A maze.

The big paranoia that was gripping Raiden as he stood at the entrance was because of the memory of his research. A maze on the Quidditch Pitch. Sure, it had been the third task last time, but... well. Someone had died.

Even if it hadn't been due to the task, per se.

Drawing a breath, he cast a look over his shoulder, then up at the stands. One hand pressed against his right wrist, as if to ensure his holster and its contents were still there. The thought that at least the spectators could see them this time ran through his head. Though... somehow he wasn't sure it would ease any minds.

Deep, calming breaths.

And just step forward.

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.

With a gentle twitch of his arm, the young champion's wand was in his hand, and he took tentative steps forward; it was easier to have it out and ready, after all. This was the Triwizard Tournament, and logic dictated that they would throw somewhat... well, that they would throw things at him that he would need to defend himself from.

Apparently, however, the first thing he was to come across wasn't a creature or a rogue plant, or anything that felt even remotely physically threatening, at least at first. The table with the potions on it was easy to see, but he wasn't about to step up to it immediately. He instead let his eyes flicker around the small area. There... was a door, but it was far too little for any normal human person. Discouraging, as it led him to the table, and he picked up the parchment.

...Raiden didn't like riddles.

Mostly because riddles weren't straightforward. He didn't expect things to be easy, of course, but... well. He just wasn't wired for riddles. So the prefect swallowed hard on the lump of worry in his throat and read the words on the paper over several times.

Nope. Still didn't like it any more than he had a moment ago.

Two that caused... pain? Oh good, so they wouldn't kill him, just make him wish it were so. How lovely. Another that caused euphoria, which could be good or bad, depending on how his mental state fared in such circumstances. One to grow, which would be useless for getting through the door but probably imperative when on the other side... and one to shrink.

"Alice had it so much easier," he muttered to himself, frowning and tapping his wand absently on the edge of the table. "No riddles, just 'eat me' and 'drink me' written on everything..."

Trust not the phials' size... so the shrinking one wasn't in the small one, as one would automatically assume. And two that caused pain, or the intense urge to be dead...

Well there were two phials that looked the same. With a small tap of his wand, Raiden made a mark on the table in front of each of them. They could be those two. Right?

Which meant... if the shrinking one was between 'euphoria' and 'pain'... then...

His fingers brushed over the green phial questioningly, as if merely touching it would tell him. If the purple ones were the bad ones, then... the orange was euphoria.

Which made the blue one the growing one. Which was why, after tapping it gently with his wand to make sure it wouldn't break or open unexpectedly, he slipped it into his pocket. He'd probably need it on the other side of the door, wouldn't he? Unless everything in the maze had been miniaturised for this task, which was just silly. And if he had to come back this way to escape the maze... well the table was probably too high and the bottle would likely be slightly too large for him to handle.

Before he could second-guess himself, he picked up the green one and took a sip off of it.

Merlin, please let him be right. Or at least only a little wrong, in the way of the euphoria thing.

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 onward through the maze, answer the following riddle:

We are very little creatures; all of us have different features. One of us in glass is set; one of us you'll find in jet. Another you may see in tin, and a fourth is boxed within. If the fifth you should pursue, it can never fly from you. What are we?

Ohhhh he hated this task a little bit more already. There was one thing in this world he absolutely hated, and it was happening. He could practically feel his entire being changing as he shrank. Small... smaller... he closed his eyes, fingers slipping from the edge of the table as it grew over him.

"I hate magic sometimes..." Merliiiiin. He wobbled where he stood, body finally stopping in its treacherous miniaturisation. "At least it was the right one."

Now he just... had to find the...

...uhoh.

"Greaaaat."

Tugging his jacket straight, he looked left and right, hands kneading the back of his neck in frustration. Riddles. Whyyy did it have to be riddles. The first thoughts went to physical objects, bugs actually... but that didn't fit everything, did it.

Glass... jet... tin...

But the last two weren't defined in the same way. Boxed within... fly from you?

"...you?"

Riddles seemed horribly difficult sometimes but when you found the answers, they seemed terribly easy and made you feel dumb. You was a word, but it was also...

"Vowels. A, E, I, O, U."

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.

"Why is there-" Thwack. "-even still grass-" Thwack, shove. "-in winter."

Obviously it had been put there just to get in the way, but it was still irksome. Raiden was trying to listen intently as he moved between the coarse blades, but it was made a bit difficult.

...didn't miss the giggling, though.

"Aiiish," he muttered under his breath, fingers tightening around his wand automatically. What was it. Faerie? Pixie? How many small magical creatures giggled? Hopefully it wasn't anything big enough to eat him...

Right. Had to get out of here. If he weren't so worried about blades of grass falling on him and/or trapping him, a few diffindos might've helped...

He tried to move forward, quieter than before. He was fairly sure he didn't want whatever was chuckling to find him.

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?

Moving quietly proved to be quite a chore, but he'd count it as a success, as he wasn't attacked from behind by any creatures... Raiden finally stumbled out of the high grass and into a clearing, and was immediately struck by the warmth of the fire.

Which was under a cauldron. A rather big cauldron. Next to a rather big table.

Twitch.

Lafay was probably laughing herself stupid in the stands over this entire thing, wasn't she. The prefect climbed up onto the table, and immediately snatched up the parchment.

More riddles. Lovely. Except this time, whatever was in there could likely kill him, or whoever went in at it, if he was wrong. One mismatched ingredient changed the entire potion, and its purpose. Which meant he had to be sure. Very, very sure.

Wandering back and forth in front of the phials of ingredients, his eyes flickered from the page to the assembly. Even if he figured out what was meant... he'd still have a trial getting them in there. And who knew if he was meant to get any of the potion out of the cauldron afterwards.

Right. Riiiiight. Sitting down cross-legged on the table top, he with a tap of his wand conjured another piece of parchment. Writing down each ingredient's name, he went about his work.

The second was kinda obvious, at least he hoped. Itch all day... chizpurfles were like the magical version of fleas. And they were one of the few things capable of 'escape' on the list. He circled that and then looked at what remained.

All the plants were immediately crossed off. They didn't require 'catching'.

But then he was stuck. Because doxies and lionfish were both generally thrown away in most cases, what with doxies being pests and lionfish being, well... extremely venomous and their spines were very painful. Pufferfish as a whole were kept sometimes because you could eat parts of them... lacewing flies were certainly kept, as they were an ingredient in polyjuice potion and possibly quite a few more.

This would be easier if he could look into the cauldron. But the ladder was slightly too short... Standing, Raiden tried to use his vantage point on the tabletop to see if there was a normal-sized door around that he could escape this place with. If it was still a little door, then he couldn't un-shrink without getting stuck here. Unless the potion he was making was a shrinking solution, but he very much doubted that.

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

Of course. Of course he wouldn't be able to see anything useful from where he was. Wouldn't be the Triwizard Tournament if it were fair to him, would it.

With a sigh, the prefect flicked his tiny-fied wand at the frozen chizpurfles and silently cast at them. Wingardium Leviosa should get them into the cauldron fairly easily. He'd worry about other issues when they presented themselves.

Riddles. Raiden didn't like riddles. Merrr.

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. ...Shudder.

A small scrap of parchment, almost hidden completely underneath the phial, catches your eye. Glad for the distraction, you retrieve it.

He hadn't expected there to be another riddle under the chizpurfles. Probably should have anticipated that, seeing as they certainly wouldn't make it easy on him.

Although this one seemed fairly easy. Seeing as there was no creature cobbled together from such things, it was another word puzzle.

Dragon, Troll, Fox, Plimpy.

Head meant first, so... D.

Middle of 'troll' was an O.

End of 'fox' was X.

And the tail end of 'plimpy' was a Y.

Doxy. Doxy eggs. Raiden flicked his wand at those and cast a levitation charm. They had to go in next, then. Hopefully.

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 defense mechanism or something?

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

Hmmm. Note to self: avoid ever putting face too close to doxy eggs, ever. Raiden wrinkled his nose before putting his left arm over his nose and mouth; it was difficult, breathing through a jacket sleeve, but better than breathing in the smell of the eggs.

With them out of the way, the young man spied yet another piece of parchment, and wrinkled his nose again; this time, in an expression of distaste, not outright disgust.

Moreeee riddles. How many more would there be? He read it, chewing absently on his lip as he wandered back and forth. It obviously wasn't one of the creature-based ingredients this time...

It didn't take long to figure it out. He'd seen fluxweed before, after all. And he'd read enough to know that it was meant to be picked at midnight during a full moon, at least for Polyjuice Potions.

He was probably one of the few in Hogwarts that actually looked up Polyjuice potion solely for studying purposes.

In would go the fluxweed. He flicked his wand at that, next, and carefully levitated it.

The swirling, thin potion now glows with a cerulean hue. Right away you notice the taste is terrible. Did you mix it wrong? But even as you fret, you start to grow again. Careful not to bump your head on the table.

As you regain your regular height, the hedges in front of you change as well, pushing themselves apart to reveal a narrow opening. Which way will you go?

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

What goes down the dungeon with four legs, but comes back with eight?

Ah. He should've known. Even as he coughed at the taste, his body started growing, and he felt the bitter stab of wasted time. Could've just drawn off the potion in his pocket and saved himself the trouble.

Still, there was no knowing what had been in there before, so it wasn't a big deal, at least to him. He'd done it right, and that was all that mattered.

Though he rather wished that he'd had the option of just eating sweets as Alice had done. Nasty tastes would linger in his mouth for a while.

Giving himself a cursory once over, just to make sure everything was in order, he took a step or two toward the opened area. Was that where he had to go? Eyes roamed about, looking for less obvious openings that maybe didn't require a riddle answered to pass.

Because his immediate answer for this one was 'an innocent creature who found itself crossing the path of a potions mistress with a poor disposition' and that probably wasn't what they wanted.

Biting his tongue, he thought on it. For quite a bit. If he cut out the idea that potions was down that way, it helped him focus a bit. What regularly went down to the dungeons?

Slytherins, but they didn't grow limbs at will. Spiders already had the secondary requirement, and he very much doubted they went in with less than they came back with. Cats, like Roscoe, who went down there to-

...ah.

"An animal gone hunting," he mused. "A cat what's caught a rat."

Merlin knew Roscoe had come up from the depths of the dungeons more times than he could count, carrying an extra set of legs attached to the dead creature dangling from his kitty fangs.

Left, right, left again... The maze seems to stretch out forever. 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.

It was like Defence class all over again. Weaving through a maze, eyes wide and ears straining to hear should anyone or anything come his way. He'd almost begun to wonder what was going on when he finally reached another clearing.

Oh god.

Raiden's entire body seemed to go cold at once. Fingers tightened around his wand til his knuckles had gone an unsettling shade of white. This huge creature that he'd only seen in books... this couldn't really be he-

Triwizard Tournament, Raiden. Don't be an idiot.

The young man held his breath for a moment, squashing back the slightly dizzying fear that flooded one automatically when one came across a creature much larger than oneself. If he remembered correctly... the sphinx wouldn't grow violent right off, right? It... only got mad if you gave the wrong answer to its riddle.

Breathe, Raiden. Breathe.

Keeping his distance well enough that, should this sphinx not be inclined to riddles, it wouldn't be able to reach him immediately, he looked to the woman's face at the front of its body.

"May I go past you please, Miss Sphinx?" he asked hesitantly. Best to ask, even if he was fairly sure of the answer to that.

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." 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,

Of course it depended on him. Couldn't be easy, could it. The young man pressed his lips together, teeth setting themselves against the inside and biting down as he tried to think.

Still didn't like riddles. He was sure Stern was much more inclined to this type of task than he.

Taking a half-step back, his eyes searched the ground aimlessly as his foot tapped. He wasn't really looking for anything, more hoping that the answer would reach out from the grass and wave merrily as it presented itself to him.

Liquid in nature... like water? But was, so it wasn't water any longer. Ice? But ice often came with its own scars already, white striations sprinkled within, and if broken, it would simply melt back to water and be unscarred. This riddle seemed to want something that was sort of... more permanently scarred.

Like water, but wasn't? Like ice, but didn't melt away when shattered.

...shattered. Breakable, and apparently easily done so, because you couldn't push it too far.

His left hand slipped into his pocket absently, and a fingernail began tapping the surface of the phial he'd confiscated from the first clearing. The muffled tink didn't really register in his head for a few minutes, but when it did, he slipped the phial out and stared at it.

Hm.

"It's glass," he murmured. "Glass had to be liquid before it can be whatever you want it to be, and if it breaks, it's impossible to hide the shatter lines. Scars."

Liquid, if only briefly, in nature. Breakable - press a hand against a windowpane too hard and it would like shatter under your palm. Drop one in the kitchen and you'd be sweeping for days. Prone to scars when broken. He looked up at the sphinx, fingers still tight around his wand, just in case.

"You're glass."

For a few minutes there is no visible reaction from the Sphinx as the champion finally attempts to answer the riddle. No reaction. Neither positive, nor negative. She is just regarding him with unreadable dark eyes with her head slightly cocked to one side, considering his answer.

Then, all of a sudden, the Sphinx bows her head gracefully before taking a step back. However not to get ready to attack but rather to move out of the way, allowing the champion to pass.

The silence, and the impassable look in the sphinx's eyes, was rather worrisome. His left hand shoved the phial back into his pocket, and he stood rooted to the spot, wide-eyed gaze not moving from the creature.

He might have flinched ever so slightly when she finally did move. And it was a good thing he seemed to have gotten it right, at least by her reaction, because he wasn't sure exactly how to escape from a sphinx...

After watching her for a moment, he took a few wobbly steps forward before stopping again. Two doors... which was he meant to take?

Glancing at the sphinx again, he haltingly reached one hand toward one of the doors.

"You're... do you know which I'm meant to..."

She was a sphinx. She wouldn't tell him, would she.

The Sphinx was watching the Champion's tentative steps towards the two doors impassively. However, when the boy addressed her yet again, she inclined her head ever so slightly towards the right one the two doors. Then she went back to regarding him again calmly.