Before Fletcher knew it, it was time for Task Two of the Triwizard Tournament. He found himself at the edge of something entirely new and unknown, something both frightening and exciting, something that could contain a lot of fun or a lot of danger or a lot of both. This time, however, at least he was armed with his wand.

And that mirror. He had brought the mirror he'd found in the first task...just in case.

Taking a deep breath, Fletcher stood up straight and held his wand out in front of him as a guide. He put one foot in front of the other and marched on into the maze.

After a few cautious steps you can see a pale light up ahead. In your current state of mind, you might imagine all kinds of strange creatures waiting for you, but the four-legged thing in the middle of a small, overgrown clearing of sorts is comfortingly mundane and ordinary: a sturdy wooden table. The clearing itself doesn't appear to have another exit. That's odd, but something to worry about later.

On the table, in a row neat as you please, stand five potions. They each emit a faint glow, bathing the clearing in multi-coloured light. In front of them, there is a small piece of parchment. Directly past the table; a tiny door.

Quote:

Originally Posted by The Narrator

After a few cautious steps you can see a pale light up ahead. In your current state of mind, you might imagine all kinds of strange creatures waiting for you, but the four-legged thing in the middle of a small, overgrown clearing of sorts is comfortingly mundane and ordinary: a sturdy wooden table. The clearing itself doesn't appear to have another exit. That's odd, but something to worry about later.

On the table, in a row neat as you please, stand five potions. They each emit a faint glow, bathing the clearing in multi-coloured light. In front of them, there is a small piece of parchment. Directly past the table; a tiny door.

Fletcher continued onward cautiously, his lit wand out in front of him. He walked at such a slow, careful pace because he really had no idea what was ahead of him... or to that matter, what he had left behind.

A few more steps forward and Fletcher squinted at a pale light filtering through the hedges. He froze at the sight of some sort of animal or creature or four-legged object blocking the middle of the path. Fletcher shook his wand at the thing, to see if it would move, but when it didn't he walked closer. And closer. And closer.

And then he saw what it really was: just a table. Whew. That was a relief. Nothing but a four-legged piece of wood. Fletcher scanned the area around the table and noticed that there was no apparent large exit.... save for a tiny, itty-bitty little door just beyond the table.

Well.... he'd just be turning around then, since there was no way a boy just over six feet tall could fit through there. Apparently this was a dead end after all. Shaking his head, Fletch was about to leave the clearing when he looked closer at the table and noticed the five glowing bottles and a little riddle.

Quote:

Potions sitting in a row,
One to shrink and one to grow,
One to make your spirits fly.
Two will make you want to die.
Trust you not the phials' size.
The one that shrinks is in disguise.
It can be found there intermixed,
Euphoria and pain betwixt.
If suff'ring is your dream to call,
The drink is deep, the phial tall.
Choose wisely ere you take a sip:
You must be tiny for this trip.

Oooh a riddle. Good thing he'd went to the last Runes class, since that class had been great preparation for this task. What he had to do, apparently, was figure out which potion was which and drink the correct potion that would shrink him to a size proportionate to the door.

No sweat.

Fletcher re-read the riddle a few times and then examined the bottles. Hmm. Two would apparently cause the drinker great pain, and they were apparently in tall bottles. So that was probably the two identical purple ones.

The one that would shrink him had couldn't be on either end, because it was apparently "betwixt" a pain potion and (what he was guessing) was an elixir to induce euphoria. By that logic, the shrinking potion would have to be the medium-sized green bottle the second from the right, between the orange one (which was probably the euphoric one) and the purple bottle (which was probably the pain one).

All right. That meant the littttttle blue bottle would make him grow, and since he wanted to shrink, he would just have to trust his thought process and drink the green one. And the sooner he drank it, the better, so that he could get a move on and get out of this hedge.

Fletcher lowered his wand and switched it to his left hand so he could pick up the medium sized green bottle with his right. He took a breath and then uncorked the potion, taking a brief whiff of it before he downed it all in one gulp.

And now to see if he was right........

You must be tiny for this trip... It's a Shrinking Potion! And a strong one, too. You become smaller and smaller until the phial itself is taller than you are and the table looms over you like a mountain. Now the overgrown grass has replaced the hedges as an obstacle to struggle through.

But what trip? Which direction? There was no obvious way to the clearing earlier...

To move forward along the path, answer the following riddle:

What is it that you must give before you can keep it?

Whoa whoa whoaaaa. Fletcher found himself shrinking, and shrinking, and becoming smaller and smaller as the table seemed to grow to an immense height beside and above him and each blade of grass was like a mountain before him. He had dropped the phial after drinking its contents and now it rested in the grass like an enormous, shiny, round green mirror.

"Whoaaaaa," the Hufflepuff breathed, pushing aside a blade of grass to admire his tiny reflection in the reflective surface of the potions bottle. He was still as handsome as ever, just.... much, much smaller, with such fine details and an itty-bitty little wand.

Well that was cool. It was also confusing, because as small as he was now, he had no real way of wading through the grass to get to the door. He couldn't even see the door through this sea of pointy green. Which way should he start battling through the grass?

Quote:

What is it that you must give before you can keep it?

Your word.

The grass is difficult to get through, It's highlands grass, very tough and entangled all over. The hedges high above you are silent now as you creep onwards, but that's no great consolation. Sure, a Blast-Ended Skrewt might not be able to find you, but what if there's an ant colony somewhere behind the next patch of grass?

Somewhere off to your right side, something titters. Oh, that little chuckle is worse than clicking mandibles. It implies intelligence. You whirl around, wand out, just as you hear the unmistakable sound of little footsteps, but there are just more blades of grass in front of you. You begin struggling forward blindly, trying to get to the end of the clearing.

Was it Fletcher's imagination or was this grass particularly nasty to get through? He started blasting little bits and holes in the giant blades, like they were tunnels and doors, so he could get through the thicket better. It was so weird being this tiny, and being the only tiny being around. He didn't see any birds or worms or cats either (thank Merlin), but that also meant he couldn't see any of the other champions.

Drat. He was probably really really behind in the task now. Sighing a tiny little sigh, Fletcher poked past another clump of grass into a slightly clearer patch of dirt and froze as he heard a sound off to the side.

Giggle.

Oh nooooo. What the hell was that? He whirled around with his wand out, pointing it in the direction of the chuckle.

Giggle giggle. Pitter patter pat pat pfft.

Now that sound was not mistakable. Whatever --- whoever was laughing at him --- was also running circles around him. Grrrr. Fletcher drew his wand around him in a circle.

"Show yourself!" he demanded, drawing a circle around him with his wand as he non-verbally cast protego. "There's nothing to laugh at here."

He didn't like being laughed at. And he most certainly didn't like being laughed at as he was struggling through a sea of grass. Growling to himself, Fletcher waited for an answer, and when one didn't come, he continued onward through the giant blades of grass, more quickly than before.

Maybe it would be best to get out of here as soon as possible, so that whoever was laughing at him decided he was no longer amusing and would make a great snack. Or WHATEVER.

A door appears! This is a second clearing, with mercifully trimmed grass. It's lit well, too – there's a fire ahead. Standing on top of it is a large soot-stained cauldron. Next to it stands a small table. Both are regular sized, but someone has considerately placed a small ladder next to the table that you can climb to get on top of it.

On the table are a number of phials and boxes - Peppermint, Moonstone, Fluxweed, Pomegranate, Doxy Eggs, Frozen Chizpurfles, Hellebore, Ginger Roots, Spine of a Lionfish, Lacewing Flies, Puffer-Fish Eyes - all carefully labeled. Potion ingredients. The one closest to the ladder has a second piece of parchment attached to it.

It's another riddle. Even if you can solve it, though, how will the ingredients get into the cauldron? The ladder seems to be just a little bit too short. Levitating something into it could work – if nothing gets spilled – but what if the potion needs stirring?

The door! THE DOOOOR! At last, Fletcher pushed aside one last blade of grass and turned the knob of the little door. He stepped through it and discovered that he was in another clearing, one with much, much shorter grass. At least now it was trimmed and proportionate to his height.... somewhat.

Fletcher practically skipped into the clearing with glee, but halted when he saw a biggg fire, and a biggg cauldron, and a biggg table, and a normal-sized ladder.

Okay so really everything else was normal-sized except the ladder, but to LiL!Fletcher, they all seemed HUGE! What was he supposed to do now, besides staring up at the table with wide, wondering eyes?

Well what else was there to do besides climb the ladder? Fletcher started up the narrow, rickety steps, ignoring his internal hesitation and fear of heights. Gulp. He had once conquered Humphrey Broomgart so he could obviously conquer a silly little ladder. And before he knew it, he was able to safely step off the ladder and onto the table.

Right away, Fletcher noticed the many potions ingredients laid out before him. Hmm. Was he supposed to brew something with these? And how?! His ladder was obviously too short. Fletcher's forehead crinkled with thoughts as he weaved between the boxes and bottles and phials, reading all the ingredient labels carefully.

They all sounded familiar, like the necessary items for a potion he'd just read about, but now he couldn't recall what the potion was. That could be a problem. But in the meantime, he spotted the bit of parchment and turned his attention to that issue instead.

Quote:

When they are caught,
they are thrown away.
When they escape,
you itch all day.

"What's that, fleas?" Fletcher voiced the first thought that came to his mind upon reading the riddle. He scoffed to himself and pushed past the parchment and its attached phial.

Fleas couldn't possibly be the answer, could they? One would think the answer actually had something to do with all the ingredients before him. Like maybe... the frozen chizpurfles?

Frown. This task was confusing. Why couldn't it have just been a straightforward maze?

From where you stand you can see the potion simmering inside the cauldron. It gives no indication of being complete.

Sooo....... this potion was NOT self-brewing, apparently. Fletcher had no idea why he even had to make the potion and couldn't just carry on with it incomplete. But, maybe he was supposed to make a growth potion?! YES? So he wouldn't be tiny and struggling against blades of grass?

Deciding that was what he was supposed to do, and having no idea what went into the antidote for shrinking solution, Fletcher decided he should add the frozen chizpurfle first. BUT WAIT. He had to clean the cauldron out first! The boy climbed up up up the ladder as high as he could go and quickly scourgified the old cauldron. Then he aimed his wand toward the thing and filled it up with aguamenti.

There. That was a good base. Too bad Fletcher couldn't just start dumping ingredients in though, since he was so short. He shook his tiny head and remained at the top of the ladder, aiming his wand at the ingredients now so that he could use his favorite spell.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Keeping a steady hand, Fletcher made sure to careeeeeefully guide the chizpurfle up up up, and slowwwwwly over the cauldron before releasing the spell.

The frozen chizpurfle fell into the cauldron with a great splash and Fletcher leaned off his ladder to see what the potion would do, if anything.

Even someone not afraid of bugs might not like the look of the Chizpurfles much. They're not alive, of course, tumbled on top of each other in a tightly corked phial.

But they're also much larger than usual in comparison, and there's something in that glassy, dead stare of theirs that just, well, creeps you out. And now that you're this small, you can study their bodies much more closely. They certainly look fearsome, and one can only imagine how much worse it would be if they suddenly sprang to life again, all scurrying legs and clicking chitin and... Shudder.

As you add one to the cauldron, a small scrap of parchment, almost hidden completely underneath the phial, catches your eye. Glad for the distraction, you retrieve it.

Fletcher was not really afraid of bugs. Heights, yes, but bugs? With the exception of dugbogs, he had the stomach of a champion because duhhhhh he was a champion.

But after dropping the disgusting, giant, and glassy-eyed chizpurfles into the potion, even Fletcher (the Boy Who Once Ate a Sandwich Right Off the Floor) felt a little queasy. "Grossssss," he murmured to himself, shuddering a little. Good thing those beasts were dead. One in the potion was enough, and Fletcher carefully levitated the phial containing its dead mates back to the table.

A little piece of parchment caught his attention and he quickly summoned it to his hand.

Quote:

What creature can you make if you take,
the head of a Dragon,
the middle of a Troll,
the hind of a Fox,
and the tail of a Plimpy?

Soooo that was a hint toward the next potions ingredient, eh? A dragonheaded trollabdomen foxbum fishtail? Ummm was that even a legit ingredient listed here?

No. No it was not. Darn.

"Maybe it's like a word puzzle," Fletcher said to himself. "Head of a 'dragon' would be... d. The middle of 'troll' is an o..... the hind of a 'fox' is an x.... tail of 'plimpy' is y.... sooo...."

The next ingredient had to be a doxy! Or at least doxy eggs since that was all he had here. "Doxy eggs. Awesome." Fletcher rolled his eyes and swished and flicked his wand at the next ingredient, carefully repeating the same process of levitating the eggs up to and into the cauldron.

He did not want that splashing back up on him.

Like the creature that lays them, the Doxy eggs aren't really bad as such, just... Well. If the grown Doxy is a pest, then its egg is pestilential. In its smell. It would make a compost heap pinch its nose shut. A troll's eyes would water.

Funny how these things don't get noticed until one is the size of a normal-sized goblet. Gives you a new perspective on everything. Perhaps the smell is some sort of defence mechanism or something?

In any case, just as before, there is another hint hidden underneath the box of eggs. Here's what it says:

"MERLIN'S MMMMOUTHWASH," Fletcher choked, throwing his arm over his face as his eyes started to water from the STAAAAAANK of the doxy eggs. "That's just... that's just.... no."

DISGUSTING. Whoever came up with this task had to have a sense of humor like a hyena. EVIL. VILE. GROSS.

Fletcher hustled back down the ladder after that fiasco and went in search of the next clue. Oh lucky him, there was another riddle attached to the bottom of the doxy egg box. He yanked off the piece of parchment and studied it intensely.

Quote:

Out of the ground,
I grow round and upright,
Sometimes picked,
By the full moon's light.

Now which of these other ingredients was harvested under the moon? His initial thought was moonstone, but Fletcher quickly dismissed that idea. It was too obvious an answer and it hardly grew out of the ground.

After a few more moments of pondering and weaving amongst the ingredients, Fletcher had it with a snap of his finger. "Fluxweed! It has to be harvested under the full moon when you use it in polyjuice potion."

So why not now, eh? He was getting good at this potions game. And talking to himself.

Ascending the ladder once more, Fletcher swished and flicked his wand at the fluxweed. "Careful now," he told himself. "Easy does it." The mint-like plant slowly hovered and bobbed over to the cauldron. Fletcher tried to hover it as close to the surface of the bubbling potion as possible before releasing the charm.

Not as much of a splash this time, hurrah.

There are no more ingredient riddles on the table. Perhaps the potion is ready.

Well that bit was taken care of. Fletcher dusted off his hands and climbed back down to the table. He started snooping amongst the ingredients, looking for another clue as to what he should add next, and was rather dismayed to find no more scraps of parchment.

Was it done? How could it be done already?! He hadn't even stirred it yet!!!

Wearing a rather confused expression, Fletch climbed back up the ladder and gave the table another careful glance. Nope, no riddles in sight. All right then, was he just supposed to drink the thing? He decided to stir it up first, and to do that he'd need a stirrer.

Fletcher looked around the table and the ground nearby, looking for a thick blade of grass or a knobbly twig he could use. Aha, there was one. The boy summoned the stick off the ground and ducked so it wouldn't come smacking into him but would land on the table instead. It worked, and he set about scourgifying the twig until it seemed to be clean enough to stick into the potion.

From his perch on the ladder, Fletcher once again cast, "Wingardium Leviosa!" Professor Carlton should be way proud of his abilities with that spell by now. He used, "FIXATE!" to get the twig in position above the cauldron, and then cast, "Locomotor Twig!" so it would start moving around the potion in a clockwise motion.

Hopefully that was the right thing to do.

The twig turns about inside the cauldron and a few tendrils of smoke rise from the frothing, murky potion.

Uh oh, it was smoking now. Was it supposed to do that? Was the smoke good or bad? WAS THE TWIG ON FIRE?!

Fletcher hastily cast, "Finite Incantatem!" on the twig and then summoned it the heck outta there, being sure to duck once more as the stick flew over his head and into the grass.

Whew, okay. Good potion. Potion be good now. How was he to drink the potion the potion though? Conjure a cup? Er, was he even supposed to drink the potion?!

Yeah sure why not. Fletcher focused hard on a certain goblet he'd seen before entering this silly tournament, and then flicked his wand, conjuring up a duplicate.

Heh. You could certainly say this Hufflepuff had a sense of humor. Now to get the potion into the Goblet of Fire look-alike.... once again, Fletcher resorted to the levitating spell. He really needed to study up and learn some new tricks. Shaking his head to himself, Fletcher floated his goblet down to the cauldron, clumsily filled it up, and carefully returned it to his hand.

He then climbed down the ladder, all the way to the ground, and started drinking from the goblet. If it was a growth potion, like he was hoping, he didn't want to be exploding in size at the tippy top of a tiny ladder. It was much safer down here.

The potion takes effect at once. You're definately starting to grow. But what is this? After regaining only a foot or so of your previous height, you stop.

You're now the size of a toddler. Nice! Perhaps there was something inside of that old cauldron that shouldn't have been washed away.

With the potion consumed, the hedges in front of you start changing, pushing themselves apart to reveal a narrow opening. Which way will you go?


To move forward along the path, answer the following riddle:

I am two-faced but bear only one, I have no legs but travel widely. Men spill much blood over me, kings leave their imprint on me. I have greatest power when given away, yet lust for me keeps me locked away. What am I?

Yessssss Fletcher could finally see over the blades of grass! Grinning madly as his limbs started to lengthen, Fletcher was prepared to be back to his usual height. And then, as suddenly the growth had started, it stopped.

????! What was this? Fletcher KNEW he sucked at potion making. Hmmph. Now he was stuck at toddler-height.

And toddler-heigh was LAME. LAME LAME LAME. He felt like throwing a temper tantrum since he was still a little guy.

All he had to say about this matter was that he had better be back to normal by the time he emerged from this catastrophe task. Fletcher started grumbling his favorite curses and swears under his breath and stomped off to continue through the maze. Even the stupid hedges were moving into a narrow opening now. Well wasn't that just PERFECT.

Quote:

I am two-faced but bear only one, I have no legs but travel widely. Men spill much blood over me, kings leave their imprint on me. I have greatest power when given away, yet lust for me keeps me locked away. What am I?

A coin.

Left, right, left again... The maze seems to stretch out forever (especially at your wee size). The rustling hedges are with you once more, closing in on all sides. Suddenly you see another flickering light source up ahead. Another potion to brew, perhaps?

No. The next clearing (there are numerous paths leading to it, so any initial spark of pride of having reached this part of the maze before anyone else is quickly extinguished) houses several burning torches, two doors, and, in front of them, a Sphinx. A living Sphinx. Very large, too.

Quick, what did you learn about them in Care of Magical Creatures... Are they aggressive? Are they even carnivorous? The Sphinx is sitting there utterly impassive, watching you calmly. She seems to know exactly what you're thinking – the intelligence in her eyes is almost unsettling – but she remains silent. Waiting.

And it goes on and on and onnnn.... and it goes on and on and onnnnn!

Fletcher just followed the path of the maze, throwing his hands up in the air sometimes and saying "Ayyy-oh," whenever it would suddenly and unexpectedly twist. He was more than a little creeped out by the rustling, giant hedges that shouldn't have been taller than him but were. They seemed to get closer and closer, narrower and narrower to him the longer he remained in this maze. But at last, the hedges seemed to broaden out again and shrink away from a light source up ahead.

"Ayyyyyy oh!" Fletcher called out with relief, stumbling into the clearing on his toddler-like toes. He looked about and the momentary glee had felt upon reaching this stage was quickly squashed. Merlin, there certainly were some other paths to the puzzle. No other champions --- big or small --- were in sight, however. Drat. He was probably in last place now.

Fletcher turned his head from right to left to take in the scene before him and that is when he saw it. His gaze actually slipped from the door on the left to the door on the right before he even noticed the statue-like creature plopped between them.

"A SPHINX?!" the boy exclaimed incredulously, taking a few unwise steps closer to the creature. "Are you really real?"

His question was answered as he looked up, up up and into the intelligent, seemingly all-knowing eyes of the beautiful sphinx. Yes, she was real all right. But was she waiting to pounce on toddler!Fletcher and devour him for a snack or was she waiting to test his courage and knowledge?

He thought she should have a chance to speak now. He'd already gone and showed all of his knowledge with that real intelligent question there.

Are you real? No, I'm just a figment of your tiny little toddler-infested brain, Fletcher. Carry on.

The Sphinx continues to simply regard the young man as if he hadn't spoken up at all. Even though, she practically radiates calmness, the way her eyes are always fixated on the Champion makes it quite obvious that she is ready to defend whatever she is protecting. Ready to attack. Ready to kill, should there be the need to.

After another moment of complete silence has passed, the creature finally shows some kind of reaction to the posed question. Her human lips slowly curl into a small smirk, her dark eyes still locked on the boy. "You may pass." And then with a rather intimidating raise of her eyebrows she added, "Or you may not. It all depends on you." A small pause ensued during which she regarded the boy once again, as if figuring out whether he was worth it.

In the end it seems he has proven himself worthy, as the Sphinx raises her head briefly and finally addresses the boy again,


"Deep in the wood in an orchard of old,
An apple tree grows, a sight to behold.
The branches are full and the limbs hand down.
It must be magic, there's none on the ground.

From the twisted old trunk, four branches sprout.
And from each long branch, fifteen twigs stick out.
From each of these, three ripe fruit dangle free.
Tell me the number of pears in the tree."