B.Q. Book One: Princess of the Blacks

Chapter 28: Flawed Assumptions

Disclaimer: Was only one of the three Triwizard Tournament Tasks spectator-friendly? If so, I don't own the Harry Potter franchise; it belongs to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, Warner Bros., and whoever else she sold the rights to.
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Jen tilted her head in confusion and felt the needle of the compass again. Sure enough, it still pointed at the inert hostage. Frowning, she walked around the room, double-checking that she was in the right place and that her path did not lay behind the captive. "Bugger me on Legba's crutch, whose arse do I need to break my foot off in for this cock-up?"
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"Why, why did I get handed Potter's compass? Can Bagman not read or something?" she growled, rolling the dysfunctional device between her palms. The magical core in the room with her did not belong to her friend. Irritated at the situation, the stupidity of the Tournament organizers, and her self-imposed restriction to avoid showcasing her wandless abilities, she pointed her wand in the general direction of the compass. She called to mind memories of Kenneth: the feel of his core, the sound of his voice, the smell of his cologne, the taste of his favorite foods. Reaching out with her magic, she wrested control of the locator spell on the nickel needle and replaced its target with her own. It jumped and shivered for a moment before swinging to point at the exact opposite side of the glass cube she was in. "All right, Jen, over half your time's gone, and it took you that long to get here. Bugger the indirect route." She stomped out of the room, her fury palpable.

Ron Weasley remained chained to his post, snoring faintly.

Stepping onto the narrow catwalk, she clenched her teeth as winged daggers again raced at her. This time, however, she did not simply ward them off; twirling her blank wand in her fingers like a slim baton, she whipped it around her head and reduced the knives to slag. A smirk made its way to her lips when she reached the end of the walkway, the needle of the compass still pointing away and down. Her slow, deliberate movements masked as hesitance, she slipped the wand and compass into her pockets before, focusing on exactly what she wanted, she conjured yet another prop under the left sleeve of her duster.

A swift tug with her other hand revealed to her remote audience a polished pyrite vambrace studded with chunks of quartz. She felt the texture of the stones, verifying from the very slight quaver of impurities within that that were indeed the blue variety she had imagined. After pushing her sleeve the rest of the way to her elbow, she held it up as if she were visually examining it. "A little ostentatious for my tastes still, but better than nothing. Let's see if it works as advertised." A sharp gesture, a push of her will, and the stone spikes underneath the catwalk exploded. That's what I'm talking about, she thought as she dropped the five feet to the ground, her heeled boots slipping a tad on the loose rubble. 'Wandless' magic is supposed to be too advanced for me, but a secondary focus makes it perfectly explainable.

The compass, now resting in her right hand, indicated that she had to move down a little more and through the wall in front of her to reach her goal. Grinning – it had been a long time since she had enjoyed a bit of wanton destruction – she turned her head away from the partition to protect her face and flicked her fingers. A loud, brittle crack accompanied the glass shattering to leave a hole almost wide enough for her to lie down in it. Switching the compass between her hands to draw her fake wand again, she cast a softening charm on the floor below her and fell into another smooth hallway running sideways; the needle pointed to the wall in front of her. She weighed her options for a moment, then blew another hole through this barrier as well.

She had tried to play this the judges' way. If only they had not wasted her time with their incompetence...

The second opening led her into a corner, with two paths running to her left and straight ahead. She walked along the route, analyzing the costs and benefits of continuing her charade. This is really starting to be a larger hassle than I want to put up with. I need to find out when it wouldn't be strange for a powerful witch to start doing a few things without the aid of a wand; Flitwick would likely know, or at least have an idea. Then again, what if it takes decades? I've been in Hogwarts for just over six months, and already I'm sick and tired of having to pretend I need this useless prop. Will I be willing to keep up this act for the next three years?