Chapter 269: "A Race Against Time"

With Fleur by his side, Harry felt his nerves finally settle. His mind started to clear, and his instincts kicked into gear now that the immediate danger to Fleur had passed. They had only minutes before Charles reached the cup, and they needed to act fast.

"Right," Harry muttered, turning to Fleur. "Something sinister is going on, and we need to either catch up with Charles or finish the task so the rules break, and others can intervene to find the culprit."

Fleur nodded, her wand still at the ready as her eyes scanned their surroundings. "What do you propose?"

Harry's eyes lit up as an idea struck him. He quickly traced a series of complex wand movements in the air, and within moments, a tall cylindrical object sprouted from the ground and extended above the hedges. The contraption was topped with angled mirrors, and the audience watched in fascination as the magical construct gleamed in the dim maze light.

"What is zat?" Fleur asked, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"A periscope," Harry explained quickly, as if it were obvious. "It's a Muggle invention that lets you see over things you normally can't. Works similar to the mirrors above us right now. Thought it might be useful here."

"Ah," Fleur murmured, intrigued but not fully understanding. She watched as Harry adjusted the mirrors with a few more flicks of his wand and then peered into the device.

The audience was riveted, their murmuring growing louder as Bagman, barely understanding what Harry had created, tried to explain to the crowd. "Our young Mr. Potter has conjured up a… well, I'm not quite sure, but it seems to let him see above the maze! Ingenious thinking!"

Harry scanned the maze through the periscope, sweeping it side to side. The device gave him a bird's-eye view of the labyrinth, revealing all the paths and obstacles. He also quickly found the targets he was looking for—the Triwizard Cup and a moving figure: Charles.

"Found them," Harry whispered. "The cup is just ahead, and… Charles is on a good path. If we don't hurry, he'll reach it first."

Fleur's expression tightened with determination. "Zen let us move."

They set off at a brisk pace, Harry leading the way as he mentally mapped out the quickest route from what he had seen. They worked seamlessly in unison, their combined skill cutting through the maze's obstacles with efficiency. A swarm of dangerous insects descended upon them, only to be driven away by Fleur's expertly cast fire spell. A Blast-Ended Skrewt blocking their path was dispatched by Harry in seconds.

The audience watched in awe, held in suspense as obstacle after obstacle fell before the pair's combined strength. The mirrors above them captured every moment, and the crowd's excitement grew as they witnessed the champions' unwavering teamwork.

---

As they rounded the last corner, their destination almost in sight, Harry's instincts screamed a warning. He quickly cast a strong gust of wind down the path ahead of them, and to Fleur's surprise, the spell tore away an invisibility cloak revealing a grizzled man with mismatched eyes and a sneer—Barty Crouch Jr., masquerading as Mad-Eye Moody.

"Moody? No! You can't be Moody. He wouldn't interfere in the tournament." Harry declared, narrowing his eyes. "Who are you? Are you the one who sent me the threat and Imperiused Krum?"

"Well, well, Potter," Crouch Jr. sneered, his voice dripping with false amusement. "I wasn't planning to show myself so soon, but for my Lord's plan to succeed, it seems I'll have to sacrifice myself to stop you."

The magical mirrors captured the scene, and the audience murmured in confusion and alarm. Bagman's voice faltered as he tried to maintain his enthusiasm. "It seems Mr. Potter has… come across another challenge? Is that Professor Moody?"

Harry played along, acting confused. "Your Lord? What does your lord want with Charles?"

Crouch let out a low chuckle. "Oh, Potter, always so clever, but not clever enough. You won't get anything out of me. My job is just to delay you. Let's see if you're as good at dueling as they say."

"Just you?" Harry scoffed. "If you were the real Moody, maybe you could stall me. But you? I don't think so."

With that, the duel erupted. Harry began with full force, focusing on speed rather than power, knowing he had to conserve strength for what was to come. His spells struck rapidly, pushing Crouch into a frantic defensive stance. Fleur joined in, launching her own attacks to support Harry's assault.

Crouch's grin quickly vanished as he found himself fending off a barrage of coordinated spells. The magical mirrors displayed every movement to the audience, the intensity of the duel rippling through the stands. Gasps and shouts echoed as spells ricocheted off the maze walls.

Crouch relied heavily on the magical eye he had stolen, using it to deflect Harry and Fleur's spells. But despite his efforts, he couldn't keep up with their relentless assault. His defenses crumbled under their combined attacks, and with a final "Petrificus Totalus!" from Harry, Crouch fell to the ground, paralyzed.

The duel had barely lasted a minute. The crowd above let out a collective sigh of relief, their anxiety momentarily lifted.

Harry strode over to Crouch's paralyzed form, pulling a familiar flask from the imposter's pocket and throwing it aside. "Polyjuice Potion," he muttered, disgust evident in his voice.

Harry guessed that Moody must be with Crouch Junior somehow since that was the only way Crouch could have fooled the Marauder's Map. He patted down Crouch's other pockets, his fingers closing around a small trunk.

Enlarging it with a flick of his wand, Harry opened the trunk to reveal the sound of someone struggling inside.

"Let me out!" came the muffled voice of the real Mad-Eye Moody.

The audience gasped in horror as the mirrors revealed the trunk's contents. Bagman's voice faltered as he tried to make sense of the scene. "Well, that was an eventful few minutes, and I cannot process what has happened. Hopefully, our judges will take over from here. It appears our champion has… discovered something rather concerning…"

---

Harry knew he had to chase after Charles immediately, but he also needed to make sure Crouch couldn't escape or harm anyone else. In a moment of inspired punishment, he cast a few well-placed spells—an itching charm and a tickling charm.

"That should keep you busy," Harry muttered darkly, recalling Crouch's earlier threats against Fleur. Who said only dark spells could be used for torture? Light spells, when used in creative ways, could do just as much harm.

Turning to Fleur, Harry said, "We need to stop Charles—he's walking into a trap."

Fleur nodded and readied herself. "Zen let us hurry."

---

Harry's heart pounded as he raced through the maze, his surroundings blurring into shadows and greenery. He hoped Charles had not taken the cup already and portkeyed away. That would complicate his plans.

As Harry and Fleur rounded the last corner, the straight path to the cup became visible. The Triwizard Cup was there, shining just a few meters ahead. But they weren't alone. Charles was just feet away from the cup in front of them.

Seeing Harry and Fleur, Charles quickened his pace, his eyes locked on the cup.

"Charles, stop!" Harry shouted, "It's a trap—"

But whether Charles didn't hear him or chose to ignore the warning in his eagerness to win, he reached out and grabbed the cup.

Instantly, the world seemed to twist, and with a rush of wind, Charles vanished, whisked away by the cup-turned-portkey.

Harry and Fleur skidded to a halt, reaching the spot just seconds too late. They stood in front of the empty pedestal where the Triwizard Cup had been.

In the stands, the audience was frozen in stunned silence, the mirrors reflecting only an empty space where the cup once sat. Charles had disappeared, and unlike what the organizers had announced, he did not magically appear in front of them.

Charles Potter was gone.