Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any capacity. Sorry if this comes as a disappointment. If it comes as a surprise, then I recommend you read the last sixty or so disclaimers that I have written. You should have seen this coming. Sorry.

Chapter 62

On Monday evening, a few minutes after Hermione's double Arithmancy and Harry's free period concluded, Harry found himself waiting in the unused classroom the pair had agreed upon to try their Patronus lessons. Despite the bitter January chill, the classroom itself was quite warm; Harry almost immediately shed his school robes upon entering, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows as he sat atop the abandoned teacher's desk in the front of the room, his bag lying next to him.

Hermione entered a couple minutes later, and when her eyes landed on Harry the corner of her mouth twitched upwards into a sly smirk. "Good evening, Professor Potter," She said coyly, placing her bag on the nearest desk. She licked her lips and looked at him expectantly.

"You're here to learn a complicated spell, not flirt with me," Harry raised his eyebrows disapprovingly. Hermione responded with a pout and a small whimper. He simply raised his eyebrows further and she sighed, her impish smile returning.

"Whatever you say, Professor," She winked as she shrugged off her own robes and folded them neatly over a chair. Harry rolled his eyes as she pushed himself off the desk, telling himself that the warmth in his cheeks was solely a result of the temperature in the classroom.

"Did you do what I asked you to do?" He asked.

"Shockingly, I did my homework."

"Alright then," Harry smirked, crossing his arms. "So, you have your memory?" Hermione nodded, biting her bottom lip. "Am I a part of it?"

"You're basically all of it," She mumbled shyly. "It's our first kiss, in Cannes on that beach. You told me you liked me, and after we kissed you just held me in your arms while we watched the sunset." Her cheeks flushed and she darted her eyes towards the floor.

"Sounds like quite a happy memory," Harry smiled fondly. She met his eye and beamed. "So, you have to remember that this is an enormously difficult spell," He began, eliciting a nod from his girlfriend-turned-trainee. "Too many attempts can wear you out, even if you aren't in the presence of a dementor."

"So how many tries will I have tonight?"

"I think we should see how you feel at three. If you seem too fatigued by that point, we'll end it and wait until next week. If not, we'll go for a fourth try, but that's it. Does that work?" He asked, noticing Hermione's expression shifting to a disgruntled one. "You need to understand, something this complex will take every ounce of magic that you have. I know that the Granger style usually involves hammering away at a spell until you can do it in your sleep, but that's just not feasible with the Patronus."

"Alright," Hermione sighed, frowning slightly. "Show me what to do."

Harry nodded, stepping back and summoning his wand from his now-exposed holster. He closed his eyes for a bit, intending to recall that glorious day on the Quidditch Pitch after he had won the Cup for Gryffindor and kissed his girlfriend senseless.

Instead, his mind instinctively flashed to a different day, one much more recent. On a couch, in the Gryffindor common room. A fire crackled off to the side while a blanket had settled on top of him, but the thing that warmed him the most was the girl lying next to him, whispering three words he had never been told before.

"I love you."

"Expecto Patronum!" Harry exclaimed, snapping his eyes open. A brilliant silver light emitted from the tip of his wand, followed by a dazzling shape that slowly morphed into a stag. It was significantly brighter than any Patronus he had cast before, even brighter than the one he had cast to save Sirius and Hermione from the dementors near the end of their third year.

"Wow…" Hermione whispered, her face lit up in awe. Harry couldn't help but admire his handiwork as well. It was by far the most powerful Patronus he had ever conjured, and he had a feeling that it was not due to the lack of dementors in the room. He had a much better, much more powerful memory now than he had before.

"Yeah…" Harry said under his breath. "Wow." He turned back to Hermione as the stag bowed its head and faded. "Your turn."

"Mine's going to look like rubbish compared to that."

"Just give it a try," Harry appeased her. "Immerse yourself in that memory. Try to remember how you felt and focus on that feeling."

Hermione nodded slowly, closing her eyes for a moment. Harry watched her tense up every muscle in her body as she concentrated before exhaling and raising her wand. She repeated the incantation, and much to Harry's excitement, she conjured a thin veil of mist that lingered for a second or two before vanishing.

"That was brilliant!" He grinned, clapping his hands together.

"That was pathetic," Hermione grumbled, her arm dropping limply to her side as she sighed dejectedly. Harry placed his hands on his hips before walking back over to the teacher's desk and digging through his bag. Eventually, he extracted what he was looking for and unwrapped it, breaking off a piece for himself before handing the rest over to Hermione.

"Dark chocolate?" Hermione arched an eyebrow.

"Chocolate is known in both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds to possess mood-enhancing properties," Harry said matter-of-factly, brandishing the bar of chocolate in her direction. "Lupin explained it to me over the summer one day, after I asked him why it works so well for those who have been around dementors. Plus, I've heard dark chocolate is quite good for your teeth, among other beneficial qualities." He brightened as Hermione finally cracked a smile. "Someone really smart once told me that. And I try to listen to her when I can."

"Harry…" She mumbled, finally relenting and grabbing the sweet treat from his hand. After a few bites her smile had widened considerably, and Harry took the bar back and returned it to the desk. Hermione attempted the spell three more times – Harry couldn't say no to her when she pouted about not getting a fourth attempt. Although she never produced anything much more powerful than a temporary mist, she no longer appeared defeated by her results. If anything, it motivated her even more, like she was facing an even greater challenge. And Harry Potter had never seen Hermione Granger back down from a challenge.

"What are the chances Neville forgot?"

"Harry!" Hermione hissed, swatting him on the arm. "He may be a bit forgetful from time to time, but I seriously doubt he would let something as important as this slip his mind."

"Uh-huh," Harry nodded, rubbing his hands together in a vain attempt to keep them warm. The two of them were standing at the shore of the lake as the sun drifted lower and lower to the west, Harry clad only in his bathing suit. His shirt, jumper, and pants were all folded up nearby.

The wind was biting and the temperature was lower than Eloise Midgen's self-esteem, but Harry had insisted upon holding his practice run with the gillyweed when nobody would be on the grounds. Not only would the icy air prevent anyone from walking about and seeing him while he swam, it would also give Harry a warning as to how effective the magical plant could fend off the chill of cold water. Additionally, holding the practice session over a month prior to the Second Task gave him enough time to develop another strategy in case the gillyweed failed.

"There he is," Hermione pointed over Harry's shoulder. He turned and let out a sigh of relief as their friend jogged towards them, clutching a burlap sack the size of a snow globe in his hands. "Told you he wouldn't forget."

Neville came to a stop in front of the two, panting. Harry was certain that if it not for the freezing temperatures, his roommate would be sweating. Eventually, he caught his breath and thrust the bag into Harry's hands.

"Here's the gillyweed," He beamed triumphantly. "Like I told you earlier, the store only had enough to last for two hours. I've divided it into two hour-long portions, because the time limit on the task is exactly an hour, right?"

"Right," Harry nodded, opening the back and pouring the contents into his open palm. "Ugh, Nev!" He cringed as a pile of slimy green tendrils fell into his hand. "Are you sure these aren't just pickled rat tails?"

"Positive," Neville nodded, although he cast a look of revulsion at the plant. "Apparently it doesn't taste as horrid as it looks, but that's not really saying much, is it?" He chuckled wryly.

"Great," Harry sighed, flickering his eyes between the near-frozen lake and the disgusting plant in his hand. "Have I mentioned how much I hate this tournament?"

"Yes," Hermione and Neville sighed in unison. Harry glared at them both before redirecting his gaze to the gillyweed.

"Fuck me…" He muttered under his breath before shoving the plant into his mouth. He chewed furiously and forced himself to swallow the foul substance before turning to the lake.

SPLASH

Much to Harry's relief, the water itself was not as cold as it had seemed. On the contrary, he felt cool and pleasantly light, reminding him of when the sun was beating down on the beaches of Cannes and he would submerge himself into the ocean to cool off.

The gillyweed's effects – as proven by the water temperature – were instantaneous. A sharp pain broke out on his neck but quickly subsided, and Harry dragged his fingers along his skin to see that he did indeed possess gills. His hands were webbed, and his feet had elongated into flippers just as Neville had described. A few kicks of his legs propelled him several meters further than normal swimming would. He bobbed up to the surface and kicked his legs nonchalantly to stay afloat.

"I'm alright!" Harry cried out, keeping his neck below the surface. "It's working!"

He saw Hermione and Neville both looked visibly relieved and he chuckled, turning and diving back into the water once more. After a few strokes towards the center of the lake he reached into the pocket of his swimming trunks and produced one of about a dozen small golden balls that he and Hermione had created in their free time. With a tap of his wand, the ball began to emit a pulsing white light like a beacon. When Harry released it, it floated perfectly stationary in the water. Hermione had gotten the idea from the breadcrumbs Hansel and Gretel used in the famous fairy tale, although she did admit that birds went on to eat the breadcrumbs in the original tale and that they weren't of much use to the children.

Needless to say, Harry hoped he didn't have the same problem.

He swum along, producing one of the 'breadcrumbs' every couple of minutes and searching for additional landmarks as he moved closer to the center of the lake. He spotted a wide, flat rock that jutted out of the ground at a peculiar angle and drew his wand from his trusty wrist holster. Muttering the incantation to the Severing Charm, he carved a lightning bolt into the stone surface and pressed onwards.

A few minutes later, the muddy bottom of the lake dropped steeply, and Harry dove down with it, his eyes unblinking as his visibility diminished. When the ground leveled again, he produced another beacon and continued along, using the flashing white light to illuminate his surroundings. He nearly bumped into an old toilet seat that was floating inches above the ground, and he promptly grabbed it and wedged it into the soft silt below to serve as another marker before continuing.

Five minutes after that, Harry thought he had stumbled upon something when he spotted a gray light radiating from nearby. It was only when he glanced to his side and saw Moaning Myrtle floating lazily with him that he noticed it was just her phantom form lighting the way.

"Fuck!" He cried out, jolting to the side in surprise, but his crude language was muffled by the water and only a large bubble escaped his mouth.

"I was wondering when you would notice me…" The ghost sighed. "I haven't seen you since you and Professor McGonagall went down that broken sink."

Harry tried to look apologetic as best as he could while swimming and searching for any sign of merpeople.

"What are you doing in the lake, Harry?" Myrtle sighed. "And how did you get those gills?" Harry pointed to his mouth and shrugged, and Myrtle seemed to comprehend that he wasn't capable of speaking despite the fact that he could breathe underwater. "Oh, I see. Is this for some sort of elaborate prank?" Harry gave her a thumbs-down. "Are you looking for something?" Thumbs-up. "Are you looking for the Giant Squid?" Thumbs-down. "Grindylows?" Thumbs-down. "Merpeople?"

Harry didn't even have to hold his thumb down, his brightening expression answering for him. "Oh, they're just off that way," Myrtle pointed to their left. "They usually chase me away so I won't follow you. But you're always welcome to visit me in my toilet," She giggled before floating away. Harry rolled his eyes once she was out of sight and placed another beacon. He caught sight of another large, flat stone and carved another lightning bolt into it, followed by an arrow pointing to the left.

Harry quickly set off after doing so, and eventually he spotted a cluster of crude stone dwellings coated in algae. Some looked abandoned, but every once in a while Harry spotted shadowy movement in the windows; he didn't linger to see the source of the movements, doubtful that the residents of this underwater habitat would take kindly to strangers.

Suddenly, he happened upon a clearing and froze, his eyebrows shooting upwards as he took in the sight in front of him. An enormous statue of a merperson towered over the nearby structures, clearly carved out of a boulder. After glancing around and seeing no other significant landmarks, he decided this was as good of a place to make his mark as any. He kicked upwards, rocketing towards the surface with a swiftness that rivaled the speediest of sea creatures. He broke the surface and extracted his wand once again, pointing it to the sky above.

"Vermillious!" He bellowed, keeping his gills underwater. Red sparks shot out from the tip of his wand, and Harry quickly dove back down below. He returned to the statue and began swimming back in the direction that he had come from, collecting the enchanted beacons as he moved along.

Harry glanced at his watch – the same one gifted to him by Mr. Granger for his thirteenth birthday – and saw that he had roughly fifteen minutes to spare as he reached the toilet seat he had embedded into the lakebed. Putting on a new burst of speed, he pushed forward and eventually breached the surface once again a few yards away from the bank.

"I've found it!" He called out to Neville and Hermione. "But I still have the gills!" He added before submerging himself once again. After a few lazy laps back and forth he felt a familiar pain in his neck and pushed himself to the edge of the lake, reaching the surface and pulling himself back onto dry land.

"You're alive!" Was all Harry heard before a wall of force crashed into his side. He stumbled and fell onto his left side following the impact of Hermione flinging herself at him in relief. "Oh, you must be freezing!" She gasped, relinquishing her grip on him to pull out her wand and cast a myriad of warming and drying charms. "We saw the sparks."

"Did you mark the map?"

"I did," Neville piped up. He held up the Marauder's Map and pointed to a small 'x' that had been marked close to the center of the lake, precisely where a dot labeled Harry Potter had been when the sparks had been cast. "Hermione was too busy biting her nails and rambling about how worried she was."

"Neville!" Hermione hissed, blushing. Harry smirked again before picking up his nearby shirt and throwing it on, followed by the warmest jumper he owned.

"Well, I found the merpeople. I actually got some help from Moaning Myrtle, if you can believe that," He chuckled for a bit before continuing. "Anyway, right where I sent up the sparks is where this clearing is with a giant statue of a merperson. It seemed like a logical sort of place to put whatever they'll take, because I doubt they're going to make the champions search every nook and cranny of that place."

"Checks out," Neville nodded.

"And I sort of have a rough idea of the route I took," Harry rifled through his pocket and extracted one of the beacons. "These were a huge help. Since I took the same way both there and back, I feel like I know it that much better. I bet I could get there and back in half an hour, now that I know where to go."

"Brilliant!" Hermione beamed.

"Any problems with the gillyweed?" Neville chirped.

"None," Harry grinned. "Seriously, mate, I cannot thank you enough. The flippers help loads with swimming, and the water was barely cold at all. I now have much more respect for Herbology than ever before."

Neville returned Harry's jubilant smile and handed him the Marauder's Map. "So, what now?" He asked as Harry muttered 'Mischief managed' and placed the parchment in his bag.

"I believe I have an Ancient Runes essay to complete," Harry shouldered his bag and let out a blissful sigh. "Is this what normal people feel like? Not having to worry about death tournaments?"

"You're not worried about the task anymore?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"Why would I be?" Harry asked innocently as they began their trek back up to the castle. Dinner was scheduled to wrap up in ten minutes, and all three of the Gryffindors were starving. "I have my strategy for breathing underwater. I know where they're going to put whatever I'll take, and I know how to get there. I even set up a few non-beacon markers to use for when the task rolls around. Isn't that smart?" He grinned, bumping Hermione with his shoulder.

"Quite smart," She rolled her eyes, smiling to herself. "But you still don't know what they're going to take."

"True," Harry conceded. "But with this much going for me, I think I'll be able to get it no matter what it is."

"Fair enough," Hermione relented.

In the following five weeks, Harry dedicated nearly every second of his free time to perfecting his plan for the Second Task. He had memorized the spot on the map that Neville had marked when he had found the merperson statue and cast his red sparks, even being able to point it out from his window in the Gryffindor dormitory. His thoughts drifted to his journey through the lake so often he began to dream about it almost every night.

Of course, there was one consistent part of the week where he was not either working on his homework or preparing for the ensuing task. It occurred on Mondays, in between the conclusion of afternoon classes and dinner. During this time, Harry found himself back in the empty classroom helping Hermione with her Patronus lessons. Each week, her cloud of silver mist slowly but surely gathered strength and resilience until it resembled a shield that looked more than capable of fending off a dementor.

Their sixth lesson, the one that fell two days before the Second Task, proved to be the most interesting.

Harry was sitting on the teacher's desk when Hermione arrived, just as he always was. Hermione beamed when she saw him and happily placed her bag on her usual desk and discarded her robes.

"Excited?" Harry grinned as she drew her wand.

"Very," Hermione nodded vigorously. "I've been planning out a whole new approach all week, and I really think that it will be what I need to conjure a Corporeal Patronus."

"Is that so?" Harry raised his eyebrows. "Alright then. You know what to do."

Hermione nodded, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. After a few seconds she let out a long exhale and fluttered her eyes open, her lips curved into a small, wistful smile. She held up her wand determinedly and steeled herself.

"Expecto Patronum!"

A brilliant silver mist shot out from the tip of her wand, a bit disorganized at first before coalescing into a sturdy looking barrier of light. It was impressive and far beyond the talents of most seventh-year students, but it was almost identical to the last Patronus Hermione had produced a week prior, and just a tad better than the week before that.

Hermione groaned in frustration, letting her arm fall back to her side as she scowled. "I thought that would work," She muttered, fiddling with her tie. "I just can't see what the problem is."

"I can," Harry said nonchalantly, slipping off the desk. Hermione whipped her head towards him and tilted her head in confusion. "You're a very analytical person, right?" Hermione nodded. "You're analytical. You're logical. You operate on cold, hard facts whenever possible. That will help you to be a phenomenal student and an exceptional witch. But, the Patronus is an expression of feelings, not facts. You've managed to come this far – which is quite brilliant, I might add – based on your innate talent as a student and witch. But the spell itself is a projection of emotions, and the reason you can't cast a Corporeal Patronus is because that area is where you're lacking."

"Are you saying I don't have enough positive emotions to cast a real Patronus?" Hermione asked, sporting a hurt expression

"No," Harry shook his head quickly. "I actually think you have more than enough. I've seen you express enough positive emotions to cast an incredibly powerful Patronus. But your mentality when it comes to practicing magic usually involves casting emotions aside in favor of productivity. Instead of casting those emotions aside, harness them. They're what you need."

"I can't just manifest emotions out of nowhere, Harry," Hermione huffed. "You can't just tell me to be happy and expect it to happen."

Harry pursed his lips in thought. "Your memory is our first kiss, right?" He finally asked. Hermione hummed her affirmation, and Harry nodded slowly, stepping in front of her. Giving her a reassuring smile, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. The kiss was just as short, shy, and sweet as their first one, and based on Hermione's surprised squeak followed by a blissful sigh she felt just as happy as she had on that beautiful August evening. He stepped back and grinned as he watched Hermione's lips slowly curve into a giddy smile before she opened her eyes.

"You know what to do," Harry whispered. Hermione nodded and raised her wand once again.

"Expecto Patronum!" She said emphatically. Instantly, a much brighter light than the last one formed at the tip of her wand. Within a few seconds it had taken shape into something quite different from the stationary barrier it had taken last time.

"Oh my god!" A voice squealed from the doorway behind Harry and Hermione. The two of them spun around so fast they almost toppled over, but let out relieved sighs upon seeing that it was just Lavender.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, placing a hand over his heart as his pulse slowly returned to normal.

"Oh, I just came to tell you all that dinner is about to start," The blonde said nonchalantly as she folded her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe. "But clearly I chose a good time to walk in. Didn't I, Hermione?" She motioned to the Corporeal Patronus that was still floating up and down the length of the classroom, now clearly defined. Harry turned to beam at Hermione with pride but was surprised to see that her cheeks were burning Gryffindor scarlet.

"What's wrong?" He asked, but she only ducked her head and mumbled something incoherent. "Hermione?"

"I think she's just a bit embarrassed," Lavender smirked, eliciting a glare from her roommate. "I mean, it can't be coincidence, right Hermione?"

"What is she talking about?" Harry glanced back to his girlfriend, who was still blushing furiously as she fiddled with her wand.

"Merlin, you're dense," Lavender rolled her eyes. "Anyway, Harry, did you know that Hermione keeps exactly two things on her bedside table?"

"Lavender…" Hermione warned.

"One of them is the photo album you gave her for her birthday in our second year. She flips through it every other night, in case you were wondering," The blonde pressed on, feigning obliviousness to her friend's mortified state. "The second thing," she waggled her eyebrows at Harry, "is the drawing you made for her while she was petrified. She calls it Harry Otter."

"Lavender!" Hermione hissed, her voice several octaves higher than usual.

"Coincidence?" Lavender winked. "I think not."

Harry glanced back to the silver otter that was dashing back and forth in midair and felt his eyebrows shoot towards the heavens in surprise.

That night, when Harry finally drifted off to sleep in his dormitory, he dreamt of swimming through the lake once again. This time, however, he had a guide to show him the way. It was a silver otter, much like the one Hermione had conjured hours earlier. Harry struggled to keep up with the nimble creature but managed to do so, swimming deeper into the lake until he happened upon the merperson statue once again. Except this time, he didn't turn around and swim back. This time, he was motionless, paralyzed by terror as six words echoed throughout his brain.

"We've taken what you'll sorely miss."

Hermione Granger was floating right in front of him, her foot tethered to the statue.

A/N: Dun dun dun! By the way, the scene with Myrtle where Harry yells and swears is based on that scene from The Office where Angela sort of creeps up on Dwight and he has the same reaction. If you know it, you know it