Demigods at Hogwarts | the rescue mission ✔

47| Defeated by Shoelaces

Percy's POV

  The fact that the maze was a duplicate of the Labyrinth brought back some bad memories. Being twenty feet high, it towered above all of us in an intimidating manner as it contracted  and moved in random patterns. I knew that my competitors were forming a detailed strategy by the way their eyes were shifting around restlessly. Fleur was chugging down a bottle of Gatorade as if it would guarantee her the Cup—she'd no doubt purchased the energy drink off the Hogwarts black market run by Muggle-borns.

  For them, the Triwizard Tournament was a one-in-a-million chance to bring glory to their own schools. The demigod instincts that kept me focused in combat kicked in, and I could feel my eyes burning with intensity. Annabeth made me whole, and every fibre of my existence depended on her love.

  The spectator's stands were overflowing with both students and the family members of my fellow champions. Old habits re-emerged as I silently surveyed them, just to make sure they weren't monsters in disguise. But the looks on their faces reassured me that they were parents—they wore anxious expressions, but their eyes shone with pride. This was the same look my mom would have whenever I embarked on a quest.

  I couldn't be distracted by thoughts of sentimentality at this moment. Bagman pressed the tip of his wand against his lips, muttering "Sonorus" as his voice instantly amplified. The crowd was getting restless by the time he'd stated the rankings of the champions—I was tied with Harry and Cedric in first place—so he set down his wand and picked up a bright orange whistle.

  He blew the whistle feebly, then sent a series of blue sparks in the air to compensate for the weak blow. I dived into the maze at lightning speed, the gentle summer breeze now a full gale roaring in my ears. I was so used to charging into battle on my pegasus, I'd forgotten how running was a form of full-body-meditation. I was so pumped up with adrenaline as I tore down the dirt paths, consistently turning right just because I felt like it. And I felt like the old me again—the invincible son of Poseidon who chose his girlfriend over immortality.

  My heartbeat wasn't the only thing pounding in my ears as beads of sweat rolled down my forehead, signalling that my energy being used up. Annabeth's name had become my personal mantra, and it seemed to energize me every time I felt the need to take a break.

  I made a mistake by tripping over my shoelaces and stumbling towards the ground. I moaned softly as I inspected my grazed elbow—the injury was small and insignificant, but the dirt over the wound made it sting like hell. I shivered as the old feeling of being watched resurfaced—was it just me, or had the temperature significantly dropped?

  That was the moment I knew I wasn't alone.

  A seventeen-year-old girl was standing barefoot two yards away. She was wearing a sleeveless white dress which made her delicate curves stand out. Her translucent skin glowed serenely in the pale moonlight, and her chocolate brown curls cascaded over her shoulders. I wouldn't have recognised her if she hadn't had such distinctive eyes—they were a stunning shade of cerulean, containing so much depth and unconditional love.

  "Silena," I whispered, hardly willing to believe what was unfolding before me. Maybe I was hallucinating, but her pure and genuine smile comforted me the way Annabeth used to. She nodded happily when she heard her name spoken, and I dared myself to take two steps forward. The direction of the wind shifted and I breathed in her scent—an intoxicating mixture of coffee and chocolate. The whole situation felt surreal as my fingers brushed against her waistline...

  Rumbling thunder penetrated the still air around me, followed by a sudden crack of lighting that illuminated the starless night sky. Silena let out an inhumane scream as her white dress vanished, replaced by Celestial bronze armour stained with dried blood. Scarred by drakon poison, her sickly yellow skin and disfigured face would be a constant reminder of the demigods who'd sacrificed themselves for me.

  Her blue eyes were the only facial feature which remained unchanged, but they were now filled with sorrow and heartbreak.

  I was running again, away from the memories that would haunt my sleepless nights. The tears in my eyes clouded my judgement as much as it clouded my vision, and soon I was completely blind in more ways than one. I didn't notice the sparkling golden mist in front of me until I was submerged in it.

  The mist glued my feet onto the ground, rendering me helpless as I struggled to move. Silena had long vanished from sight, but the maze seemed to have a mind of its own. You're not an innocent twelve-year-old boy who can outrun your fears anymore. I'd never consumed alcohol before, but I supposed this what what being drunk felt like—losing your coordination, slowed reflexes and disorientation, blurry vision.

  The golden mist started to solidify, materialising into another seventeen-year-old girl. Ariadne's carmine red hair fell into cinnamon swirls, and her lips were pale pink and glossy, intricate and fragile at the same time. She betrayed no signs of emotion, and her eyes were two dark voids compared to the soulful emeralds they once were.

  Unable to move my lower body muscles, my stomach knotted as I was forced to make contact. Ariadne flashed me a Chesire cat smile and ran her fingers gently through my hair, sending goosebumps down my spine. "I love you, Percy," she said condescendingly as a pathetic whimper escaped from my mouth. She wrapped her arm around my shoulder—it wasn't something society would consider a violation of privacy, but it was suffocating.

  Ariadne obviously sensed this, laughing maniacally as she raised her hands in mock surrender. "You win, Jackson," she whispered, pressing her index finger against my lips. Her expression fell when she saw my fingers curled protectively around Riptide—the golden mist prevented me from further movement, but she looked like I'd stabbed her in the gut repeatedly.

  "If that's what you want," she spat, her despair converting into delusional rage in a split second.  I'd first noticed Ariadne because of her bubbly and casual demeanour, and right now she was anything but. She drew out her wand and pointed it to her throat, her eyes narrowed as she quietly mouthed something. I didn't recognise the Latin phrase until it was too late.

  Avada Kedavra.

  The golden mist swirled around Ariadne's body until it dissolved in a blinding flash of green light. Ariadne's body lay in an awkward angle on the ground, and her skin had already been drained of all its colour. She'd committed suicide because I was in love with someone else, and I was the one who'd ultimately destroyed her.

  I was too busy blaming myself to notice icy blue trophy 200 feet away, and the two teenage boys sprinting towards it.