PART TWO
CHAPTER SEVEN: WATER AND FIRE
He was flying. Yet the wonderful feeling of freedom that he usually felt when he was on the air seemed to have been snatched away. Instead, he was filled with anguish. His chest was burning and every new breath was more difficult than the one before. He could see nothing but a silvery mist under him and moving shadows. As his sight got accustomed to the pale white light, he saw that the shadows were the slithering forms of snakes, thousands of them, following the same course that he was. Where were they going? Why was he up there and not down below with the rest of them? Something was holding him. He was not flying on his own.
The creature soared higher in the white and cloudy sky, carrying him higher and away. It wheeled to his left, changing course. He felt the wind on his face, but it was hot, much too hot. The moving outlines of the snakes were no longer visible. Monstrous claws were gripped around his chest. He couldn't move. His entire body was limp except for the sharp pain in his lungs. The creature was tightening its grasp. It felt as though the claws were cutting into his skin.
And then he fell. He was falling into the empty white sky, without a wand, and without anything to stop his plunge but the hard ground below. He tried to look back at the creature and saw the shadowy outline of the white snake-like dragon. "Leo," he thought. Was the dragon following him? Would he catch him? The ground was coming closer. It was bright and silver and it was undulating gently. "Not the ground. Water," he realised. He was powerless. He was going to die. If the fall did not kill him, then he was certain to drown. He couldn't move, least of all swim.
"Harry, hang on," said a distant voice.
The wave of water that hit him filled his lungs instantly. The cold seemed to revive his body. He started to struggle. He had to get his head out of the water. He had to find air. He had to breathe.
"Harry, calm down! I'm not trying to drown you, mate. Calm down!"
Harry's mind raced back to where he was. Even with water dripping over his eyes he could still distinguish the stone walls and the dim light of Hogwarts. A pair of hands was pulling him on his feet. He could feel his feet. But when he looked down at the rest of his body, all that he could see was water up to his waist.
"Neville," he started to say, recognising the shape of the person who was holding him up. "What happened? Where are we?"
Harry felt a shiver run through his body. He was cold and wet, which was a contrast with the warmth of the water. Or was it the other way around? Perhaps he was too hot and the water too cold.
"We're in the Prefect's bathroom, Harry," explained Neville.
It was indeed the huge bathroom on the fifth floor as Harry remembered it, but there was no smell of perfumes or multicoloured bubbles. They were standing in the half-light. He could hear the water dripping slowly from his wet hair. The mermaid on the portrait hanging on the wall was not singing but seemed to be deeply asleep.
He rubbed the water off his eyes. The dragon and the white misty sky were gone. It had been a dream, just a dream. Why was he standing in the water then, wearing his pants and socks as though he had just taken a plunge? And why was Neville standing in a pool with him, fully dressed as well?
Someone seemed to read his thoughts. "You had Dragon Fever, Harry. The only cure is to submerge the body in water. That's why you're in the bathtub."
Harry looked up. Ginny was on her knees, leaning on the edge of the large tub which was more like a small pool. She was wearing her nightgown and the tip of the hair was wet with humidity. She had the same look of concern on her face that she had worn on the train.
"Check his shoulder, Nev," said Ginny imperatively.
Harry realised that he was not wearing any shirt. He looked away from Ginny, feeling a bit embarrassed, and wondering just how sick he had just been.
"There's the cut," said Neville conclusively after taking a swift look at Harry's back, "but it's not as visible as it was a few minutes ago. It's started to heal I think."
Neville and Ginny both let out a sigh of relieve and exchanged a look of triumph.
"I thought you were done for, mate," said Neville happily, "but Ginny knows what she's doing."
"I was poisoned by the dragon?" said Harry, catching on. His head was becoming clearer, but he felt extremely weak and exhausted.
He started to walk towards the edge of the pool, glad to be using his legs again. Ginny handed out towels to Neville and him, and she also gave Harry back his glasses. Soon, they were sitting on the stone floor; all three of them looking wet and weary. Ginny had opened an old battered book on her lap.
"It was a Chinese Fireball," she started to explain. Then she began to read with a tone quite reminiscent of Hermione.
"Recent studies of the Chinese Fireball's hunting techniques have determined that its dorsal spikes are highly poisonous. The poison is not lethal, however. It is merely sleep-inducing and paralysing. The unlucky victim becomes slowly unable to use his or her wounded limb and then falls into a sleep highly packed with dreams often resulting in the victim no longer recognising the dream world from reality. The side-effects of this poison also include a high fever and sporadic fainting. The only known cure is to submerge the victim's body in water, which should instantly restore the body to full health and put an end to the unsettling dreams. The mentioned side-effect, known as Dragon Fever, can last up to a few months after the body has been infected. It has been assumed that the Chinese Fireball likes to pursue its prey for a full day before making the final kill, as opposed to the Welsh Green… blah blah blah… That's it. The rest isn't that interesting."
She turned the book around and passed it over to Harry and Neville so that they could look at the picture. Harry instantly recognised the Chinese symbols and the snake-like shape of the dragon. This was indeed the picture that he had seen. Now he wished that he had remembered the text as well.
"Water and fire are powerful elements that always cancel each other out," added Ginny, wiping the humidity off her face with a corner of Neville's towel. "If you had been in real danger, I would have taken you to the hospital wing, but this was something that we could handle."
"Thanks," said Harry weakly.
"Nev stayed awake to watch over you," she continued. "We told everyone else that you ate something funny from Zonko's that made you sick during the first task. I thought that you had been poisoned but I wasn't sure so I didn't say anything. I didn't want you to freak out. I knew about Dragon Fever so I knew that you were not in any mortal danger. Nev sent Trevor to get me when everyone seemed in bed, at which point the fever had gotten really bad. We were able to sneak out with Sirius's Invisibility Cloak."
The words echoed in Harry's head. Had Ginny said Sirius's Invisibility Cloak?
"You didn't look well, mate," said Neville while he was drying his hair with the towel.
"Percy always lets me know the password to the Prefect's bathroom," added Ginny. "It wasn't easy to drag you here under the Invisibility Cloak. You were really out of it so Nev went into the pool as well so that you wouldn't drown."
"Thanks, guys. I appreciate it," said Harry sincerely.
Neville was only half-smiling and said no reply. He looked quite exhausted. Harry was really grateful, but he didn't want to tell them the whole story just yet therefore he was glad that Neville and Ginny were not asking too many questions. The dragon's picture was haunting him. It looked exactly like Leo. Had the dragon only been toying with him then? If so, then he should be dead now. He doubted that it could take a dragon very long to devour a human. But what did he know about dragons really besides the fact that they could understand Parselmouth? Had anyone else ever spoken to a dragon before?
He felt a second warm and downy towel being laid on his shoulders. Ginny was kneeling before him. She placed her right hand on his forehead, feeling his temperature. Harry allowed himself to close his eyes for a moment. He was still shivering uncontrollably with cold although the room was very hot and humid. It seemed like he had travelled a long way in a few hours. He had so many questions to ask, like who had won the first task, but the words were not coming out right now. He was still feverish and his upper back was aching on the left side. Ginny was touching his face. Strangely, nothing else seemed to matter but the present. He could have stayed lost in this moment forever.
"It should have been me," said Neville in a quiet and thoughtful voice.
Quickly, Ginny stepped away from Harry. Before he could realise it, they were sitting in circle again, all three of them. Neville was tucking his knees with both of his arms. He looked rather miserable, but at least he did not appear to have noticed the short moment that Harry had shared with Ginny.
"I chose to do the task instead of you," said Harry, staring at his feet and twisting the water off his socks. "It's not your fault that I got hurt. I was stupid to let it get me."
"No, you weren't. You weren't stupid. You were terrific. You're brave, like a real Gryffindor should be. I wasn't… I'm not…" His voice trailed off. "The Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin," he finally said after a deep breath.
He had said the last sentence quickly as though he was afraid of how his two friends might react. His voice was trembling. Harry saw that Neville was shivering as well, but probably for another reason entirely. Ginny was glancing from Harry to Neville, apparently at a lost for words. Harry didn't know how to reply. He had thought that this was a new Neville, sure of him, not fearless, but outspoken and full of activity, like Mr and Mrs Longbottom were. In truth, Harry realised, Neville was a lot like him. All the teachers and all the students were always expecting more of him. Harry too had been reluctant to assume his role as school champion, and now Neville had almost ended up in Slytherin House, just like Harry had.
"Me too," said Harry thoughtfully.
"Huh?" inquired Ginny and Neville in unison.
"The Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin as well," offered Harry. "It didn't because I asked it not to."
"So did I!" Neville said in wonder.
"Then we're both exactly in the house that we should be," concluded Harry.
Neville looked at him brightly.
"You're right," he said. "I guess I'm mad at myself for being such a…"
Ginny didn't let him finish the sentence.
"Nev, cheer up. There's still the second task. You'll do it this time, and you'll be great. You're not as worthless as you think, and I'm not going to spend the remaining of the night trying to convince you of that. You saved Harry's life more than once already and that's saying something. Can we get back to bed now?"
"Ginny has done it again," thought Harry admiringly. In a few minutes, she had managed to put a smile back on everyone's face. Harry vaguely wondered what would have happened if Ginny had not been his friend in this new reality.
Such were Harry's thoughts as the three friends made their way along the dark corridors under the Invisibility Cloak. Ginny was fighting the urge to yawn loudly. Neville looked happy but nervous at being out of bed against school regulations. It was well into the night when they got back to the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry felt completely drained and he could hardly keep his eyes opened. Ginny said a quick "Good night" and disappeared into the girl's dormitory as soon as they had stepped through the portrait hole.
They were slipping under their bed sheets when Harry remembered to ask Neville a very important question.
"What was the score for the first task?"
There was a silence.
"You took very long… What were you going, anyway?" asked Neville uneasily.
"I'll tell you tomorrow. Who won?"
"Krum. Fleur is second."
Harry let the news sink in. When he had decided to take Neville's place, he had not expected to finish last. Now that he was thinking about it, he couldn't believe that he had not thought more seriously about the possible outcome.
"I'm sorry, Neville," he said quietly.
But Neville's slow breathing was the only reply.
