Thunk

Vladlena hit the ground the Champion's tent in a surprisingly graceful roll for someone who was in the middle of transforming back into a human-shaped form. She lay there for a moment, breathing quietly, exhilarated and stunned, box clutched carefully under one arm.

After a moment, she rose, feeling the aches of her minor injuries and strained rather acutely.  From the blood on the floor, she wasn’t the only one to escape the task somewhat less than unscathed, and she wondered tiredly if she had enough in her to cast the healing spells on her own, or if she should seek out the mediwitch.

But first, to deal with the prize.

Lena went to place the box with her things when she saw something that had not been there when she had first entered the stadium. A small, leather journal, otherwise unremarkable.

"Sasha!" The expression that lit Lena's face as she spoke the name—not of her fellow champion, but of someone somewhat younger and unrelated— was one that would completely unfamiliar to even the few people who knew her better than others—pure, warm affection. The reflexive smile that curved gently on her lips was small but ardent, and her features softened with a warmth that was unheard of from the controlled, contained Russian. She ran her fingers over the worn leather and opened the book without comment, and even as she did, precise, neat Russian text appeared on the aged paper, succinctly describing the Salem champion Taryn's run as it unfolded.

It was a journal the siblings, usually separated by their parents who wished to raise them as rivals such that only the superior of the two would inherit, had discovered by accident.  She couldn't help but smile as she read the descriptions of the earlier contestants, because her brother Aleksandr, who was barely 12 and had been allowed to attend only when her role had been announced, couldn't hide his excitement quite as well as she could.

"It vwould seem," Lena spoke, soft and smoky to no one in particular and in the present sense of the words, "We put on quite a show."

Josh was sat in the Champions Tent, having finished the First Task, not wanting to get his minor scratches and scrapes Healed, since he knew they'd heal well enough on their own. Seeing one of the Durmstrang Champions speak, Josh was surprised, and it briefly showed. " You said We. Do you know how the other Champions are faring?" Josh asked, his expression curious. he wasn't sure if he would score highly, since he hadn't exactly gone for a massive demonstration of skill in this challenge, but it would be interesting to find out what other people got.

Enough time had passed since Sasha's own run through the maze for his spike of adrenaline and nerves to finally start leveling out.  Between the surge of hormones and nerves, much like after most of his shows, the Ravenclaw had been left famished.  Within minutes of returning to the tent, Sasha found himself at the snack table, filling a plate with cheese, fruit and a couple of the finger pastries. 

With a full plate (it was a snack-sized plate, after all - and Sasha knew from experience he could usually manage a few extra calories after a competition), Sasha crossed the tent, dodging one of the American's with an apology as the boy reappeared in the tent.  Tired and exhilarated, Sasha flopped himself in one of the chairs and popped a small wedge of cheese in his mouth. 

Another champion returned to the tent - one of the Durmstrang students and, by the looks of it, she'd been through the ringer.  Sasha turned back to his food but looked up a moment later when he heard the same Durmstrang student call his name.  "Ja?" he asked, glancing towards the girl, both curious and confused.  "Can I help-" but before he completed the question, it became obvious the girl was talking to ... well a book.  Sasha blushed and glanced down at his plate, thankful the girl's words had caught Harcroft's attention.  Hopefully, his own confusion would go unnoticed. 

Vladlena was lost in her own thoughts, and it took her a moment to realize she was being addressed, as she read the page in front of her. Her scrapes were predominately from the brambles, and the only true injuries she had were her own fault, and shallow but sore. She had no doubt, despite her otherwise successful attempt, that she would be chastised for the destruction to her uniform, now sitting comfortably in sheep-form in a giant spider stomach.

She looked up, startled, as it sounded like she was being addressed—and realized she had inadvertently spoken Aleksandr’s name aloud. Embarrassed at being caught using the affectionate name—after all, the boy was supposed to be a stranger to her, despite the shared blood—a blush rose on her cheeks to match the Ravenclaw’s, particularly once she remembered he shared the name. “Moi izvineniya,” she said quietly. “I refer to my brother.”

Now she turned to Joshua, and raised the book. “He is in stands. Vwhat he writes, I see.” She held up the book but did not show the page--she doubted it would do much good unless either of them could read Russian. Her smile was small, but polite. “You are animagus, too, according to him.” She said, referring to the brief passage describing a cat making its way around a trap, and then Aleksandr’s frustration that he couldn’t see through the brambles about what happened next. She nodded as he asked if she knew how the other Champions were faring.

“Salem girl—my brother thinks she is healing Many-Eyed[1] during attempt.” She shook her head slightly in surprise. Her strict sense of fairness had prevented her from causing harm or permanent damage—even the one she had shrunk would shake off the spell, and probably had done so by now—but she had not gone quite so far as to take the time to repair damage done by others.

Her heart had finally begun to settle down, but her fierce, quiet exhilaration had not faded. The girl's pale eyes, despite her conversation, were far away and somewhere else.

1.	What she calls acromantulas

"Nice, so you know how the rest of us did. I should have thought of that myself, I've got a brother in the stands too. But yeah, I'm an Animagus. A tabby cat, specifically, so your brother probably didn't see me while I was transformed. That was the final trap before facing the final challenge." Josh said, knowing there were still those that hadn't completed the task around. Then he thought back over what the durmstrang champion had said. "wait, an animagus too? You're an animagus?" Josh said in some surprise. He hadn't expected to meet another, animagi being rare. then he heard her talk about what Dickenson was doing. "I suspect she's a half-giant. Our gamekeeper's one too, and that's just the kind of thing he'd so. Still, to heal the acromantula during the task, I might have tried to avoid doing permanent damage, but to heal them..." Josh shook his head.

The Durmstrang's blush was matched by one from Sasha as he nodded, awkwardly.  "Oh," he offered.  At least this other Sasha wasn't the girl's sister.  The Sasha present in the tent hesitated a moment and then popped a piece of melon in his mouth in the absence of something else to do. 

The girl turned her attention to Harcroft and the two started talking about their respective brothers who were watching from the stands.  He felt a slight pang of jealousy but covered the response with another piece of food.  To have family present and observing from the stands had been a privilege distinctly reserved for those champions that had magical blood relatives.  For muggleborns like himself - even if his family were around to theoretically entertain the thought of coming to such an event - there couldn't have ever been the showing of such family support. 

Did all of them have family here in the stands?  The Durmstrang students were all, presumably, pureblood.  Harcroft and Harper, Sasha understood, were both purebloods.  Sasha cast a curious glance at the triad of students from Salem and then Beauxbatons before turning back to his plate.  There was no way to tell, of course, if there were any muggleborns amongst them.

Sasha pushed himself to his feet and moved back to the snack table and away from the two.  Being neither an animagus nor having wizarding family (apart from the man who, by law, was unable to attend), he felt awkwardly out of place in their conversation. 

It was unusual for Tapendra to be rough in crowds, but he left quite a few brushed rib cages in his wake as he forced his way down the stairs to the base of the Quidditch stands. He'd seen Sasha's dive for the box and had already been out of his seat and jogging away before the boy had vanished from the arena; still, the crowd delayed him significantly.

His heart in his throat, he silently cursed the stairs that led to the bottom for being so bloody long. He was currently ignoring the fact he'd been told he couldn't come into the tent before; all thoughts of that nature flew from his mind in the wave of excitement.

Tapendra's face was split in a huge grin. He couldn't help it - Sasha had actually done it, and very well too! He was - well, he still felt like he'd been right to doubt Sasha's prowess before. But he'd been wrong, that was the important bit. Sasha had done incredibly well and come out of it looking uninjured.

The crowd was thinning out as he got to the base, and he jogged towards the entrance-way that held the tent. The tent was still guarded, but not as closely as before, the guards clearly distracted by the task itself and the roar of the crowd as the next Champion went.

He was therefore able to quickly dart into the tent before they could stop him, or shout a warning. Sasha was off to the side, away from the Durmstrang Champions, but Tapendra paid this no heed. He swept to the boy and without a thought, he hugged him, nearly lifting him off the ground.

"You did it! You did it!" He said, beaming. When he let Sasha go, his grin was nearly ear to ear, and the pride radiated off him. It was a wonder he wasn't jumping up and down. "I'm so sorry I ever doubted you. You were amazing!" He said, hands still on Sasha's arms.

As Sasha was drawn away, Tracy came forward, his footsteps muffled by habit and his smile slight—almost shy—as he approached Joshua and… Vladlena, her name had been announced. Until then, he’d been having his injuries tended to (-or searched for, he had come out surprisingly scotch-free) and chilling out with Vex as they waited for their teammate to return; now he stood, drying his face with a fluffy white towel. His eyes, however, were still slightly red from the dust; they briefly shot Sasha and his Head of House a curious look before focusing on the pair again. “It doesn’t say an’where that y’ can’t,” he said softly, looking at the Gryffindor in particular as he came to stand beside them. There was no anger—or even annoyance—in that Southern drawl of his, but there was a calm to his words that would brook no argument. “Nuthin’ wrong wit’ fixin’ up what others lef’ behind, either.”

The corner of his mouth taking up an amused curve, he added, a little teasingly, “Pract’lly rule o’ thumb, if you think y’ can.”

Though there was no denying that Taryn’s compassion probably wouldn’t come away unscathed, Tracy didn’t hold his teammate’s actions against her, or even shake his head at them with anything resembling resignation—no, as soon as he’d overheard what she’d done, he’d shaken his head with pride. He didn’t know if the sentiment was a half-giant thing or not, but it didn’t change things one bit at all: Taryn Dickenson was a special girl, one with a knack for animals—probably all—that you couldn’t help but admire. Not a lot of people were able to share that much empathy and do something about it.

Still, opinions were opinions and the Swimmer had made his peace with that a long time ago. His smile broadening, Tracy grinned at them both—though, when he let his eyes settle solely on Lena, it shrank into a small, rather private one with a warmth that shone. “An’ what abou’ you two? Di’nt take that path, I take it?”

 

"true, there isn't a rule against it, it's just most would be more concerned about getting through the maze. Wasn't supposed to be an insult anyway. Not least, Acromantula are vicious, I was more concerned with avoiding being bitten. I suppose that'd be less of an issue for a half-giant though..." Josh trailed off with a thoughtful expression. Then Josh heard the Salem student asking what he and the Durmstrang girl did. "Nearly fell to a pit, only avoided it by falling back instead of forward, used my Animagus form to slip through the maze, then used fire and a jet of water to temporarily hold off the mother Acromantula until I could get my chest. You?" Josh asked, noticing the Salem student appeared uninjured.

Ssaha just caught a glimpse of the Astronomy Professor as the man slipped into the tent.  But, the man was moving with speed and deliberation.  Sasha had only identified the man on height, alone, out of the corner of his eye before Professor Trishna had reached him. 

In that brief moment, Sasha braced himself for whatever reaction was bound to follow.  Everyone knew his Head of House hadn't approved of Sasha putting his name in the goblet though no one knew of the awkward and uncomfortable conversation that had followed.  Sasha was fully aware he'd used a few spells on his run that hadn't been in any of his classes standard curricula but he was fairly certain none of them had come from too far beyond what one might find in the library.  Or, trolling spellbooks in Flourish and Blotts. 

"Sir," Sasha offered but before he had the time to say or do anything more, he found himself drawn into a hug.  The gesture caught the Ravenclaw completely off guard.  But, the surprise lasted only a moment and was almost as quickly replaced with a mixture of

Sasha stiffened briefly from surprise.  But, the surprise passed just as quickly as it came and, in its wake, Sasha found he both welcomed and appreciated the gesture.  He returned the hug, albeit a little awkwardly and was blushing madly when Professor Trishna finally stepped back.  "I ... yes."  Sasha wasn't entirely sure what to say but acknowledging the obvious, that he did, indeed, finish, seemed as good a place as any to start. 

"I'm a little dusty," he offered, apologetically - a fact he would have presented earlier if there'd been time.  But, it had been a safe lead in to a more general, universal apology that felt long overdue.  An apology that, given the context, had to remain vague.  "I'm sorry, sir. I ... it was kind of fun."  In the next moment, the awkwardness seemed to break and Sasha grinned.  He looked down at the wooden box still under his arm and shrugged.  "And, I got a souvenir." 

Speak of the devil -- within a few minutes after the conversation about her tactics wrapped up, Taryn appeared in the tent. She'd not been completely prepared for the trip (it was a Portkey, hadn't they said no Portkeys?) and wound up flat on her back with her clothes ripped, her skin covered in berry juice, and her general person smelling like an alcoholic fruit salad. She lay in the grass a moment, clutching her box and grinning like a loon.

Then, she kicked up her legs and bounded straight up in two jumps, letting out a rebel yell that could be heard outside, even over the crowd. It took her a second and a half to take stock of the others: Sasha to the left, being enthusiastically congratulated by Professor Pegasus Pony, and Trace to her right, with a Drumstrang girl and the Gryffindor kid. Completely ignoring the medi-wizard she'd nearly smacked up the side of the head, Taryn zeroed in on Tracy, crossing the tent in two long strides. The grin she wore was, in all probability, literally the largest any of them had seen.

"Hey Trace! Tracy, man, Cap, we did it! We got'em!" She let out another whoop and swung a long arm around Tracy's shoulder, holding her box aloft with the other. "One-two-three, we got 'em all! Whoo-hoo!" She spun around on the spot, not quite realizing she'd swept Tracy off his feet until she'd set him back down.

Loosening her grip enough that he could break free if she wanted to, she craned her neck to catch sight of Vex, wherever he was hiding. "Hey Vexy! How's your leg doin'? Wasn't that awesome?" She laughed out loud and swung her attention back around to Tracy and his cluster. "Oh man, that was the coolest thing ever! Did'ja see those things? At that Mosag girl at the center, boy howdy, she was a beaut-- what the hell'er you doing?"

The medi-wizard dangled from the arm that held her box, his lime-green sash askew as his feet struggled to regain contact with the ground. He dropped when she acknowledge him, gave a frustrated huff, and straightened his robes. "Now see here! You can't just...just go running off like that! You've just had a very dangerous ordeal, and I need to check you over immediately!"

"Cool your jets, tiny, I'm not hurt. Just sticky."

"You are still bleeding!"

"Say what?" Taryn looked down. Beneath the tattered remains of her left pants leg, the bite she'd earned and numbed during the task was, indeed, still oozing a steady trickle of blood, which had stained her sock to near-blackness. "Oh. Huh. Would'ja look at that."

Tapendra was probably just as surprised as Sasha had been when the boy hugged him back, but it wasn't unpleasant surprise at all. His smile, if possible, got bigger. He also tightened his grip, which probably didn't help much.

He released Sasha and let the kid breathe, but still effectively held him at arm's length, one hand on Sasha's shoulder. "It's alright," he said, as conscious as Sasha was that they weren't alone, but less worried about being affectionate. Of course, some of the other topics at hand he was truly equally cautious about.

"I saw!" he said, looking at the box. "I'm looking forward to finding out what's in it," he added, since he had as much of a clue as the boy in front of him did at this point. "It's supposed to be kind of difficult to open..."

He patted Sasha's arm, silent for a long moment, his smile fading slightly as he considered his next words. "Look, Sasha, I-" he started, and then the tent flap opened. Tapendra glanced at it, and recognized one of the guards, who looked particularly picked on...and particularly annoyed  with the Astronomy professor.

"Sir, only Champions in the tent-" the guard started, and Tapendra looked back to Sasha with an awkward but warm smile.

"I'll talk to you later, okay?" He said. "I'm sorry I doubted you, Sasha, I really am-" he added, as the guard stalked over. 

"I'm going, I'm going," Tapendra said, with a grumble. He flashed Sasha a quick smile and headed out with some of his dignity intact, despite the guard's glare.

Still blushing, Sasha nodded at what seemed the appropriate moments as Professor Trishna spoke.  The Ravenclaw was conscious of the fact that he was probably supposed to say something, but nothing came to mind.  At least nothing that seemed both adequately significant and appropriate to ... whatever their dynamic actually was.  Other than completely confusing.

It was unlikely more time would have helped Sasha find something meaningful to say but, all the same, he was mildly annoyed when the wizards at the tent flap stepped into the tent to wave the professor outside. 

"I - yes, sir," Sasha offered, nodding as the guard approached.  "Thank you." 

He turned back to his plate once the Professor had cleared the tent, glancing around at the others gathered.  He returned to where Harcroft was sitting with the Durmstrang champion and let himself fall into the overstuffed armchair. 

Once settled, Sasha turned his attention to the box in his hand.  "I suppose it's safe to assume we can't just saw it open," he commented.  The box was wood, after all.  However, what in the wizarding world was ever that simple?  In some ways, this new challenge was probably going to be more appealing to the Ravenclaw than the one he just completed.  Yes, it was fun testing his abilities and strength.  But, this was a logic puzzle.  This required more careful consideration, experimentation and deduction.  He turned the box over slowly between his hands, carefully examining the design. 

After being returned to the tent, box in her grasp, Magdalena regained her balance and gave the area a once-over. It was certainly a welcome if much tamer sight. If she felt somewhat disoriented, she didn’t let it show. Portkeys were second nature by now-- giant spiders, perhaps not. She looked down at the box in her grasp. Boxes were made to hold things... and they were made to be opened. She again glanced over the tent, counting the champions and boxes. Nearly everyone had one, and they were identical, even if the champions were in various states of victory-- clothes torn, cuts and scrapes decorating skin. Magda turned her back to the others, and looked down at her box again. Even if there would undoubtedly be more to it, she tried, instinctively and with no result, to open it, as one would with any number of boxes. Made to be opened. And to keep people out.

Looking up again, she caught a mediwitch’s eye in understanding. Neither fussy nor someone to be coddled, she sank without word into a chair and allowed the woman to tend to her cuts, which were not deep or serious, but were cuts nevertheless. She was no fool to let her face go untreated, least of all because there would be hoards of people coming at the champions when the Task was over. Magdalena was vain, certainly, but mostly she did not want to appear weak, as if the enemy she had so thoroughly attacked had got much from her at all. With careful hands on either side of the box in her lap, fingers caressing it blindly, she looked toward the tent’s ceiling while the witch’s wand glided over her cheek. She did not fidget.

Eyelids fluttered shut momentarily while the wand neared her eye. When she opened them again, she caught someone coming through the tent. The mediwitch finished (which was excellent timing, because Magdalena was already moving to her feet) and the Oberteil offered her only the briefest of nods before moving toward the man who had just entered. She squinted, just a little-- as if recalling some long ago face, or a photograph, or both- suspicion and affection. Of course, there was no need. She knew exactly who he was. She had seen him a couple of times in the past year or two, even, but it was always a throwback to see family in the flesh and not just in portraits on the wall. He was still the same, with the same spider crawling about. “Dietrich.” She smiled.

Spiders, who would have thunk?

Dietrich, tucked away in his little parlour on Knockturn Alley, had very little incentive to leave London when there were potential customers roaming about the wizarding streets. But he knew that the TetraWizard Tournament was ongoing and that, 'cording to what he'd heard going around, Magda's name had been pulled outta the Goblet.

Hell, ol' gramps Eisenberg must've been bursting with pride. First Task and his kin gets picked? That wasn't luck, that was distinction. Even Dietrich prickled with a kinda respect for the li'l one. Not so little anymore maybe. The towering wizard, usually shaggy and coarsely dressed, was looking unusually well-groomed today.

Beard trimmed down to a fine stubble, blonde hair tidied up. His clothes were ironed down and reeked of a faint, peppery cologne instead of ink or firewhiskey. He cleaned up well, tryin' to look as orderly as he had a year back when he'd last seen his cousin. And now, ducking into the Champion's tent to meet her, he hoped he recognized Magda as well in person as he did from the Stands.

“Dietrich.”

Hey, she definitely recognized him. Dietrich's expression broke into a toothy grin as he hauled himself over and, not even hesitating, pulled the witch into a strong bearhug.

"Magda!" he laughed her name loudly, setting her down with all the care of a gentle giant. "Gods. You're looking good fer a girl who's gone mixed herself up with some arachnids." What else could he expect? Taking a step back, Dietrich hid an arm behind his back and then, with cheeky flourish, pulled out a large, elaborate bouquet.

Roses, so deep a shade of red they might have been dipped into blood. The edges of the petals bled shimmering crimson into their centers. "Nearly forgot. For your remarkable performance."