You got through all the other ones just fine."

Thoughts of my torn open arm and throwing up water into the Black Lake flashed across my mind, making me grimace. "Sure," I grunted. "Just fine."

"You almost died," Blaise commented.

"I know that, I was being sarcast—"

"Riddle," someone said from behind me. I tensed up before slowly pivoting my body around. Snape was staring down at me. "Good luck today. I'm sure all of Slytherin will be rooting for you."

"Yeah," Blaise said, "to beat Potter."

Jalen smacked his arm.

Snape's lip curled upward but he didn't respond. He kept his eyes on me as he said, "I was told to inform you that the families of the champions have been invited to come and watch the third task. They're all in the chamber by the staff table. When breakfast is over, all the champions will meet them in there."

"Wait," Draco cut in. "You're telling me my mum and dad are in there?" He pointed over to the door at the other end of the hall where I had gone the night my name came out of the goblet.

"Yes, Malfoy," Snape said. "You can talk to them later, but not right after breakfast. Only champions are permitted at this time." Snape looked back at me. "After breakfast," he repeated. I nodded my head and then he swooped back up the table.