A/N: Thank you to everyone that has taken the time to read and review, or really just read it actually. It means a lot. I even appreciate the criticism, it gives me things to think about. It's a little bit of a shorter chapter, but bear with me.

Chapter 4

Madam Pomfrey had released Harry from her care after an hour of only a few minor episodes and, to Harry's relief, only the remnants of his headache. She had impressed on him the importance of coming back if they became worse, and not allowing himself to be alone in case he passed out again.

She had then given him a hug and a quick kiss on the top of his head, which struck him as both equally odd and pleasant.

Harry and Hermione left the Hospital Wing and walked quietly for a time. Harry found himself resting in the silence—allowing his mind to wander—the feeling in stark contrast to the discomfort it had caused on the way to the Hospital Wing.

He was so lost in thought that it took him a while to notice that he had been following Hermione without any conscious thought and they were now somewhere on the fifth floor, nowhere near the dungeons.

"Hermione, where are we going?"

"Well, I thought we might skip the rest of Potions for today," Hermione said.

"Really?" Harry asked, partially relieved and partially flummoxed.

"Yeah, I don't think after running into Professor Snape in the stairwell earlier it would be wise to be in close proximity to him."

Harry had been dreading facing Snape and he felt elated at Hermione's suggestion. "I could kiss you right now."

Hermione blinked, stunned at his declaration.

Harry turned red. "I mean— I just— because you—"

She smiled at his awkward attempts at explaining himself.

"It's just, you caught me off guard. I wasn't expecting you to suggest we play hooky. You're usually so uptight about these things."

She shrugged. "I might have been at one time, but there are far more important things. And face it, anything I learn in Potions I can easily read out of a book. Professor Snape isn't the most interactive of teachers."

"Why do I get the impression that you just got some kind of perverted enjoyment from watching me struggle."

"Well," she began, looking at him out of the corner of her eye, "I think you look really cute when you're flustered."

Harry could feel the heat rising to his face, "That must happen quite a bit."

Hermione laughed. "Not often enough, actually."

Harry chuckled, "I'm struggling to figure out if that's a good thing or not, but the fact that I'm struggling really doesn't help my case at all does it?"

"No, but it's still cute."

Harry could see now that they were headed toward Gryffindor Tower.

"So, weird as this may sound, I've never actually skipped class on purpose, but doesn't hunkering down in the common room seem kind of obvious?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Hunkering down? You make it sound like we're fugitives. And we're not hunkering down there. We're just making a quick stop so you can grab the egg and then we'll head down to the kitchens. I figured now would be a perfect time to figure out the clue since you missed your chance last night."

"But why the kitchens?"

"It's the place most likely to have some tub or basin we can use. Cedric telling you to take a bath must be his clever way of saying you have to put the egg in the water."

"So, skipping class, but still doing work," Harry smiled. "There's the Hermione I know."

The kitchen was warm, the air filled with the smell of savoury dishes. House elves scurried back and forth, removing pans from ovens and stirring various liquids that softly simmered in large pots.

"Harry Potter!" someone squeaked.

Harry spotted Dobby as he weaved his way between the bustling workers, his head bobbing in and out of view as he ducked large platters of food that were being carried to and fro.

He came to a stop in front of Harry, a smile stretched from ear to ear as he gazed up at him.

Harry couldn't help returning the house-elf's smile. "Hey, Dobby."

Dobby clasped his hands together, "What can Dobby do for Harry Potter?"

"We were hoping you might have a large basin that we could use."

Dobby nodded his head vigorously, motioning Harry to follow him over to the far left wall where several large barrels filled to the brim with soapy water stood. Most of them already had dirty dishes stacked in them, but a couple on the far end were still fresh.

"Dobby can empty the water out of one of these," Dobby squeaked.

"No, actually this is perfect."

Dobby beamed and stepped to the side, bowing.

Hermione came to stand next to him.

"Well, here goes nothing," he said.

Harry lowered the egg into the water, tentatively opening it, steeling himself for the high-pitched noise; but as the two pieces of the egg separated, the only noise came from the flurry of bubbles that rose and broke the surface of the water in a continuous stream.

"What now?"

Hermione crossed her arms, drumming her fingers against them. After a moment she said, "Stick your head in the water."

Harry's head snapped up. "What?"

"Maybe the noise sounds different under the water."

Harry had to admit that it made sense. He leaned over, took a breath and dipped his head into the water. As his ears became immersed, the bubbling noise morphed into a song.

Come seek us where our voices sound,

We cannot sing above the ground,

And while you're searching ponder this;

We've taken what you'll sorely miss,

An hour long you'll have to look,

And to recover what we took,

But past an hour, the prospect's black,

Too late, it's gone, it won't come back.

He pulled his head back out of the water, sucking in air.

"Well?" Hermione asked.

Harry wiped the soap and water out of his eyes, the drops running down his face and dripping on his robes.

"It's some type of riddle. Hold on a second." He submerged himself again and listened, trying to commit the words to memory.

He straightened back up and repeated the first few lines of the song to Hermione before dipping back down to listen again. After a couple more times he had repeated the entire song.

Hermione pinched her bottom lip, her features twisting into a look of deep concentration. Her head bobbed as if to some unseen music. After a few minutes she began to pace, talking out loud to herself.

"Okay, well the first part is obviously about who's singing the song. The rest is just saying something important has been taken and you have to get it back and you'll only have an hour to complete the task or you lose it for good. But what lives underground that you can't hear above?"

As Hermione pondered the riddle, Dobby came bouncing up with a towel which he deposited in Harry's hands.

"Thanks, Dobby."

Hermione shot him a reproachful look at what she considered a rude interruption on his part.

There's the uptightness, Harry thought to himself. He rolled his eyes as he dried his face and hair.

Dobby stared up at him with large eyes. "Did Harry Potter find what he was looking for under the water, sir?"

"Yeah, for the most part."

Hermione whipped around. "Is it too much to ask for a little qui-," Hermione's annoyance quickly faded. "Wait, what did you say, Dobby?"

Dobby had shrunk back at the unexpected sharpness of a girl that was usually so kind to him. He looked at Harry, unsure if he should say anything; but he didn't have to, because Hermione had walked away, shaking her head. Then she turned back, uttering an exasperated sigh. "It's underwater. I'm such an idiot! You could only hear the voices when you opened the egg under the water. It has to be the Black Lake. That's what it means when it says the prospects black. Whatever takes the thing you value most lives in the Black Lake."

Harry looped the towel around the back of his neck. "As helpful as that is to know— I can't swim."

Hermione pursed her lips. "Yeah, that would be a problem. We have a month to figure it out though, that should be plenty of time."

Harry and Hermione spent the next couple of weeks researching charms and spells that could possibly be useful, but most of the ones they found were for higher-level students.

"What about this one?" Harry said, pointing at a picture of a man with a circle drawn around his head.

Hermione craned her head across the table, reading the passage upside down. "A bubble head charm. Another sixth-year level skill."

Harry sighed and slammed the book shut, earning him a glare from Madam Pince, who he could have sworn hadn't been anywhere near them just a moment ago.

"All of the other champions have years of experience on me."

"I think we've established that."

"So, I'll just have to squeeze a couple of years into a couple of weeks," Harry said nonchalantly.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Harry said, "that I might just have to start trying some of these spells out."

"Harry, that could be really dangerous."

"What choice do I have? And haven't I proven that I'm capable of performing spells well above my year level? I was able to form a full Patronus last year."

"When?" Hermione asked, surprised.

"When we used the time turner to go back and save Sirius. You were standing right next to me."

Understanding dawned in Hermione's eyes. "Harry, that never happened in this timeline."

She spent the next fifteen minutes catching Harry up on everything that had been different in the previous year. Harry was disappointed to discover that he'd never achieved a corporeal Patronus, but when she told him that they had managed to get Peter Pettigrew to the castle and subsequently had Sirius cleared of all charges, the loss of the achievement didn't seem that important.

"So, I live with Sirius now?" Harry's hopes soared as he imagined never going back to live with the Dursleys.

"Well, not exactly."

Then she went on to explain that Dumbledore had insisted that he stay with the Dursleys every summer, and after a long heated argument with Sirius, his godfather had relented.

"But you still see him every summer. He picks you up on your birthday and you spend a couple of weeks together traveling."

Harry's head pounded as flashes of Sirius and him in various locations popped into his mind. He clenched his fist, riding out the pain. He'd experienced these quick flashbacks frequently in the past weeks, everytime someone brought up something from the past. They weren't the most enjoyable thing, but they were bearable. Luckily he hadn't experienced any more major episodes.

"At least Wormtail's locked up."

Hermione grimaced, "Unfortunately not. He escaped during transport to Azkaban."

"Of course he did." Harry guessed that some things were just inevitable.

"Well, I know that I'm capable of performing the Patronus charm, so I can at least try some of these others. What's the worst that can happen?"

Hermione shook her head. "I think you're forgetting that the Patronus is directed outwards; these other spells are performed on yourself. There's a million things that could go wrong."

Harry leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms."Well, do you have any other ideas?"

Hermione sighed. "No, I don't."

"Hey, guys, is everything alright?"

Neville had walked up, loaded down with a stack of books, facing them side on in order to see them.

Harry gestured frustratingly to the books that had accumulated on the table, "I'm cooped up in the library on a Saturday, Neville. What do you think?"

"Maybe I can help you out," he offered.

"Unless you happen to be holding a book that tells us of some spell that can teach me to swim and enable me to breathe underwater, I'm afraid not."

Neville dumped his books on top of theirs, causing Harry to jump back, nearly tipping backward in his chair. He dug one out of the bottom of the pile and handed it to Harry.

"Like this one?"

Harry grabbed the book. It read Magical Mediterranean Water-Plants and Their Properties.

"There's a chapter in there on gillyweed. I think that's what you're looking for."

Harry flipped to the table of contents, found gillyweed and turned to the chapter listed. Hermione had stood up to get a better look over the pile of books that separated them. Harry's eyebrows steadily rose as he read the properties of the plant.

"You've got to be kidding me," he said as he finished reading. "Neville, this is perfect. Where can we get some?"

Neville had started picking up the books he'd dropped down, paused, and smiled apologetically. "No idea, Harry, sorry. That stuff is rare."

Harry let his head drop onto the book. "You've got to be kidding me," he said again.

"Hermione, I'm not doing it, so stop pestering me about it."

After their conversation with Neville, Harry and Hermione had gone straight to Professor Sprout to ask her about where they could acquire some gillyweed. Their spirits had risen when she informed them that she did in fact know where some gillyweed was. Their spirits had promptly dropped when she told them it was in the possession of Professor Snape.

Harry had given it up for a loss, but Hermione had been trying to convince him that there was no harm in asking.

"Harry, what other choice do you have? You're running out of time."

They were on their way to double Potions and Hermione was making one last push before they entered the dungeons.

"He would never give it to me anyway, Hermione. He hates me."

"It couldn't hurt to try."

Harry snorted. "Yes it could."

"Harry, please just try," she begged.

"Fine," he snapped, pushing ahead of her into the classroom, feeling a modicum of guilt for the way he spoke to her.

The double block passed in agonizing silence between Harry and Hermione, the former dreading the end of class but simultaneously hoping that he could get it over with.

"Professor," Harry said as class was coming to an end. "Could I speak with you?"

Snape eyed Harry with interest. "If you must, Mister Potter."

Hermione threw him an encouraging smile as Snape motioned for Harry to follow him to his office.

Harry sat uncomfortably in an old wooden chair while Snape seated himself behind his desk.

"Now, what can I do for you?"

Harry breathed in deeply through his nose, letting it out as he forced himself to speak. "I need a favour, sir. I was researching ways to complete the next task and I came across something that may help but I'm told that only you have. Gillyweed."

Snape leaned forward, steepled his fingers, examining Harry scrupulously.

"I'll give you the gillyweed, Potter."

Harry had prepared himself for a scathing rejection, so Snape's reply left him speechless.

"But," he said, "You have to do something for me in return."

Harry got an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. "What's that?"

"I want you to show me how you managed to travel back in time."