14. Essence of duty

35 7 0
                                    

1995 June 24, Hogwarts
The air was alive with the sweet symphony of music and jubilant cheers, heralding the arrival of the third task. Isobel basked in the warmth of the euphoric atmosphere, yet remained ever-vigilant, her senses keenly attuned to every subtle shift in the surroundings. Ever since the untimely demise of Barty Crouch Snr, she had become a sentinel of sorts, keeping a watchful eye on both the perimeter and the hallowed halls of the castle. All other tasks paled in comparison, as she soared through the corridors with the grace of a phoenix in flight. Alas, her endeavours had yielded little beyond a cacophony of suspicious whispers and the occasional truant student skulking about after curfew. The weight of uncertainty hung heavy on her shoulders, like an anchor dragging her down into the abyss.

As the final exams drew to a close, the end of term loomed like a portentous storm on the horizon. The last task of the Triwizard Tournament beckoned, promising both glory and peril. But for Isobel, it signalled the end of her obligations and the start of a long-awaited respite. No more would she be bound by the constraints of academia or the rigours of competition. Instead, she could luxuriate in the languid embrace of summer, nestled within the opulent confines of one of her family's lavish estates. With no purpose but to drift aimlessly, carried along by the gentle tides of leisure and indulgence.

The champions glided into the hallowed stadium, each one accompanied by a retinue of esteemed dignitaries, whether it be a proud family member, an austere headmaster, or a venerable headmistress. Isobel cast a furtive glance at the procession, her heart beating like a hummingbird's wings, as she caught a fleeting glimpse of their resplendent figures. But her gaze was soon drawn towards the majestic podium, where Albus Dumbledore had taken his place, exuding a quiet confidence that was both reassuring and awe-inspiring. She drew in a deep breath, savouring the electric energy that suffused the air, as she steeled herself for the imminent challenge that lay ahead.

"Sonorous!" he exclaimed, making everyone settle down. "Earlier today, Professor Moody placed the Triwizard Cup deep within the maze. Only he knows its exact position. Now, as Mr Diggory and Mr Potter are tied for first position, they will be the first to enter the maze, followed by Mr Krum and then Miss Delacour. The first person to touch the cup will be the winner! I've instructed the staff to patrol the perimeter," he said, looking at Isobel, who only nodded in response. "If a contestant wishes to withdraw from the task he or she needs only to send up red sparks with their wands," he paused, turning back. "Contestants, gather around."

For a fleeting moment, he spoke in hushed tones with the four intrepid contestants, his words weighty with import as he imparted the daunting details of the upcoming challenges.

"Champions, ready yourselves!" Dumbledore declared, his voice ringing out like a clarion call as he withdrew to the modest podium.

With a resounding blast from the cannon and the resumption of the mellifluous music, Harry and Cedric darted into the labyrinthine maze, swiftly vanishing from sight.

Isobel discreetly edged towards the periphery, endeavouring to recede from the throng of onlookers, but her mother's voice rang out from the stands, arresting her progress. She swivelled her gaze towards the elevated seating area, where the figures of Minerva, Severus, and Cornelius Fudge held court, and offered a subtle nod of greeting in their direction.

"Join us, dear Bela," Minerva implored, her warm smile inviting Isobel to take a seat beside them and share in their company.

"I'm afraid I cannot, Mother. My duties require me to maintain vigilance," Isobel explained, offering a polite but apologetic smile before hastening away to seek out a secluded location for her transformation.

It had become a recurring theme in recent months - Minerva and Severus would request the pleasure of her company, yearning for the idle conversation and carefree moments they once shared. But Isobel was always preoccupied, whether it be with patrolling the grounds, grading papers, or inventing other plausible excuses to avoid their entreaties. Minerva was accustomed to this behaviour, but Severus could not help but wonder if he had said or done something to offend her during their last genuine interaction, four months prior.

Isobel ━ SEVERUS SNAPEWhere stories live. Discover now