A/N: Sorry for keyboard and sleep deprivation typos. *hangs head*
Chapter 29: The Second Task
Hogsmeade was bustling with activity as usual, but it seemed even more busy with the addition of the foreign guests mingled in with the Hogwarts students. Ginny, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had commandeered a nice table at the Three Broomsticks with butter beers and food taking up space between them as they chatted.
"He looks unpleasant," Ron said as he flicked his eyes to where Igor Karkaroff was nursing a drink of what looked like something that would kick you in the teeth and leave you moaning on the floor. Odd vapors came off the surface of the mug he was holding.
"That drink looks positively lethal," Harry whispered.
Ginny and Hermione exchanged glances.
"It looks like something that belongs in one of Snape's cauldrons…" Ginny whispered.
Vik fluttered down onto the table and began to tug at the pile of chips in front of Ron. He grasped one and dragged it across the table to Ginny and chirped.
Ginny giggled as Ron scowled. "That little feathered git just stole my chip."
Ginny ate the chip with a giggle, scratching the hippogriff on the chin.
Ron glared at Ginny. "You trained him to filch food for you?"
Ginny looked at her brother innocently.
"Psh," Ron grunted. "I'm glad there is only one of those buggars."
Ginny grinned.
"Harry, are you ready for the second trial?" Hermione asked.
"As ready as I can be," Harry said, taking a really big swig of his butter beer.
"I wonder what you'll have to find at the bottom of the lake?" Ginny asked.
"What did it say again?" Ron asked.
"We've taken what you'll sorely miss/ An hour long you'll have to look/ And to recover what we took," Harry recited.
"I wonder what they'll take… what would you sorely miss, Harry?" Ginny asked.
"His broom," Ron snickered.
Harry made a face as if to deny he cared so much for his beloved broom, but failed utterly.
"I bet you love being able to just come to Hogsmeade now, eh Harry?" Ginny asked.
"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Much better than last year."
"Have you finished moving all of your stuff into the new place?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah, it didn't take long at all," Harry confessed. "It's not like the Dursleys really let me have much of my own stuff anyway."
"Well, you'll just have to fill your new space up with your stuff, Harry," Hermione said.
Harry grinned. "I'm glad I have a place to fill up."
All of those gathered at the table were in perfect agreement that Harry was better off with Sirius, even if the Dursleys hadn't been the best example of dysfunctional and abusive family life.
There was a slam of a mug down on one of the far tables, and the group of Gryffindor stared towards the source.
Igor had taken a giant swig of the horrible looking drink he had been nursing for the past hour. Wiping his face with his sleeve, he stood, storming out of the Three Broomsticks with a dour expression on his face.
Little Vik dove into Hermione's hair with a worried chirp.
"I wonder what his story is," Ginny pondered.
Hermione shook her head. "I'm sure it's complicated. No one drinks whatever that horrible concoction was without… having issues they are dealing with. Just looking at the drink was unnerving."
"Any idea what it was?" Harry asked.
"Somehow I doubt it's on Rosmerta's standard drink menu," Ginny replied. She looked at Hermione, who was staring at the place Igor had vacated with an almost eerie focus. Ginny poked Hermione. "What has you so focused?"
Hermione took a deep breath and shook her head. "Sorry, just thinking."
"Well enough of that on a Saturday," Ginny nudged her with her elbow.
"I say we go and visit Honeydukes," Harry suggested.
"Great idea," Ginny nodded, standing up and shooing everyone on their feet to leave.
"I'm going, I'm going," Ron complained. "You're so pushy."
Ginny proceeded to push Ron ahead of her and out the door.
Harry exchanged glances with Hermione and shrugged, following after.
Hermione shook her head and trailed after him.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
"What's with the fabric, Hermione?" Harry asked, reaching out to feel the fabric between his fingers. It was a soft and almost silken fabric in a modest dusty rose color.
"It's a really long story," Hermione chuckled.
Harry handed her a honey stick he had bought from Honeydukes. "Try me."
"Remember Winky? The drunken house-elf that served Barty Junior?" Hermione asked, chewing on the honey stick with her teeth to break open the end and pillage the sweet honey within.
"Sure," Harry said. "Hard to forget that visual."
"She was hurting herself trying to get back into the Crouch family's good graces again by trying to complete what Junior started. She'd been given clothes. That's why she was drinking so much. She was desperate," Hermione explained.
"Wait," Harry interrupted. "You're saying she wanted to be in servitude?"
Hermione nodded. "I've started to realize that Dobby was not the best example of house-elf attitude I could have taken to heart," she admitted. "Winky was going insane trying to get back in good graces of her Masters. The only way to cancel out the compulsions to carry out Barty's orders was… binding her to someone else. Otherwise, Dumbledore said, the Aurors would have taken her away and… subdued her by any means neccessary."
"Hermione," Harry stalled her. "Did you just admit you were wrong about house elves?"
"Harry James Potter," Hermione huffed. "Did you just skip over everything I just said and focus on me being wrong?"
Harry grinned at her.
Hermione slumped.
"Seriously, Hermione," Harry said. "What could she have have possibly wanted to do that would have Aurors involved?"
Hermione's face went serious. "Remember that dream you told Ron and I about?"
"Yeah, sure," Harry nodded. "Creepy graveyard. Old guy being killed."
"Remember how you said that Barty Junior looked like the guy from your dream?" Hermione said.
"Yeah," Harry said. "If the dream hadn't keep happening so often, I might have mistaken him, but I'm sure it was the same guy from my dream… even though he changed into… whatever that was he turned into."
"Winky was his family's house elf," Hermione explained. "Bartimus Crouch gave her clothes after the incident at the Quidditch World Cup. She was desperate to make things right and have a home again. Junior planted the idea in her head that is she did what he required of her, he would take her back."
"But, Hermione," Harry said with a shake of his head. "How does that explain you getting fabric?"
Hermione took a deep breath. "Professor Dumbledore wanted to end her compulsion, so she could function again, but the only one way to do that was to form the bond with her."
"So, why didn't Professor Dumbledore bond with her?" Harry asked.
"He tried, but there was no respect between her and him," Hermione elaborated. "The bond didn't take. She was ready to beat herself bloody to get out and finish what she started."
"And what was that, Hermione?" Harry looked worried, perhaps knowing the answer before she even said it.
"Isolate you from your friends, make a port key out of the Tri-Wizard cup, and deliver you to her Master's Master," Hermione said grimly, having gone over every horrible detail during the bonding process with the distressed house-elf.
"To deliver me to Voldemort…" Harry whispered.
Hermione nodded sadly.
"Why does it always end up coming back to me?" Harry sighed. He looked tired and weary.
"Harry," Hermione said. "It's not your fault, and we'll be here for you. You don't have to be alone anymore. The time when you were the boy no one cared about living in the broom closet is over. You have a home… people who love you. And whatever happens, I will do my best to be there for you too."
Harry's haunted look lightened, and he leaned into her with a nudge of his shoulder. He seemed to realize the conversation had been derailed. "So, why did Professor Dumbledore ask you to bond with Winky?"
"I saved her life during the fight in the Great Hall," Hermione said with a tired smile. "She respected me enough that the bond was possible."
"You realize how odd it is for you of all people to have a house-elf, right?" Harry snickered, handing Hermione a pumpkin pastie.
Hermione blushed as she bit into the pastie. "I'll admit I made premature judgments without all the facts about house-elves, but you need to admit that Dobby didn't exactly give any of us the real story either."
Harry looked sheepish. "I may have left some of the stories out that could have given you better information."
"Harry!"
The black-haired wizard looked at his friend apologetically. "Hey this thread would go with that fabric, and these buttons are beautiful."
"You're right, those would be perfect!" Hermione plucked up the thread and buttons with the fabric and walked to the register.
"Do you think Ron and Ginny are still knee deep into Spintwitches?" Harry asked as Hermione paid for her items and tucked them away.
"Undoubtedly," Hermione snickered. "I'm surprised you aren't there, oogling at all the Quidditch items."
"I have my broom, I don't really need the memorabilia," Harry snickered.
"Who are you, and what have you done to my friend, Harry Potter?" Hermione gave him a sidelong glance.
Harry laughed. "I swear, it's me."
They walked out of the store together, chuckling.
"Hermione?" questioned Harry.
"I am worried about Monday," he confessed. "What if I can't find whatever is they stole from me? What if it's… the picture of my parents hidden in the mud on the bottom of the lake, and I don't get to it in time… and it's gone forever?"
Hermione stopped walking and spun harshly, grabbing Harry in her arms into a tight hug. "Harry, you're a brave and great wizard. You just have to believe in that."
Harry looked at her with shaky confidence. "I never wanted to be in the limelight. I just wanted to be me, but… things just keep happening to me.
Hermione smiled at him. "Harry, you can be you and be a great wizard. That doesn't mean you're asking for bad things to happen to you. Things are happening to you, I'm not denying that, but it's not your fault they are, you know?"
Harry grinned. "How is it you know exactly what I'm thinking and call me out for it?"
"That's what friends do," Hermione smirked.
Harry caught her up in a hug, clinging to her desperately in the snow. "No, that's what family does," he said into her ear. He pulled away, and his eyes smiled with the rest of his face. "My blood family is… not something I'm proud of, but I'd like to think I've gained better family than blood gave me."
Hermione gave Harry a brilliant smile.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
"What happened?" Hermione rushed up to the group of Durmstrang. A small group of them were gathered around one their own, but the student looked a bit bedraggled.
"Rurik stood in way of High Master," one of the other students said in explanation.
"Never goes well," another said.
Rurik was nursing his cheek, which was red and starting to bruise.
"What did you say to him?" Hermione asked, pulling a small tin out from her robe. She removed the lid and dipped her fingers in, then started to smear it across Rurik's cheek.
Rurik winced slightly, but tolerated her ministrations. "Bolshoe spasibo, sestrá," the Russian student said softly as she finished rubbing the salve on his face. "Said nothing," he answered her belatedly. "Just in way."
Hermione managed to look horrified. "He busted your face because you were in his way?"
"Normally… am not so slow," Rurik said with a weak smile. "Was not paying attention."
"That's hardly an excuse," Hermione grumbled.
"We are, unfortunately, used to it," Nathan said, stepping into the crowd of students. He inspected Rurik's face critically and gave him a sad smile. "The rest of the school is not molded to his example, thankfully."
"Harry and I saw your High Master having a drink at the Three Broomsticks earlier today," Hermione said. "I'm not sure what he was drinking, but it looked positively awful."
"Marko would know," Nathan said, nudging the tall student beside him with his elbow.
Marko darted his eyes as though caught in a trap. "What?"
Nathan smirked. "You know what odd drinks the High Master is usually drinking."
"Oh, da," Marko smirked, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. "If it was dark blue, vith bubbles, dhat is relaxing drink. If it vas dark green, vith strange vapors… dhat is calming drink… someting you drink vhen nerves are everywhere. If red and angry… is varming drink vhen cold."
"It was definitely the vapor one," Hermione recalled.
"Hrm," Marko said with a shrug. "Explain bad temper then."
"Challenge is soon," Rurik said. "Everyone worried or excited."
"Sometimes both," Nathan said.
"Well, I hope that our next conversation is not while I while I patch up your face, Rurik," Hermione chuckled.
"Am Russian," Rurik said as if that explained everything. "Will be okay, sestrá."
"Psh," Marko said. "Worse tings in Homeland dhan Karkaroff. One day, maybe, he meet one.
The other boys nodded in agreement, murmuring to each other.
Hermione shook her head at their calm reasoning over something she would probably not accept so gracefully.
"Come on, brothers, time to take our letters and parcels to the post, before our families think we've forgotten how to write and are hiding news," Nathan redirected his fellows, making a shooing motion.
The group grinned at each other.
"See you again soon, sestrá," they chimed, hustling off towards the post office with haste.
Hermione smiled as she watched them go.
Ginny poked her head out of Gladrags and waved her arm to her. "Hermione! Come on! We're picking out socks for Dobby!"
Hermione laughed, hustling to join her friends.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
There was virtual mismatch of animals parts tangled up in the middle of his drawing room, and Severus could barely tell where one ended and the other began.
The fire in the hearth was blazing, sending a comfortable heat throughout the room, joined with the combined body heat of one sprawled gryphon and a simurgh that were tangled up on a flop pile, fast asleep.
If the two patchwork animals didn't make an interesting enough visual, a large black and blond brindled serpent was woven in between the wings and fur, making use of the gratuitous body heat the two were putting out.
The serpent flicked his tongue out lazily, gray slitted eyes were watching him, unblinking.
"A little far from your native central Australian semi-arid habitat, Draco?" Severus rumbled softly, as he transferred an armful of scrolls onto his writing desk. "Come here, and let me look at you."
Draco gave a fang filled yawn and slithered out from between the gryphon and simurgh lazily, crept across the floor in a silent side to side motion, and curled around Snape's extended hand and arm.
Severus lifted him as he sat back on his comfortable couch, running his hand across his scales. His eyes flicked back and forth to examine his coloration. Caught in between winter and summer, his scale colors were half brindled, but his head and back had a darker caramel brown that gradated into an almost black, glossy appearance towards the head. Perfect for absorbing all important sun during the winter season in a native habitat but probably not so vital in an animagus with access to warm hearth fires and the elevated body heat of animagi allies.
Severus had to admit, even without being a reptile himself, the surrounding warmth of his chambers when his Apprentice and her suitor were present made the environment infinitely more comfortable and less, dare he think it, dungeon-like.
Severus smirked, releasing Draco with a stroke of his hand over his scales. "Leave it to you to end up as an inland taipan in Europe. At least you won't stick out as badly as say… a king cobra."
Draco yawned lazily, slithering back into the pile of warm bodies by the hearth, ever the reptile, only now physically as well as in character.
Taking in a breath, Severus transferred himself to the floor, reaching out to soothe the feathers on Hermione's head.
Hermione opened one eye sleepily, chirping a drowsy greeting to him. Her mind was relaxed and fuzzy, welcoming his touch both mentally and physically, but was happily lethargic as she enjoyed the safety of his chambers.
Her willingness to share the company of both her suitor and Draco in the middle of Severus' quarters was a type of demonstrative trust. She was saying there was nothing going on between them that she would hide from him, she was not ashamed of anything she was doing, and she wanted Severus to know what was going on in her life outside of the classroom and apprenticeship.
It was no small gift or trust she gave him, and through her, she bridged the trust of others to him. It was enough to boggle the mind of Severus Snape, whose track record with trust, being trusted, or trusting others was… less than a stellar example. Even Albus' supposed trust in him was riddled with the suspicion that his trust in him hinged on his belief in Severus' guilt over the past rather than the man himself.
As his hand gently soothed her feathers and the scent of her infused the air, he rubbed the area below her head, soothing the skin of her neck with long strokes.
Hermione chirped softly, rubbing against his hand with a slight clacking of her beak.
"Minerva wishes to speak with you this evening," Severus said quietly. "She has the Weasley twins out looking for you."
The drowsy gryphon yawned beakily and laid her head in his lap, looking up at him appealingly.
"I'm afraid I cannot save you from Minerva this time, my Apprentice," he said, soothing her "ears" gently. "I believe this is an official sort of summons."
Hermione chirped sadly, curving her beak around Viktor's back, who woke drowsily, eyes opening half way as he rolled over on his back and his paw patted her on the beak, batting at it lazily.
Draco, dislodged by the roll-over from his warm place, hissed softly in annoyance, changing back into his human form and warming himself by the fire.
Severus smirked. "At this rate, I am going to have to expand my chambers, and how exactly am I going to explain that need to Albus, hrm?"
Three pairs of eyes looked at him curiously.
"Mmhmm," Severus grunted, pushing himself off the floor and going to his desk.
Hermione stood slowly, stretching out from beak tip to tail tip. Viktor tangled his legs around her neck and pulled her back down. She squeaked, rolling over on him, her tail smacking against the nearby table, dislodging a plate that looked like it was about to take a plunge to the floor.
"Mind the table, please," Severus rumbled as he scribbled over a parchment.
Apologetic chirps and whines came his direction as Hermione and Viktor stood up and shook themselves off and took human shape. Little Vik fluttered out of Hermione's hair, chirping his own commentary.
"Master," Hermione said. "May I leave the little guy here while I meet Professor McGonagall?"
Severus said nothing, only sweeping his hand over to point towards a "nest" of parchments a certain hippogriff had built a nest in on a previous evening.
Hermine grinned, cupping Vik in her hands and kissing him on the beak. "Behave while you are with my Master," she said releasing him into the scrolls. Vik trotted daintily over to his nest and flopped in it, chirping contentment.
"Good luck vith meeting," Viktor said as she readied to leave.
Hermione hugged Viktor warmly. "Good luck with the trial tomorrow. I'm sure you do not need luck."
Viktor smiled as he kissed the top of her hand. "Do not need luck vith you near."
Hermione blushed profusely as Draco made a gagging gesture at her. Hermione pulled Draco into a hug, and then wrapped her arms around Severus' back as he graded, pressing her head against his shoulder blades. "Goodnight," she said warmly.
Severus lifted on hand to ruffle her hair, his long fingers patting her gently.
Hermione grinned and swept out of the portal in a flurry of movement.
"I must go and meet vith my High Master," Viktor said as he readied to leave as well. "Before he come looking. Goodnight, Draco. Goodnight, Master."
"Night, Viktor," Draco said as he flopped into Severus' chair by the fire.
"Goodnight," Severus with a curt nod before he went back to his grading.
Viktor bowed slightly at the neck and exited the chambers as swiftly as Hermione.
"What do you think McGonagall wants with Hermione?" Draco asked idly as he stared into the fire.
"On the eve of the second trial," Severus answered grimly, "who can be sure?"
Draco nodded and sighed. Hopefully there would not as much drama as the first trial had caused.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
It was about and hour or two later that Draco knew something was wrong. It wasn't a tingle or some sense of impending doom. There were no fireworks or a blazing fireball shaped into the form of a dragon that came flying into the room in an obvious scene of malcontent.
What tipped off him off was silence. His godfather went perfectly still, his quill froze over the parchments he had been grading noisily for the past few hours. Even though his godfather was not the most talkative of people on a normal occasion, the silence was deafening.
"Severus?" Draco asked, setting the book he had been studying on the table. "What is it?"
Vik was chirping concern as he nudged his body into Severus' hand.
Severus' knuckles were white, even as his fingers curved around the little hippogriff.
Draco hurried over to his godfather. "Severus? Uncle! What is it?"
Severus looked up at him. His pupils were so wide that his normally black eyes seemed even more so. His complexion was pale. He stood, turning away from Draco with a flutter of his outer robe. He was frozen like a gargoyle with every part of him still.
"Uncle?" Draco pleaded. "Please. Tell me what is wrong."
When Severus turned back to Draco, he saw something he hadn't seen in years.
Severus' expression was blank. Cold. Emotionless. He had chased every bit of feeling he normally allowed to at least sneak out of his eyes or the corners of his mouth deep into the corners of his well guarded mind. His skin was a pale as his knuckles, even as he clutched the little hippogriff to his chest. The little creature was snuggled tightly against his robes, his little wings folded over Severus' pale fingers like a drape.
"Uncle?" Draco repeated, frightened to see such a change in what had become an unspoken warmth between his godfather, himself, and one oddly compatible Gryffindor.
"Her voice is gone," Severus said softly, his voice hardly a whisper. "I cannot hear her."
"What?" Draco's voice cracked. The bond between his godfather and Hermione was unquestionably strong. They could hear each other from hundreds of miles away, possibly even more. Draco didn't claim to understand it, but he knew that its imprint upon them both was deep. Deep enough that it's absence was enough to chase every emotion from his godfather's eyes. "Can you not sense her?"
"She is… alive," Severus said carefully. "But she does not respond to me."
Draco furrowed his brows, unsure of what question to ask that would not cause his godfather to retreat ever further under his mask. "What was the last thing she said?"
Severus locked gazes with Draco as his hand ever so gently stroked the hippogriff he was clutching to his chest. "She said Albus had ordered Minerva to prepare her for the second trail."
"What?" Draco protested. "What do you mean she had to be prepared for trial? She's not a Tri-wizard champion!"
"No," Severus said with an eerily even tone. "She's to be one of the four victims."
Draco sank back into the chair near him, the wind stolen from his lungs. Whatever "prepared" meant had rendered Hermione unable to communicate with Severus. As he looked into his godfather's pale face and unemotional expression, he knew he would have done anything in his power to restore its touch back upon his Uncle and chase the eerie stone-faced look that clung to him away.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Harry was worried. Perhaps worried was not a sufficient enough word to describe what he was feeling. Ron had not come back from his summons from McGonagall's office, and Hermione had not made an appearance yet before his second trial. Had something happened to them? He hadn't fought with either of them, so he doubted he had mysteriously offended them both without knowing why.
As he stood there, feeling like a goldfish in a bowl being stared at during the fair, his nerves were driving him absolutely crazy. Announcements were being made. Point tallies were being yelled, but none of it made any sense to Harry. The words could have been in Yiddish as far as he knew, for his mind was focused on everything else.
The cold air was far more chilly than he expected, and as he stood exposed in his swimming trunks, he knew the water would be even more freezing than the air. It was still February, after all, and a part of him wished he had paid more attention to Hermione when she had asked if he wanted to know how to charm his clothes to keep him warm.
Why had he ignored her offer anyway? Oh, right. He'd been an utter idiot focusing on the fact he had no date for the Ball and Cho had been taken by a then unknown person. Harry slapped himself in the face. Sometimes, he really was a bloody idiot.
The boom of the starting canon shook him out of his self-deprecation enough for him to remember to stuff the gillyweed in his mouth. He had enough for two doses according to Neville, provided something about saltwater and freshwater didn't mess things up.
The gillyweed was like trying to eat an octopus… an angry and live octopus that was trying to crawl out of his mouth and take out its offense on his face.
Chewing with effort and forcing himself to swallow, he started to choke. He wasn't sure if it was the gillyweed getting stuck in his throat, or the effect of the said gillyweed, but he was pretty sure, if he survived this trial, he was going to strangle Neville over it later.
The others had already dived into the cold February lake water, and he awkwardly dove into it as well, feeling the jolt of shock as his body complained bitterly that the cold water was a bit too cold for human comfort. He felt a strange tingling on his neck and he clutched his neck as strange convulsions went through his body.
Then, suddenly, the water wasn't cold anymore. He gasped under the water, but instead of choking, water passed down his throat and past newly formed gills, allowing him to obtain precious oxygen. He stared at his hands and then his feet. Fine webbing was now spread between his fingers. His feet had become like fins. Okay, maybe Neville would get a free pass on the scheduled strangulation Harry had planned for later.
Harry took off under the water, zooming further down into the lake. The lake water was murky and hard to see through, and the lake weeds were thick and unhelpful. Every direction looked the same. The weather above had been cloudy and dreary on the surface, and the underwater landscape was not much better.
He swam swiftly, but without direction for quite some time, randomly choosing places he though he hadn't seen before, but he was starting to feel pretty useless. He had no idea what he was searching for? Did they steal his broom, as they had speculated before? Maybe the did steal the picture of his parents he had thought safely stashed in his chest back at Hogwarts. What was he looking for?
Then, as if to answer his desperation, he heard the soft sound of singing, much like the melody that had come from the egg. Taking it as a hint, he kicked harder, sending himself zooming off in the direction he heard the song. Hopefully the song would guide him to where he needed to be. It was the only thing he could think of.
As he finally began to see an outcrop of rock as a landmark, he slowed his kicking in order to orientate himself, and eventually made out a series of stone archways and buildings set in the bottom of the lake like a sunken city. There were strange glows floating in the city like lanterns, and it a gathering of merpeople swimming circles around… people?
Harry kicked in closer, and the merpeople seemed to ignore him completely, save to leer at him occasionally. As he approached the people, he realized why Ron and Hermione had not made it to see him before the trial. Both of them were anchored to the lake floor, apparently spelled to be in suspended animation, save for the trail of bubbles that indicated they were, at least, breathing somehow under the water. Cho, he noticed was also bound, and a young girl who who he didn't recognize.
Who was he supposed to rescue out of the four? Ron and Hermione were both his friends. Cho, well, he wanted to be her friend. He worked on the tether that was holding Ron to the rock, hid webbed fingers having problems with manipulating the slippery cord. He grabbed a sharp looking rock and tried to cut away at the cord in stead, and slowly the cord seemed to yield under his frantic cutting motions.
Just as he felt the cord snap, Cedric had found the group of victims. He pointed his wand at the cord around Cho's ankle and blasted it with a spell. He wove his arm around Cho's and tapped his wand to his watch at Harry, gesturing upward before he took off into the murk.
Harry, inwardly smacking himself for not thinking of spells to cut the cords, pointed his wand at Hermione's tether, only to have a pitchfork shoved at his neck.
"Your friend only," the merman hissed at him.
"But, she's my friend too!" Harry protested in a burble of waterlogged words.
He was contemplating fighting his way to her when something caused the merpeople to scatter with cries of terror.
Harry looked into the gloom and startled as the largest shark head he had ever seen was coming directly for him. He yelled and swam to the side, but the shark ignored him, heading straight for Hermione. It was only when the shark's mouth snapped around the tether, jerked sharply, and released her when he realized that the shark head was attached to a human body.
The shark-man looped his arm around Hermione's and swam upwards immediately, leaving Harry, Ron, and the mysterious girl to their own rescues.
Harry knew his time was dwindling, and he frantically checked his pockets for his second dose of gillyweed, panicking when he realized his pocket had emptied somewhere between the surface and where he was. All he had was the time he had left. He hadn't even thought to ensure his pockets remained sealed underwater.
Looking around, he realized the merpeople had not come back from their scared exodus due to Viktor's entrance. He looked around for signs of Fleur, but saw nothing. The poem said if they failed, what the merfolk had stole would be there to rot… would they really let someone drown to death because the champions couldn't complete their task? Could they really be that… merciless?
Harry, deciding that he couldn't risk the chance that Fleur's "treasure" be left to rot at the bottom of Black Lake, pointed his wand at the tether, releasing the blond haired girl.
Taking Ron and the girl's hand, he started to kick wildly towards the surface. His legs were burning soon after, but he forced himself to keep going. His arms were aching as he held onto Ron and the girl's hand as he drove himself up and up and up.
His lungs were starting to burn. He felt the chill of the water again, and he knew he was losing the effects of the precious gillyweed. He could see the surface water now. He had to keep going.
Forcing himself to work without taking any more breaths, his muscles ached and his lungs were burning desperately for air. He felt his chest trying to clench and force him to breath, not understanding that him breathing water now was far worse than not.
Finally, his head broke the surface of the water, and he took in a gulp of air, another, and another, yanking Ron and the young girl to the surface. There was cheering all around, but he didn't really hear it, instead focusing on pulling Ron and the girls to the diving platforms.
Ron was coughing and shivering as the stasis spell broke off him. Someone was covering him with towels and blankets. Fleur descended upon the little girl Harry had dragged up with him, crying that he had saved her little sister. Cho was shivering on a seat on the platform. Cedric was rubbing her back and shoulders fervently in the cold, chanting a warming charm over her.
Judges were rushing this way and that as Harry realized he had no idea where Hermione was. Someone had given him a towel and a warming blanket, and he gathered his wobbly legs to stand up and search for Hermione.
He found her lying flat on a pile of towels and blankets. Viktor was yelling in Bulgarian, as a small group of Durmstrang rushed over to attend. Harry heard one of the gathered officials say something about the stasis spell not dropping properly after she came out of the water.
Viktor was pulling in insect out of Hermione's hair and tossed it to the deck in disgust. He was shaking Hermione by the shoulders. As his fellow Durmstrang rushed up to surround Hermione and attend Viktor, the officials were chattering wildly.
McGonagall was running rushing up to the platform and Snape, looking more pale than usual, which Harry didn't think was possible, was hot at her heels. As they rushed in, McGonagall stepped on the insect as she passed, slipping on the wet platform, falling into Snape's stiff embrace.
There was a scream from the crowd now, as Snape pulled McGonagall to her feet. There, where the insect had been, was Rita Skeeter, clutching her body in the fetal position, screaming bloody murder. Her body was bruised and possibly broken as if she had been beaten within inches of her life.
All hell broke loose as McGonagall and Snape rushed to Hermione's side to lift the stasis spell, Ministry officials came out of the crowds to surround Rita Skeeter's broken body, officials of Tournament barked orders in multiple directions, the Headmasters of each school yelled orders to their prospective students gathered, and Harry and the rest of the Champions and their rescued victims just stayed far enough away from the drama not to be trampled by it.
Harry looked over to where Hermione was being tended and sighed with relief. Hermione was shivering between Viktor and the gathered professors. He slumped back against the nearby railing and let out a grunt. He didn't even care what rank he came in anymore. He was glad his friends were both safe. Let the rest of the chaos tend to itself for now.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Rita Skeeter Can't Skitter Out of This!
The long time writer for the Daily Prophet has been witnessed and exposed as an illegal animagus of the worst sort. Having been found guilty of multiple accounts of using her form as a beetle to spy on the unwary and obtain information from places she would not normally be allowed, Rita Skeeter is awaiting sentencing before the the Wizengamot. Her multiple infractions of various laws were exposed after her damaging exposure at the Tri-Wizard Tournament that is taking place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The future looks grim for the Daily Prophet's once prolific writer, and it is my duty to you, dear readers, to inform you that the Daily Prophet in no way supports the atrocious actions committed by Rita Skeeter during her employment with the Prophet. Please be assured that we are committed to bringing the Wizarding world the best and most accurate news.
"What a horrible woman," Hermione said tiredly as she set down the Prophet during breakfast.
"How are you feeling, Hermione?" Seamus asked as he passed down the cereal.
"Much better, thanks Seamus," Hermione said.
"What happened to you out there?" Ginny asked. "We couldn't even get close after the event thanks to Rita's exposure as an animagus."
"The stasis spell Professor McGonagall cast on Ron and myself was supposed to wear off once we came to the surface, but for some reason, the trigger didn't happen for mine. I was stuck in stasis until she came down and manually dispelled it.
"Not to say that your stasis was a good thing, Hermione," Neville said, "but if they hadn't been rushing up to help you, Rita would still be running around as a beetle spying on us."
Hermione grinned at Neville. "I can't find myself having any pity for the woman," she admitted. "She's written some despicable things at my and Harry's expense already."
"Not just you," Neville said, pointing to another page. "Apparently theres is a long line of people wanting their pound of flesh now that she's been outed."
"I can't say I have much sympathy for her," Ginny said. "She even wrote horrible things about Hagrid of all people."
Those gathered around the breakfast table nodded their agreement.
"Did they decide what rank everyone was for the second trial, Harry?"
"Not yet," Harry said. "I think they are waiting for the excitement to die down before they rile everyone back up again."
"Probably a good idea, considering there are lynch mobs forming over Skeeter at the moment," Seamus said with a nod.
"I need to drop some parchments off before classes," Hermione said, standing up. "I'll see you guys in double potions later."
"Eugh," Harry, Ron, Seamus and Neville chimed together.
Hermione shook her head and dashed out of the Great Hall.
After dropping off multiple parchments, Hermione let her feet do the walking without direction from her brain. She raised her hand to the portrait for Severus' chambers to start the complex tracing when the portrait simple opened for her, letting her through.
She walked in quickly to remain unseen, and sighed with relief as it closed behind her.
As she entered the drawing room, a blur of excited hippogriff slammed into her, twittering at her face before diving in to her hair.
"Missed you too, little guy," she murmured.
As the dark clad figure standing in the adjoining doorway moved towards her, it only took a few steps of her own to slam directly into Severus. Her arms wrapped around his waist as she rolled her face against his waistcoat and crushed her nose against his chest to take in his scent with a deep breath.
Severus' arms pulled her to him as one hand drew her head against him tightly. His relief flowed over her like a tidal wave, warming her more effectively than the pile of blankets she had been given after her rescue from the bottom of Black Lake.
Hermione sagged into him, closing her eyes, as the comfort of his presence welcomed her home. The rest of the drama would wait for later.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
A/N: AriBridge made a nice recommendation for a survivalist (and deadly) snake called the Inland Taipan from Australia. It had some appropriate traits that matched Draco's personality. Thanks to her for the recommendation.
