Chapter 8: The Second Task and Developments

A/N: It's my 9th Wedding Anniversary on Monday, so the next chapter maybe later than usual...or not. It's hard to say.

The run-up to the Second Task was almost the same as the run-up to the First.

They still learned new things and practised both their spellwork and maintained the slow and steady improvement of their physical fitness. They still carved, though less than before, and socialised with their friends now more than any other point than before the Goblet of Fire spat out Harry's name, setting them on this new path.

They had been using the rings they wore to slowly allow some of their physical improvements to show, though never fully or completely, and as few people saw them on a daily basis they were hoping to pass off these changes as puberty making changes rather than magic.

They mostly succeeded, although there were a few raised eyebrows (especially amongst their friends). Still, most who questioned it seemed to believe it was because they were more powerful than the average.

Dumbledore's surveillance of him subtly increased. He was obviously trying to do so without being noticed but, as he used the castle to report on them in the ways he knew it reported on his surveillance in ways he did not.

Still, partly due to what happened to Hermione's Grandmother Edith, they placed more emphasis on maintaining and improving their existing relationships. They also quietly gave out pieces of jewellery (left in a configuration of the Room meant to hide things and summoned at their request by Ravenclaw) that would react if they were seriously injured.

All thanks to the Portkeys woven into them.

Harry had also managed to contact Sirius, in between everything else he was doing, to make mirrors like those used by himself and James in school so the family could come together and grieve. They wanted to do so in private, without anyone interfering with it and thanks to the mirrors they could now do that.

Officially, Sirius was now in France while Hermione's parents were missing presumed dead. There had been magical blood found at the remnants of their home, though the fire itself had stopped them from finding out who it belonged to, and signs of struggle at the home.

There was actually no mention of the fire itself in the reports that landed in the paper, only that it was a closed scene, blood was found and there were signs of struggle. As if a cursed fire of unknown origins was a simple overturned sofa or the traces of a blasting curse.

Strangely, no one had made any official comment as to why or even that the Ministry's detection systems hadn't gone off until at least ten minutes after the attack. In theory, this is because they were still investigating the breach of protocol that had allowed this to happen. In practice, it was yet again another symptom of the corruption that ran through the Ministry of Magic and it was this that allowed pure-bloods to get away with whatever they wanted, if they had enough money and influence.

Dumbledore had sent a note with meaningless platitudes and sympathy, the Daily Prophet had a field day with the who, what and why of the situation. A few select families of the darker persuasion knew who had died and turned their hostile eyes on the pair.

Unofficially, both Sirius and Hermione's parents were on Nysa and working on it with (and more importantly protected by) the Goblin Nation. Sirius went because Harry asked him to help, to protect Hermione's family and because he was tired of being viewed as a criminal, declared innocent or not.

Dan and Emma were there because they would be useful, the goblins selling their assets and reinvesting them as a show of good faith towards their commitment to Harry's goals. They were also there because, if they weren't, they would be very vulnerable to attack once again.

Dumbledore as Headmaster automatically was the Magical Guardian of orphans that had no set guardians and Hogwarts students. He was in for a surprise if he ever tried to press his 'rights' with Hermione though as (thanks to Dobby passing secure messages) they had been in semi-regular contact with Augusta Longbottom.

They hadn't yet sent her a mirror because they were not yet willing to give away that secret. They were all the mind that if they told her the secret of them they would probably be fine but, probably was not something that Harry and Hermione were willing to risk in the current political climate, at least for the present moment.

This contact resulted in Neville having a new wand that suited him far better and his father's and mothers were now taking pride and place on the mantle of Longbottom Hall's fireplace. His parents themselves had been transferred out of the country and were now in the hands of very motivated specialists.

Harry picked up the bill for both of those things, citing that Alice was his godmother and therefore he had a right as family to see her treated well. It also allowed him to buy Neville's wand as an extension of that as clearly, Alice would want her family taken care of.

Augusta was now the Magical Guardian of record for Hermione Granger. This was partially due to the services that he had already done for the family, partially because he was family (sort of), partly because he accepted no payment for helping them and also because she had become fed up with the status quo.

Dumbledore had allowed things to get to this state and stay there for far too long for the old woman's comfort, especially as it had resulted in her son and his wife being vegetables for years.

Neither Harry nor Hermione would be foolish enough to trust Augusta with even half of their suspicions and secrets. The good thing about her though was that, as a Noble and, having been a politician for years, she never would have expected them to do that.

Dumbledore was a polarizing figure in the political landscape. There were just as many people that hated him as there were people that viewed him as the next Merlin, outside of Magical Britain at least and so hiding the change of guardianship from him was fairly easy.

It helped that Augusta was one of the few people inside Britain that distrusted the man as much, if not more so/; than either Harry or Hermione. This distrust had begun long before Frank and Alice were hospitalised and it had only crystallized into a cold certainty after they had been attacked after being told they were safe because Voldemort had been defeated.

All three of them wondered whether the attack on the Longbottom's had been bad luck or whether it was a plot by Dumbledore to leave Harry without a viable magical Guardian other than himself. At this time they had no proof and, given who he was, they were not likely to get any anytime soon.

They had a suspicion though and, given the timescale involved for both Harry's learning and his placement with the Dursleys, she already had her suspicions before meeting him and that was before Harry told her some of what had happened to him. It had turned her tiny nagging doubts into certainties within the privacy of her mind.

Hermione had managed to settle, at least some, with her understandable fury having cooled and leaving a grim determination in its wake. She no longer thirsted for the deaths of the heirs of the Malfoy and Nott families but, on the other hand, she also knew that they needed to die.

A little harsh? Perhaps on the surface but, the balance of the Wizarding World had shifted far too deeply into forgiveness and apathy for far too long and it's not like they were innocent. Justice would not be found in the corruption of the Ministry, so it had to be found elsewhere even if it was at the point of a wand.

Where she had obviously used the same type of ring as Harry, she had already gone through more of puberty than him and it meant her excuse was less believable than his was. Thankfully for them both, she had also not been as affected by changes as Harry had been mainly because his last ritual was not only more powerful but had, at least once, fed him more power (namely the elder Nott) that she didn't have any access to.

She was also a woman and it was well known that beautification spells and potions existed and the majority of her detractors assumed, as the changes slowly bled through the ring, that this was what she had employed.

Most of their early working time had been spent paying little attention to those rumours as they had been busy solving the conundrum that was the Second Task and making sure that Hermione was both as safe as they could make her and that she would be found as quickly as possible by Harry.

Given the fact that the three were working on that particular problem together, Harry found himself once again disappointed in the tournament organisers and bemused by their lack of imagination. The Merfolk tune was a dead giveaway about where the next challenge was to take place and it only took two days for them to plan, create and test a viable and easy solution to it.

'Two days,' Harry thought scornfully. 'It's like one cretin thought… Oh, you know what would be good… and then the rest of those idiots simply nodded. No true planning, no contingencies and no other option. The fucking twats.'

Although, Harry found it impossible to really be mad at them for their incompetence as it was Hermione, more than him, at risk in the Task as far as he was concerned and their poor planning only increased the odds of her survival.

The fact that it made his opinion of them dip to new lows was beside the point. It would drop even further on the actual day when he realised that there was no way for the crowd to watch the action under the lake. They were simply stuck in the stands waiting for the Champions to reappear, even though there were at least eight spell chains or rune clusters that Harry knew of that could produce at least some image in the relatively shallow lake.

-HPCOD-

When Harry stood before the lake, with Bagman's voice nattering on in the background and about to begin the Second Task, he saw that the newly formed tradition of most of the Champions cheating while the Hogwarts one did not was alive and well.

Krum was carrying nothing but his wand, a cocky smirk on his face and was dressed in a skin-tight wetsuit of some material that he couldn't identify. Thanks to their interaction at the Ball (and Luna's influence no doubt) his cocky manner broke for a brief second as their eyes met and he gave Harry a respectful nod.

Fleur was not wearing a skin-tight wetsuit but the male population of the school (and some of the females as well) was not disappointed. The swimsuit that she was wearing, though only a conservative one-piece, was flattering enough for even him to give her a second glance.

Part of that was obviously because of her heritage and the beauty that came along with it. In the main though, it was more because of some of the filthy things that Hermione had whispered about what she might like to do to her the last night they had been intimate.

Even as he tried to control his body's reaction to that memory, he noticed that she looked vaguely confident and yet deeply concerned.

Not that he would ever do anything about it of course. Fleur was obviously very pretty and powerful in her own right but his heart didn't belong to her, he was just a teenager with a very visual brain.

Harry himself had his grouchy wand in his hand, a similar wetsuit to Krum (just in case) a bracer with half of a runic tracking charm woven into it, heavy boots with two runes built into their soles and normal clothing over the top of his swimwear that could be easily vanished if the need arose. He also had a small pouch hanging loosely at his side that was no bigger than three fists clenched together.

Cedric, on the other hand, was anything but as prepared as the others. This was completely understandable, given his previous injuries and their recovery time, but it did leave him at a disadvantage.

True, he had worked out the clue as the others had done (if not necessarily in the same way). The very wounds that he had received had not just limited his time and body but shaken his confidence as well.

One of Cedric's eyes was now a prosthetic as it was a warm, solid and bright unnatural shade of yellow. His face was peppered with scars that looked like bright miniature starbursts scattered randomly across his features and they were likely from the dragons scales tearing at his skin. The rest of his body was now doubt covered in scars that were both similar and far worse. Frankly, given the beast's highly magical nature, it was highly likely that Cedric wasn't fully healed from his wounds even now and wouldn't be for years, if at all.

By far the worst injuries for him, especially when it came to this Task, were his offhand and his leg though. His hand had not been fully tended to or was otherwise unable to be fully healed as it was twitching at odd moments, seemingly against his control.

His leg was better than Moody's, given that it was an old and outdated model that the paranoid old man probably made and enchanted himself. However, that was the only good thing that could be said about it as he was clearly uncomfortable with it and moved with a slow limping gait that showed how much more work he had to do to adjust to the new limb.

He looked only around a second away from panic as he was sweating, eyes wide and unfocused. His good hand was gripping his wand tightly as if it were a lifeline in a turbulent sea full of danger.

Harry didn't bother trying to converse with any one of them. Cedric wouldn't hear it, Fleur wouldn't help his libido and Krum thought he was the victor already and all of this was only a formality, Harry could tell. Nevermind the fact that Harry was only a few points behind him in the standings, that he was only behind Krum because the other boy's Headmaster was playing favourites or that Harry simply didn't give a damn one way or the other.

Harry was glad to be distracted by the droning voice of Bagman even if it was only by studying his competition. He knew that Hermione was down there and it was really far too easy for him to work out that she was gone, as they had effectively been living together and no one had seen her in person since her last class of the day.

There was also the fact that Hogwarts kept him informed of her movements as best as it could. Rowena did her best but, not only did she have to be careful given the hard rules of her existence but her power was weakest on the grounds and outside of the school proper. She still couldn't oppose Dumbledore… at least directly.

Then Bagman finished up his long and droning speech and the Second Task began in earnest.

-HPCOD-

When the Champions started to move the crowd was confused.

Three of them acted as the crowd expected them to, casting bubblehead charms as they moved towards the lake. Harry didn't do anything like that though but, before the crowd could mock him for it he gave them a look of utter derision.

He wasn't disgusted with them exactly, more dismissive than anything else, as he saved his true disgust for the people who had designed such an uninspired task. The crowd earned no more than that because they seemed happy that they would have nothing to look at for the next hour or so.

'Seriously, who in the hell designed this brain dead task?' Harry thought.

He rolled his shoulders, focusing on getting this done, cocked his head and silently judged the distance while glancing at the tracking bracelet on his non-wand arm and then took off at a light sprint towards the water.

Not once did he slow down or reach for his wand. All of the crowd was watching him intently and trying to hide their confusion as he reached the shoreline. They held their collective breath as he reached the water and his leading foot made contact with the first lapping wave of water.

To their collective shock, he didn't do what they expected him to, meaning that he did fall face-first into the water. Instead of that happening his stride didn't falter once as he seemed to be literally walking on water.

If they had the eyes of an eagle they would have noticed that every single time his feet landed, there was an almost imperceptible glow from his boots and small patches of muddy earth would appear beneath them.

They would, almost as quickly as they came, become submerged beneath the water as he moved off and further onto the lake. In this way, he neatly avoided all of the obstacles that the organisers had set up to hinder him and the others.

When the runic tracker stopped trying to direct him to a specific location and warmed all the way around his wrist he knew that he was in the right spot. The preparations that he and Hermione had put in place had paid off.

His hand went into his pouch and withdrew two pieces of stone, covered in runes. One, he placed beneath his adam's apple and the other was planted on the centre of his chest. Both stuck where they were put with the first essentially doing the same job as the charm that the others were using and the second dramatically increasing his weight.

Both had very limited lifespans before the magic that ran through them burned out the runes that were etched into them but, they did their job as Harry swiftly sank beneath the water drawing closer and closer to the lakebed by the second.

Within a minute or so Harry had reached the bottom and, as his feet sank into the silt, he found what he had expected to see. Before him were four people tied up and attached to four separate spears of rock. They were also surrounded by shocked and slightly worried looking merfolk who were all armed with a collection of spears, tridents and other weapons that they were both famous for and would work very well underwater.

It was only then that Harry cast his first spell in the entire task. A wordless bubblehead charm (just to be safe) followed by an enervate woke Hermione while her own rituals meant drowning from the relatively mundane water was not a distinct possibility even if the charm failed first. Then again, someone was hunting Harry and had placed him in this tournament so it was better to be safe rather than sorry.

Plus, if there weren't remnants of that spell active on her when she was examined later then questions would be asked, questions that couldn't be especially as even the most inept examination would show that she had woken up.

She smiled at him even as he cut her ropes with another spell even as he moved towards her and helped her free of the last of her bindings. The merfolk didn't react to what he was doing, aside from getting more nervous and, perhaps, edging slightly closer just in case he tried something.

Taking the final four stones out of his pouch, he placed them in a rough square around them both and, when the last one was laid on the ground, he activated them by tapping one with his wand while pushing his magic into it.

A small shockwave, like a strong breeze, temporarily moved the water out of the square and the few merfolk who had gotten curious and come closer than their brethren moved back quickly. Merfolk didn't, after all, do well out of the water.

He turned to her, noting to himself that she looked especially beautiful at the moment with the framed backdrop of the dark water highlighting her features and expecting her to be smiling at him.

He was more than a little confused then when, instead of doing that, she looked pale and worried rather than happy.

"How long will the runes last?" Hermione asked quickly and before he could speak.

"Maybe two minutes, maybe a little less," he replied with a frown, "why what's the problem?"

"The little girl on the end," she said while pointing out what looked like a miniature Fleur to Harry, "she's a Veela."

"So?" Harry said, genuinely confused.

"Don't you read any history books?" She asked, exasperated with him.

He was amused even as he shrugged lightly. Binn's had put him (and many others for that matter) off the subject and so he read what he needed or thought he might need for his immediate future and what might be needed after that.

"Not often enough apparently," he conceded along with a cheeky grin. "You know I prefer biology over history. I have you for that and anything else I might need."

"Well," she replied with an exasperated eye-roll rather than the laugh that he expected, "you should still read more. If you had you'd realise that after this task is done this becomes the merfolk's sovereign territory again. Northern European Merfolk."

At his blank look (and mindful of the fact that the runes were already beginning to dim) she sighed even as she continued her explanation. "Once the hour is up that poor little girl will be violating the Treaty of Normandy and the merfolk will kill her for breaching it."

Harry gaped at her in astonishment and then turned his gaze to study the merfolk.

They seemed to be congregating around the little girl already and their own looks towards the little girl were both vindictive and hungry. They seemed like they were almost salivating (if they could even do such a thing) over harming a girl that, in his estimation, couldn't have been more than eight.

As Hermione wouldn't have brought it up if she wasn't sure (and for her sure meant at least four different books on the subject, critical analysis and possibly even asking Rowena as well) he took her observation seriously even without seeing everything he just had.

"Go," he said shortly. "Sebastian Delacour is in the crowd and he needs to know the danger his daughters are in. I'm guessing that Dumbledore assured him that they would be safe and he took him at his word. It's a mistake many have made, myself included, but I won't have it cost his daughters lives. I'll wait for Fleur to show up and, if she doesn't, I'll get the little one out."

'Either that,' he thought wryly 'or Madame Maxine agreed on his behalf when he wasn't there as the nearest parental figure that could act in his stead. If that's the case, I wouldn't want to be her.'

"No. I can help."

"You speak much better French than I do and there is no room for error here. Plus, how would you explain being able to help, breathe, let alone fight in any fashion without a wand, underwater without explaining the rituals you have been through?"

"Harry… I…"

"There is no time for this, please just go," he interrupted her as the runes began to burn out in an alarmingly quick sequence.

With a wave of his wand, a thin sliver of lakebed that she was standing on broke away and was shot into the air even as she found her feet stuck fast to it. A second spell hit, as she was thrown up and propelled her towards the shore. She skimmed on the water like a stone as she moved off at a fair clip.

Then the runes collapsed and the water rushed back in. Thankfully, the stone keeping him breathing wouldn't go through this process for an hour and a half as he had prepared for the worst. The only other way of deactivating it was for him to remove it, which he wasn't going to do until he was on dry land.

He knew that he would be in trouble later, just as he knew that her rational nature would eventually win out once her ire had lessened and he would, hopefully, be forgiven.

He also knew that the binding spell on her feet would fail as soon as the former lakebed couldn't skim anymore. Most importantly to him, he knew that she would be safe.

Eventually, he saw a half-shark thing turned up that he recognised after a moment, thanks to his growing skill in detecting magic. It seemed that like him with his choice of using the harder to interrupt runes, Krum had grown frustrated with the limitations of the bubblehead charm though he had done so in practice rather than during the Task.

His wand, which had automatically snapped up to deal with the threat, lowered slowly even as Harry got his attention and directed him towards the middle pillar and Luna's small form on it.

When she was free, with the subtle help of Harry's wand while the Merfolk were distracted, and they were away time ticked on.

He was beginning to get worried about the others when he finally saw movement. Sadly, it wasn't Fleur but rather the slowest swimmer of the group Cedric.

He struggled in the water due to his new limb and the other injuries that he had already suffered in the First Task. The sour look on the boy's face, along with the fact that he didn't acknowledge Harry in the slightest when he rescued Cho, gave Harry the impression that he was slightly bitter about it all.

Shaking his head at the other boy's stupid attitude he returned to worrying. Not without reason, it seemed as, with less than five minutes of the Second Task left, Fleur still hadn't shown up.

He also knew that, for fear of penalties from the Goblet of Fire, there would be no actual rescue effort until the one hour window had passed. That would be far too late to help the little girl.

'Having to cast with a bitchy wand, especially in water, is not fun,' Harry thought, even as he pointed the resistant and sullen tool at the little Veela.

A quick summoning charm straight after a well-placed cutting curse had the girl soaring through the water, still deep in her enchanted sleep, and into his arms.

Unfortunately for Harry's immediate well being, it also meant that he had at least twelve angry and very well armed Merfolk were approaching him at full speed. From the way that they pointed their weapons and were screeching at him in their native language (which was horrible in the air but oddly musical underwater) Harry doubted that they were going to politely ask for the young girls return.

Not unless they were going to politely ask his corpse after they had poked hundreds of tiny holes into his body and stained the water red with his blood. This was also their element, not his, and he couldn't outfight them here. Not when he was outnumbered and soon to be outflanked at least.

So, not being able to attack them directly, he did something monumentally stupid in pure Harry Potter fashion.

There were three things that witches and wizards were never, under any circumstances, supposed to do incased or going through water and it was so important that it was drilled into them within the first few months of schooling.

First, unless you wanted to end up dead or, at best, splinched into many hundreds of different pieces you were never supposed to travel through water using magic unaided, most notably apparition. Small amounts over your body was okay, though it did make it more draining, but anything more than thirty per cent and you were asking for a painful death.

Second, you never used any spells that were based in lightning or electricity for similar life-saving reasons. Those spells were hard to control (one of the many good reasons that electricity had never really taken off in the Wizarding World) even in the most controlled of conditions and, given the conductivity, what little existed was completely gone in the water.

Thirdly, you had to be very careful about using explosive charms or sonic spells as the shockwaves and concussive forces were amplified to an exponential degree when compared to the air. A bombarda, for example, though a relatively simple spell could cause so much more damage in this environment. Added to that the force was carried through the water when it landed as well as amplified so it was just as likely to kill the caster as well.

Harry knew that just as he also knew that (surrounded by water as he was) his own rituals wouldn't help him at all. Though, if the same level of force was somehow applied while he was standing on the earth with the sky above him, it would be questionable how much help they would be. He wasn't Achillies and immune from damage barring a certain spot, merely enhanced to a far larger degree than the average wizard.

Still, even though he was Harry Potter and arguably prone to being reckless, he wasn't completely stupid. He cast an aguamenti charm so overpowered that his wand shook, grew hot and almost blistered his hand as his foci struggled to deal with him and the amount of power running through it. It also struggled to deal with all of that within the parameters of a simple first-year spell as well as becoming more and more an unhelpful stick of wood to him.

It worked though, at least in the sense that he and the young Veela shot away like a cork from a champagne bottle but, it didn't lose their pursuers. This was their territory, their home and frankly, no matter what he did to escape them, they would always be able to adapt faster than him and knew the terrain far better than he did.

All it really did was increase the distance between them, giving him a bit of breathing room, and he could only hope that it was enough even as he tried to angle his next spell down and away from him and towards his attackers.

"Bombarda!" He screamed although it did only come out as a very large bubble given the fact that he was still underwater.

Even as he screamed he tried to protect the child in his arms and cover her the agony of the damage hit him. He had twisted his body so that as much of his flesh as he could manage was a barrier for hers so he took the brunt of the force.

He bit back a scream even as he knew that, despite his instincts, he had to try and keep his eyes open to stand a chance at seeing the next enemy if there was one. Those few lost seconds could mean the difference between life and death for him.

He shot straight up from the force of it, heavily injured and bleeding profusely, breaking the surface of the water a few moments later and being flung wildly into the air. As with when he cast his last spell, using his wand while holding the young girl was difficult but somehow he managed it.

He used the small amount of time that he had in the air to great effect as his wand was a blur of precise and smooth motion.

First, he slowed their descent and then cast a charm on the waters that he was soon to hit. The second spell turned the patch, if only for a moment, into a bouncy gel-like substance that knocked them wildly towards the shore when they hit it.

Still, his aquatic enemy followed doggedly and he had to cast a comprehensive lightning spell to encourage them to leave the airborne travellers alone. Then he repeated the process again and in this way cleared the lake and landing on the shore, back first and a now awake young girl landing heavily on him.

She was also screaming in panicked French even as he took her full body weight on his battered one.

Three broken ribs, a pierced lung, shattered left leg, fractures of the wrist and cheekbones, several lost teeth as well as a serious concussion along with almost bleeding out on the sand.

One young girl saved.

Harry would take that.

-HPCOD-

"If you ever even so much as try to put my family at such a risk again I. Will. ."

An angry, lightly accented voice woke Harry from his unconscious state and, as his eyes focused fully on the room, he found Sebastian Delacour yelling at Madame Maxine (who, despite her size, was shrunk down like a beaten and broken dog) and an oddly serene Dumbledore.

The sterile view of the Hospital Wing had never been so entertaining to him as it was in those few moments. Ordinarily, he couldn't wait to leave the place but, right now, if someone passed him popcorn he would eat it and enjoy the show. Though he was battered and bruised he could see that the Frenchman was apocalyptic with rage and, in Harry's opinion, Dumbledore's serene attitude and desire for calm was only making it worse.

'Still,' Harry thought 'I need to invest in some shoes with holes in the bottom. With some comfort and cushioning charms, not to mention dirt repelling ones and a subtle notice-me-not it shouldn't be too bad. On the plus side, it would help me heal faster.'

Dumbledore, of course, chose that exact moment to speak up and only added more fuel to the proverbial fire.

"Now Sebastian," he began in a voice that was more suited to soothing wild animals rather than a rational(ish) human being. "Surely you are overreacting to a simple misunderstanding?"

"You call nearly breaking a thousand-year-old treaty, behind my back, and plunging two magical races into a war of complete annihilation a simple misunderstanding? When did I give you leave to call me, the Minister of Magical France, by my first name?"

"He does that to me all of the time," Harry interrupted and drew everyone's attention away from the argument unfolding before them and onto himself.

"Lord Potter," Delacour said warmly.

"Harry," added Dumbledore.

"See what I mean?" Harry said to the Frenchman, his voice brimming with vindication. "How long was I out?" He could see Sebastian's eyebrow raise at the brusque tone in his final question.

"Only a few hours" Madame Pomfrey replied from the corner of the room. She had been there, trying to stay out of what was building in front of her, unwilling to get between two of the Wizarding World's most prominent men. "You'll have to be on some positions for a week, probably two but you'll be fine to leave the infirmary proper tomorrow… Lord Potter."

"Why?" Harry pressed. He had known her for years by this point and one could say that he was one of her most frequent flyers. He had never known her to be this lenient with him or any of her patients.

"Because I promised her that I'd make sure that you'll take your potions," answered Hermione, speaking for the first time from the chair beside Harry. She had also, quite clearly, been enjoying the show.

He knew that he was still far from being truly healthy as he hadn't immediately noticed that she was there. He was uncertain whether it was because of the potions in his system or his injuries but, his senses were quite blunted for the moment.

"Ahh," Haid spoke while nodding his head, "I see."

"Lord Potter," Sebastian said again. "We must talk."

"As Chief Warlock…" Dumbledore began.

"I'd be very careful what you claim under the auspices of that particular office Dumbledore. Given your track record, I don't doubt that it will be more than the tenuous hold that you have on the position can bear. Still, please go ahead and finish your tenure in disgrace I beg you." Sebastian's reply was more acidic than anything Harry had ever heard and a part of his mind could almost see the words ripping viciously into the air.

"Then, as Harry's Headmaster…"

"Which you're not. Not while the Tournament is in effect anyway," Harry added.

"And neither of which," Sebastian continued with the verbal body blows, "would ever allow you to intrude on the business of two Ancient and Noble Houses. Not unless you were invited to as an Advisor for one of the parties, as well you know."

"Hermione's mine," Harry said quickly before Dumbledore could angle himself for that position.

"Good. Day. Mister Dumbledore," Sebastian, Lord Delacour of the Ancient and Noble House of Delacour, said with a cold finality that was backed up by the weight of a tradition as old as the first of the Houses themselves.

Dumbledore left then without speaking, understanding that it would be political suicide for him to stay, but not without glance that spoke of hurt and recrimination.

"Not here," Hermione said. "Let's get Harry released and then we will talk, somewhere more private."

-HPCOD-

"I assume, one noble to another, that I have your word that you will speak of this Room to no one?"

"It would be a poor thank you if I did, wouldn't it? Yes, of course, my Lord," replied Sebastian.

"Harry please... if this conversation goes as I think it might we will become familiar enough with each other, if not friends, in short order."

"Sebastian then," he responded, faintly amused that this almost fifteen-year-old could convey his intent so well in the often stilted and roundabout cadence of the Ancient and Noble Houses.

He could tell, of course, that Harry had training in the ways of them, yet he did not know how or when. All children of their station were taught to act like this and learn these forms of communication.

In their echelon of society, such social rituals and traditions did more than most knew. It wasn't tradition for tradition's sake as with the right words or phrases you could make an ally, trick the unwary, find a wife, steal a fortune or even cause an enemy to be killed.

The truth was that this training came as part of his lessons with Ravenclaw, often designed to distract his mind while he fought her and Hermione together or separately as well as when practising against dummies, casting new spells or running the obstacle course.

In this way, they forced his mind to be more adaptable even as he learned. It also meant that, when he made mistakes, it swiftly became a painful or embarrassing lesson that made an impression and he was, therefore, less likely to repeat it.

Such things were almost second nature to him now.

Sebastian would have been utterly floored if he had realised (a certain natural talent and the echo of James Potter notwithstanding) how little time Harry had been learning these things, especially compared to others his age.

"Do the others know I'm fine?" Harry asked, sounding like the teenager he was as he turned to Hermione for a moment.

"Yes. I ran into Hannah before I could find Susan but, she promised they would spread the word to the others… discreetly."

That was a stroke of luck. Although she was a latecomer to their group (who was only initially included because she was Susan's friend and because both she and Amelia had asked) Hannah Abbott had more than proved her loyalty and worth by this point.

She had not only been quick to apologise for her previous actions against Harry but, they hadn't been made out of a childish spate of anger or jealousy but rather a misplaced loyalty to her school House and not with any malice. She had also never given any of them any reason to question her loyalty and had even made the introduction of Harry and Hermione to her parents.

A very welcome, but unlooked-for bonus considering what Mrs Abbott did for a living.

'Sometimes it really is not what you know but rather who you know.'

"Please sit," Harry said, even as he gestured to one of the seats that the Room had provided. When he had sat down, Harry gracefully and fluidly took the seat opposite but, only after holding out the chair on his immediate right and helping Hermione to her chair.

The symbolism of that act and her placement was not lost on anyone which was kind of the point.

Although the Room had created a cosy sitting room (anyone inside the room could control it as long as they were the first person to enter it or, failing that, the most senior in terms of time after the first had left. Dobby, being a good house-elf, simply anticipated his Master's needs) complete with a low coffee table with appropriate beverages and refreshments Rowena would not be making an appearance.

Some secrets were going to be kept for as long as they feasibly could so, from as many as they could.

"So what would you like to speak to me about today?" Harry had a strong feeling he knew where this was going but it would have been the height of bad manners for him to directly ask with his first question in any obtrusive way and formalities had to be kept. Even his voice was carefully modulated to convey only polite interest.

"My family finds itself humbled twice over," Sebastian began in the modern version of the old forms (generally a distinct lack of thee's and thou's was enough to tell them apart from their even older versions) "and for the same action no less. The balance must be maintained or the honour of my House will crumble Lord Potter."

As Harry was clearly about to ask the man to drop the formalities Sebastian held up his hand and, with a pained expression, added almost too quietly to hear "Please… this next part at least… I need it to be formal."

"Proceed then, Lord Delacour," Harry replied firmly even as he quietly clicked his tongue in annoyance. This caused Hermione to quickly elbow him in the ribs for it. Though they tried to hide it Sebastian's eyes were sharp and he missed nothing of the exchange.

"Miss Granger is your betrothed?"

"She is my closest advisor, girlfriend and dearest friend," Harry replied, not in the least offended by the question as he was aware of how things like this were often settled by the Noble Houses. "If she ever desires a formal arrangement then I am certain that she would become my intended this very night, betrothal contract or not, and then soon enough be my wife."

Hermione's wide smile, not to mention her light blush and her hand fluttering out like a bird to briefly grip his, told him that he had said exactly the right thing.

"Then you see my concern, my Lord. As distasteful as I find it, my daughters aged seventeen and eight would usually be my greatest asset in discharging the debt created when you saved one from certain death. There is also the matter of the lesser debt, one of a grateful father rather than the Head of House, would also be satisfied if you married one of them."

"And on top of that, you wouldn't want your daughters, let alone an eight-year-old entering a less formal arrangement that would be tantamount to sex slavery," Harry finished for him.

"Indeed," Sebastian answered with an angry face and suddenly cold eyes. "Technically it is allowed for Fluer due to the age of consent for witches and wizards being fourteen added to that and, due to their..unique heritage, that age is pushed down to twelve and betrothals have no set minimum. Gabrielle is only eight and I wouldn't wish to sign her future away like that."

"Relax," Harry soothed "I agree with you and would never ask for such a thing. I do have a different idea… if you're interested?"

"If what you say is true then… yes, I would be glad to hear it." Though his face was still set in disapproval, harry detected a softening of the man's eyes.

"The lesser debt first then. I would consider it paid if we could call each other friends. No requirement for a favour later or your families servitude in any way. Just friendship, pure and simple."

"That's generous," Sebastian admitted reluctantly.

"I haven't got to the larger debt yet," Harry reminded him. Then, both he and Hermione explained their plan to the slowly evergrowing shock of the French Lord sitting in front of them.

"Such a thing hasn't been done… not in centuries."

"Not since the first decade or so after the I.C.W. was founded but, it is still legal."

"It pays to have a girlfriend who loves to learn and, more importantly, read everything… even dusty old books no one has even glanced at in decades," he glanced at Hermione with a pure look of affection. "Can you do it?"

"It would mean expending a lot of political capital, something that has taken me years to amass… but yes, in theory, I can. I can't help with the Goblin Nation though, their sovereignty is sacrosanct to them."

"After what we offered them I don't think we will need any help with that, do you?" Hermione questioned, but before he could answer, Harry continued their train of thought.

"Your political loss could be mitigated…"

"With the same offer as the Goblin Nation?" Sebastian queried.

"And the others yes," Hermione replied.

"Then we can consider the debt paid within the month," Delacour said, extending his hand and then shaking Harry's when it was within reach.

"Good."

-HPCOD-

Dumbledore was worried.

The fragile agreement that he had with Harry was holding, for now, but it seemed more tenuous day by day. It was also the only thing that seemed to be going right for him lately.

Worse, he currently was unsure of how much he would share with Harry when the time came and he would have to decide soon. The problem with that was Harry clearly had access to people now who didn't understand, or didn't share Dumbledore's view of Harry's fate.

More than that though it was a fate that couldn't be avoided, Dumbledore knew this as surely as he knew his own name, and he had to find a way for Harry to accept this no matter the cost to the boy or how much Dumbledore might find it...regrettable.

All of which led him, not for the first time in recent memory, to pacing the length of his office with Fawkes watching him intently in the background, trying to cut through the seeming multitude of problems that he was facing.

'I suppose it starts and ends with Miss Granger. How much easier it would have been, sad though the event would have been, if the troll had taken care of her in their first year.'

Then he chided himself for the uncharitable thought even as it came to him, though he had to admit to himself that the girl's death would have benefitted him greatly.

He had noticed that Harry had begun to disappear more than he usually did after his name had been withdrawn from the Goblet. Harry had always shied away from the spotlight, humble lad that he was, but Dumbledore had largely stopped tracking him after the first year as the boy always turned up.

He was also under the mistaken impression that Harry's studying had only begun in earnest after Hermione had joined him on the Seventh Floor. His best estimate of the amount that Harry could have learned was taken from that date forward.

Where exactly that was, he didn't know and that was another thing that disturbed him. He was the Headmaster here, the master of its wards and enchantments, and it shouldn't have been possible to hide from him. Yet, somehow Harry did and that was a question that he would get an answer to when they finally spoke.

It was only after their agreement was made that it had occurred to him to move more portraits into the sparsely furnished seventh floor. There was no way to actually do that though without Harry finding out and he was sure that it would be taken as a violation of that agreement.

From the few portraits that had been there before he knew that they must have been sleeping and working there. His working theory was that they must be changing classrooms semi-regularly or someone would have found them, even with the rare foot traffic compared to the rest of the castle.

That would have to be addressed of course, as would any impropriety that might be going on there (they were teenagers after all), but he couldn't understand why every tracking charm that he managed to place on the boy or his belonging failed somewhere on the floor as well.

'Yet another question that I will have an answer to.'

He, like most wizards, was woefully blind to the full extent of House-Elf powers and was still unaware of the existence of the Room.

He had even tried to remove Hermione from Hogwarts, quietly mind you, after her parent's disappearance. He had argued that her families estate, as tied up in the quagmire of muggle law as it was bound to be, wouldn't have been able to afford Hogwarts tuition and had suggested that she move to one of the lesser-known Hedge Schools. That of course would have ended his position as her Magical Guardian but, he knew that it was far harder to get back in once you were gone.

Only to be stymied before he could even truly begin by her new Magical Guardian Augusta Longbottom.

In short, Harry now had allies in the Ancient and Noble Houses of Longbottom, Bones, Black (in theory at least) and now Delacour. That would have been bad enough, but it became much more problematic when you took into account their traditional allies.

In England alone, there were the Diggory's through the Longbottom's, the Abbott's through the Bones's and who knows who through the Blacks. The international situation by way of the Delacour's was even worse.

Years ago, before the First World War changed Britain, it was even more of an oligarchy than it currently was today. Instead of blood purity being an issue (that particular faction had been a minority until Grindelwald used it as a rallying point) there were thirty or so Ancient and Noble Houses that held all of the power.

Then there were two World Wars and Grindelwald and everything changed. So many had died or were weakened and those that remained, like the Potters, scrambled to recover as they had once been families that numbered in the high double digits and now were, at best in the low double digits.

This meant that with many of their members, who had specialised in particular areas to advance their family, dead the younger families were able to make a beachhead into politics and push forward their ideals.

France however, fared slightly better on the magical side even as they fared far worse on the muggle side. At the end of all the conflict, their Magical Houses were also decimated but a few had managed to weather the storm and by the present day, two had risen to prominence and kept their power, though not equally.

The lesser of these two was the Noble House of Roland that was at least three generations away from being considered Ancient. Through them and their lesser allies, they had about twenty-five per cent of the political power of France through their family members.

The rest belonged to the Ancient and Noble House of Delacour and its allies. Harry, being linked with them, gave him direct access to both a powerful and diverse family with many interests. More than that though, Harry was now at least friendly with the undeclared rulers of Magical France, not that they often pressed this power.

When they did though, it wasn't pretty and through Sebastian's shrewd love match with his wife, they were now making inroads to the rest of Europe due to the Veela Enclaves that were dotted throughout the Continent.

He had gone to great lengths to spread the Boy-Who-Lived legend and deflect foreign interest in Harry, his actual life and his living situation amongst many other aspects of the boy's life. Now that was all coming undone.

Britain was largely an easy fix if there were any problems regarding this. He might have gotten some push back when he shut down any inquiries in the past but, those in Wizarding Britain knew that he was essentially unassailable due to his political power and reputation. This power and reptation had only increased when he had stepped in to fill the void that first Charlus Potter and then his absentee-turned dead son James.

But on the Continent? Aside from his reputation as the defeater of Grindelwald and his role as Chief Warlock because of that (which only allowed him to speak and break ties when there was an issue to be voted on) his limited capital was more than a little spent by this point.

This was not just because he had spent a long time moulding Harry Potters image rather than cultivating favours and political allies but also the fact so much time had passed (politically speaking) since his duel with Grindlewald.

He sincerely hoped that the wildcard of Sebastian Delacour didn't mention that Harry had the right to hire private tutors for every one of his subjects after the Tournament had finished.

He hoped that their agreement would hold.

All he could do was plan and hope.

-HPCOD-

Sirius and the Grangers were enjoying the peace, tranquillity and purpose that Nysa provided as when they had arrived the place had needed a lot of work. Sirius had also understood that there were few places in the world that the fleeing parents of Hermione Granger would be able to hide from both the magical and muggle worlds.

In a less life-threatening, but still very real way, Sirius was fleeing too. Though he had been declared innocent people often still looked at him like he was a crazed and deranged convict that would like nothing better than to kill them all. Though his reputation wasn't as bad in France as it was in England he was now more famous in the former than he was in the latter due to the recent scandal that he was at the centre of.

He was glad to get away from all of it.

Hiring a full Goblin Team, on top of the other expenses, to help improve the island would have been extremely draining and though the recourses of the Potter, Black and Emry's vaults could have taken the hit Harry still didn't have full access and they would have been severely depleted in doing so.

So they were instead restricted to using a skeleton crew (mainly to put up the enchanted glass as two domes) and buying all the supplies that the humans would need. It helped them that Emma was an amateur conservationist who had a particular love of forests and that Dan's family had produced more than a long line of dentists. They had produced several other professions and Dan had paid attention when he was growing up and had even briefly considered a career in architecture.

The majority of the magical heavy lifting was done by Sirius though and, in that regard, there was a very great deal to do. Thankfully Nysa's runestones were both easy to maintain and had a set limit on both number and placement. Still, with an eventual size of roughly 1420 square miles, while still growing (for the moment at least) and growing at a rate of around seventy square miles a day, it was a lot of ground to cover.

Thankfully that growth was aimed predominantly on the sides that were facing the greater part of the North Sea.

It was Sirius who shaped the earth that had been drawn from the sea, he carved mountains, moulded the hills, formed the valleys and covered the growing land with magically enriched dung and sod. He finally finished each piece of land that he worked on with grass seeds and a few spells to encourage growth.

In between that exhausting and back-breaking work he travelled to the areas that Emma had designated for forests and parks and planted an eclectic mix of magical and mundane plants. It was still too early for animals but, Sirius had little doubt that he would soon transplant them as well once they were purchased.

Dan designed the buildings, under the watchful eyes of the goblins and they laid down roads with both Roman-like precision and mindful of the careful balance that they were trying to create and maintain on the island.

The final thing that he had done, following Harry's direction, was to transport a small parcel of land (no more than twelve feet by twelve feet) a few hundred meters out past the outer edges of the first dome. That was the place where the second (and much smaller) dome was being erected. It was also the only place that had been technically completed and fully covered by enchanted glass.

But then, aside from one small thing, it needed nothing except bring the rock and soil to the surface. The only other thing that was there was a rune encrusted obelisk and that was made, by the Goblin Nation before any of the other work could be started, let alone finished.

Not even their current makeshift shelters were made before this thing although Sirius wasn't clear on the actual process and he didn't yet know but no one begrudged the fact that it was placed first given what they knew it was.

A Portkey Node.

They were rare and the land that it was on was both too thin to be useful to its much larger cousin and was too new to connect with the Earth in any meaningful way. The only real way of getting enough power to it was by connecting it to a leyline but, that was a slow power gain (if you wanted to do so safely) and it wouldn't be useable overnight.

They acted like lightning rods for portkey signals. The rumour was that the Wizarding Council had buried almost twenty of them throughout hard to reach places throughout the United Kingdom back in the early days of short-range Portkeys.

He did know that there was one buried at Hogwarts though, thanks to improvements in their design and the ease with which the newer versions enabled travel through the air, they were now only really used for transatlantic crossings.

This was especially true as each one of them were both a part of and had to be bonded with the Noble that claimed the place. Because of this, they had become largely forgotten and he was confused about where Harry even learned of those things. He didn't think that he was going to gain anything by asking how anyway.

'Still,' Sirius thought even as he moved to the next patch of earth by broomstick, "it wouldn't hurt to have a few more eligible females.'Still, it wouldn't hurt to have a magical strip club that he could visit.

Exhausted, tired and happy Sirius moved on to his next assignment.