Tri-Ferret Tournament - The Second Task, Submissions Options

[Department_of_My...]

The Second Task

Lurking somewhere at Project Ferret is a clever creature. Awaken it and you'll be asked to solve one of a handful of riddles of varying difficulty. Each riddle solved will give you a mission for your second task. You can solve them all, if you like, and chose the mission that pleases you most. Your riddle giver will happily give you a hint if you ask, but be warned! Each hint comes at a price.

Be sure to give your submission a title. Use bold text to highlight your mission requirements and include your mission at the end of your submission, as you did in the first task. Again, please end this round's chapters in such a manner that they may be concluded in the third task.

Post your submissions in this topic by Midnight Central on Friday, November 18th.

[nundu]

IN TO THE DEPTHS

‘C’est impossible.’

The book flew across the room, hitting the wall in a flutter of pages released from their binding. Fleur stood to pace the floor again, running her hands jerkily through her hair. The stack of books on the table was intimidating, but the pile of discards littering the floor was higher. The afternoon’s thin winter light had long since disappeared from the windows set high in the walls. The torches burning along the walls cast menacing shadows through the seemingly endless rows of tomes.

Surely, somewhere in all of these books, Fleur thought, there had to be a clue. She had been spending most of her days pouring over volumes, thick and thin, to no avail.

A deep booming gong sounded, signalling the end of the day’s lessons and the beginning of the supper hour. Fleur looked back at the table and sighed. She would have like to have taken the unread books back to the carriage, but the hag ruled the library with an iron fist, and would never entrust a ‘foreigner’ with one of her precious books. With a flick of her wand, Fleur banished the books, watching them zoom hither and thither, searching for their proper homes. Hopefully, she would be able to find them all again tomorrow.

Fleur gathered her quill and parchment rolls, stuffing them unceremoniously into her school bag, slung the bag over her shoulder and marched out of the library, ignoring Madam Pince’s glare.

Supper was the least favourite of her meals here at Hogwarts. Everything she had ever heard about English cooking was true. Granted, they were in Scotland, but obviously the influences in the kitchen were English. Boiled meat, boiled vegetables. Mon deau, they even found a way to boil fruits. Coarse, dark breads. She missed her mother’s deft hand with delicious, light sauces over carefully seared meats and crisp, steamed vegetables. She would kill for a plate of fruit and cheeses with a glass of wine to finish her meal.

Fleur rounded a corner at the bottom of a narrow flight of stairs, to be startled by two young boys hurrying through the corridor. They appeared to be as surprised as she, because they threw themselves against the wall and mumbled what they must have felt were apologies as she sailed past them. Fleur gave them no more that a passing glance, long enough to wonder what made the gangly, goggle eyed one think he should wear a Gryffindor House scarf when it so obviously clashed horribly with his violently red hair.

By the time Fleur entered the Great Hall she had regained her accustomed composure. She glided down the aisle toward her schoolmates, absorbing the admiring stares of the besotted boys and deflecting the hostile glares of the envious girls. As she slid into her seat her classmates leaned into her to discuss in intense whispers her findings of the day. They, like she, were disappointed and promised to continue their own research on her behalf.

At last, the meal ended. Madame Maxime rose and as one her students rose in acknowledgement. They remained standing as she regally swept past them. They fell into line behind her, following her to their home in these cold, windswept mountains.

The warmth of the carriage was welcome after the biting cold. Stoles were discarded as students grouped in chairs and couches near the fire. Madame Maxime gestured for Fleur to join her on a small settee separate from the others.

‘Oui, Madame?’

‘Was your day productive?’

‘No, Madame. Again, I found nothing useful.’

‘I see.’

‘Madame, I have only two days more to prepare for this task. I fear I will fail.’

‘Non! You will not fail. I have one more resource. I will pursue it tomorrow. You will accomplish your task. You will represent Beauxbaton with pride. You will show these Englishmen…’

‘Oui, Madame. J’comprende.’

~*~

Once again the supper gong found Fleur in the library. The stack on the table had diminished, but the pile on the floor was still a sign of the futileness of her search. Her nose was buried a thin volume titled ‘Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them’. She had scanned the pages searching for any reference to water creatures. The only listing for a freshwater creature was a ridiculous being with the ridiculous name of a Plimpy. She couldn’t see the need for a spherical fish with long legs that merpeople seemed to enjoy torturing. Once again Fleur’s long white, blonde hair showed the ravages of a long frustrating day. A hoarse bark of throat clearing made the seemingly unflappable girl jump. Madam Pince was peering at her over the glasses perched on the end of her long, hooked nose.

‘The gong has sounded, girl. Best get on with you. Library’s closing now for non-Hogwarts students.’ She seemed to take great pleasure emphasising in the last phrase.

Fleur repacked her school bag under the librarian’s watchful glare. She stood up and drew her wand, pointing them at the books as if to banish them. She looked once more at the sneering witch, and repocketed her wand. ‘Let her put them away’, Fleur thought viciously. ‘A non-Hogwarts student might not do it right’. With a gleam of triumph in her eye at Madam Pince’s snarl, Fleur headed for the Great Hall.

~*~

Settling herself onto Madame Maxime’s settee once more, Fleur looked expectantly at her headmistress.

‘Well, it took more than one pint of ale, but I have found the secret.’

The rest of the evening was spent in a quiet, whispered huddle.

~*~

The morning of the twenty-fourth of February dawned crisp and cold. Fleur woke early, but felt rested. She had a through plan in mind. She rose and dressed carefully, finally drawing a long cloak from her trunk. No need to freeze to death before she had begun.

Breakfast was mistake. The buzz of excitement in the Great Hall only served to bring a bout of nerves that Fleur thought she had successfully shed. Suddenly Dumbledore was asking the Champions to report to the judges’ table at the edge of the lake. Fleur, Krum and Cedric rose as one and filed out followed by a line of officials.

With the cloak wrapped tightly around her, Fleur kept her eyes cast to the ground as she silently recited her plan. She shivered. She did not know how much was to do with the cold or the upcoming task. Far too soon, they were lined up along the bank of the lake. Madame Maxime was standing beside her, murmuring words of encouragement and reminders. A wand exploded with a bang and Fleur realised with a start that it was the signal to enter the water. She dropped her cloak, withdrew her wand, touched it to her head and quietly cited the incantation. Immediately she felt a blanket of warmth envelop her. It had worked. She had cast a spell to insulate herself from the frigid waters. A second spell followed that formed a bubble of clean, fresh air around her head. She was ready. She stepped into the water, and with one last glance at her headmistress, standing on the shore, wringing her hands, Fleur waded into the water and disappeared beneath the surface.

~*~

The murky water seemed alive with creatures. Small darting silver fish flashed into view and were gone a moment later, swallowed by the swirling silt and waving fronds of plants that seemed to beckon her deeper. Where could she find it? In a lake this deep, it could be anywhere. Fleur swam deeper, using long, strong strokes to propel herself rapidly. As she skimmed just above the dark green kelp she felt a sharp pain in her ankle. She jerked around and peered at her feet, surprised by the horned, pale-green creature whose long fingers had a firm grasp on her ankle. She shook her foot, but the demon held tight, sinking it’s sharp teeth into her ankle. Fleur screeched and slapped at the vicious being, but rather than being deterred, the little devil was joined by three more of it’s brothers, all pinching and biting at her failing appendages. For a moment, Fleur thought all was lost, then in a last desperate measure, she pulled her wand, pointed it at her own foot, said a small prayer that she wouldn’t damage herself, and shouted ‘Relashio!’ All but one of the Grindylow released her when the hot stream of bubbles hit them. One hung on determinedly. Fleur gave one final kick and felt the fiend release her. She rapidly pulled herself upwards, away from further threat.

The tumult must have attracted the merpeople, for as Fleur swam rapidly forward, she found herself facing a rank of spear-bearing creatures that looked nothing like the Mediterranean sirens she had studied. She pulled herself up, treading water and weighing her chances against them. One against twelve seemed very poor chances. She didn’t like the looks of the Lobalugs the females were carrying. She knew one jet of the venom they could squirt would be the end of her. Just when she thought she had met her end, a haunting melody began to surround her. The merpeople formed a corridor and began to gesture her forward. Fleur swam hesitantly towards the leader, who kicked off signalling her to follow. Fleur sped through the water, encouraged on by the unearthly song. The chief merchieftainess waved her past, pointing towards the darker centre of the lake. Fleur understood. What she was seeking was in that direction. She threw a kiss of thanksgiving in the direction of the guardian and continued, slightly missing their companionship.

A school of darters startled her. Their quick, unorganised movement told her they were fleeing a threat. Fleur sped up, heading from whence they had come. A loud thrumming noise became gradually audible. Fleur’s heart beat faster. Her quarry was near, she knew it.

The lake bottom was scattered with enormous boulders, remains of the great glaciers that scoured out this tiny island millions of years before. As Fleur rounded one of these massive rocks she saw it. It hovered just above the lake floor, it’s tentacles gently flowing with the current. Its movements had a rhythm. Several small waves of movements followed by a spurt of motion made the noise Fleur had heard and propelled the creature. The intelligence she had said the creature was harmless, but considering the source, she hadn’t been sure. Now, seeing the behemoth lazily skittering along the rock littered floor, Fleur recognised it as a gentle giant.

Fleur kicked herself forward, slowly as not to startle the creature. She knew she was safe when it began to follow her with one inky black eye, yet made no motion towards her. Fleur glided along the long leathery flank, stroking and cooing. She settled herself near the creature’s eye and began a dance as old as mankind, crooning words not heard since the beginning of time. The creature began to sway with Fleur’s rhythm, watching her graceful hands as she caressed the long arms. They began a hypnotic dance. Girl and beast, echoing the ancients. A jet of ink burst forth, propelling the beast forward, enveloping Fleur in its darkness. When the water had cleared, Fleur was gone.

~*~

The observers on the banks of the lake were becoming restless. The hour assigned to the tasks had passed, with no sign of the champions. The judges were huddled together in frantic conference. Parents and friends of the competitors were wringing their hands and anxiously searching the surface of the lake for some sign of their loved ones.

‘Look!’ a young voice called.

The surface of the water was roughening. The Durmstrang ship was rocking on its moors. A great upheaval erupted near the bank and the tangled tentacles of the Giant Squid surfaced.

‘Ah,’ announced Ludo Bagman. ‘Mamoiselle Delacour appears to be ready to make her presentation to the judges.’ His bias was unmistakable, but a swift glance from the petite Madame Delacour cut short any editorial he might have been planning. He had learned of her formidable temperament following the first task and had no desire to experience it first hand.

The onlookers searched the surface for Fleur, but there was no sign of her. The Giant Squid began to rock to and fro, seemingly to an unheard song. It’s tentacles remained twisted as the great beast began to twist and raise the tentacles from the water. Just as it looked as if the creature would thrust it’s way out of the water, the tentacles unfolded like the petals of a flower, revealing Fleur, standing in the midst, unruffled and smiling an enigmatic smile.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

HARD RIDDLE

Your task is to build from A Tri-Headed Tooth-Ache in 1000 to 3000 words.

TASK:
Fleur's box reveals that the second task will involve capturing the Giant Squid and teaching it something which it must demonstrate to the Judges. Fast-forward to the second task, which takes place at the end of February. Describe her preparation, journey to the squid and the performance for the judges. Did she have help? How does Bagman behave throughout this?

Include:
a Gryffindor house scarf
a pint of ale
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, by Newt Scamander