And before he knew it, they've moved on to the third task.

Salander climbed the stands for the third time, looking back at the circular maze that doesnt seem to offer anything else as to what's happening to the Champions. "Great, nothing to see again... maybe they should just put this on air so we could just listen to it in our warm common rooms... he muttered to himself. But deep down he knew that it was just the cold getting to him. This was the last task after all, his Prefect and his buddy have both made it to the final round as well as that one friend he made from the French delegates. So for all of his whining, the Slytherin lad would show up to support his friends come hell or high water.



As the lad walked the benches to find himself a seat, he heard the loudly obnoxious vuvuzela blaring just below him. He turned to see the Flying Professor, then smirked. The lad began to wonder.... well wouldnt hurt to ask would it? He bent low and tapped the Professor on the shoulder "Professor V!" he bellowed, making motions with his hand and pointing to the blaring trumpet "You got an extra of that?" Because what can be more fun than one annoying vuvuzela? How about two?