Harry Potter and the Bucket List

Year 4 - 9

Beta: Cloudy

Trigger warnings, if you're sensitive or in a bad mind state already: proceed with caution.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

It came too suddenly.

I knew what had to be done, really, I understood it.

Power of Plot had proven too strong for me to overcome on my own. Lily and James still died, Quirrel still got possessed, the diary was still given to Ginny, someone broke out of Azkaban, the tournament still happened... and now...

Now Voldemort was going to be resurrected. I acknowledged it'd be futile to stop such events. If the Dark Lord had to return, I wanted it to be on my terms—or at least as much as I could make them my terms. I wanted to use the situation to my advantage so in the end I would come out the victor, and he the loser.

Above all, I could not sit by and allow my dear little Harry to go through such events when I was willing to fall on that grenade.

Mentally, and physically I was prepared as I could be.

Emotionally I had to admit I was lacking. No matter what words I said, or reasoning I provided, there was a deeply ingrained fear inside my heart. Echoes of that horrible night would never leave me. The nightmares, I feared, would persist for all of my life. In the worst of it, I would only see those red eyes and hear that high-pitched cold laughter.

Voldemort scared me.

He was a monster, a powerful force that I had to fight.

Yet fight it, I would.

Because I was so anxious and dreadful of that terrible task, time flew by quicker than what I would have liked. All too soon it was the evening of the task. I was able to eat a bland breakfast, but nerves prevented me from eating lunch or dinner. It was nice that they allowed Sirius, Remus, and the Weasley's—per Sirius's insistence—to visit me before the task, but it did nothing to soothe the jumbled nerves I felt.

With a dry throat, a wobbly stomach, and a resigned heart, I set out to the maze.

The Third Task.

Nervously, I brushed down the hem of my skirt. My fingers ran over my emergency port-key. I bought it years ago to use in case a heist went wrong. It would definitely disqualify me to use it, but if Voldemort was too dangerous to face or if he even uttered Ava I was friggin' using it.

I highly doubted Voldemort would kill me out right. The megalomaniac would want a long drawn-out monologue of bragging to his followers. He'd want to intimidate me to the fullest extent of his capabilities. He'd—

There was a flash of another memory, one that hurt so much to think about it left me breathless.

He'd do to me what he did to Lily.

"Nervous?" teased Tom, picking up on my anxiety. "How unlike you."

"I'm only human. I have no idea what we'll be facing inside the maze."

"You'll be fine."

"I hope so."

Tom's magic softly brushed against my own and I wished I had a warm hand to hold.

My eyes screwed shut as I listened to the students enter the stadiums at the front of the maze. They were loud, boisterous and ignorant of what was to come. I found myself envious of their innocence for a moment, and then I slapped my cheeks to shake off that nonsense.