'To Mme. Slytherin,

I have thought long and hard about this decision. While yours is a path fraught with challenges, yours is also the path that any mage with true respect for the dark arts should take. At the end of the day, I think there is a line to be drawn between normal competition and the abuse of powers that one should never mess with for so petty a reason as advancement. I am not convinced that Lord Voldemort understands. You, however, might.

I will join your neutral-dark faction.

Yours sincerely,

Julius Borgin'

'The Dark Lord is our best customer. We cannot sign your pledge.

We would be happy to offer our wide and reasonably priced collection of supplies for your ritual needs, however, should you require. - Coffin House'

'Mme. Slytherin,

We would like to join the neutral-dark faction.

For the record, we have always been a legitimate apothecary. Unfortunately, people of all origins have frequently bullied our talented potioneers into crafting poisons for their use, and we have been forced to acquiesce. We would greatly appreciate it if you could help us put a stop to these coercive requests.

Best regards,

Celestine Pycellus, Mulpepper'

'It is interesting that you liken the calling of the neutral-dark faction to siren song, Tristan. Are you afraid to be tempted off your ship?

You should know that Odysseus did leap from his ship in the end. When his crew was struck by lightning as they sailed from Thrinacia, he wisely jumped off the sinking vessel and thus saved himself while those who remained drowned.

Tell me, Tristan: should he have shackled himself to the mast of a wreckage bound for a watery grave, or was it wiser to take a chance and leap to freedom? S.'

'Perhaps Odysseus survived by jumping into the unknown, but his was a fortune favoured by the gods. Mere mortals should not expect the same fate. Icarus would have been better served to live out his days in the Labyrinth than to perish in his attempt to escape, would you not agree?'

'I do not agree. Young Icarus may have survived in the cold depth of the Labyrinth, but he would be forfeiting his chance to ever feel the warmth of the sun or the freedom of the open for the entirety of his life. He suffered only for his lack of focus, not his decision to fly. Meanwhile, cautious Daedalus would certainly succeed in liberating himself by setting aside his emotions and cool-headedly plotting his escape. Are the father and son not right to put their majestic wings to use? Should they instead tear off their own wings, turn away from the open door and wait purposelessly for the monster to finish them off?'

'In any case, the story of Daedalus and Icarus is ancient myth. It is an immutable fait-accompli.'

'And yet there is evidently value in the story, seeing as we discuss them even now as with all literature. But you are right. Let us instead discuss the future. What exactly are you afraid of, Tristan?'

Despite her hopeful wishes, Hermione could not think of a single way to gracefully extricate herself from her drunken commitment even with the combined brainpower of her long-suffering portrait. Hence, she could only cut her losses and face her mistake head-on.

"Pause," called Severus from the opposite end of the empty classroom that they'd commandeered.

Hermione did. The colourful light-show that had previously filled the space between them promptly vanished into absolute stillness.

"Very impressive," remarked her potion-professor-turned-volunteer-sparring-partner, "Once again you have exceeded my expectations."

"Perhaps your expectations ought to be raised, Professor," said Hermione, only half-jokingly.

That Severus would stop worrying about her dropping dead every other evening was after all one of the few notable benefits that could come of this exercise. If she was already paying for the opportunity with her secrets, then she might as well maximize the returns on her investment.

Severus gave a snort that arguably qualified as an acknowledgement. "How long has he been training you?"

'Somebody certainly wastes no time in securing payment,' grumbled Hermione in the privacy of her own mind, wiping off sweat from her forehead with her sleeve. "I've been training to duel since the year I got here, and I've been practicing on a bunch of animated dummies before these 'independent studies' with you. You shouldn't be surprised, Professor. I would venture to say I did alright against you at the duelling club in my second year."

"You ended up in the hospital wing," he retorted, "but I suppose that was only because of treachery from my side. Not that you would have any trouble with backstabbers now - with your ability to concentrate you can certainly cast and sustain a second shield behind you. All this time we've been trading spells and you haven't lost control of the fiendfyre once?"

Hermione looked over her shoulder at the small orb of cursed fire. Tightly constrained by her will, it looked as dense and compact as a red tennis ball. "Well, I'd rather get hit than let it burn down the school. I wouldn't have even dared to try this exercise without you here to put it out."

Professor Snape opened and closed his mouth a few times, but ultimately chose not to say anything. Hermione allowed a light smile to show on her face. Yes, perhaps he was starting to understand after all.

"Glad to be of service as a fire extinguisher," he finally declared dryly, "apart from that, however, you will still need more practice against thinking opponents, especially fending off multiple ones. Regular training dummies are good but unimaginative. When we next meet, we will repeat this exercise with three training dummies, but I will be directing them to attack intelligently."

Hermione chuckled. "Why, Professor! That sounds just a little unfair -"

But she was interrupted by the arrival of a patronus that landed gracefully in the middle of the cleared room. "Severus, would you please send Miss Granger up to the Headmaster's Office?" said the silvery cat in the deputy headmistress's Scottish accent, "Albus wants to speak with her."

"Whatever for?" asked Hermione, but the patronus did not appear to have instructions regarding replies. It smoothly leapt skyward, through the ceiling, and out of sight.

Hermione glanced toward Severus, only to find his expression mirroring her own.

"I don't suppose I'm getting an award?" Hermione joked.

In the face of the gross lack of information, she was feeling every bit as confused as she looked. In her four years as a student at Hogwarts thus far she'd visited the Headmaster on multiple occasions along with Harry or after some antics of the Nocturne group, but it had always been Harry that Dumbledore had focused on. Even after she'd received her Time-Turner and published her book, he'd never found a reason to be interested in her specifically … until now. What had she recently done to catch the Headmaster's attention?

Besides "canvassing support for the neutral-dark faction" or "receiving correspondences addressed to S" or even "possibly unknowingly revealing her second identity", of course.

"We'd better go," said Severus simply. He held open the door without another word, but there was a silent confirmation in his eyes. 'I'll help you if he asks the wrong questions.'

"Thanks." Hermione nodded.

A warm, fuzzy feeling suddenly came over her. She'd not been surprised at Severus, but… it was just an extraordinary thing to turn and actually see someone who had her back with no expectation of return favours, someone who came with no other motivation than to help. Someone who knew her plans and could be relied upon to both keep the secret and act without panicking. Sweet Lethe, had she really been working alone for so long?

But, as comforting as that was, it wouldn't do to hide behind her potion professor like some helpless child. This was her problem to take care of, and she would figure out something no matter what Albus Dumbledore wished to discuss. Hermione deliberately straightened her shoulders and picked up her pace match Severus's long strides.

The long climb from the dungeons to the top of the Headmaster's tower was silent and trying, and Hermione started actively regulating her breathing about two-thirds of the way through. Even Severus sounded slightly short of breath when he finally called out the password to the gargoyles. The door opened, revealing a waiting Albus Dumbledore and… Igor Karkaroff?

And Headmaster Olympe Maxime. And Ludo Bagman. Huh.

"You asked to see me, Headmaster?" Hermione turned to Dumbledore. Yes, she could see now that she was not in trouble.

"Hermione," greeted the Hogwarts headmaster jovially, "good that you are here. We are only waiting on two more of your classmates - Ah, here they come,"

Parvati and Roger Davies wandered in, shuffling a bit uncertainly as they, like Hermione, tried to divine the meaning of this gathering. In the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Severus slip out of the room like a fleeting shadow.

Davis opened his mouth presumably to ask what they'd been called up for, but Ludo Bagman beat him to it. "My dear boys and girls, we have some very important news for you. As you know, the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament is tomorrow, and the committee would like you to participate alongside your Yule Ball dance partner. Yes, I know, it's an exciting opportunity!"

Parvati indeed looked very excited. "Ooh! Will the Second Task involve a dance competition?"

"Unfortunately not, Miss Patil," interjected Dumbledore, "the Second Task will take place underwater, in the Black Lake."

Roger Davies nodded, frowning. "I'm happy to participate, but we haven't had any time to prepare! May I please get a night pass to the library to study, Professor Dumbledore? And what will we need to do?"

"Oh no, Mr. Davies, no preparation will be needed on your part! You see, for the Second Task your Champions will need to dive into the Mervillage at the center of the Black Lake and brave the hazards along the way to rescue their hostage - that's you! The pair of you will then swim back to shore, and your arrivals will be timed for your Champions' scores. Your Champion is supposed to do the heavy lifting! They are meant to navigate a safe way back to shore and clear the obstacles for you, so you need only to follow their directions."

"Will we be restrained during the Task? And will we have our wands?" asked Hermione, "I presume you don't intend for us to assist the Champions."

Bagman looked to Dumbledore, who took on the responsibility of providing the explanation. "We will cast a sleeping and stasis spell over you, Miss Granger. This way you will not need to worry about breathing underwater. The spell would automatically dispel once your head resurfaces from the lake. You will need to leave behind your wand for the duration of the trial."

"For fairness, you see!" Bagman jumped in again, "I'm sure the three of you are very capable mages, and we need to see the Champions complete the trial on their own."

Now it was Hermione who frowned. "I do not consent to being rendered unconscious and disarmed - "

"My dear girl," Bagman was quick to reassure her, "Don't be worried about that silly Mermish song! That was only for drama! We're hardly really going to leave you at the bottom of the lake if Viktor fails to rescue you in an hour - which I'm sure won't happen, Igor."

"What song?" Davies started to ask, but Igor Karkaroff began talking over both him and Bagman as if they were air. "Miss Granger, you can hardly expect us to leave you awake to disrupt the Task. Everyone knows you're on Potter's side. Viktor is at enough of a disadvantage as he is without his own date working against him, no?"

"Now, Igor," Bagman interjected, "one would think Mr. Potter is the one who's disadvantaged in this tournament, given his age."

"If you're so concerned about me disrupting the Task, why not find something else for Viktor to retrieve and let me be a normal audience?" asked Hermione, "He's only known me for all of two months, and we're not in love. I sincerely doubt that I'm what he'll sorely miss. And you do have a point, it's unfair for Hogwarts to contribute all the hostages and the competition grounds."

Maxime threw up her large hands. "Bah! Why do we bother with the rescuing of the hostages? It would be easier to lock up one of their prized possessions instead, as I have been telling you."

Ludo was already shaking his head. "The problem with that, Headmaster, is that legality will be tricky. To take someone's belongings and lock it up without their consent may be seen as stealing. Willing participants, on the other hand -"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I refuse to participate if it means I'll have to be unconscious and without my wand."

"Be reasonable, Miss Granger!" cried Ludo, sounding rather frazzled now. "The theme of the Task won't be complete without all three of you! Where's Barty, damn it? He should be dealing with this sort of thing -"

Finally, Albus Dumbledore held up a hand. "If Miss Granger refuses to participate then the Second Task shall have to do without her, Ludo."

Ludo Bagman blinked at him like a lost puppy. "Well, I… I suppose we can ask others if they would be amenable. Perhaps each Champion could rescue a student from a different school, to foster international cooperation?"

"No need for that," Karkaroff scowled, "I'll find someone from Durmstrang for Viktor."

"And I will now need to find someone for Fleur as well," said Maxime with much annoyance.

"Well, I suppose that settles it," declared Dumbledore. Giving them all an indulgent smile, he turned to address the three students in the room. "Thank you for humouring us with your time. If you could swear not to disclose what you've learned in this office in the past half hour until the beginning of the Second Task, we would appreciate it if you'd return to your common rooms for now. If we still need your participation for tomorrow, someone will come fetch you."

Hermione lit her wand and made the requested promise along with Parvati and Davies, who looked somewhat put out at her for refusing her - and consequently their - chance of participating in the tournament.

Karkaroff had by now replaced his scowl with a wide smirk. "It's unfortunate that you cannot give Mr. Potter any last minute advice, Miss Granger!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, incredulous that he actually delighted so much in gloating at a fifteen-year-old. "Harry doesn't need my last minute advice, Headmaster Karkaroff. He's got things handled fine."

"If I may, Hermione, why do you object so much to our original arrangements for the Second Task?" Dumbledore asked offhandedly, peering at her with an expression of mildest curiosity.

Hermione shrugged. She was not obligated to justify herself for this.

Seeming to accept the non-answer, Albus Dumbledore merely nodded and popped a lemon drop into his mouth. "Goodnight, everyone."

With that, the three students were sent out of the circular office, grumbling. Parvati was especially put out with Hermione now that her one chance of being in the Second Task was gone. "Why d'you have to say no, Sally? We could've been in the tournament!"

"It won't be as fun as you think," Hermione assured her classmate, "do you really want to wake up to suddenly find yourself drenched in freezing water and then have to swim all the way to shore? They'll be taking pictures of us with snot dripping from our noses!"

Not to mention, with certain unresolved mysteries surrounding this year's Triwizard Tournament, there might be more to this invitation that it seemed.

Her promise not to disclose anything she'd learned in the last half-hour prevented her from explaining herself to Parvati in any greater depth. Nevertheless, she looked forward to sharing the few tidbits of impression that she'd picked up from this unexpected meeting with her friends in the Nocturne Group. She'd love to see what they would make of these new "clues".

"Ladies and gentlemen, all of our champions are now ready for the second task. They have exactly an hour to recover what has been taken from them, beginning in ...three! Two! One!"

The crowd shouted their cheers to the skies at the sound of Ludo Bagman's whistle. Viktor and Fleur Delacour dove into the lake simultaneously in their swimming clothes, leaving Harry alone on the shore. Blaise resisted the urge to wave at him.

"He's got this," muttered Terry from several seats away, "we've done trial runs and stuff. It'll go fine."

The Nocturne Group was sitting approximately in-between the mostly-Ravenclaw and mostly-Slytherin sections of the temporary viewing stands - with Sal in the middle as usual. On Blaise's left, Daphne was staring at the three charm-projected panels hovering in midair that showed what each Champion was doing. "Wow, Krum half-transfigured himself! Is he really planning to rescue his friend as a half-shark?"

"Wait," exclaimed Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw seeker, "the things that got taken were hostages?"

"Yes!" answered Roger Davies, for about the ninth time since he'd revealed that he was originally the one who Delacour was supposed to 'sorely miss'. "I wonder who they chose in my place."

Down below, Harry had pulled a miniaturized boat out of the pocket of his bathrobe and started unshrinking it as planned. ("Ah! Another creative approach from the Hogwarts champion!" praised Bagman exuberantly, "I myself am not a swimmer either, so I completely sympathize.")

"That's smart, I wouldn't want to get into the lake either. It's too cold," nodded Tracy Davis as Harry stepped into his boat, seated himself, and was soon speeding off toward the center of the lake. "Is he doing the same thing that Hagrid did to drive those boats that we all took in first year?"

Terry confirmed. "We got Hagrid to teach us. It's a pretty neat propulsion charm."

"Huh," wondered Draco, "who'd have thought Hagrid would be so useful?"

"You did," Gaius Avery pointed out, "I mean, who's been taking notes like crazy during his Skewt lessons?"

"Well, that's different."

"I guess now it should be smooth sailing until he's right over the Mervillage," Blaise said to no one in particular. Through his premium-grade omnioculars, he watched proudly as Harry got into the small boat and successfully cast the spell that would propel him out from shore. Their plan was simple, just like last time. Since there would be no witnesses underwater between here and the Mervillage, Harry was going to stay out of the water for as long as magically possible. This would force any would-be attackers to stake out close to the Mermish guards, who would surely greet the unauthorized snooping mage with appropriate attention.

"Something could still capsize the boat," remarked Adrian Pucey from the row in front.

"Not easily, I should think," countered Daphne, eyes glued to the three large charm-projections that were supposed to show a real time image of Harry and the other two Champions. Harry was still sitting calmly in his boat, though his hair was now beyond salvaging after being thoroughly tussled in the wind. "We slathered all the wards we knew onto that thing. It took days."

Really, Blaise almost felt sorry for the other two champions, who were already having to fight through grindylows while Harry just casually glided over their heads in his boat. Still, friends don't let friends go into danger without some sort of leg up, and the other Champions had their headmasters helping them too. It evened itself out.

Meanwhile, Bagman was still commentating with enthusiasm, occasionally throwing in a praise or two for Harry as if to make up for his thus far unexciting projection.

"I smell favouritism," chuckled Adrian Pucey, "Either Bagman favours Potter or he favours Britain. One of the two."

"Speaking of Bagman," said Sal, "Has anyone else noticed him hanging about the owlery all the time? Somebody's been getting interesting letters."

Oh, dear Merlin.

Everyone froze. Pucey's hand actually stopped in mid-motion as he was scratching his head. Malfoy nearly turned around. Tracy actually did look over, before carefully shifting her gaze away.

See, all Sal did wasmake a perfectly innocuous observation, but the din of the viewing stands made it very easy to catch the second part of her sentence but miss the context. And the truth of the matter was that a lot of people had been getting interesting letters. Even Blaise.

Ever since the coming of the new year and the arrival of those letters, the Slytherins had been acting like this. Obviously everyone knew about them and wanted information, but nobody wanted to confront the metaphorical basilisk in the chamber. Instead they chattered lightly, joked about the letters, perked their ears up unsubtly at any mention of "letters", and stumbled around blindly trying to avoid the one question that was on everyone's mind: So, which side are you on?

Well, at first everybody was silent on the matter. Then rumours started cropping up saying that Slytherin had actually made an appearance and had managed to swear a number of families to neutrality, and now that the adults were suddenly waffling the water was well and truly muddied. Blaise had thanked the stars that his mother had pledged neutrality, so he at least knew there would be nothing holding him apart from Daphne. Theo, though… he hadn't dared to ask. He hoped Theo's father would come around so that he wouldn't have to think about it.

But reluctance to announce their allegiance aside, nothing was stopping anyone from speculating about the new Slytherin matriarch's identity. Nobody doubted that she was in fact the Slytherin head of family - inheritance laws were powerful magic, and idiots had died before for lesser claims on names and titles that did not belong to them.

Half of the house believed she must be a young foreigner from overseas, because why else would she have stood by while You-Know-Who rallied his army in Britain? The other half didn't think a young foreigner could persuade anybody much less their parents, and thought she might have been a supporter of You-Know-Who during the first war. Perhaps she'd decided she was done with her Parselmouth relative after his defeat and wanted to raise her own banner instead? The second theory was too convoluted for Blaise, but he also couldn't say it was impossible. It was another nice puzzle to work out, right up there with catching whoever'd put Harry's name into the Goblet of Fire.

"Bagman? I'd reckon he's just gambling. He's got a betting pool going for this tournament. That's probably why he wants Harry to win so bad." Terry, who had not received a letter signed Slytherin, decided to pick up the conversation.

And just like that, the spell was broken. Everyone went back to commentating on Bagman and the Tournament. They hummed their anticipation when Viktor regained his direction and took off like a shark. They shouted their alarm when Fleur lost her battle with the grindylows and had to be rescued. Blaise looked to Sal to see if she'd noticed the oddness of her friends' reactions to her innocuous comment, but her face was as unreadable as Theo's. Just for that they would totally be a perfect pair. They matched in every way!

Except Sal was muggleborn and Theo was the son of a Death Eater. Damn. He'd nearly forgotten that little detail again.

"Sal, what happened to your cheek?" Theo was asking.

"Scratched it on a branch," shrugged Sally, rubbing at a very faint impression of a line that Blaise couldn't see. "I put some dittany on it just earlier."

"Look at Harry! He's getting ready to dive now!" Anthony suddenly jumped up and pointed excitedly toward the charm-projections.

Terry hastily activated the backup mini-projector charm that they'd made Harry wear before he went down, and Anthony and Sal leaned over to watch. It wasn't that they didn't trust one of the Tournament officials not to tamper with the main projection to show a false image, it was just that redundancy was always a good thing.

In the ghostly charm-projections, Harry waved his wand about his head in the motion of a bubble-head charm and sank into the lake like a rock dropped into water.

"There he goes! He's seen something. Oh - he's found the Merfolks already!"

A circle of Merpeople had slowly risen to surround Harry's avatar, as well as three wooden posts. There was someone tied to each of the posts - Ronald Weasley, a tall Russian-looking witch, and a little blond girl who looked positively tiny compared to the two others. Harry took out a small knife from a pocket in his swimming trunks and began to cut through Weasley's ropes. All around, the Merpeople kept their distance but muttered among themselves as if they were watching an entertaining circus show.

Suddenly, the circle parted and a second swimming figure came into view, but the Bulgarian seeker ignored Harry and went straight to the tall girl. After a few attempts to bite through her bonds with his transfigured shark head, he gave it up as a lost cause and grabbed a sharp rock instead.

Harry grabbed his ginger friend and began to move toward the surface... very slowly and laboriously.

"C'mon, Potter! Stop flailing around!" groaned Marietta Edgecombe, "he's going to lose his lead!"

Blaise sighed. They'd tried to teach him as much as they could in the positively gigantic prefect bath, but there was only so much they could do in a mere two months.

Poor Harry's upward progression through the water was so painful to watch that everybody gave a loud sigh of relief when the surface of the lake and the boat finally came back into view.

"He's in the clear," nodded Terry as Harry and Weasley clambered into the small boat and started driving back to shore. "Nobody attacked him during the Second Task either."

"Harry didn't give them a very wide chance to make their move, with the Merpeople watching the whole dive and all," said Anthony quietly, "Just one more Task to live through, eh?"

The Nocturne Group shared a look. The Third Task would be the greatest challenge yet, and they all knew it. It would be their last chance to catch Harry's nominator, just as it would likely be the shadowy individual's last chance to do… whatever they had planned.

Everybody sat back to watch Harry and Krum race back to shore. The French part-Veela was already ashore, although she looked understandable distraught rather than victorious. A loud cheer went up as Krum approached land with the Durmstrang witch who'd been his hostage, but he had to pause to un-Transfigure his head before emerging from the water. The small delay meant that they actually stepped to shore at the same time as Harry, who had been following closely behind. Mme. Pomfrey quickly wrapped Viktor and his friend in thick fluffy towels, and Blaise was amazed that they weren't quavering like leaves in the cold wind. Maybe it had something to do with growing up in the north.

"Poor Fleur," said Anthony, "she's still fighting tooth and nail to get back in the water."

Another group of Merfolks appeared by the shore, carrying a small girl between them. The sight of the girl seemed to calm the half-Veela down somewhat. "Her little sister," nodded Anthony at the reunited pair.

"Since Delacour never finished her task, this should bump Harry up to second place," analyzed Tracy, "and Krum up to first."

"Excellent!" cheered Draco while high-fiving Gaius, "maybe we'll have a shot at winning after all!"

Tracy turned out to be right. Krum had been awarded a whopping forty-six points, and so had Harry even though Karkaroff did his best to accuse him of cheating. This placed Harry and Viktor nearly neck-and-neck in the overall standings while Delacour had fallen to third place.

Ludo Bagman was grinning as if he'd just won a crap ton of Galleons when he announced the interim results. "And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen!" exclaimed the round-faced wizard, "Champions, you've each done very well in this test of wits and skills. For your third Task, you will only be facing more challenges as you race one another toward the Triwizard Cup! Take your time to prepare your arsenal, brave champions. The whole world will be watching you for the final round!"

"Oh dear," said a Ravenclaw girl named Lisa Turpin, "that sounds stressful."

"I'm sure Harry will do fine," assured Tracy, waving a hand toward the shore below where Harry was happily waving to a gaggle of enthusiastic camera-folks, comfortably clad in his fluffy, dry crimson bathrobe while everyone else huddled in their towels. "He seems pretty good with an audience. You guys taught him well."

"Eh," shrugged Daphne half-jokingly, "we're still working on him."

Blaise nodded to himself decisively as a loud cheer went up for Hogwarts. Friends looked after friends.

The Nocturne Group would make sure that Harry was ready for his third challenge - whatever they would need to face.

AN: I expanded the Avery-Mulciber conversation a little from last chapter after reading all the great comments people left! A lot of people suggested alliances with magical creatures, and I think that might just be what Sally needs. Let me know if you guys think of anything else!

Next chapter (hopefully) in two weeks.