Friday, February 24, 1995, dawned overcast and just a few degrees above freezing. The Potters awoke in each other's arms, and Harry couldn't help but to feel a profound sense of relief that he would not have to declare blood feud on anyone after all. After cuddling with Hermione for a few minutes, he got up and put on his own wetsuit, as he figured he'd have to at least get wet. "What bloody jackass thought it'd be a good idea to go diving in a Scottish loch in fucking February?" he grumbled as he zipped up the neoprene suit. Satisfied with the fit, he reached for the harness that carried all his gear and weapons.
"I believe that would be Bagman," his wife said as she got dressed. Her tone was just the slightest bit teasing.
They finished getting dressed and went down to breakfast, stopping at the foot of the Grand Staircase as usual to wait for their friends. The three champions arrived soon after, each wearing their wetsuit under their robes and an expression of grim determination on their face. As expected, Neville, Daphne, and Susan were nowhere to be found, but to Harry's rising dread, neither was Luna.
"Winky!" Harry called.
Surprisingly, she did not show up. After a minute or two, Harry's face was thunderous.
"Dobby!" he called next. This time, his summons was successful.
"What's up, Harry?" the little fellow asked as soon as he appeared.
"It looks like Winky and Luna have gone missing. Would you be able to help us find them?"
Dobby's large eyes widened in surprise before narrowing in anger. "I'm on it," he said. "This might take a few minutes. You should probably try to eat something in the meantime."
Harry nodded, though his anger had not abated. "Thanks, Dobs," he said. "You be careful, okay? And anything you do is acceptable to ensure their safety and your own."
The elf nodded and popped away. Harry closed his eyes and took a few deep, steadying breaths as Hermione rubbed his back. When he reopened them, he'd managed to bring his anger down to a simmer.
"I'm sure she'll be okay, love," Hermione said.
"Most likely she will be," he agreed, "but the fact remains that she is my protectorate and I was not asked permission – which of course would not have been given. This is kidnapping, plain and simple. I'm sure he'll hide behind the tournament and his position, but this will definitely be added to the charges if the old goatfucker's involved."
Hermione arched a sceptical eyebrow. "You really think it's a possibility he's not involved?"
"Not a snowball's chance in hell," he scoffed. "Bastard's in it up to his crooked nose. I just want confirmation from Dobby before I do anything."
The three champions commiserated with him over a meagre breakfast, but for the most part all five teens remained silent as they mentally prepared themselves for the Task ahead.
Dobby had not yet appeared when Dumbledore got to his feet and invited the contenders to make their way down to the Black Lake, where they would prepare to begin the Second Task. Harry growled under his breath as he stood along with the champions and his wife, sending a glare of pure hatred towards the headmaster. There was really no doubt in his mind that the old man was behind Luna's disappearance, and he was determined that there would be retribution once it was confirmed.
As they made their way towards the lake, Dobby suddenly appeared in front of them, causing the five to stop. He was breathing heavily, one of his eyes was swollen shut, a jagged gash was sliced across his cheek, and his uniform was cut and bloody. One of his arms hung limp at his side as he swayed on his feet, yet as unsteady as he was he stood with a look of triumph and slowly-dwindling anger on his face.
Hermione gasped in horror as she saw their diminutive family member. "Oh my god, Dobby!" she cried, dropping to her knees. "Are you okay?"
"I will be, Hermione," he replied, brushing her cheek with the back of his good hand. He turned to Harry, who had dropped down beside his wife. "Winky is safe now," he reported. "She's still unconscious and will likely be weak for a few days." His good eye clouded over with fury. "It was Dumbledore," he growled. "He ordered the Hogwarts elves to collect Luna about six hours ago. When Winky tried to stop them they ganged up on her and beat her down. She was hurt pretty bad, but I was able to stabilise her and heal her injuries. That's what took so long – I thought you'd prefer me to make sure she's okay before reporting to you."
Harry nodded. "You did perfect, Dobs."
"Thanks. All she needs now is rest." The elf took a deep breath. "Luna is in the lake. I was not able to get her out."
"You did what you could, my friend," Harry said. "Thank you for that."
The liberated house elf shook his head. "Harry, house elves should never be able to behave like that. Kidnapping? Assault? It shouldn't be possible. I fear Dumbledore has some unnatural hold on them."
Harry nodded. "I believe you," he said. "We'll get that sorted later, though. For now, you go and get healed up, and look after Winky, okay? I'll take care of our Luna."
Dobby nodded and popped away as the Potters rose to their feet.
"I'm going straight for Luna," Harry told the others. "You know I don't give a damn about the tournament, and I'm still not intending to interfere with your performances. Your hostages should be safe, so there shouldn't be any issues with you waiting for the official start."
The three champions exchanged glances with each other before Viktor gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. Fleur nodded at Cedric, her face wearing an expression of fierce determination. The Hogwarts champion gave Harry a sardonic smile. "We are all growing less impressed with how this tournament is being run," he said. "We're all bound to participate, but I think I can speak for us all when I say to hell with the tournament. This is about building friendships and international good will. I reckon we'll be coming with you. Besides, Luna's our friend too."
Harry and Hermione both smiled at their three older friends. "Thanks, guys," Harry said. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate this." He turned to his wife. "Love, I know you'd gladly come with…"
She interrupted him with a kiss. "But I don't have the gear," she said. "Besides, you all need someone up top covering your backs." She grabbed his hand and started again towards the lake. "Shall we?"
Besides a small group of low-grade Ministry flunkies responsible for setting up the judges' booth and the stands for the spectators, the five were the first ones down to the lake. Without making any kind of contact with the workers they walked down to the pier extending out into the frigid waters of the lake.
Fleur gave the overcast grey skies a dubious look and shivered in the chill breeze that blew in from across the lake. Not quite cold enough for ice to form, even overnight, the lake nevertheless was not far from that point. "Even with gillyweed and the wetsuits, I think we'll need warming charms," she said.
The four competitors dropped their robes on the dock and immediately ate a small handful of the slimy plant each. As the magical weed began to take effect by growing gills and webbing between their fingers and toes, the four jumped into the water and immediately submerged.
Hearing the splash, one of the Ministry workers hurried over. "What are they doing?" he demanded as he drew near and saw Hermione standing watch over the discarded robes.
"Mind your own business," she suggested. Her wand was in the low ready position, not pointed at him but ready to fling a spell at the drop of a hat. Not that she even needed her wand, but he didn't know that and appearances had to be maintained – for now.
Spluttering indignantly, the Ministry worker decided to back off. Let the higher-ups deal with this witch, he told himself. It's not my job, and I don't get paid enough to deal with angry witches anyway. He'd never admit to anyone that there was something about this girl that unnerved him.
***FTR***
The murky waters of the Black Lake closed over their heads and visibility quickly dropped to barely more than a dozen feet in front of them. Harry silently cast a modified combination of the lumos charm and the point me charm, creating a dazzling sphere of blue-white light that moved before them in the direction of Luna's location. The light moved quickly but no faster than the four could swim, allowing them to easily keep up. Harry took the lead, as it was his spell that guided them, and the other three followed close behind – Fleur right behind him, with Viktor and Cedric flanking her and hanging back just enough to easily keep her in sight.
The light guided the quartet through the mysterious freezing waters, going ever deeper and deeper. As it swept past a thick cluster of lakeweed growing near a drop-off, a swarm of grindylows, vicious little water demons, surged up towards them. Harry immediately stopped and waved both hands in independent gestures.
A crackling ball of pure white energy flew from his left hand as a shimmering wall of transparent blue energy swept into being in front of them, curving around the swarm of attacking grindylows as well. A moment later the white sphere detonated.
Even though they were protected by Harry's shield wall, they could still feel the concussive blast deep in their chests, similar in effect to being within fifty feet of a lightning strike. The grindylows, however, were blasted into bloody gobbets of savaged flesh. Those far enough away to not be torn into pieces were still killed by the shock wave, their bodies floating belly-up to the lake's surface.
The three champions turned incredulous eyes towards the youngest competitor. Just how powerful was he? They couldn't help but notice that the three spells they'd seen him cast underwater were done wandlessly and silently. Would any of them have any chance of winning the tournament if he was legitimately trying?
They saw Harry dispel the shield wall and gesture for them to continue. The guiding light continued on before them, leading them onward and downward.
It was maybe ten minutes later that they saw a glow appear ahead of them towards the bottom of the lake, and it was towards this glow that the descending light guided them. A short time later they began to discern the shapes of fluid, organic-looking structures carved from stone. The light lowered to the rooftops of what were clearly buildings. Streets lit by pale green lamps wove their ways through the underwater village, spiralling in towards a large open area in the centre, apparently the same location to which they were being led.
Sure enough, in what would be considered the village green in a surface settlement, four tall posts were sunk into the lakebed in the shape of a square. Tied to each post was a robed figure, the identities of whom were confirmed as their friends as soon as the four contestants swam closer. Surrounding their missing friends were scores of merfolk lazily swimming about, each wielding a weapon such as a spear, harpoon, or trident.
The four hostages were tethered to the poles with green rope made from lakeweed, drifting back and forth in the gentle current. They appeared to be asleep, but Harry remembered from the previous timeline that they were in some sort of magical stasis.
Without a moment's hesitation Harry sped towards Luna, pulling his kukri from its runically-hidden scabbard. Maybe it was the look of resolute intensity burning in his eyes, maybe it was his magical aura flaring even underwater, or maybe it was all of it at once. Regardless, the merfolk guarding the hostages took one look at the young man shooting towards them like a torpedo, wicked-looking blade extended, and couldn't get out of the way fast enough. Not a one thought to challenge the young wizard. A quick flick of his blade later and Luna's limp form was held protectively in his left arm.
Having secured his beloved friend, Harry flipped around to see how the other three were doing. Cedric was gathering a just-freed Susan Bones under his arm while Viktor cut the rope holding Daphne in place before gathering her up. Fleur cut Neville loose as well, but the merfolk seemed fixated on her – and not in a healthy way. Quite a few of them scowled or bared their jagged teeth in her direction, grips on their weapons tightened, and their fins began twitching apprehensively.
Harry cursed in his head – they seemed to be tensing for an attack, but at the same time appeared to defer to one particular merman who looked tougher and even more regal than the others. He decided then to take a calculated risk. Tightening his grip around Luna, he swept down behind the apparent commander and lay his kukri firmly against the merman's throat while lifting his knees and bracing them against his back on either side of his long dorsal fin. The curved blade dug in just far enough that the slightest movement on the merman's part would sever his throat in either direction.
Every one of the merfolk froze as they turned their hostile glares from Fleur to Harry. The young wizard caught Viktor's eye, as he was the closest, and gestured with his fingers for the Durmstrang champion to help him with Luna. Krum immediately came over and collected the blonde girl from Harry, freeing the younger boy's arm. Harry quickly pointed to the merfolk warriors and gestured for them to drop their weapons. He pressed the blade a little deeper to emphasise his command, and one by one the merfolk reluctantly complied, including the one Harry held at knifepoint.
The wide-eyed veela hurriedly cut Neville loose and at the direction of the other contestants began swimming towards the surface, carrying her beau with her and holding a lumos on the end of her wand. Cedric and Viktor ascended next, both of them helping Luna as well as carrying their own hostages.
Harry waited until the champions and their hostages were clear before he too began to ascend. With his knees on the merman's back and his blade curving around the merman's throat, almost any movement was difficult, but Harry used his free hand to cast a wandless, wordless aguamenti charm, causing a jet of water to magically shoot forth from his palm.
After rising an adequate distance with his taken hostage, Harry swiftly brought his feet up and kicked off the merman's back, whipping his kukri off the other's throat. Still using the conjured water jet for extra propulsion, he quickly widened the distance between himself and the merman, who was chittering angrily at him. He lost sight of the furious water-creature through the gloom as he caught up to the others, using the small but bright light from Fleur's wand to find them.
He cast another guiding light, this one to Hermione, whom he knew would still be on the pier, before collecting Luna from Viktor and Cedric. The quartet followed the light at a slight upwards incline, careful to keep watch to their rear in case any vengeful merfolk decided to pursue. The last thing any of them needed was a trident in the back.
***FTR***
The spectator stands were mostly full by the time the Tournament officials and school Heads arrived, but the four contestants were nowhere in sight. There was only a single lone figure standing on the pier.
"Where the hell are they, Albus?" Karkaroff demanded. "We can't start the task without them."
Bewildered, the Hogwarts headmaster looked around. "I'm sure I don't know," he said. "They were told to come down here and await further instruction." He frowned as they neared the dock and recognised Miss Gra – Lady Potter. The girl stood sideways so she could keep watch on the lake as well as those on shore. She would certainly know where the others were, and with a sinking feeling he began to suspect that he knew where Harry was at least.
Before they could take another step, a tremendous geyser of water burst from the lake's surface. To Dumbledore's shock and horror, small limp forms were flung in multiple directions out from the centre of the eruption. Based on the size and tentacular appendages, he suspected that the creatures were grindylows instead of merfolk, thankfully, but the sheer recklessness of setting off a concussive blast capable of such destruction frankly terrified him. Such destructive force should never be used lightly, and only as an absolute last resort when all other possible courses of action have been exhausted. To use such for something as inconsequential as a school tournament was unthinkable.
He was afraid that it was Harry Potter who had cast such a spell, which could only mean that the boy was further in the clutches of the Dark than he had originally feared. It was imperative that he get the boy back under control. The entire magical world depended on him being able to make that happen. If he failed, they were all doomed, and this new evidence of the boy's state of heart simply made the situation all the more desperate. And desperate times most assuredly called for desperate measures.
Carefully schooling his face, Dumbledore led the others to the pier, though he was still rattled from what he'd just seen. "Miss Granger…"
"Don't you ever fucking talk to me again, you miserable old bastard!" she snapped. "You had no right to take her!" Her wand was in her hand and the tip was glowing with arcane energy.
The headmaster took a cautious step back. The level of rage and sheer hate in her eyes was almost enough to incinerate her chosen targets on the spot. Such an expression should certainly not be seen on the face of anyone claiming to be of the Light. It would seem that her association with young Harry had corrupted her – or had she corrupted him? Either way, he was positive that his chosen course was the correct one.
"Miss… Lady Potter," Bagman pleaded, "could you tell us where the champ… er, contestants are?"
She skewered him with her eyes. "Can you tell me whose diseased mind came up with this fucked-up excuse for a task, let alone an entire tournament?" As Bagman wilted under her gaze, she shook her head in disgust. "They're helping my husband," she said, gesturing towards the lake.
"And why aren't you?" Karkaroff sneered.
She defiantly met his eyes. "Someone has to watch their backs and keep you lot from fucking things up more than they already are." She waved in the general direction of the stands. "Why don't you just go have a seat and wait for them to come back, and try your best not to interfere with things? Although some of you may find that impossible, I guess," she muttered. Still keeping a wary eye on the tournament officials, she shifted a measure of her attention back to the lake.
"Perhaps it would behove us to take our places at the judges' pavilion," Madame Maxime spoke up. She knew Lady Potter's words were not directed at her so much as the other officials and so did not take offence. Without waiting for any agreement from the others, she strode off in that same direction, trusting that the sheep-like mentality of so many magical people would encourage the others to follow her.
Sure enough, Ludo Bagman immediately fell into step behind her, followed by Percy Weasley. Scowling, Igor Karkaroff glared at Lady Potter, then at a disgruntled Albus Dumbledore, then followed the others. Shaking his head, the Hogwarts headmaster was the last to move away.
It wasn't long before movement could be seen under the water's surface approaching the pier. A few moments later eight heads broke the surface of the lake – the four contestants and their hostages. The gillyweed was wearing off by this time and the four hostages were waking up, so Hermione cast a wide-angle warming charm at the water so they wouldn't freeze before reaching the pier. Really, whoever came up with this task was a fucking moron. It would have been much more appropriate, assuming swimming had to be involved, for it to have been held no sooner than late May.
As the swimmers neared the pier, Hermione waved her wand and conjured a stack of warm, toasty blankets. She helped each hostage climb up to the pier and immediately wrapped a blanket around them, muttering under her breath about idiotic tournament officials. Luna, not having a wetsuit, warranted several blankets. Once the four hostages were dry and warming up, she helped the competitors up to the pier as well. Harry, of course, insisted that the three champions precede him.
Once he climbed up on the pier, Harry cast a drying charm on himself followed by a warming charm. He saw the tournament officials marching their way to the pier, unsurprisingly led by Dumbledore. Growling under his breath, the young lord strode out to meet them, fingering the flap of one of the runically invisible pouches on his harness.
As Dumbledore approached the recalcitrant child, he donned his Concerned Grandfather mask. "Harry, my boy…" he began.
A burst of lightning exploded inside his skull as Harry's steel-clad fingers crushed in the side of his face. He must have blacked out briefly, for the next thing he knew he was lying flat on his back looking up at the young lord standing over him, an expression of cold fury on his face as blood dripped from the curious metal rings he wore around the fingers of his right hand.
"We're through, old man. You kidnapped a protectorate of an Ancient and Most Noble House, injuring a member of that same family in the process, and all this after you were given adequate means of fulfilling the parameters of your little contest. Don't ever approach me again for any reason or you will die. Professor McGonagall will be the Hogwarts point of contact for anything involving my family, and that includes Luna. From this day forth you are dead to me." He spat on the headmaster's face as he slipped the rings off his hand. The small part of Dumbledore that was not reeling from this unmitigated disaster was surprised to see it was actually a single piece of metal with holes cut out to accommodate the fingers. Harry scourgified the item and slipped it back into a leather pouch that flickered out of sight once the flap was buttoned. "The only reason I don't declare blood feud against your entire wretched house," Lord Potter continued, "is that I didn't specify Luna as well as my wife." He grabbed Dumbledore by the front of the old man's robes and hauled him up until they were eye to eye. "I for goddamned certain should never have had to," he hissed. He shoved the headmaster back hard enough to make the old man fall on his arse again, sending sharp pulses of agony from his ruined cheekbone and jaw to his freshly-broken tailbone. Without a backward look, Harry turned around and walked back to his friends.
Albus Dumbledore lay on the cold, wet ground, the chill wind sending a throbbing ache accentuated with stabbing fire through the lacerated flesh and pulverised bone of his face. He could barely move and couldn't speak at all, only groan.
As much as he hurt, though, the blow to his ego was even more painful. The other tournament officials gathered around him, each with a different expression. Bagman, as expected, looked confused, while Karkaroff wore a condescending smirk and Weasley stared after Potter in a simmering rage. Maxime, though, looked at him in what could only be described a unbridled disgust.
It was at that moment that Minerva appeared along with Poppy Pomfrey. "What did you do this time, Albus?" the deputy head groaned.
The school's healer sighed as she cast a diagnostic spell. "Shattered mandible, crushed zygomatic, cracked coccyx," she said, shaking her head. "Really, Albus. You must stop antagonising Lord Potter. His patience with you is obviously at its end, and you are too old to deal with his anger without consequences that will last the rest of your life." Without waiting for a response, Madam Pomfrey waved her wand, immobilising the headmaster, then levitated and guided him to the infirmary.
It was left to McGonagall to dismiss the curious spectators, telling them that due to "unforeseen irregularities" the Second Task could not proceed as originally planned. There were a few exclamations of disappointment, but for the most part everyone was eager to return indoors. Sitting in stands by a frigid lake at the end of February was not what anyone would consider a good time.
It was also left to her to approach the champions (Harry had already set out for the castle with Hermione and Luna) to discuss their course of action regarding the task. Cedric shrugged when she asked them to explain. "The leadership and planning of the tournament leaves much to be desired," he observed. "The organisation is pitiful. Of the Ministry representatives, the only one with any competence hasn't been seen for months. He's been replaced with a sycophant not even a year out of school, while I'm not entirely certain the other knows for sure what planet he's on. We've collectively decided that there is no national or scholastic pride worth fighting each other over, so instead we're going to cooperate to the utmost of our capabilities and show what true teamwork can look like."
McGonagall was surprised but quite pleased with Cedric's response. "Twenty-five points to Hufflepuff," she said with a smile.
"Certain headmasters may object to us cooperating," Viktor spoke up. "At this point we really do not care about the points. Lord Potter has shown that with minimal participation our magic remains safe. He has also shown himself to be an honourable man. The same cannot be said for most of the organisers and officials, except for the Beauxbatons headmistress." Here he bowed to Fleur.
"Lord Potter's sole reason for participating today was to bring back a young lady for whom he was responsible. He went for her early, knowing he'd be disqualified from this task for doing so. We chose to go with him because things like friendship, loyalty, and honour are more important than competing for status and money. We all participated, so our magic is safe, but we did so outside the rules – so we should all be disqualified." Viktor and Cedric both nodded their agreement with Fleur's statement.
The deputy head nodded. "The three of you are certainly a credit to your respective schools," she said. "Regardless of the opinions of the heads and officials, you are truly the embodiment of what this tournament is supposed to be about. Very well, I will inform the others and we will make the formal announcement tonight at dinner. You are all dismissed for the rest of the day."
The tournament officials for the most part were not as agreeable, but McGonagall wasn't for having any of their attitudes. As she often found herself doing of late with the students and staff of Hogwarts, she simply took command of the situation, ignored any and all protests, and told the officials exactly how it was going to be. Her task was made significantly easier with the support of Madame Maxime.
It was just after lunch that Harry approached his Head of House and informed her that Luna would be moving into the flat he shared with his wife. "This shouldn't even be necessary," he said, "but when the headmaster himself refuses to follow the law, how can I trust her well-being to anyone else? She is as much my responsibility now as the Lady Potter is."
Minerva certainly couldn't argue with him, even if she had been so inclined. She authorised the move without hesitation.
Surprisingly, the Headmaster said nothing the following day after being released from an uncomfortable night under Madam Pomfrey's care as the bones in his face were carefully regrown using Skele-Gro. His head still ached, but as least that stabbing pain was gone. After receiving Minerva's report, he simply nodded and sequestered himself in his office.
It was clear that the Potters were lost to the Light. They both exhibited violent tendencies and unforgiving attitudes, without the slightest care regarding the potential lethality of their actions. This was an unmistakable sign that they were both going Dark, if they hadn't succumbed already.
And yet, magical Britain desperately needed Harry to fulfil his destiny and vanquish the Dark Lord. He was at the end of his rope. He had only one opportunity for the brat to return to his control now, and he was determined to see it happen. No matter how many people had to die before the boy would submit, he had to see it through to the end. The alternative was unthinkable.
Fortunately, his solution would be ready in less than a week. When it was implemented, young Harry would once more find himself under the benevolent control of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.
***FTR***
Harry contacted Madam Bones the next day and informed her that he would be adding charges of kidnapping, conspiracy to kidnap, assault, assault in conjunction with kidnapping, and wilful disregard of the wishes of a Head of an Ancient and Most Noble House in regard to his family and protectorates. The last charge was something that was possible only because of the laws favouring the current power base, but even though he personally thought it was too much leniency given to the establishment, he had no issue using those privileges to nail Dumbledore to the wall. He also informed Madam Bones that he'd like to go ahead and move forward with the prosecution.
The reply the following day agreed with his request. The charges would be added, which would take a few days to go through official channels, but if all went well the trial should begin in no more than two weeks.
In the meantime, Luna moved into the second bedroom in the Potters' flat. Dobby brought all of her belongings as Winky was still recovering, and kept an unseen eye on her at all times while she attended her classes. When Harry asked him if he needed any backup from potential action by Hogwarts elves under Dumbledore's control, his friend's eyes grew hard.
"That issue has been dealt with, Harry," he said.
Harry shivered at the tone in Dobby's voice and did not press for more information.
Winky recovered from her physical injuries but was still distraught that Luna had been harmed on her watch. It took nothing more than a loving, heartfelt embrace from the blonde girl to raise her spirits again. Dobby's reassurance that she would never be assaulted like that again saw her giving him a heated kiss in thanks.