After the start of the year, time seemed to fly by, days blurring together until Harry woke up and found herself nearing the end of February. Vaguely she recalled that they had studied unicorns in Care of Magical Creatures, but mostly she remembered spending evenings with Bronach, Hermione, Ginny, and Luna as the older girl taught them all to swim.
"The Second Task will take place in the Black Lake," Bronach had said, voice tight with disapproval. "Traditionally, it is a rescue of hostages taken from the champions because they are precious to them."
"Utterly barbaric," Hermione had said, and Bronach had nodded grimly.
"Glorfindel has warned your headmaster against taking human hostages, advising him to choose objects instead, but there is no promise that he will listen. And Glorfindel cannot protect Hogwarts students, no matter how much he wishes to."
"You think we're at risk then?" Ginny had gestured to Hermione, to Luna, and to herself. "As hostages?"
"Hermione, most definitely," Bronach's frown grew deeper. "Ideally, the champion's romantic partner is taken, but if unavailable, a sibling or close friend will suffice."
"So, Hermione for Krum, and Luna or Ginny for me?" Harry's gut still churned uncomfortably when she thought of her friends, unconscious under the lake, waiting for her to come and save them. But Bronach had promised that none of them would remain beneath the dark waters of the lake past the hour that the egg had burdened them with. The older girl had called them into the tent, had them all listen to the song trapped inside the egg which rested in a basin of water, dipping their heads in one after another. Kreacher had offered them towels, and as they dried off, Bronach had outlined the task.
"That is my best guess. Now, there are several ways to approach this challenge, but I intend to teach you the two I think you will master most easily in the two months that we have."
So Bronach had shown them a room on the seventh floor, a room which would become whatever they wanted it to be, if they only asked. Bronach had asked for a pool, shallow at one end, gradually growing deeper, and in the shallow end, she and Ginny had taught Harry how to float, how to press her face into the water and use her arms to pull her along. Hermione had taken swimming lessons before coming to Hogwarts, and she and Luna had splashed about in the deeper waters while Harry learned, but soon enough Harry was joining them, and Bronach was teaching them new things.
There was a plant that gave you gills.
Harry wondered if Neville knew that such a plant existed, and resolved to ask him after the challenge. Bronach supplied it generously, showing them how much they needed for a half hour, for a quarter hour, for two hours. Harry found herself marveling at the ability to stay under water, counting the mosaic tiles on the bath's floor, laughing with her friends as they cavorted like the mermaids that Hermione showed her in the books. It was a little like flying, pulling herself through the water, and while she missed her broomstick, she thought that she might be willing to accept this as a substitute.
They worked on nonverbal casting, which Hermione said was only for NEWT students, but Bronach shrugged and said it could save their lives, so they might as well learn. It was necessary, because you couldn't speak with gills, and they wouldn't be the only beings in the lake. The Merfolk wouldn't hinder them, Bronach said as they dried off one night, but there was always the squid, who might be pressed into being an obstacle, and a number of creatures that lived in the lake, like grindylows, which Harry remembered Lupin teaching about sometime last year, and any of them might need to defend themselves.
By the time February was drawing to a close, Harry could spend an entire hour dueling underwater with Hermione, Ginny, and Luna, though they only had a half-dozen spells or so that they could manage nonverbally. Bronach had also drilled them in the bubblehead charm, which made the user look as if they were wearing an upside-down fishbowl, but ensured at least three hours of clean air.
All in all, it wasn't much of a surprise to her when the morning of the Second Task came around, and Hermione wasn't in the dorm, having been called away the night before by one of the prefects. Harry was up early, and she glanced out at the snow covered grounds, where she could just see the shore of the lake from her dormitory window. There were structures that looked a bit like the Quidditch stands out there now, and she took several deep breaths while she slipped into the muggle wetsuit that Bronach had gotten for her.
She'd protested, initially, but Bronach had shrugged and told her that it had been part of her practical studies: working runes into the wetsuit to allow the wearer to remain comfortably warm while adapting with the changes brought on by gillyweed. It clung in an unfamiliar way, but Harry was used to it, and she made sure to slip extra socks into her robe pocket, in case the ones she intended to wear down to breakfast were misplaced in the shuffle. Her shoes and robe she'd leave on the shore, but there was no use in taking extra things with her.
Tugging her robe over her head, she pulled her hair back into the tightest braid she could manage, having learned that it became even more unmanageable underwater during her swimming lessons. Carefully, she picked up the utility belt that Hermione had rigged for her, based on a healer's belt she had found in Gladrags, already equipped with enough gillyweed to keep four people breathing underwater for two hours each.
Once again, Bronach had insisted, dividing up her gifted vials into varying increments and making Harry repeat them back to her.
"One hour," she had said, tapping the vial with the most gillyweed in it. "You take this when the cannon goes off. It should see you through the task. The rest of these are in fifteen minute increments."
After she'd confessed to not having a watch that worked, Bronach had taught them all the tempus charm, but also had appeared two days before with a strip of leather with metal-stitched runes on it that she fastened around Harry's wrist.
"It's no watch, but it's a good timer," the older girl had said, lips pursed as she tightened the strap. "When you take your first dose, tap the big symbol four times. That sets it up for an hour, and it will warm at the five minute marker, so you have enough time to take another dose if you need it. One tap is fifteen minutes, so you can add to it if you take extra doses. If you have to give gillyweed to someone under the lake, you'll have to track time for them on your own."
The strap was still there, peeking out from under the sleeve of her wetsuit. Tucking her wand into the pocket Bronach had stitched into her sleeve, Harry left the dorm, figuring she might as well make a start on attempting to eat something before the task.
When she reached the Great Hall, it was only about half full. It seemed like most of the students were taking advantage of morning classes being canceled to have a lie in, and Harry couldn't blame them. Krum was at the Slytherin table looking even more dour than usual, his Durmstrang classmates a protective barrier around him. At the Ravenclaw table, Luna seemed to be reading the latest edition of the Quibbler, her wand holding her hair in a bun on top of her head, much to the dismay of the Beauxbatons delegation, who were clustered around a dismayed looking Fleur, alternately comforting her and glaring at any Hogwarts student who came too close.
A little while after, when Harry had slowly made her way through a piece of toast, Fred and George ambled down, helping themselves to bacon and eggs with a yawn. "No Hermione?" Fred asked as she passed him the pumpkin juice.
Harry shook her head, not sure she could explain without giving away that she probably knew too much. How Bronach knew these things was a mystery to her, but Harry was reasonably sure that the Tham Angol group knew far more than they were supposed to. Why they shared it with her was beyond explanation, but Harry was desperate to survive this death trap, so she wasn't going to look too closely.
"Odd, that," George said, watching her closely. "Not like her to miss something like this. Ginny too."
"They might be in the library," Harry managed, taking another piece of toast. "Looking up something at the last minute."
"Perhaps," George said, clearly not believing her. "You're awfully calm about it though-"
The doors of the Great Hall slammed against the stone walls, rattling in their hinges, cutting him off. Harry had never seen them wholly open, always only one, or both partially open, but they bounced off the stone walls with an echoing thud, silencing the entire hall.
Bronach stood in the doorway, chest heaving as if she'd been running, clad in a long shirt only half tucked into pants, her hair a messy braid hanging down her back. She looked almost out of her mind as she glared up at the Head Table, eyes sweeping the room briefly before fixing on something in front of her.
A quick glance, and Harry realized that she was glaring at Dumbledore, who was sitting in his usual chair, conversing quietly with McGonagall. Bronach strode up the aisle between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables, the students flinching as she passed.
In the few months that she'd known Bronach, Harry had seen the older girl truly emotional only a few times, but never, ever had she seen Bronach even a fraction as angry as she was now. The Great Hall had quieted until there was only the soft slap of skin on the stone floors, Harry realizing that Bronach wasn't wearing her usual boots. Red sparks trailed in her wake, like summer sparklers that sizzled and left tiny scorch marks on the floor.
"You were warned Headmaster," the girl hissed as she drew to a stop in front of the staff table. "And you gave your word to Glorfindel that you would not trespass on ground claimed by Tham Angol."
"I have not broken my word," Dumbledore said comfortingly. "I tread not on Tham Angol ground, but on the grounds of Hogwarts, of which I am Headmaster. No part of the grounds can be kept from me."
"We left our wards open to you out of courtesy, headmaster, and you have betrayed our faith in you," Bronach snapped. "You dare-!" her words trailed off into an incoherent sound of rage. "You meddle in what you do not understand!"
"Come now, Miss nos Arnor," Dumbledore said, the twinkle gone from his eye. "I do not know what so disturbs you, but you must be overwrought, with the task in a short time…"
"Curse your task!" Bronach shouted, voice overloud in the silence of the Great Hall. "You crossed our wardlines and cursed us all to sleep while you crept like a thief to take one of ours! Your meddling may well kill them, and what then? You were warned to take no living hostage from Tham Angol, and you have betrayed our trust!"
Her eyes were blazing as she drew a knife from somewhere on her person, slashing it uncaringly across her palm, a red line of blood welling in its wake, drops falling to the floor.
"Hear me, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," Bronach said, practically trembling with rage as she stared down the Headmaster. "In front of these witnesses and the Valar…"
"Thuri Ruinil, daro!" a voice barked from the doorway, and Harry saw Glorfindel there, looking rumpled and as if he'd aged a decade or more since she'd last seen him the night before. With him were Legolas and Gimli, as well as Bilbo, all of them similarly rumpled and grim. Glorfindel said something else to her, in the strange language that Harry heard them use sometimes around their campfire, and she spat something back at him, gesturing with the bloody knife at Dumbledore.
Glorfindel said something in return, voice stern and commanding, and Bronach snarled back, her language changing once more to something harsher and guttural, that almost seemed to cast a shadow over the room.
To Harry's surprise, Glorfindel seemed to almost glow with power as he spoke a single word, and Bronach closed her eyes and lowered the knife, clenching her bleeding hand into a fist as blood dripped through her fingers to the floor.
"Ú-laeth di," she said, sounding so incredibly broken that Harry wanted to reach out and wrap her in a hug but she found herself riveted to her seat.
"I know," Glorfindel's voice was soft, and Bronach padded softly down the aisle between tables to where he stood, stopping in front of him for a long moment.
If he said something, it was too soft for anyone to hear, and then Bronach disappeared into the Entrance Hall, leaning slightly on Legolas as she went, Gimli on her other side.
Glorfindel looked up to the staff table, suddenly seeming to blaze with power once more. "While Bronach nos Arnor may have been rash in her actions, her words were true. Albus Dumbledore, you have struck against Tham Angol. By noon we will see the depth of the wound you have inflicted."
He too turned and left, and the hall sat in stunned silence for a long moment before hushed whispers broke out, everyone glancing between the open doors and the staff table.
"Miss Potter, are you well?" a voice said to her left, startling her. Harry flinched, and saw Bilbo's apologetic wince as she turned towards him.
"Yeah, is Bronach okay?" Harry couldn't let go of the sight of the girl's blood dripping onto the floor, rust-red splatters still dotting the flagstones.
Bilbo sighed heavily, looking twice his normal age. "We woke this morning from bespelled sleep to find Elladan missing, and Elrohir unable to be roused. Bronach is...understandably distressed."
Harry swallowed hard. Bespelled sleep. Bronach had told her that Tham Angol had declared its students off-limits for hostage taking, and from what Bronach and Glorfindel had implied, Dumbledore had ignored that, putting the camp to sleep and kidnapping Elladan. "Why won't Elrohir wake?"
"It's rather hard to explain," Bilbo said, sighing once more. "I'm afraid I am rather at a loss to understand it myself…"
"They're twins, aren't they?" Fred interrupted, looking pale, and frighteningly serious. "Proper magical twins, two halves of a single soul."
Vague memories of the betrothal ceremony swam into Harry's mind as Bilbo nodded, looking slightly relieved. "Yes, that is the case. Anyway, the camp is entirely in an uproar, and I must return." He paused, and then glanced at the table. "Miss Granger, as we expected, and...Miss Weasley. Bronach will be unhappy, if she can be coaxed from Elrohir."
With that he marched off, leaving Harry with only the twins, who looked twice as grim as they had a moment ago. "What does being twins have to do with anything?" she asked them warily.
George scowled up at the staff table. "Magical twins are really rare," he said. "Twins, they're about as rare as they are for muggles, I think, but magical twins...they're different."
"But how?" she demanded, picking at her piece of toast. "I don't understand."
Fred looked down at his plate, and then at her. "Nobody outside of magical twins understands it, but according to the stories, magical twins are bonded. The same soul, shared in two bodies. They love the same people, possibly can share their thoughts, and most importantly, what happens to one trickles down to the other."
A sick feeling was growing in her stomach. "So, if Elladan was in a state of...suspended animation right now, unable to wake, Elrohir would also be unconscious?"
"Exactly," George said sharply. "If one gets hurt, the other usually feels it in some manner. And if one twin dies...usually the second twin can't survive the severing. I didn't realize they were proper magical twins, though it makes sense now. You don't see many triads without a set of twins involved."
"Our uncles were proper magical twins," he added after a moment, looking away from Dumbledore, who had resumed his conversation with McGonagall. "Mum doesn't talk about them much; they were killed by Death Eaters. But for a while everyone was really worried about Fred and I, until I broke my arm and he was fine."
She breathed a quiet sigh of relief, not wanting to ask about something that seemed intensely private, but glad he'd answered the question anyway. But her relief was quickly gone as Fred turned to her, a dark look in his eyes.
"What did he mean about Hermione and Ginny?"
"They took hostages for the second task," she said, figuring it was safe enough to tell that part of the secret. "We're supposed to retrieve them."
"And the hostages are unconscious?" Fred looked mutinous. "How much danger are they really in?"
Harry winced. "Some and not at all?" she managed weakly. "The clue says we only have an hour, but Bronach was pretty certain that the judges wouldn't put them in actual danger…."
"They better not be," George said, reaching across the table to grab Fred's wrist and tug him back down into his seat. "Mum's going to flip her lid if she hears Ginny almost died at school again."
They didn't say much after that, but based on the shocked horror slowly spreading through the early risers in the Great Hall, Krum, Cedric, and Fleur had put together the implications of Bronach's display with the clue and realized that they were also missing a hostage. Word was spreading, and by the time McGonagall came down to the table to fetch Harry for the task, it was clear to see who had been there for Bronach's arrival, and who had missed it entirely.
"Miss Potter, if you would come with me?" the professor said, and Harry dutifully rose and followed.
"Professor, are the hostages okay?" she asked as they stepped out onto the path that led down to the lake.
The older witch's lips pursed in disapproval. "All of the hostages are well, Potter."
Catching the hint, Harry didn't ask anything else before the Professor left her at the shoreline, shivering in her robe, the other champions arriving with their own professors or headmasters. Cedric looked determined, and Fleur looked halfway to tears, but Krum approached her.
"Haff you seen Herm-own-ninny?" he asked gruffly.
"They took her," Harry replied, fingering the leather band Bronach had tied around her wrist. Krum nodded jerkily, and took up a place at the lakeshore, staring into the dark waters. He'd been swimming in the lake, they'd spotted him one day on the way to Hogsmeade, and Harry briefly wondered why Bronach hadn't taken them out to the lake herself.
The stands were nearly full, and Ludo Bagman was starting his commentary by the time Bronach appeared. Harry almost flinched when she spotted the Tham Angol group arriving, so grim and forbidding were the familiar faces she'd grown used to seeing.
Glorfindel was leading, dressed in sturdy leathers, hair pulled pack into a long tail, his ever-present cheerfulness missing. He stopped briefly to wish all of them luck before joining the judges at their table, clearly uninterested in talking with any of his fellow headmasters.
Thorin, Fili, and Kili were all present, clad in leathers and what seemed like chainmail shirts, the boys looking far more serious than Harry had ever seen them. They stopped a meter or so away from the area the champions were waiting in, glaring down Bagman as he tried to direct them into the stands.
Bronach swept past the announcer without sparing him a glance, clad in all gray. A hood lay pooled around her neck, and a strange arrangement of leather straps criss-crossed her torso, holding a long rod diagonally across her back. Her hair was braided and pinned tightly to the top of her head, and she was wearing boots now, boots tied securely to her calves, a knife obviously tucked into each boot-top. She did not look as if she was prepared to swim at all. Harry swallowed hard.
"By now you know that the judges have placed a living hostage beneath the waters," Bronach said quietly, ignoring Bagman riling up the crowd. "I am assured that they will come to no harm, but if you wish to forfeit your scores, I will bring the hostages to the surface unharmed minutes after the task begins. No glory nor gold can be worth the life of an unconsenting hostage, but I recognize that you may not feel the same."
She paused, eyes a stormy gray as they gazed unseeingly at the waters. "If you wish to try, I will give you no more than the hour allotted to you before I bring the remaining hostages out of the lake. If any of you return empty-handed before the hour is up, I will count that as a forfeit."
Cedric, Krum, and Fleur glanced at each other. Cedric stepped forward, hands out disarmingly. "I know where you're coming from," he said gently, "but I would like to try." Fleur and Krum nodded in agreement, though Fleur seemed unsure. Bronach's lips tightened, but she seemed as if she expected this answer.
"Very well then," she replied. Quickly, she pressed a kiss to each of their foreheads before turning to Harry.
"I'm sorry about Elladan and Elrohir," Harry said awkwardly, wringing her hands.
She felt like a bug under a magnifying glass as Bronach studied her for a long moment, before leaning in and pressing a kiss to her forehead, right next to her scar. "You will find your path easy to follow," Bronach breathed before withdrawing. "Swim fast, Harry Potter."
Harry didn't have time to consider the words, hurrying to kick off her shoes and socks and pull her robe over her head, opening the bottle of gillyweed just as Bagman signaled for them to ready themselves. A cannon boomed, and she crammed the gillyweed into her mouth, swallowing as she dove into the water. It felt like a sheet of ice, even through the wetsuit, but as she kicked, she felt warmth rippling over her, and then the change made everything easier. Tapping the wristband's symbol four times as instructed, she looked around her, trying to find the mermish village Bronach had speculated existed in the lake.
To her surprise, a faint green line appeared in her vision, like a string stretching out into the depths. Wondering if this was what Bronach had meant when she had said that her path would be easy to follow, Harry swam as quickly as she could, following the line. To her surprise, she saw Cedric swimming in the same direction, and put two and two together. Bronach had leveled the playing field by giving them all a map to the hostages, ensuring as few delays as possible.
The village appeared in front of her, and Harry swam through the crowds of merfolk that lined their underwater streets, heading for the statue looming in the distance. As she drew closer, she could see familiar bodies bound to the statue, and she put on an extra burst of speed.
Hermione and Ginny were tied next to each other, their stillness disconcerting in the murky underwater light as their hair billowed out around them in brown and red clouds. Next to Ginny, looking positively tiny, a little girl who could only be Fleur's sister was bound, and Harry hesitated, wanting to take her with her. But she glanced over her shoulder, saw Diggory approaching, and steeled herself. Fleur would be able to make it, and if she didn't, the sooner Harry got back with Ginny, the sooner Bronach would rescue all of the hostages. Taking her wand from its pocket, she swam slightly to the side and aimed at the kelp ropes. Diffendo, she thought, slashing her wand down, and the kelp parted easily. Tucking her wand away, she caught Ginny under the arms like they'd practiced, towing her up and away from the village and its silent crowds. Diggory passed her on his way in, clearly there for Cho, who was on Fleur's sister's other side.
Harry hadn't dared look much at Elladan, though she knew he was on Hermione's other side, looking so much more vulnerable than any of the others for all that he was far taller than any of them. Bronach had clearly been worried about his inclusion in this task, and Harry doubted it was anything to do with the linked comas both of her betrotheds were in. She wouldn't be this upset over anything less than a mortal threat to them.
Krum passed her, or she thought it was Krum, his head transformed down to his shoulders into that of a shark, and she spared half a thought to be impressed by the skill it must have taken. She didn't think even the seventh years learned transfiguration like that.
As she reached the shallows, Harry paused, treading water, as she rummaged on her utility belt for the little bottle of antidote that Bronach had insisted that she carry. She couldn't surface while she still had gills, and if she had to wait in the water for an hour, she wouldn't be able to help Bronach rescue Elladan faster. So she stuck the bottle in her mouth, pulling the cork off with her teeth and tucking it in her cheek before she swallowed the potion, kicking her way to the surface as she felt the effects course through her.
She surfaced a moment after the gills disappeared, lungs aching, Ginny's startled gasp in her ear. Spitting out the cork, Harry awkwardly shoved it into the empty vial and shoved it back onto her belt before heading to shore, Ginny swimming next to her.
When they stepped out of the lake, Madame Pomfrey was there, clucking disapprovingly as she wrapped blankets around the both of them, shoving a Pepper Up at Ginny before snatching the vial from Harry's belt and sniffing it suspiciously.
"It's just a gillyweed antidote," Harry said, clutching the blanket tighter around herself as she shivered in the cold air, freezing bank mud squelching unpleasantly between her toes. "Can I put my robe on?"
"Hmph," the matron muttered, thrusting a Pepper Up into her hands. "Potion first, then you can get dressed. Swimming in the lake, in February no less!" she complained, turning back to Ginny, who clearly had been taken in her usual school robes and had no dry clothes to put on.
A wave of warm air settled over Harry a moment later, and she glanced at Madam Pomfrey, who was now interrogating Ginny about how she was dry. As Harry picked up her robe, she realized Bronach was sitting cross-legged on the shore, eyes shut, almost as if she was meditating.
"I am," Bronach said, not opening her eyes. "Meditating, that is." A beat later she added. "Can't even think of drying charms. Are we magical or not?"
Harry didn't know what to say to that, so she just tugged her robe over her head and used her old socks to wipe the mud from her feet before putting on the fresh pair and her shoes. Ginny had been rescued from Madam Pomfrey by Fili, and was standing behind him. Kili caught Harry's eye and beckoned her over.
"We're to keep an eye on you," he said, oddly serious. "Bronach's orders. We're at war footing right now until Elladan and Elrohir recover."
War footing? Harry had so many questions, she didn't know where to start. But before she could even try, Cedric and Cho broke the surface, Bubblehead charms popping as they came ashore and were smothered by Pomfrey and her blankets. Harry watched as they both downed the potions, steam coming from their ears, and then she was distracted by Fleur surfacing, covered in sluggishly bleeding wounds. Pomfrey practically had to drag her from the water, the French witch shouting and trying to get back in, but the matron was firm, and soon Fleur had joined Bronach in her vigil, glaring at the still waters with red-rimmed eyes, refusing to let Pomfrey do anything about the cuts that littered her body.
As Krum surfaced, head reappearing, Harry felt a swoop of relief as she saw Hermione with him. The two were quickly fished out of the water and wrapped in blankets, but Harry was watching Bronach, who had opened her eyes and picked up the rod that had been placed across her lap as she meditated.
Rising from her seated position, she raised the rod and spoke a series of words in one of her strange languages, slamming it hard into the ground. To Harry's amazement, the water parted, clearly dividing in a straight line to where Elladan waited bound to a pillar. It was as if everything living had been swept into the water, because Harry couldn't see a single fish or merfolk in the dry area, and she marveled at the power it must take to do something so complicated. Chanting softly, Bronach stepped off the bank, boots not even touching the mud of the lakebed, walking steadily towards the statue where Elladan was.
She had to squint as Bronach reached the statue, but Elladan must have been cut free, half collapsing onto Bronach, but the older girl seemed to be unaware of his weight as she lifted him and began her walk back to the lakeshore.
It should have been a comical sight, Bronach carrying Elladan's tall frame, but Harry couldn't find anything to laugh about. Elladan was still unconscious, if his lack of movements were any indication, and Bronach's face was stony. As soon as both of her feet were on the bank, the waters caved in, returning to their natural state, but Bronach was unfazed. The rod, which Harry now realized must be some sort of staff, was back in the harness, and Bronach didn't falter, her steps turning back towards the Tham Angol camp.
"All champions must stay for their scores!" Bagman shouted as she walked away, but Bronach didn't even acknowledge him. Harry was torn on whether or not to follow, but she stayed in place when Glorfindel caught her eye and shook his head almost imperceptibly. Hermione was shuffled away from Krum, and behind Thorin, Fili, and Kili, and to Harry's surprise, Luna had appeared as well.
The judges seemed to be conversing, based on the angry gesturing of Karkoff, and Dumbledore seemed to be speaking with a merfolk who had come up to the surface, screeching softly in a way that was very similar to the clue in the egg. After a while, the headmaster returned to the other judges, and they conversed for what seemed like an eternity before waving Bagman over.
He listened to them, nodding a few times, and then turned to face the crowd and declared: "For reaching her hostage first, and returning well within the time limit, Miss Potter receives forty-seven points. Mr. Diggory, forty-five, for returning not long after Miss Potter. Mr. Krum and his inventive use of transfiguration scores forty points, and Miss Delecour, despite not rescuing her hostage scores twenty-five points. Miss nos Arnor, for her blatant disregard for the task and judges, scores no points. The next task will be held on the twenty-fourth of June, with the champions receiving more information closer to that time."
Harry didn't bother to hear more, and neither did the Tham Angol delegation. Fili and Kili were shepherding her away, while Glorfindel was crossing the distance between them and the judges' table with long strides. Thorin brought up the rear, and Harry knew she probably should return to the school or something but she wanted to know how Elladan and Elrohir were.
"Who are you?" Thorin's gruff voice demanded, and she turned to see Fred and George approaching at a run, faces full of worry.
"They're my brothers," Ginny said as the twins skidded to a halt.
"We just want to make sure our sister is okay," George said, glaring at Thorin. "Where are you taking her?"
"Somewhere safer," Thorin grunted, looking as if he was going to plant himself and prevent the twins from following.
"Bronach would trust them," Glorfindel said, joining them. "We can bring them back with us. At least to the fire."
"Fine," Thorin said, looking displeased. "But only to the fire."
Fred and George slipped past Thorin, wrapping their arms around Ginny's shoulders as they resumed their walk. None of them spoke much, not at the pace they were moving, but soon they were at the Tham Angol camp.
Gimli was sitting on a stool outside the tent, a terrifyingly real looking ax in his hand as they approached. To Harry's surprise, she felt a prickly feeling wash over her skin as she reached the forge, on the outskirts of the camp, and the others seemed to feel it too. It was like the environmental magic that had surrounded the camp at Midwinter, but less friendly.
"All quiet here," Gimli said, glancing at Fred and George. "Who are they?"
"Her brothers," Glorfindel said, brushing past him into the tent. "How are they?"
"Haven't heard," Gimli said gruffly. "You lot might as well sit down," he said, gesturing at the benches surrounding the fire. "Might be a while before we're allowed in."
Translations:
Thuri Ruinil, daro: Daro translates to "stop" in Sindarin. Thuri is the name Bronach used among the Rangers in Steady is the Hand, and Ruinil is her epessë. Glorfindel is commanding her to stop here.
Ú-laeth di: roughly Sindarin for "I can't lose them"
Bronach, when "harsher and more gutteral", is using the Black Speech because she feels it most appropriate for her fury/state of mind.
Glorfindel, in return, speaks a word of power in Quenya.
