AN: Read, Review, Critique me to your heart's content, but if you flame me, I WILL find you, and I WILL troll you on whatever social media you use. Don't test me on this.
I use "words" as general speaking, "words" as French, and 'words' as thoughts.
UPDATE: Hey Folks. I've updated Ch 1 and Ch 2. I am proofreading Ch 3 and should have it up soon.
Disclaimer: I am secretly a multi-billionaire writer who gets her jollies trolling people with non-canon stories about her trademarked and officially licensed characters. No, really.
Fighting for air, she desperately swam for the surface, clawing her way toward the life-giving necessity she currently lacked. As she neared the surface, her only thought was to the sister she knew she left behind.
Gasping, she broke the surface of the lake, and made her way to shore, hoping against all odds that her sister would be returned to her.
"Gabby, I'm so sorry…", she whispered to herself.
Walking out of the lake, she was immediately surrounded by her parents, the Hogwarts mediwitch, and her headmistress. There were several others trying to get a look at her, and she only then became aware of the stinging claw marks adorning her legs and arms as the cold lake air touched them.
Gathered into a towel by her father, the young French witch was ushered into the tent where the mediwitch began to rub ointment into the still slightly bleeding wounds. Her skin would no longer be as smooth as it once was, as the grindylows were dark creatures, and thus left cursed scars. They would not be very visible, as a werewolf's would be, but Fleur would feel them for the rest of her life.
"How long has it been since the task started?" she asked her father.
"Nearly forty-five minutes." There was so little time. Would Gabby be alright?
"Now dear, I want you to let me know if these scars start to hurt, alright?" the mediwitch said. "And I'll give you some of this ointment for later, in case they crack. Damn tournament, putting children in such dangerous situations." she trailed off, bustling over to her shelf of lotions.
Fleur was less worried about the scars, and more worried about what would happen to that which she'll "sorely miss" when the hour was up, especially since it apparently "won't come back" when the task was over.
All of a sudden, she heard the crowd began to shout.
Rushing out of the tent, she saw the older Hogwarts boy swimming to shore, alongside the pretty Asian witch who he had gone to the Yule Ball with. As they reached the shore, Fleur hurried forward and tried to find out as much as she could from her fellow champion.
"Was there a little blonde girl down there? Is she alright?"
The boy nodded, "She was down there alright, but the merpeople were a little scary about anyone approaching her. It might have just been that they knew who our captives were, but I was in too much of a hurry to test any theories. Harry was still down there, though, so if push comes to shove, he'll probably get her back alright."
The other Hogwarts champion, the little boy. Who admittedly, had done far better than her in the first task. And given the older boy's seeming respect for this Harry, she hoped that he would manage to save her sister.
The crowd began to cheer again, this time largely in the Durmstrang sections, and Fleur caught sight of a large shark making its way to shore, a young witch being pulled along.
Hermione was at this point in time, soaked, annoyed, and slightly embarrassed, as Viktor Krum, Quidditch star extraordinaire, was hovering about her, making sure she was alright. She saw the French witch over with two people who looked to be her parents and began to make her way over to her.
"Are you alright?" she asked the anxious-looking witch.
Looking slightly surprised the girl was talking to her, let alone in her native tongue, Fleur replied, "I have been better, I am worried about my sister. Do you know if she is alright?"
Hermione shook her head, "Everything after meeting in Dumbledore's office last night is blank. I do know that we were not supposed to be in any danger, that the merfolk would return us after the hour was up."
Fleur felt slightly more at ease, but she continued to glance nervously out onto the water. Suddenly she gasped, as a trident soared out of the water, and two people came up after it, a redhead and a little blonde. She called out for her sister, and the duo began swimming as quickly as possible toward the shore. A spear, thrown from a young merman in pursuit, flew just past the redhead, whistling as it narrowly missed him. As they got closer, Fleur realized the redhead was badly wounded, bleeding from several gashes on his arms and legs, and a nasty puncture wound in his back. Gabby was unhurt, but frantic in her strokes, clawing for the safety of the shore. Several witches and wizards had their wands out, but the merfolk stayed at a distance, making it easier to dodge the spells thrown their way.
Dumbledore attempted to cease the hostilities but was largely ignored, until he cast a Sonorous charm and yelled for both sides to stop. A final beam of light shot from a young brown haired wizard, slightly gangly, who looked incensed, and slightly embarrassed that his was the last spell.
Dumbledore gave the boy a look, proud but reprimanding, and continued on, "Where is the fourth champion? Bring him forward."
The small group of merfolk glared at the headmaster and as one, turned and swam back toward their village, leaving the muttering crowd behind them.
Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, Triwizard Contestant, and all-around good guy, was having a very bad day.
He had had worse, but today was not going well for him.
He had woken up, showered, gotten dressed, and was on time for breakfast, but that was where his good day ended and his bad feelings began. He ate slowly, waiting for Ron and Hermione to come down and join him. He didn't see Ron in the Dormitory, so he had assumed he was already down here and expected Hermione to have come with him. As he ate, his nerves only grew as he saw first Cedric come in looking worried and like he lost someone or thing important to him, and then Fleur sprinted in, glanced over the occupants of the Great Hall, and sprinted back out. That was his first bad feeling.
The second bad feeling he got was when Moody approached him as he was making his way out of the castle towards the lake.
"Have ya got a plan yet, lad?" the ex-Auror asked gruffly.
"Yeah," Harry responded slowly, hesitant around the temperamental old man.
"Well let's hear it then! Can't have you going off half-cocked on some hare-brained scheme like a bubble-head charm."
In point-of-fact, that was not Harry's plan, but it was close. Harry and Hermione had worked out a plan to charm an old muggle diving mask imperturbable and impervious, then attach a small air tank with an overpowered air-freshening charm in it. Ron had actually been the inspiration for it after a case of mumblemumps began making the rounds of Gryffindor tower after the Yule Ball. Ron used the household air freshening charm to clear out the room once Seamus was found to have it, and Harry was intrigued at the possibilities. Hermione had then come up with the idea to combine the charm with a scuba mask, making use of the charms along the way. The air-freshening charm was a predecessor of the bubble-head charm which was developed by an industrious Half-Blood after seeing muggles diving in the Mediterranean.
"I don't see why I should tell you less than half an hour before the task begins. You'll see it in action then." Harry was slightly concerned at how much of an interest Moody was taking in him, especially since teachers weren't allowed to help the champions with the tasks.
"Because I've got something that blows that stupid bubble charm out of the water, and I happen to know the Diggory boy is going to be using that charm in the task."
"I appreciate your concern, but I'm good. Enjoy watching the task," Harry threw over his shoulder as he walked off.
As the champions dove into the frigid water, Harry gasped and wished he had worn a wetsuit or anything more that the swim trunks he had transfigured that morning. Thankfully, the mouthpiece was stuck in his mouth, so he didn't accidentally spit it out. Turning toward the center of the lake, Harry began to dive deeper and move forward, hoping to reach the mervillage with plenty of time to spare.
As he dove, Harry began to feel colder and colder, and the pressure in his ears was mounting. Working his jaw, he managed to pop his eardrums back to equal pressure, and continued on, working his jaw every now and again to avoid the sharp pain associated with the depth difference.
Coming up to a large kelp grove, he swam upwards a little to avoid going in and among the worst of the tangle. He remembered from last year the lesson on the water devils that lived in such places.
Clearing the weeds, he got his first look at the mervillage. It was dark, overgrown with mossy looking weeds, and the houses themselves were squat, ugly looking things. The merfolk were not much different. They had large black eyes and more closely resembled fish than humans.
As he approached the center of the village, he heard a beautiful voice singing the riddle, from next to a collection of pillars. Upon closer inspection, he saw that it was a larger version of the golden egg he had retrieved in the first task and that there were people attached to the pillars. Surrounding the town center were the inhabitants of the village, approximately 60 merfolk.
Ron, Hermione, Cho and a little blonde girl were all tied to the columns. Moving toward Hermione, as she was closest, the merpeople advanced threateningly, shaking their weapons and making negative noises. He backed off and approached Ron next. They let him approach, and he began to untie him when he sensed a threat behind him.
Spinning around, he spotted a half-transfigured Krum coming straight for him. Harry dodged out of the way, and the shark-man bit through the rope holding Hermione and began to circle back around to pick her up. Cedric swam up while Harry was distracted, cut Cho free, and began to make for the surface. Harry cut Ron free, but stuck around to make sure Krum got Hermione alright, and that Fleur got to her hostage safely.
Krum swam by, grabbed the drifting Hermione, and swam off, after glancing toward the surface and back at his opponent. Harry got the message and began to scan for Fleur, hoping she showed up soon.
After several minutes of waiting, Harry decided to grab the girl and swim away. Thinking that a swimming Ron would be better than a sleeping one, he cast the bubblehead charm on his friend, waking him up. Ron started awake, looked around, and spotting Harry gave him a questioning look. Harry pointed toward the blonde, his wrist, and then looked around. Ron nodded, and swam a few meters away, and waited.
Harry turned to look at the merfolk and their sharp weapons, sighed and cast a severing hex at the ropes binding the little girl. The merfolk yelled and began to charge toward the boy, one of them even throwing his net in the hope of slowing down the escaping pair. Ron gave a look to Harry that promised much ribbing and grabbed the girl's other arm as they began swimming for the surface.
Harry, Ron, and their charge had a slight head start, assisted by repelling charms Harry used to propel them along, but the mermish warriors were part fish and were making steady progress after them. Harry, seeing that they were close to the surface, pointed upwards and at the girl, and then turned to face the charging horde. Ron apparently understood the vague gestures, as he grasped the girl tighter and headed for the surface.
Harry, having planned for this exact thing to happen, had no plans whatsoever to deal with an oncoming group of mermish warriors. He thought over the spells he and Hermione had found, threw them all out, and figured his best hope was to distract as many of the group as possible. He hoped the delay would protect his friend and the other captive. Sending stinging hexes at the group, he began swimming away, drawing two-thirds of the group towards him. He could only hope the rest never made it close to the others.
Swimming as fast as he could, he made a break for the part of the lake bordered by the forest, near where he had performed the Patronus Charm last year. Hoping that the mermish warriors would give up before he reached the shore, he sent several repelling charms backward, giving himself a more comfortable lead with which to flee.
Breaking the surface of the lake, he immediately noted his surroundings, namely the forest. Running deeper into the woods, he had to avoid several spears thrown at him and narrowly avoided a trident. Feeling safer now that he was in the Forbidden Forest - even thinking that made him groan at how messed up his life was – he headed toward the side of the lake he started from.
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was having a bad, bad day. First, he woke up to find Fawkes' burning day had come sooner than expected, so he couldn't make any grand entrances or exits for the next few days. Slightly grumbling, he made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast. He decided on a slice of ham, scrambled eggs, and a particularly nice looking bowl of applesauce. Humming contentedly, he thought about the coming trials in store for the Triwizard champions and made his way back up to his quarters to change into appropriate clothes for judging exceptional teenagers in cold weather: a tall pointed hat with dancing polarbears, and a neon orange robe with palm trees. Happily, he searched for his pouch of lemon drops, and thus came the second great disappointment of Albus' day: Fawkes had decided the little brown pouch to be the perfect place to place his last gift to Albus before he died and was reborn. All Albus could think of was that the pouch had cost him three extra sickles to have his initials put on it, and he didn't have time to go buy a new one. So it was that Albus headed down to the lake, pouchless and bright orange, and not at all in the right frame of mind to deal with mermish warriors attempting to injure a student or three. He was also thoroughly amused by how much "gold" he found up his rather large (noble!) schnoz. But that wasn't useful in finding his missing protégé Harry Potter.
Ron had had worse days.
Being injured in the epic chess match was one of them, but it cemented and defined his friendship with Harry.
Going into the bloody Acromantula nest was pretty bad, but not as bad as knowing his sister was missing and finding that message written in her blood.
And while last year was great for Harry, finding out he had a dog-father and that he would have an easier time during the summers, Ron had ended up using a cane for a month after being completely bloody terrified when said dog-father kidnapped him and tried to kill his rat.
That said, he wouldn't trade any of those days for a mountain of gold. Each of them was spent with his best mates, and they only helped strengthen their bond, so even if he got jealous of Harry sometimes, he would never truly wish he had never met Harry Potter.
He still cursed the bloody twit up and down in his mind for getting him into these types of situations.
When he had come-to underwater in the bubble head charm, he was slightly surprised. He had been told he wouldn't wake up until he breached the surface of the lake. 'Guess Harry found a way around that little sleeping charm,' he thought ironically. No matter that it was Dumbledore himself who put them under, Harry did the impossible on a regular basis.
Following his lead in rescuing the little Delacour girl, he was really only waiting for things to go absolutely nutters, and for Harry to somehow manage to squeeze out another victory.
Having a village of Merfolk chasing you should usually be a good indicator that you should get away from whoever got you into this situation in the first place, but for Ron, this was a pretty normal Harry-related adventure.
When Harry had stopped to face the Mermish warriors on his own, Ron almost stayed with him, but without a wand, he was pretty much useless, and the Delacour girl needed to get away from the angry fish-people with pointy things. So he continued to swim as quickly as possible toward shore, thanking Merlin's snowy beard that Harry had at least woken him up to watch the madness ensue around him.
A sharp pain in his leg distracted him, and he looked back and saw a collared Grindylow attempting to slow him down. Apparently, the merfolk had hunting dogs. Sodding merpeople with their dark-creature pets. Kicking at it with his free leg, he kept going. A few seconds later another one grabbed onto his free arm. Continuing to swim, he eventually broke the surface. As he did, he felt a burning pain in his back and realized one of the spears must have hit him. He swam as quickly as possible toward shore, tugging the awakening girl along with him.
As she came more awake, she started swimming too, and they quickly reached the shore.
Quickly latched onto by Madame Pomfrey, he was led dripping and bleeding to the tent, and the last thing he saw was Neville's final shot at the merfolk.
'Heh, good on ya, Neville,' was his last conscious thought as he finally allowed himself to black out on the bed.
As Harry made his way toward the stands, all he could think about was what the mermen were angry about. He couldn't understand why they had reacted so violently when he had taken both captives, but they were completely against Harry taking the little blonde girl.
Maybe that was it! Maybe they wanted to keep the little blonde, and so when Harry took her, they reacted violently, thinking he was robbing them of their prize. That would also explain why one group had split off from chasing Harry to pursue Ron and the girl.
'But why wouldn't all of them chase after her if they just wanted to keep her for themselves? Most of them kept chasing me...'
Harry gave up trying to guess their motivations the moment he saw his best friend being led into the mediwitch tent. He looked really beaten up.
'Maybe the toughest warriors chased after them, and I just got the superior numbers angle. Doesn't matter. I've got to check on Ron, make sure he'll be okay,' he thought, as he ran into the tent. Ron was passed out on a bed and the French champion had the little blonde girl in her lap, while both were being wrapped in several blankets.
Madame Pomfrey looked up, saw Harry and literally growled. Harry shuddered.
"Mister Potter, what were you thinking, going and taking on a whole mermish village. Sit down!" she ordered, pushing him towards the only other empty bed in the tent, which suspiciously had a little owl on the headboard he remembered carving into a bed back in the hospital wing.
"Really? You brought down a separate bed, just for me? You have a lot of faith in my ability to get hurt, don't you Poppy?" he groused, inwardly touched that she cared.
"I know you too well Mister Potter, and you don't get to call me Poppy until you've gone more than a few months without needing my services. Now let's see what you've managed to do to yourself this time."
Harry ended up with a couple scars from the weaponsdippedingrindylowvenom, and a broken foot bone from kicking off one of the water demons before it could scar his leg. Ron had a broken toe, two broken ribs,andnumerousgrindylow scars on his arms, legs, and torso. Fleur's sister (he could see the resemblance now) ended up with some bruises from the tight grips the boys had as they fled the merfolk but otherwise escaped unharmed.
Fleur looked at the man who had saved her sister from the village and stayed behind to stall the warriors. She was unusually nervous around him, for no other reason than because she underestimated him. He had held off nearly a full village of mermish warriors for enough time to get her beloved sister to safety, then had the skill to escape nearly unharmed. She could no longer call him a boy, and to be honest, he wasn't truly little. Over the past months, she had seen him grow emotionally and physically, as the rigors of the tournament tested him, as they tested her and forced her to move past the petty feelings she often harbored towards the other girls of Beauxbatons. He was still young, but she could see the truth behind the rumors she often heard of him.
"What?" the object of her thoughts inquired.
"Hu- oh, sorry, just lost in thought. I wanted to thank you again for saving my sister."
Harry blushed. She had kissed him soundly once Gabby was safely asleep, and he apparently was still thinking about it. How adorable!
"I-it was nothing. Anyone would have done it."
"But that's just it, you did it. Not Cedric, not Viktor. And while I am grateful to your friend, he would not even have been conscious if you had not woken him up. You are the one who put his life on the line to distract the mermish and you who then escaped nearly unharmed from a large band of their best warriors. Don't underplay your feats, 'Arry."
Harry just blushed brighter and looked down. He glanced back up, saw her looking intensely at him, and looked away. He sighed. "I can understand why you feel that way, but it doesn't change my reasoning. Anybody would have done as I did if they were in the position I was in." Another sigh, and quieter, he haltingly begins, "I-I know you think I'm just a little boy, but I know what it means to do your best under pressure, and still fail. I didn't want you to lose what you treasure most simply because I wasn't brave enough to go against the rules."
Fleur was about to protest the 'little boy' comment when she realized some of the undertones in the comment he just made. Being under pressure and failing to rise to meet it is a hard lesson to learn, one she had to know far too early, even before her attempts at making friends in her first year failed. She knew most witches and wizards didn't learn that lesson until much later in life, mostly due to the convenience of magic. If Harry had learned such a lesson at his age, then he was something indeed special among his peers. She only hoped he didn't really possess the true depth that knowledge required, as it was a heavy burden to bear.
"I want to explain that I know what it is to feel like you are powerless. Like you have failed to meet expectations. When I got to Beauxbatons, I was isolated because my veela heritage had begun to emerge. I am not powerful like my grandmother, nor do I have as much conscious control of my allure, which is thankfully weaker than her or my mother's. By the age of 13, I was the most sought after girl in the school, and by the age of 16, I was inundated with marriage requests. I politely but firmly turned them all down. I would not become a tool for a man I did not love, and even now I must fight off suitors. There are very few people who are immune to a Veela's allure, and so I must slog through the crowds every time I walk the halls of the school. I hope to one day find someone who will love me for me."
Fleur was reluctant to reveal all her secrets atonce, but sensed that Harry knew how it felt to be on the outside of your school, and she hoped to help him deal with some of the stresses involved in that.
The next day, Harry entered the Great Hall for breakfast, and everyone started gossiping and whispering. But for the first time, Harry didn't care. He was oblivious to the world around him, seemingly pondering on some deep inner conflict. In reality, he was thinking about last night, Fleur, and their talk. He thought back to after Fleur went silent.
They had avoided looking into each other's eyes, each having seen something they hadn't seen before. Harry had been the one to break the silence this time. He struggled to find the words, but eventually settled on simple truths.
"I was raised by my mother's muggle sister and her family. They dislike magic in a most profound yet ignorant way. Petunia, my aunt, hates magic because it stole her sister from her. I learned from a young age that the fact I existed was a personal slight in her eyes. To Vernon, I exemplified everything he would never be: special. And he hated me for it. Dudley was a simple child who reveled in his parent's love and learned that hating me and hurting me made them proud, so he did his best to make his parents happy.
"When I was 3, I was physically abused for the first time. Nothing serious, just a whack to my head to 'keep my freak hands away from Dudley's toys.' It got slightly worse each time I did something wrong and escalated quickly if it was at all magical.
"At the age of 5, I first learned my name when the teacher called the roll and told me to raise my hand when "Harry Potter" was called. Before that, I thought I was called 'boy' or 'freak', and for many years after that, I still answered to those names.
"By the age of seven, I would cook breakfast, clean the downstairs, eat a small snack while fixing lunch, then begin gardening. I would work till Vernon was home, then start on dinner. If I was lucky, I would eat after they had finished, clean up the dishes, and then quietly clean the upstairs. I would be in my cupboard by 10, and be up by 6 to start all over.
Harry sighed, and leaned forward, their eyes connecting, blue starting to shine from unshed tears and green hard as emerald.
"I'm telling you these things so you know I can understand. I see it in your eyes, that you realize what it really means when I say I lost my childhood a long time ago if I ever had it."
Harry leaned back, breaking the eye contact. Fleur blinked a few times, wiping her eyes.
"It is my turn to say I'm sorry. I thought you were a little boy when now I see you were never given the chance. I'm sorry 'Arry."
Harry shook his head, clearing it and bringing his attention back to the Great Hall. He looked around, realized he had eaten on autopilot and that the Hall was beginning to empty out, the students going back to their dorms or out onto the grounds to enjoy the snowfall. He looked up as a figure moved over to him, and smiled as Hermione sat down. She had spent the evening with Krum and come back late to the dormitory Ron had told him, and she had been slightly flustered, but very happy.
Harry grinned at her, "Enjoy your evening?"
"It was very nice if you must know," Hermione blushed. "Viktor and I spent the evening talking, and we came to the decision that we would see where the relationship would take us. We kissed, and it turned a little heavier. He was a perfect gentleman, though, and backed off even before I really began to feel uncomfortable." She blushed again. "I really like him, Harry."
"I'm glad."
They sat in companionable silence, each trusting the other, but each lost in their own thoughts on the events of the previous day.