The tank is running a bit dry, but here is what there is...
#
"Mr Potter, if I hear that Merlin-be-damned awful noise, I will personally petrify you and put you in a room with it for the remainder of the day!" warned McGonagall as soon as Harry reached for the egg. "I can assure I will not be having any of that nonsense in my classes."
"Sorry, professor," said Harry, looking not the least bit remorseful. "Just trying to work it out – you know, so as to lessen the chance that I will get thagomised and DIE in the next task, like I nearly did in that arena with the MASSIVE death dealing dragon."
"The transfiguration classroom is hardly the appropriate place for that," she snapped back. "As you would be well aware."
"Well you did say we could work on our own once we finished the work you gave us!" protested Harry.
"You know well and good that opening up that blasted egg in here is not acceptable! You are not making it impossible for the other students to study, not to mention ruining my hearing. Now put it away and work on something else."
"Well, can I go to another room somewhere and study it, please?" pleaded Harry. "It's kind of important to me right now."
"Very well. Take that damn thing and be gone, but I had better not hear it at breakfast, lunch, or tea again, and you are not to open it in your or any other houses' common room or dormitory at all. Understood?"
"No problem – thank you," said Harry, stuffing the egg into his bag and heading for the door, trying hard not to let a smile creep onto his face.
"I still don't get what he is trying to achieve," Padma, the Ravenclaw Patil sister said, watching Harry leave.
"You have to understand that to Harry, even ten minutes of extra shut-eye is worth getting a spell he couldn't cast two years ago to work to block out the noise that thing makes," answered Susan. "He can't hear it so it doesn't bother him at all."
On the other side of her, Justin snorted.
"Ten minutes? He got out of an hour of Herbology with it and is banned from Divination after it shattered two crystal balls and Trelawney's glasses."
"What about potions?" asked the Ravenclaw.
"Harry hasn't bothered showing up. He claims the fumes down there are affecting his ability to compete."
"And professor Snape accepts that?"
"No, but the Headmaster apparently does. I think Harry bribed him or something."
In the office of the headmaster, Dumbledore quivered with excitement as he reached into the bag and withdrew another one of the fabulous sweets Harry had given him.
He had never heard of super-sweet-sherbet-lemon-drops before, but they were without a doubt the most terrific burst of sugary goodness he had ever encountered.
"Oh, my yes," he moaned as the sweet began dissolving in his mouth, sending an involuntary shudder of delight through his ancient frame.
"Yeah, I really can't see that," said Padma dismissively.
"Backfired on him in Care of magical Creatures, though. Hagrid must have had one or two under his belt to calm his nerves before class or something because he started singing along with it!"
#
"So Harry, who are you taking to the ball?" asked Sue with so much innocence it instantly made the normally trusting Harry (because trusting someone is a lot easier than trying to figure out what their angle might be) extremely wary.
"I was not planning on taking anybody," said Harry, carefully setting aside the scroll he was pretending to read to focus on Sue. "Why?"
"Oh, no reason," the girl answered, a bit too quickly.
Harry knew he should ask, or at least think about it, but all he could see was a whole lot of trouble.
Besides, he had suddenly developed a real fear of the person he most wanted to ask – Floor, or Flew, or whatever the hell her Frenchy name was.
Just seeing her made him feel strange. His heart beat a bit faster, his breath caught at every movement she made, and worse yet, he felt compelled to not be so lazy, as she obviously did not appreciate his normal behaviour!
That absolutely terrified Harry (even after he verified he was not having a mild heart attack despite nearly matching the list of symptoms Petunia always ran through with Vernon when he over exerted himself), as he clearly recalled one of the many shapes the Boggart Professor Lupin repeatedly exposed him to had taken – and it wasn't the Trelawney-dressed-in-scanty-clothing one.
"I thought about auctioning it off," he said, casually throwing the egg clue up into the air and then catching it, "but I couldn't really decide what it was worth."
Several younger year girls had suggested they would be amiable to trading favours for the opportunity to attend, but every time Harry started to think about things he could get them to do (like do his homework or take a detention for him), he quickly got caught in bit of a mental guilt loop.
Moon-girl told him she would only go if he learned to dance some strange thing she probably made up she called the Rumba, and Hermione was trying to be all mysterious about who she was going with. She didn't seem to realised that Harry wasn't really that fussed about her secret.
Now he was stuck, because no matter who he asked, he was likely to upset somebody else who expected him to ask them.
He was also wise enough to admit to being shallow enough to worry about taking one girl only to find out a different girl would have been a better option. So the obvious path was to ask nobody and let it sort itself out, that's how things usually worked out for him anyway.
With luck the situation would be resolved by the girls themselves and involve a large toddler pool filled with jelly and lots of wrestling – at least that's how things happened in those 'training videos' Lockhart was selling, so it must have some basis in truth, right?
He didn't see the absolute horrified look on Sue's face as she contemplated what Harry could possibly get for the right to be his date.
#
"Potter," the mad professor practically growled, "you next."
Harry moved forward into the middle of the classroom, into the space that Moody had cleared of desks. Moody raised his wand, pointed it at Harry, and said, "Imperio!"
It was the most wonderful feeling. Harry felt a floating sensation as every thought and worry in his head was wiped gently away, leaving nothing but a vague, untraceable happiness. He stood there feeling immensely relaxed, only dimly aware of everyone watching him.
And then he heard Mad-Eye Moody's voice, echoing in some distant chamber of his empty brain: Jump onto the desk…jump onto the desk…
"What, and ruin this feeling?" asked Harry.
"Jump now!" insisted the voice.
"Nah," he answered, far too relaxed to bother with something so un-lazy as physically performing a feat that taxing.
"Look at that you lot!" yelled Moody. "Potter fought it! He fought it and beat it!"
"Well done," whispered Zack as Harry returned to his spot and Moody continued to rant. "That was pretty impressive."
"Not really," said Harry casually. "I think I'm still under; Feels good."
The look on Zack's face would have been really funny, if Harry had been in any condition to care.
#
"So how are you going with figuring out the egg clue, lad?" asked Moody after the rest of the class had made their usual scampering escape from his classroom.
Moody's his fake magical eye for once was staying in place as it stared at Harry unblinkingly.
"Yeah, good," answered Harry uncertain if the nut-job of a professor could somehow tell he was lying, or would just automatically assume it, since that is what Harry would do.
He hadn't actually made any effort himself, but that was beside the point. Tiny seemed to know what the noise was saying, so he figured he could probably go ask about it later if nothing else easier came up.
"Excellent!" exclaimed the insane teacher. "Make sure to keep your friends close, and your enemies closer."
"Okay, sure – thanks for the advice," said Harry, making a break for the door while he could.
In Harry's opinion, there was something decidedly wrong with the Defence against the Dark Arts instructor.
Then again, taking his other three years experience into account, that was actually the normal for them. Relieved, Harry relaxed and went to his next class, leaving a frowning professor watching him through the walls behind.
#
"Ravenclaws suck," announced Harry as he plonked himself down into his favourite chair in the common room and dropped a booklet on the low table in front of it.
"That's an unfounded rumour of a generalisation that should not be repeated without just cause," said Luna, who was apparently completely unaware she was once again in the wrong common room.
"I challenged them to try and find out anything about this blasted egg," Harry explained, not even trying to work out what Luna meant, "but instead of getting the clue, I got this hundred page treatise on the damn thing!"
"Sounds about right," said Ern, picking up the book and flicking through it. "Must have something in here that will help, though."
"Probably," admitted Harry bitterly. "Problem is I can't understand half of the words they have used, let alone what they mean when applied to this annoying, oversized breakfast option."
Ernie laughed and passed the booklet onto Justin.
"I don't suppose Hermione...?"
"Not talking to me," explained Harry. "Apparently her helping me look up spells and things is perfectly okay, but getting a whole house to research the second clue is cheating or something. I'll never understand that girl."
"She might have a point," said Ernie. "It hardly seems fair."
"Fair, smair," dismissed Harry sulkily. "I wasted a lot of time and energy convincing those 'claws to do this-"
"You mean you bribed them with your stash of sugar quills and ButterBeer," interrupted Ern.
"-and I am not happy with the result."
"Seems a bit out of character for you, Harry," said Sue thoughtfully, opening the book to have a look. "What's suddenly got you all riled up like this?"
Harry opened his mouth to answer but then stopped, realising he didn't actually have an answer that would not require a lot more explanation about his deep seated anger caused by the dismal score from the first task.
"It' the Wrackspurts," said Luna sadly. "It's always the Wrackspurts."
"Yeah, them," agreed Harry.
In truth he was starting to get a bit annoyed at how this competition was affecting him. It should have been a great time for slacking off and having some fun with it, but he was finding himself getting a bit frustrated with the whole thing.
Well he knew what to do when something frustrated him; Figure out why it made him feel that way, then once he understood it, ignore it.
That was a more solid plan than any other, for the moment.
#
"Wait a moment, it kills things that don't have souls too?" asked Harry, uncharacteristically drawing attention to himself in the class where most people tried very hard to avoid being singled out for any sort of recognition.
"It kills everything instantly!" yelled the unstable Dark Arts professor excitedly. "Why do you think it is so feared?"
"Well I thought it just killed people," said Harry, looking very shocked and shaken at the corpse of the enlarged spider.
"And how is that less frightening, eh?" asked the professor.
Harry was too shaken to even think about following his normal pattern of just letting things slide and answered without thought.
"Because pretty much every other of the more powerful spells I have ever heard of have been extremely specific to the point of ridiculousness," he said. "I mean there is a specific spell for repulsing spiders, and even a special spell for levitating human bodies, so I expected a spell that kills something instantly would be a bit less general purpose and more of a 'one of a kind' sort of thing."
"And what about the Imperius Curse then?" asked the professor pointedly.
"Well that didn't really seem that powerful," mumbled Harry distractedly.
"No that powerful?" screamed the professor incredulously. "Not that powerful? One of the most terrifying spells ever devised, a spell that will see you sent to Azkaban for life if you cast it, a spell that could make you kill all your friends and family with smile, not that powerful?"
"Well , yeah, I mean it was pretty easy to get around," he said dismissively. "Does this killing one stop after it has killed the first living thing it hits, or does it keep going through until it runs out of steam or something?"
It took a few moments of silence before he took his eyes off the dead spider to look at his professor and realise instead of answering the man was just standing there staring at him with bulging eyes while the rest of the class sat with baited breath, waiting to see what was going to happen.
He really hoped this was not going to cause him trouble.
#
"So rumour has it," said B1.
"That you managed to make Mad eye Moody's eye pop out of his head," finished B2 as the twins came up alongside Harry who was making his way back to the dorms after spending a complete waste of sleeping time scrubbing trophies for awards that nobody cared about given to people that nobody remembered anyway.
Well except for his Dad's award, that was pretty special. His mum probably had a few in there as well but after a while Harry had gotten bored and put himself into a trance to numb the pain.
"I wish," said Harry. "That might have been worth a detention. What are you two doing up and out anyway?"
"Running low on snacks," said B2.
"Been selling them to the Frenchies," added B1. "It seems they can't get quality sweets like ours over in their snooty, upper class school. Have to do it all on the QT though. Apparently they don't want the each other to know they are pigging out on pretty much anything we can get them that is more than about 80 percent sugar."
"So we have been making a killing," said B2. "Tried selling them to Drumstang first, but they don't have a hankering for the sweeter things in life the way those Frenchies do."
"Try blood pops," said Harry. "Make it a challenge to their masculinity or something."
"Brilliant!" they both said at exactly the same time.
"So, I doubt that's why you decided to escort me to my dorm," said Harry leadingly. "What's going on?"
"No easily fooled are you, young Harry?" said B2.
"Always took him for a man who know the what's what," agreed B1
"Yeah let's just cut to the chase, fellows," said Harry cutting off what probably would have been an amusing series of buttering-up comments that he was just too tired to process right now.
"Just after the inside scoop, matey," said B2.
"Feeling confident about the second task?" asked B1.
"Got your clue all sorted and have a plan?" asked B2.
"Sort of," said Harry without much conviction.
"Excellent!" they intoned together before stopping to give each other a high five. "We're off to see man about a bet then!"
"Wait, what? I just said I sort of had it figured!" Harry protested.
The twins cast a knowing glance at each other.
"Harry, Harold, Harrikins, your 'sort of' is a lot better than most people's 'definitely'" explained B1.
"Yep, most people might say you are a lazy, good for nothing git who wastes his potential on trivial things that don't matter and who will never amount to much," said B2.
"Hey!" protested Harry.
"But not us! We know a good bet when we see it, so we're off to the book makers!"
"See ya!"
"Wouldn't want to be ya!"
Harry knew he should protest or argue or just plain deny their accusations, but at that point in time he was much more interested in the fact the twins could somehow make a bet on the Tournament.
"Hey guys, wait up a second..."
#
Harry got the distinct feeling he was being watched, again.
Lately it seemed he could never settle into a deep mediative trance, which other less enlightened members of his house called 'sleeping sitting up with his eyes closed', without somebody deciding it would be a good time to discuss something with him.
Of course it had taken a while for some people to understand that he was not actually listening to them while they jabbered on, mistaking his automatic generic 'ums' and 'ahs' as meaningful communication, but it had happened so often that Harry was now starting to develop the habit of rousing from his trance instead of blissfully missing out and possibly later being blamed for giving advice he most definitely did not mean to. Who in their right mind could mistake a snore or slight dropping of his head for agreement or any sort of comment? People were nuts.
Sure enough, as he cracked open one of his eyes, someone was standing patiently in front of the table he had claimed as his, waiting for him to acknowledge them in some way.
Actually, it was two 'somebodies'; Justin and Ernie.
Regretfully, Harry put down the book he had been pretending to study and switched the illusion of eyes on his glass (Version six) off.
"So we need your help," said J.
"Okay," answered Harry.
"As you know, or should know since you showed up to the first couple of them, we have been taking dance classes for the Yule ball, and most of us are not much chop at it."
"True," said Harry vaguely.
"So we figured that you must have worked out a way around learning to dance, and with the help of a couple of guys from the other houses, we figured out you are probably planning on using either one, more likely or a combination, of the many dance-based curses we found out about."
"Okay," said Harry.
In actual fact he had just decided not to go to the ball, since even though it sounded like something that might be interesting, the effort involved was way too high a price. This solution to 'dance dilemma' was an interesting idea though; almost something he might have thought up himself had he needed to.
"The problem is we don't know how to go about getting the curse placed onto our shoes, so we have to ask you for help."
"Not your shoes," said Harry absently as his mind quickly went over the possibilities. Obviously it would be a bit more complex than anything he developed before, but he had learned enough to see that it was possible, and he definitely knew the right people for getting it done. "You want it on something you can easily turn off, for when you don't want to dance, and be able to take it off without making it obvious, just in case something goes wrong."
"Good point," mumbled J. "If you can get us this, we can help you get a date, since we know you haven't bothered to say anything to anyone yet, which is bordering on rude."
"That would be convenient," said Harry. "Who? Not one of those terrifying birds from the Frenchy school thing I hope. No deal if that's what you arranged!"
"Only you would think a gorgeous girl from Beauxbaton is terrifying, Harry," laughed Ernie.
"Yeah well you haven't had a glimpse of a future married to a woman who can get you do to anything she wants you to!" argued Harry.
Ernie's eye's suddenly glazed over slightly as he stared off into the distance. "Yeah, that'd be terrible," he said quietly.
"But anyway," interrupted J." You grossly overestimate our influence and abilities. There is no way we could convince any of those heavenly creatures to give us the time of day, let alone go to the ball with one of us. Not even the famous Harry Potter stands a chance, sorry. So we asked around and discovered, not-surprisingly, some of the Ravenclaws are more interested in spending the night reading rather than dancing, and had not committed to going with anybody. Megan, said she would go with you, as a favour to Susan, who owes us for helping Hannah with a problem she was having with... well I guess it doesn't really matter and probably should not be repeated anyway. Bottom line, help us with dancing and Megan will go with you and be a nice date for you."
"Brill. Get yourselves a pocket watch," said Harry. "You can discretely press the button to activate or deactivate the curse and we can charm it to let you pick which dance to use depending on what music is playing, unless you found a curse that does that anyway?"
"No, but we could keep looking," said J.
"Good plan," said Harry, already figuring out how to convince the pair to do most of the work that would be needed to get this side-project on track. "Get two each, because you need a spare for the enchanting as sometimes it fails and could possibly set fire to it, as I found out much to the detriment of many items including several pairs of shoes and one rather nice pillow. Anyway, write down the dances you want to do and the curse or curses you can find that might be applicable. Keep it simple; just two or three that are most likely going to happen, like a waltz. You'll need to throw in a galleon or two to cover the cost of getting the senior I have in mind to do the enchanting too."
"Excellent," said Ernie. "No more dance lessons!"
"Good. Now, just one other thing. Who is Megan?"
#
"Harry we have to talk!" shouted Hermione, bursting into the dorm.
Ernie gave a sort of muffled cry and dived back under his blankets, not that he had properly gotten out from under them anyway, but apparently having a girl see him in his nightclothes was too great a shock for him.
"You can't keep making those Dance Amulets!"
Harry yawned and gave a stretch, postponing worrying about Hermione's antics until after he had a chance to decide if they were actually worthy of such effort.
"Harry, this is important!" ranted Hermione in her most annoying 'bossy' voice.
He knew she was just worried and was trying to help, but sometimes she really just needed to chill out a bit - Although she did look quite cute all riled up with passion and so fierce.
"Why not?" asked Harry, flicking his wand to cast a rather complex cleaning spell on himself.
He really would have preferred lounging in the bath for a few hours, especially the huge, pool-like one the prefects got to use whenever they wanted. It had been pure cruelty to show him that, but his head of house, Flowers, got some sort of silly idea in her head that if Harry saw the advantages being a prefect and a role model brought, he might put a bit of effort into at least appearing more of a traditional Hufflepuff.
It had not even come close to working, since Harry was still quite immune to outside influences trying to manipulate him into doing real work, but an ex-girlfriend of one of the Slytherin prefects gave him the password to the glorious sanctuary as some sort of revenge thing that he was not going to even try to understand, and now he could make use of it any time he wanted.
Still, the quick clean spell was handy to have when you just needed a quick freshen up, and since Hermione had seen it fit to invade the boys dorm to lecture him, he didn't think he'd get a chance to take a real bath before breakfast anyway.
"Magic is not like science, it follows very different rules and is a lot more chaotic," she continued as Harry used a switching spell to swap his pyjamas for the standard class robes. "There are complex interactions that involve Motivation and hundreds of other factors that even the most brilliant of Wizards like Dumbledore have barely began to understand..."
Well, Harry's standard robes, not the actual standard ones. He needed all the expanded pockets and other charms he had accumulated in order to make his day as simple as possible. The standard robes might as well have been made by a Muggle and didn't even keep the draft out!
"You know all those Muggle stories about Genie's in lamps and being careful what you wish for? They are all based on real events in the magical world!" Hermione almost yelled as Harry stuck his wand in his mouth and mumbled a teeth-cleaning and breath freshener spell; which was quite a bit harder to do than it sounded, since casting spells with a wand in your mouth is not something people normally do.
Idly he wondered if you were meant to cast it on someone else and then have them cast it on you in return in a sort of mutual cleaning ritual or something.
That would be so weird.
"You have to be careful with magic or it will turn around and bite you!" Hermione announced. "You can't just take it for granted and abuse it without paying the price."
Harry lifted each foot up in turn and his socks and shoes shot out from under his bed and slid into place, the laces finally tying themselves neatly. He smiled recalling how tricky that bit of magic had seemed not so very long ago.
"This dancing curse thing you have been making for the boys is going to be a disaster. Something is going to go wrong and people might get hurt. Curses are called that for a reason!"
Harry opened his mouth to reply, but paused as Wayne sleepily pushed passed them on his way to the loo, wearing nothing but the skin he was born in.
Hermione squeaked and turned away, blushing brightly.
"'Scuse me," mumbled Wayne, eyes still pretty much closed and totally oblivious to the presence of a girl in their room.
"Something always goes wrong," said Harry ignoring his often naked roommate and taking a moment to wave his wand over his hair to make it slightly less of a nightmare.
He dropped his wand into the special pocket on his robes and then clapped loudly three times. His bed obediently reassembled itself into a perfect picture of 'bedness'. The sheets were tucked in with military precision and the blankets lay so smooth and flat they looked fake. Even his pillow fluffed itself into an absolutely gorgeous model of a cushion.
He wasn't allowed to get House elves to make his bed, and had been forbidden from casting spells to do it, but nobody had told him he was not allowed to use charmed bedcovers that had been taught to make themselves; not yet anyway.
"Exactly," said Hermione, recovering from her close brush with male nudity with remarkable speed. "So you see the problem. The more you use it to try and 'cheat the system', the more likely it is that it will turn on you."
"Interesting idea," said Harry, taking out his wand to summon his bag from wherever he had left it. "I guess I should try not to exploit my magical ability so much then?"
"That's right!" said Hermione. "There are loads of anecdotal evidence to suggest..."
Harry flicked his wand to open the door as he lead Hermione out of the room, fighting hard not to let the grin he really wanted to put on from showing while Hermione continued talking, ignoring everything contradicting her that had just occurred right in front of her eyes.
Behind them, Wayne suddenly yelled in outrage as reality and realisation caught up with him.
#
"Seriously, I don't get it," asked Harry, causing Moody's real eye to start twitching. "It just doesn't seem that bad."
"What can you possibly not understand, you daft donkey?" screamed Moody. "It causes pain so intense that it'll drive you insane in the blink of an eye!"
"Yeah, but it's not permanent, right? I mean unless it's held on you too long."
"What are you blathering on about?"
"Well you've got a lot better chance of recovering than if you had your legs burnt off or something," said Harry. "I mean the human body can only generate a set amount of pain and after that it makes no difference, so something like getting burned alive is going to be just as painful, but with the added shock of physical damage."
"Or if you had your guts pulled out of your eye sockets," added Ernie.
"Or had to watch someone eating part of your brain," said Justin, getting into the spirit of the conversation. "Surely that would be worse to experience!"
"And I mean you could probably have the memory of the Crucio Obliviated away, right?" asked Harry innocently. "So you might know it happened, but not recall the actual sensation."
" 'Corse there's some people that like pain," added Kev the Ravenclaw. "They might not even object to having it cast on them."
Moody was incoherent, his mouth just opening and closing without any sound coming out.
"I reckon they broke him this time," whispered Sue to Hannah.
"Serves him right. What kind of a fool thinks he can out-gross a bunch of teenage boys who have about as much empathy as a dead rock?"
"Get out!" screamed Moody, hurling the books from his desk as he finally recovered some semblance of wit. "Out, out, out!"
The girls wasted no time rushing for the door, their books already packed in their bag and ready even before the old Auror had started losing the plot, just as Harry had promised.
#
"Harry, why aren't you dancing like all the other boys?" asked one of the girls from one of the other houses, at least that's what Harry thought about her. "I've only seen you take a few dances so far while your housemates have barely sat down."
In truth, he had no idea who she was. The effort the girls had put into making themselves look, not necessarily better as such, but different to their normal appearance baffled Harry, and almost managed to stir a slight feeling of guilt at his own almost complete lack of effort.
True, his robes now shone with a magnificent bottle-green shimmer than somehow matched the colour of his eyes, his hair was practically glued to his head by several bottles of magical hair cream, and he was sporting a very elegant bowtie over an elaborate ruffled shirt, but it was not as if he had put any real effort into his look – he just asked someone who knew something about this sort of thing and then followed their instructions and suggestions.
The girls though, that was a different story.
With gowns that defied description and incorporated more magic than Harry had ever seen in any wizarding clothing (including his own), he could not possibly tell what house the questioner asker had come from, and without that clue and with the different often exotic hair styles and makeup they were wearing, he had absolutely no chance of recognising somebody he was not very familiar with already.
For all he knew she might not even be a Hogwarts native.
It was something he decided he needed to work on. Ignorance in anything when he had possibly the greatest collection of magical knowledge in the world within his reach seemed really wasteful, and Harry hated waste.
Possibly he could charm his glasses to label the people he was looking at with their name, a sort of heads-up display like in those science fiction movies Dudley liked to watch.
Magic was useful for things like that.
"Oh trust me," he said, pausing to take a small sip from an ornate goblet. "I am dancing on the inside!"
In reality he had worked out that even with the curse doing all the work of knowing how to dance, it still took physical effort. Several of the more enthusiastic boys had been forced to quit and leave when their energy reserves flagged too dramatically, but they seem to have had fun while it lasted.
For a couple of unlucky fellows, the charmed objects malfunctioned leaving them struggling to make do with only their own pre-learned skills or what little they had managed to pick up while cursed or to excuse themselves. They only had themselves to blame of course, either not taking Harry's advice about multiple charmed objects seriously or not understanding the magic well enough to pace themselves.
All in all, perhaps because of these issues, it seemed like there were a lot more females present than males, and for some reason a significant number were crowded around where Harry and his date sat.
"You dork," laughed the girl, slapping him lightly on his arm in an overly familiar manner that sent Harry's heart racing just a little bit faster and made his smile just a bit larger.
"Do you know what people used to believe a Dork actually was?" asked Harry's date in a tone that seemed pleasant and conversational, but somehow held a sharpness to it.
The questioner looked slightly confused and opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off as Megan continued speaking.
"The myth is that the true meaning of the word refers to the sexual organ of a male whale," she declared, staring intently at the questioner, who blushed. "I hope you weren't referring to my date in that context."
Several of the other girls gave little laughs or squeaked as they tried not to laugh. The questioner seemed suddenly very uncomfortable and a bit lost for words.
"Harry," said Megan, turning towards him. "I think I would like to go for a breath of fresh air outside."
"Okay," said Harry, automatically rising to his feet out of politeness as Megan stood up. She paused for a moment, looking at him as if considering something. "Would you care to join me?"
For a moment, for just a split second, Harry considered declining, since randomly walking around was most definitely not his thing, but then something inside his brain started screaming abuse in an unmistakable warning tone and he wisely chose to give it the attention it deserved.
"I would be delighted," he said, holding out his arm for Megan to take.
She smiled warmly and took his arm, and afterwards Harry could never really recall exactly what they chatted about as they made their way through a garden Harry had no recollection of ever seeing before.
"I am rather impressed that you never once managed to accidentally touch any of the girls you danced with in what could be considered as even a slightly inappropriate manner," said Megan, once again using far too many words to say what she really meant, leaving Harry not completely sure he understood properly.
Not that it matter, really.
"Thanks," he said, picking what was undoubtedly the easiest and safest answer.
"I thought all boys our age had only one thing on their mind," she said. "But you have been the perfect gentleman all night despite all those girls practically throwing themselves at you."
"Thanks again," said Harry, absolutely dumfounded by her words.
Throwing themselves at him? As far as he knew they were just all talking together as friends, since there were not enough boys left dancing to accommodate all the girls.
She stopped walking and turned to face him.
"You are not going to hit on me at all are you?" she asked with a thoughtful and slightly unsure look on her face.
It was unusual for Harry to let anything fluster him, even the most extreme situations. Not even this completely unexpected turn of events could cause him to panic and waste valuable energy, although his heart did start to race a bit faster.
"Should I?" he asked, bravely taking a step closer to her.
"Most definitely," she said, moving her face closer to his.
#
"Potter!" screamed Greasy, several very enjoyable minutes later.
The sudden interruption made Harry literally jump back and draw his wand with a speed he had never imagined he could achieve.
"What do you think you are doing?" demanded the professor as he stomped through the rosebushes towards the alcove where Megan and Harry had been snuggled.
"Why am I not surprised I'd have to explain it to you..." began Harry, rather more than simply annoyed by the sudden turn of events.
The number of detentions Harry achieved over the course of the next twenty minutes as he decided to take out all his recent frustrations on the surly professor set a record even the fabled Marauders would have been proud of and became the single most widely told story of the whole tournament outside of the actual tasks themselves.
Not that Harry intended attending even one detention, no matter how well deserved.
#
The second task was not going at all well.
It was obvious from the faces of the judges that they had not expected Harry to just refuse to go into the lake.
"I inventoried all my things just before coming here," Harry said. He carefully did not mention that the really weird elf, Dobby, actually did all the work. "There is nothing I really care about missing; so I'm done! You can keep whatever it was you took."
"You do realise you will fail the task?" asked the huge woman Harry still had a problem thinking of as Madame Maxine rather than just Big-Max, but Tiny had asked him to be a bit more polite, and since the half giant was kind enough to explain the Mermaid's song from the egg to Harry, it was only fair to make the small effort of using her proper name. Well, sometimes at least.
Drumstang's Headmaster, Igor (who really didn't fit that name as he had no hunch or lisp), seemed entirely too pleased at the prospect, while Baggy, looked quite ill and panicky and the Ministry stooge had a self satisfied smug look plastered on his mug.
Beardy looked his usual 'professional' self, but harry got the feeling he was quite amused. That probably wouldn't last very long.
"Yeah, but I really can't compete against the other Champions, who are a damn site more skilled than me, so it's a fair cop," agreed Harry.
Baggy went into a bit of fit, stumbling and bumbling while apparently trying to convince Harry to change his mind and have a go.
"Mr Potter," interrupted Dumbledore. "Perhaps you should not look at what, you are missing, but rather whom..."
Harry stopped for a moment, a confused look on his face until he suddenly opened in eyes in apparent comprehension. He searched the crowd, looking for his friends. One by one he ticked them off, until only one person was missing.
"Sue? You took Sue?"
None of the judges said anything, possibly bound by the rules of the competition.
Harry was lazy, but he wasn't stupid. He was not a great intellect like Hermione, or a clever strategist like Ron, or even a randomly brilliant mind like Moongirl, but he was extremely practical, and quite cunning and while he had in fact previously researched spells that could probably be used to avoid drowning (he had been looking for spells that would save him from the effort of having to breathe all the time, but there were too many downsides to such a permanent fix, like having to put sign on his chest saying "I am not dead" every time he went to sleep anywhere), he knew his magical skill was not up to a level to make a recovery effort likely to succeed – and he hated wasted effort.
He removed his wand and quickly cast two charms, the second of which astounded three of the judges, Dumbledore having apparently already been aware Harry could produce a corporeal Patronus.
Harry whispered a message to the glowing animal and it suddenly raced off.
"Where is it going?" asked Igor suspiciously, after he had shaken off his amazement that a seemingly average to almost incompetent fourteen year old boy could casually do such complex magic.
"To the place where people usually go when they discover a person has been kidnapped and is in danger," said Harry a bit flippantly as the effect of the cheering spell he cast on himself to enable summoning the Patronus kept his spirits high.
While the other judges looked confused and began demanding answers, Dumbledore no longer looked amused.
It was only a few minutes later that a group of very eager looking Aurors being led by an irate Madam Bones stormed into the grounds and over to the judges table.
The yelling and arguing went on for quite a while before four Aurors raced off and retrieved Sue from the bottom of the lake, while Madam Bones continued to 'tear the judges a new wand holder' as Justin later rather confusingly put it.
Unfortunately the Aurors encountered some resistance from the Merefolk and a bit of a battle broke out. The gouts of water and flying spears added some much needed excitement to the event for the spectators, who had really been equally spoiled and traumatised by the events of the first task. It got really exciting when the giant squid stumbled into the fray and began thrown anybody and everybody it could get a hold of into the air before pelting them with fish.
Harry took the opportunity to sit down and get comfortable of course, and only got up when Sue looked like she was going to kick him.
"I volunteered to be your hostage and you don't even bother to come and get me?" she demanded in an angry rant that Harry could not be certain was real or fake, or maybe half of each.
"I really didn't know how to do it myself," Harry found himself explaining. "And I figured these guys would do a much better job."
"So it wasn't that you just decided to take a nap then?" she asked.
"Definitely not," said Harry earnestly, earning a slight softening of her glare before adding cheekily. "Far too much noise out here."
His reassurances did not go down well.
#
"There is something I have been wondering about," said Susan, standing rather stiffly in the doorway of the long vacant class room where Harry had been quietly contemplating the colour of the darkness.
Well, that was the excuse he was going to use if anybody had asked where he had disappeared to. It was something Moongirl had said once and had stuck in his mind. In fact he had been sulking. Not that he would admit it, even to himself, not this time.
"How in the world did you find me?" he asked, taking his marvellous cloak off. "And I thought you weren't talking to me, like the rest of the house."
"I just asked the Twins, they always seem to know where you are. Also they said they have a bag of gold for you or something. They might have been joking but I can never tell with those two. Anyway, I thought about you not coming to get me from the lake, and got a bit angry..."
"A bit?" he asked allowing a hint of sarcasm into his voice.
"Okay, a lot," admitted Sue. "Especially after the Ball fiasco and the number of house points you lost us in your tiff with Professor Snape."
"Not totally my fault," said Harry. "How was I supposed to know the stupid House point thing could go into negatives? Once it hit zero there should have been nothing else to lose."
"Yes, well, that is not what I have been thinking about. I was wondering how it came to be that the Aurors got to Hogwarts so quickly after you sent your message."
"Er, what do you mean?" ask Harry innocently. "That's their job, right? To come running when someone needs it. It's not like it takes a long time to Apparate anywhere."
"Harry, I have lived with my Aunty for as long as I can remember. She is pretty much my mother, and in all that time, do you think she hasn't told me stories about how hard it is to get people to do their jobs, or how she misses being out in the field actually doing things instead of sitting behind a desk trying to get other people to work?"
"Er..."
"Well she has, and one of the stories I distinctly recall hearing repeated is how atrociously long it usually takes the department to respond to a call for help from an outsider."
"Er.."
"And yet, miraculously, not only did a whole team of Aurors get here with five minutes, but my Aunt herself was leading them."
"She's your guardian isn't she? Why wouldn't she come immediately?"
"Because she is the head of magical law enforcement and is expected to stay behind to organise and control things in the event of emergencies, not rush off on what could have been some wild goose chase reported by a fourteen year old boy!"
"I'm not sure what you are getting at," said Harry. "And I am hardly just any fourteen year old. Your Aunty knows me too remember, after that big thing with Rat-boy earlier in the year."
"I think you know exactly what I am saying, Mr Potter. I think the only way my aunty could have gotten here so quickly was because she was already waiting, with a full team of Aurors on standby."
"Ummm..."
"And the only way that could have happened is if you had not only worked out what the clue was, but also figured out well in advance that I was going to be taken as your 'hostage', and sent her a message; several messages in fact, I'd warrant. It must have taken a lot of work to convince her to get something like that organised."
"Don't know what you are talking about," said Harry, unable to keep a grin off his face.
"Funny, that's exactly what she said when I asked her about it," said Sue, taking a few steps into the room to stand closer to Harry.
"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," she said. "I wouldn't want to ruin your act for you, but I did just want you to know that I know."
"You're barmy," said Harry weakly.
Sue just smiled.
"Come on," she said, taking his arm. "Enough sulking, let's go get lunch."
"Not sure that's a great idea," said Harry. "I'm not really that popular at the moment."
"Don't be silly," said Sue, pulling him along. "Almost everybody is over their anger now."
"Almost everyone?"
"Well all of us that count anyway."
"That makes me feel oh so much safer."
"Well if popularity is your concern, you'll be happy to know that the Gryffindors absolutely love you right now."
"Should have left you drown," he mumbled as she walked him out of the room.
#
"See, is just as Winksie says," shouted the elf heatedly. "The dirty underthings needed washing!"
"No, no, no! It's the calling to dinner one," screamed another, waving a tea towel around like a whip. "Mr Harry Potter sirs called the Aunty, just like in the story where the young master was sent to call his mother!"
"Hows can dinner mean going under the water?"
"Yous is all wrong! It's been the parable of the bath time ducky little master tried to drown!" growled out a third, brandishing a massive ladle like a sword.
Dobby shook his head and just kept on with the dishes. The only good thing to come out of all this nonsense was at least he had more than enough work to do, since so much of the other elves' time was getting spent arguing about which of Winky's ramblings predicted whatever event had most recently taken place.
Sometimes he was sure the elves were only one step away from trying to make the events they derived from her often incoherent utterings happen...