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HP: From Failed Art Student to Dark Artist of Hogwarts - 307
🕑 Added 2025-12-13 14:14:57 +0000 UTCChapter 307: Trust in Your Friends’ Courage! Final Boss – The Stone Queen of Hearts!
Fred had already been knocked out again by that last strike.
The shimmering barrier of his Protego Shield Charm shattered, breaking into points of light that faded from the air.
Cedric stared at the looming black shape that had turned its horse and was now pacing toward him, unhurried and relentless.
His breathing quickened.
His mind went blank.
How was he supposed to defeat something like this? A monster in human form?
Impossible. Completely impossible.
"Are you all right?!"
The urgent shout yanked him back to himself.
He jolted and turned his head.
Harry was sprinting toward him down another passage. That earlier cry of "Look out!" had been his.
"Harry!"
Cedric pushed himself upright on instinct.
He did not want anyone to see him sprawled in the dirt.
"What is that thing?" Harry blurted. "Is Ethan actually trying to kill us?"
One look at the glaive, almost half as tall as a person, had already frozen his blood.
His imagination had no trouble providing the image of himself sliced clean in two.
There was no time to think.
Clatter. Clatter.
The scrape of armour drew closer, steady as a heartbeat.
Like a giant about to squash a bug.
The horse’s pace was so calm, so utterly unconcerned.
Cedric was tall and well-built by Hogwarts standards.
Next to the black knight, he looked like a boy beside a man.
He was not even as tall as the warhorse.
"Krum is already through," Cedric said, voice tight.
"I do not know why he has not taken the cup yet, but we do not have time to waste."
He tightened his grip on his wand.
In the space of a heartbeat, he made his choice.
"Harry, take Fred’s wand and send up a distress flare. I will hold this thing off. You get past it."
Harry started. "But you—"
Cedric cut him off.
He raised his wand and levelled it at the oncoming knight.
"Go, Harry!" he shouted.
"We cannot let Durmstrang beat us."
"…Do not worry."
His smile was stiff but confident. "Once I have chopped this tin can down to size, I will meet you inside."
Two seconds later, Harry’s expression hardened.
He nodded once.
He snatched Fred’s wand and fired a red flare into the sky.
Then he ran straight at the knight blocking the path.
Before the Tournament, he and Cedric had barely known one another.
Now Harry could trust him with his life.
Danger had forged a bond.
Ethan had already taught them that.
The warhorse reared, front hooves lashing the air.
The knight’s gauntleted hand closed on the glaive.
He thrust, the motion smooth and vicious, driving the blade straight at Harry’s chest.
"Confringo!"
The red spell struck the helmet dead‑on and burst with a bang.
For an instant, the knight’s movement hitched.
It was all Harry needed.
He dropped and rolled.
The glaive’s edge skimmed over his scalp.
In a single breath, he was past the knight, scrambling up again and sprinting down the narrow passage ahead.
Victory belonged to Hogwarts—and to the Morning Star Club.
The warhorse’s iron hooves crashed down.
The knight turned, ready to give chase.
A second spell flared against him and stalled him again.
"Your fight is with me," Cedric said hoarsely, wand raised.
Sweat slid down his temple as the towering knight stilled.
He had let two of them slip by.
Now he turned his helmeted head toward Cedric.
Smoke curled from the impact marks on the metal, but there was no damage.
Empty darkness stared out at Cedric.
The air grew heavier.
Black mist seemed to coil more thickly around the knight’s armour.
The glaive’s point scraped along the ground with a grinding hiss, leaving a narrow groove in the earth.
The warhorse snorted and stepped forward.
Step by deliberate step, the knight closed in.
He would cut Cedric down.
Cedric shut his eyes.
He drew a long breath in, then let it out slowly.
When he opened them again, they were steady.
His job was simple.
Fight.
Keep the knight here.
Buy his friend time.
Magic surged through him.
It flooded down into his wand.
Light glowed at the tip, then thickened, stretching, changing shape.
At last he held a greatsword formed entirely of light, nearly two metres long and semi‑transparent, its edge humming with power.
It moved like a feather in his hands.
A casual flick sliced clean through a thorny branch.
Scarlet rose petals drifted down around him.
"Ethan, this is the magic you taught me," Cedric said quietly.
"Now I am going to use it to win."
He fixed his gaze on the knight’s advance and raised the sword in both hands.
A second skin of magical armour wrapped around him.
His palms were slick, his heart hammered in his chest.
But his thoughts were calm.
The moment he wrapped his fingers around the hilt he remembered.
No matter how terrifying the Darksoul Knight seemed, no matter how unbeatable he looked, he was nothing compared to Ethan in training.
"This is our bond!" Cedric roared, charging to meet the glaive.
He trusted his years of practice.
He trusted every ounce of muscle in his body.
They would not fail him.
"Let us see what kind of body you have under all that armour," he shouted, "and whether it has been forged as hard as mine."
Steel met light with a ringing crash.
Elsewhere in the maze, Harry flinched at the sound of metal on magic.
He glanced back, worried.
The thorns twisted together behind him, blocking the view.
He could not see a thing.
"Cedric will be all right. He will beat that knight," Harry told himself, gripping his wand tighter.
"And my job is to stop Krum and keep him from taking the cup."
He turned and ran on.
Once again, he could not help marvelling at Ethan’s tournament design.
Every task was "exciting."
And every one had taught them courage and trust.
Ethan’s unnerving side tended to overshadow his frightening brilliance.
Harry stumbled out of the narrow corridor at last, panting.
The sight that met him made his jaw drop.
A colossal statue towered over a wide clearing.
The upper body alone was as tall as a house.
It was a girl in stone.
A crown rested on her head; a great, wheel‑shaped ruff framed her face.
Her heavy hair had been sculpted into the shape of a heart.
She bowed her head, both hands pressed flat to the earth.
Beneath her chin, where her gaze fell, a ring of stone formed a pool.
It was bone dry.
Viktor Krum stood before the statue.
His back was to Harry as he said slowly, "Ethan really has left no loopholes."
"The cup is hidden. Looks like the only way to get a clue is to beat the knight outside."
He turned.
A bloody gash ran across his face, oozing down his cheek.
It made his features even more savage.
"But I think," he went on, "it is much easier to force answers from someone who has already beaten the knight."
He levelled his wand at Harry.
Madness flickered in his eyes.
"Do not blame me, Harry."
"The one who takes the cup—the one who defeats Ethan Vincent in front of everyone—"
"Will be me."
"You should look behind you," Harry blurted.
Krum, wound tight with nerves and urgency, felt the gust of air at his side.
He half‑turned to see what it was.
The stone palm caught him full-on, like a wrecking ball.
He flew like a cut kite, slamming into the ground again and again in a series of bone‑jarring thuds.
He finally came to rest, limp and still.
The statue had moved.
One vast marble hand still hung in the air where it had swatted him aside.
Harry hissed in sympathy and squinted.
"That was brutal."
Trust Ethan to hide two bosses in one task.
Wait.
He broke off, staring up at the enormous figure as it ground and creaked, slowly straightening.
From where it stood, it sat at the very heart of the maze.
Which meant—
It had to be stronger than the Darksoul Knight.
The knight had been an elite monster.
This was the true boss.
"Is it too late to go back for Cedric?" Harry thought wildly.
The corridor behind him was now nothing but knitted thorn.
A scream like tearing metal ripped through the air.
The ground shook.
The stone girl threw back her head.
Thick, tar‑black liquid poured from her blank eyes like oil and splashed into the dry pool at her feet.
At her chest, where her heart would be, a knot of black mist began to churn.
"Wait…"
Harry frowned.
There was something familiar about that darkness.
It looked a lot like the Obscurus from the second task.
