68 Chapter 68: KKK!

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If Harry's other attempt at cheating did not go well, then Loki would be able to remember Cedric's exact path.

Five minutes after Cedric had entered the maze, Krum was signalled to follow. Harry had also put a tracking charm on him.

Five minutes after Krum's entry, Harry was signalled to go in. He, however, did not go blindly sprinting in. No, he jogged calmly over to the side of the side of the maze where it was directly aligned with the centre.

Since the beginning of the task, he had been gathering his focus. Now, he released it into a spell of his own design.

He aimed his wand at the bracelet with a hammer charm hanging off it, and muttered, "Anaccio." Then he adjusted his aim to a point in the sky. "Anaccio Duo."

Immediately, he was yanked upwards at speeds which would have immediately dislocated and probably ripped off the arm of a human.

He soared through the air for mere seconds before he felt the spell end. With a flick of his wand, he adjusted his direction and was suddenly soaring downwards.

He managed to cushion his landing a moment before crashing into the floor, so that he instead impacted a bush, and then bounced to the ground. He groaned in pain.

"What the hell?" someone behind him murmured.

Loki quickly referenced the tracking charm. 'It's Cedric.'

Harry didn't bother looking behind him, instead relying on the tracking charm to make his aim accurate as he raised his wand behind him and fired a silent Stupefy.

He was rewarded by the sound of a body thumping to the floor. With another groan, Harry got to his feet and surveyed the scene around him. Cedric was sprawled on the floor, wand a foot from his hand.

And there, gleaming on a podium, was a shining silver trophy.

Harry grinned. "I am so amazing."

He wandered over to it and gripped onto the handle. Something yanked on his navel as the Portkey activated, the world spun, and suddenly he was in a graveyard with what appeared to be a bunch of KKK members who had forgotten which colour's supremacy they were meant to be supporting.

Harry swallowed and let the trophy fall from his grip.

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Loki was instantly alert. 'Anti-apparation wards are up,' he said. 'Judging by the robes and mask, these people are Death Eaters. There are fourteen of them around you; your options are—'

'I know,' Harry replied. 'Stay in the middle and hope that my reflexes are fast enough to make them hit each other instead of me, or get on the outside and do my best to disappear.'

'Which are you going to go for?'

'The former for a while. The second as soon as it becomes too strenuous, using our secret weapon as we do so.'

"So," Harry said, "I don't surprise this is all actually part of the task and you guys are actually KKK members who have dyed your robes in order to prank me."

They were silent and still, remaining with their wands pointed at Harry.

He sighed. "Do you guys even know who the KKK are? My jokes aren't very funny when no one gets them."

One of the Death Eaters stepped forward, carrying a bundle in his arms in the way one might carry a baby. Except this baby was hissing. "Harry Potter," it said. "Let me see him!"

Harry wasn't sure he wanted to see it. That belief was solidified as what appeared to be a snake-human crossbreed's aborted baby with red eyes was turned towards him.

The thing opened its mouth to speak, and Harry suddenly realised what—who—it was.

"Hang on a second," he said. "Are you Voldemort?"

The thing looked angry. "I am Lord Voldemort."

Harry couldn't help it. He sniggered, and couldn't stop. For five seconds straight he laughed, and then immediately straightened and sent a blasting curse at the ground in front of Voldemort.

As dirt was kicked high into the air, Harry was already spinning, his free hand unsheathing his sword from nothingness.

He darted forward, slicing a curse in half, and then someone's hand off, and then someone's head.

Immediately, he was throwing himself backwards, his senses screaming for him to dodge the sickly yellow curse which went on to hit another Death Eater.

"Do not kill him!" came Voldemort's shrill voice.

Harry didn't plan on offering them the same courtesy. Three icicles burst from his wand every second as he spun and dodged between curses, the vast majority of them missing or smashing against shields, but some found their targets, each marked by screams or gurgles.

He spun between spells, reflexes superhuman. With the Death Eaters wary about hitting each other—they surrounded him in a circle—he managed to dodge most spells.

The others, he could hopefully allow to hit: while he wasn't fully inhuman, stunning spells were designed to be just powerful enough to knock someone out without any further damage, and so they only made him drowsy.

Other spells didn't hurt him as much as a regular human, and at their lord's command, the Death Eaters weren't exactly throwing around strong spells.

Finally, someone acted smartly: they sent a spell Harry could not dodge or shrug off. A wall of force barrelled towards him and he only just managed to throw himself aside, but it still clipped him.

As he spun through the air, he was already reaching for his waist, pulling out the secret weapon he had developed.

With a surge of magic, it activated, and he hurled it forward, onto the ground where he had just been standing.

He crashed into the ground fifteen feet away and bounced, the dirt next to him exploding as a purple spell hit it.

Silently, Harry brought up a shield spell. Hastily erected, it blocked only one spell before a cutting curse nicked his arm.

And then the world exploded into a flash of light. Even as his eyes stung, Harry couldn't help but grin, knowing what was coming next.

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