Chapter 37: Most Valuable Treasure

Harry was vaguely aware of the noises around him, voiced concerns of his friends telling him to breath, to relax, that things would be okay. Worded comfort that made him more tense, more anxious. He was aware of the questioning glances that took in the expression of his face as he walked by. Was aware of the cold that bite into his skin as he shed his jacket and pants, racing over to the pier where the other Champions were standing, balling the gillyweed Neville gave him like mush.

All of it was white noise, floating around his head that felt like he was at the bottom of that lake.

Where Draco was.

They got Draco. They took Draco.

Harry still couldn't believe he didn't put the pieces together sooner. Of course, they would take Draco, his best friend who was such a prat sometimes Harry wanted to punch him in the mouth, who could wrangle a smile out of Harry when he was annoyed with him, casting irritation to bygones.

The thing he would miss the most that was at the bottom of the lake.

Harry glanced down at the mucky water that looked greenish than clear blue and so dark, he could scarcely make out his reflection. What was being done to Draco right now? Was he held in some sort of cage, banging against the bars? Was he bobbing about with his ankles tied to some sort of block, smirking mermaids surrounding him, laughing as he struggled not to breathe even though his lungs were starving for air? Was his body simply floating around, hollow and cold?

Harry broke into violent shivering that Fleur looked at him, worry marred her face.

"Is all well, 'arry?"

Bagman then came over to give Harry's shoulder a quick squeeze and returned to the judges' table. He pointed to his throat as he had done at the World Cup, said, "Sonorous!" and his voice boomed out across the dark water towards the stands.

"Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One…two…three!"

The whistle echoed shrilly in the cold, still air; the stands erupted with cheers and applause; without looking to see what the other champions were doing, Harry pulled off his shoes and socks, stuffed the mashed gillyweed his shaky hands crushed into his mouth, and waded into the water.

It was so cold he felt the skin on his legs searing as though this were fire, not icy water. Still he forced himself to keep going, step after step. He chewed the gillyweed as hard and fast as he could; it tasted unpleasantly slimy and rubbery, like octopus tentacles. Waist-deep in the freezing water he stopped, swallowed, and waited.

Then suddenly, Harry felt as though an invisible pillow had been pressed over his mouth and nose. He tried to draw breath, but it made his head spin; his lungs were empty, and he suddenly felt a piercing pain on either side of his neck-

Harry clapped his hands around his throat and felt two large slits just below his ears, flapping in the cold air…He had gills. Without a second thought or hesitation, he did the only thing that made sense-he flung himself forward in the water.

The first gulp of icy lake water felt like the breath of life. His head stopped spinning; he took another great gulp of water and felt it pass smoothly through his gills, sending oxygen back to his brain. He stretched out his hands in front of him, studying them. They looked green and ghastly under the water, and they had become webbed. He twisted around and looked at his bare feet-they had become elongated and the toes were webbed too. It was as if he sprouted flippers.

The water didn't sting as it did before. It didn't even feel cold. It felt nice. He felt nice, pleasantly cool and very light. After one more glance at his webbed hands and flipper-like feet, Harry began to swim, moving so far and fast that he was soon approaching the depths of the lake.

Silence pressed upon him, deadly silence that matched the semi-darkness of the water with the only source of light coming from the sunshine above whose beam grew dimmer the deeper Harry swam. The waters held no plants or underwear creatures in sight, so he dove deeper and deeper until he came black seaweed tickling his legs as he passed by them. He swam further in, out toward the middle of the lake, his eyes wide, staring through the eerily gray-lit water to the shadows beyond, where the water became opaque.

Small fish flickered past him like silver darts. Few times he'd fear when he spotted something large ahead, fearing it to be a shark or the giant squid, only to discover it was a large, blackened log, or a dense clamp of weed. There was no sign of any of the champions, merpeople, or Draco.

Which meant that he wasn't being tortured as he thought. Harry clung onto that hope for dear life.

Just a bit further.

Light green weed stretched ahead of him as far as he could see, two feet deep, like a meadow of overgrown grass. Harry stared unblinkingly ahead, trying to discern shapes through the gloom. There had to be a spot somewhere. Some secret passageway. Or a hole. Or-

Wait, there!

A shape, a moving shape. This was much bigger than the small fish he had encountered before. No, this looked more the size of a small child.

He found his way. Now he just needed to find a way through the-

Harry let out a pained gasp as he felt small horned hands dig into his ankle. He twisted his body around and saw a grindylow, a small, horned water demon, clinging onto his foot, its long fingers deeply planted into his skin. He stuck his webbed hand quickly into his swimming trunks and fumbled for his wand. By the time he grabbed it, two more grindylows slipped out of the weed and seized his legs, trying to drag him down.

"Relashio!" Harry shouted, except no sound came out…A large bubble issued from his mouth, and his wand, instead of sending sparks at the grindylows, pelted them with what seemed to be a jet of boiling water, for where it struck them, angry red patches appeared on their green skin.

Harry yanked his ankle free and swam as fast as he could; occasionally turning back to send more jets of water in case they were tailing him. Once he reached a safe distance, he put away his wand and studied his surroundings.

It was so dark. It was no better here than it was in the beginning. There didn't seem to be anything but-

"How are you getting on?"

Heart leaping up to his throat, Harry whipped around and saw Moaning Myrtle floating hazily in front of him, gazing at him through her thick, pearly glasses.

"Myrtle!" Harry tried to shout-but once again, nothing came out but a large bubble. Moaning Myrtle giggled at him.

"You want to try over there!" she said, pointing. "I won't come with you…I don't like them very much, they always chase me when I get too close."

Harry gave her a thumbs-up to show his thanks and set off once more.

He swam for what felt like twenty minutes, maybe even longer. He was passing over vast expanses of black mud, which swirled murkily as he disturbed the water. Then, at long last, he heard a snatch of the song.

"An hour long you'll have to look,

And to recover what we took…"

Harry swam faster and soon saw a large rock emerge out of the muddy water ahead. It had paintings of merpeople on it, carrying spears, chasing what looked like the giant squid. Harry swam on past the rock, following the song.

"…your time's half gone, so tarry not

Lest what you seek stays here to rot…"

A cluster of crude stone dwellings stained with algae loomed suddenly out of the gloom on all sides. Here and there at the dark windows, Harry saw faces, faces that bore no resemblance at all to the painting of the beautiful mermaid in the prefects' bathroom.

The merpeople had grayish skin and long, wild, dark-green hair. Their eyes were yellow, as were their broken teeth, and they wore thick ropes of pebbles around their necks. They leered at Harry as he swam past; one or two of them emerged from their caves to watch him better, their powerful, silver fish tails beating the water, spears clutched in their hands.

Harry sped on, starting around, and soon the dwellings became more numerous; gardens of weed, rocks that were shaped like homes, and grindylows floating around, baring their teeth at him. More merpeople came out, flanked by his left and right, spears clutched in their hands, their mouths twisted into cold smiles as they lend their voices to the haunting song.

He swam straighter ahead, entering into what looked to be an underwater village, where more mermpeople came out to sing and smirk, where his eyes made out a statue that was dabbed in the center of the village; a gigantic merperson hewn from a boulder.

Harry froze as he came closer to the statue. Four people were bound tightly to the tail of the stone merperson.

Draco was tied between Hermione and Cho Chang. There was also a girl who looked no more than eight, whose clouds of silvery hair made Harry sure that she was Fleur's sister.

He quickly swam to Draco, his eyes examining him for any bruises, any cuts, any proof of the torture Harry's mind imagined. He didn't appear hurt. No bruises. But he looked pale, more than the usual light Malfoy complexion, severally, unnaturally pale. And he wasn't moving.

The last thing Harry had seen someone that pale, that still, she was bathed in her own blood, dark scarlet red that matched the shade of her hair.

Harry sucked in a deep breath and shook his head to clear the memories, slowly moving forward. He cupped Draco's face in his hand, his stomach churning at how clammy his skin felt, and placed the other on his neck, searching for a pulse.

Please, he begged. Please, please, please. If there was a pulse, he'd pretend that awful breakfast at the Yule Ball never happened. He'd forget how hurt he was when Draco scoffed at him, saying that kisses were silly and all the same. He'd forgot how much he was still hurting from that day, more so from Draco's words than Theo's announcement, and promise never be angry with him again.

Then, as if Merlin decided to show him mercy, his fingers picked up the faintest flutter beneath their touch. Harry could have cried right on the spot, not caring if there was an audience, if the merpeople gawked and laughed at him.

Biting his quivering lip, he glanced down at the ropes that there were keeping him and the others bound. The ropes were made of weed, thick and slimy and very strong. For a fleeting moment he thought about the knife Sirius gave him for Christmas that was resting in the drawer back in his room and cursed himself for not bringing it.

He looked around. Many of the merpeople were carrying spears. He swam swiftly towards a seven-foot-tall merman with a long green beard and a choker of shark teeth hanging from his neck, trying to mime a request to borrow the spear. The merman laughed and shook his head.

"We do not help," he said in a harsh, croaky voice.

"Come ON!" Harry said fiercely, only producing more bubbles. He tried to pull the spear away from the merman, but the merman yanked it back, still shaking his head, still laughing.

Harry swirled around, eyes darting over the area. Something sharp…something sharp…he needed something sharp. Something that would cut the ropes easily like a spear. Something like-

The rocks! He dived to the bottom and snatched up a particularly jagged one that resembled a blackish knife and returned to the statue. He began to hack the ropes binding Draco, and after several minutes of cutting, they broke apart. Draco floated, unconscious, a few inches above the lake bottom, drifting a little in the ebb of the water.

Harry looked around. There was no sign of any of the other champions. Where the hell were they? Why didn't they hurry up?

He glanced back at the hostages that were still tied to the statue, still unconscious. Hermione's hair spread around her head like seaweed. He couldn't leave her behind. He swam over to her, raised the jagged rock, and began to hack at her bindings too-

At once, several pairs of strong gray hands seized him. Half a dozen merman were pulling him away from Hermione, shaking their green-haired heads, and laughing.

"You take your own hostage," one of them said. "Leave the others…"

"No way!" said Harry furiously-but only two large bubbles came out.

"Your task is to retrieve your friend…leave the others…"

"She's my friend too!" Harry yelled, gesturing towards Hermione.

"Let him take her. I want this one instead." He whirled around, heart throbbing painfully in his chest, as he came across Draco enveloped in the arms of a merwoman who looked a few years older than him, her green hair so dark it appeared black. She looked the least terrifying of the bunch, almost pretty, until she looked down at Draco, eyes hungry. The skin around her face tightened until veins were popping out, dark blue. "He looks delicious."

Red swept across Harry's vision like a cloak. "Get the hell away from him!" He fired his wand at her, proud to see that the jet of water knocked her all the way back, far from sight and the painful shriek that came along with the hit.

The moment of triumph only lasted for a second before arms seized him, pulling Harry back. He tried to break free but the merpeople were stronger than they looked.

One of them, the same merman he tried getting the spear, stood in front, studying Harry like he wasn't sure which place he wanted to strike first. But then, he looked up, his eyes widening. One by one, they all looked up, pointing. Harry stole a glance, spotting Cedric swimming toward them. There was an enormous bubble around his head, which made his features look oddly wide and stretched.

"Got lost." he mouthed, looking panic-stricken. "Fleur and Krum're coming now!"

Relieving melting in his body, Harry watched Cedric pull a knife out of his pocket and cut Cho free. He pulled her upward and out of sight.

He looked around, waiting. Where were Fleur and Krum? Time was getting too short, and according to the song, the hostages would be lost after an hour…

The mermpeople started screeching animatedly. Those holding Harry loosened their grip, staring behind them. Harry turned around and saw something cutting through the water, barreling toward him. It was a shark, or at least the head of a shark attached to a human body in black swimming trunks.

Harry realized with a start that it was Krum. He must have used a transfiguration spell-and from the looks of it didn't have the best of luck with it.

Krum swam to Hermione and began snapping and biting the ropes. The problem was Krum's new teeth were positioned very awkwardly and duller than the teeth of a newborn. He wasn't getting anywhere with the rope.

Darting forward, reeling Draco along with him, Harry hit Krum hard on the shoulder and held up the jagged stone. Krum took it and began to cut Hermione free. Within seconds, the ropes were cut, Hermione was free, and Krum took her back to the surface.

Three down. Harry stole a glance at the little girl that was still tied. One more to go. Fleur was coming, she had to be. Yet seconds were running by and still no sign of her.

To hell with it. He snatched the rock Victor left behind and headed over to her, but the merman surrounded him, shaking his head. Harry pulled out his wand.

"Get out of the way!"

Bubbles flew from his mouth but Harry understood from the fear of their eyes and remembrance of what happened to the mermaid, they understand they were dealing with a threat. They lowered their spears, slowly backing away. Keeping a hold of Draco, Harry broke the ropes and secured an arm around her waist, kicking himself to the surface.

It was a slow, hard process. Harry couldn't use his webbed hands to push himself faster; his flippers were working on overtime, kicking as hard as they could, already aching. His rescued captives weren't helpings things either. Fleur's sister was a light little girl and Draco wasn't that heavy, but they dragged like sacks of potatoes in the water.

Just a bit longer, he told himself. Just a bit longer.

Harry's legs were seizing up with the effort to keep swimming; his shoulders were aching horribly with the effort of holding onto Draco and the girl…

Breathing was suddenly turning into a difficulty, each draw of breath sending a sharp pain to his chest. He could feel pain on the sides of his neck again…he was becoming aware of how wet the water was in his mouth…yet the darkness was thinning now…he could see daylight above him…

He kicked hard with his flippers and discovered that they were nothing more than feet…water was flooding through his mouth into his lungs...he was starting to feel dizzy, but he knew light and air were close by….just a few feet away.

He just had to keep swimming. He had to keep going. He needed to-

Pain, intense and swift, bit into his ankle. Biting his lip to hold in a pained gasp, he looked down. The mermaid who had Draco wrapped in her arms dug her clawed, webbed hand into his ankle, breaking apart skin, causing crimson to leak into the water.

"That hurt!" she growled, tightening her hold.

Damn it! He tried to shake off her hold but she refused to let him go, dragging him down. Panicking, Harry brought Draco and the girl together, casting an air-bubble around them with his wand, and sent them up.

Thank Merlin, he thought. The mermaid used that off-guard moment to her advantage, bringing him down. He tried to move but his body hurt too much, aching from the spell, from the swimming. His brain felt waterlogged, he couldn't breathe, he needed oxygen, he had to keep going.

He glanced at the mermaid, whose face looked like it was belonged to a sea-demon. He was always taught never to strike a woman, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

He lifted his free foot up high and brought it down as hard as he could, making sure to land at a good spot. Shrieking, she released her hold, hands flying to her face. Harry wasted no time taking out his wand and firing it up to the sky.

"Ascendio!" he screamed, choking at the rush of water pouring into his mouth.

As if rocket jets were strapped to his feet, Harry was zooming through the air like a torpedo, going higher and higher until air slammed into his lungs as he broke through the water only to get knocked right out as he landed on his stomach on something hard and solid.

It took a long minute for the pain aching in his chest to fade away; for the sound blaring in his head to change from ringing to cheering and applauding. People were up on their feet, screaming excitedly. Harry slowly pulled himself off the ground and was immediately swarmed. His friends congratulating him, Seamus throwing a towel over him and drying him off, Hermione hugging him with a sullen Victor standing by.

"Draco," he croaked over the madness. "Where's-"

Ron jerked his head towards Fleur's sister shivering in her blanket. "Why did you bring her for?"

"Fleur didn't turn up. I couldn't leave her," Harry panted, eyes scanning for Draco.

"Come on, Harry," Ron said. "I doubt that they would seriously let the hostages stay down there-"

Ron was cut off as Fleur fought her way through the crowd to get over to them, knocking the boy aside and throwing herself at Harry, squeezing him tight. Drips of her hot tears fell onto his lips.

"You saved 'er," she said breathlessly. "Even though she was not your 'ostage."

"Yea." Harry said, weakly, trying to get his breathing down.

Fleur kissed him twice on both cheeks, thanking him over and over again. Harry accepted the thanks with half-hearted nods, eyes scanning around the pier for platinum blond. Draco had to be there. Fleur's sister was and he used the air bubble to send them both up.

Where is he?

"MY FATHER WILL HEAR ABOUT THIS!"

Harry never thought he never loved those words more than he did right then. Eyes stinging, he turned his head over to the source of the outraged cry. Draco, alive, conscious, his hair a wet mop, clothes drenched, draped in a towel with Pansy patting him down to warm him up more, carried the look of hellfire fury in his eyes and Harry swore he never saw a more wondrous sight.

Even if the wondrous sight looked like he wanted to burn them all.

Close to an hour later with the performances scored and information on the next task delivered, Draco was still fuming over the lake ordeal, listing over twenty ways uncle Lucius would take the school apart, how savagely butchered Dumbledore's and Moody's and everyone on the judging panel reputations would be after he was through with them.

"They're going to pay to have my clothes cleaned and pressed! They're going to pay to have my skin exfoliated! They're going to pay for my hair!"

Harry walked into their room slowly, every muscle in his body aching madly to the point of numbness. He was so exhausted, he just wanted to fall into his bed and sleep for the rest of the semester.

"When I get my hands on that lemon drop-obsessed, Grandfather time, fortune cookie-spouting miserable goat, I'm going to skin him alive and use the scrapes to wrap Moody's corpse in and then feed it to the lake."

It was funny how Draco was okay, according to Madame Pomfey overexcited yet okay, but still Harry's mind couldn't let go the image of what he saw in the water. Draco just bobbling around, so pale like an empty shell.

"And you! How is it, Potter, every single fucking time danger's thrown your way, I end up getting dragged into it. First there was that sputtering imbecile, then it was the basilisk, mad dogs and rats last year, and now this. I swear to God, it's like you're determined not to see me live to twenty!

His bed was only a few steps away but the step felt too heavy. He settled himself on the ground, leaning against his trunk, drawing up his knees and wrapping him arms around them.

"I should have known my life would constantly be in danger after the bike incident-which my poor heart is still recovering from, thank you very much."

Harry didn't think it was possible for skin to be that white, to be so pale. Actually, he did. He witnessed it. One second she was there, smiling at him with tears in her eyes, telling him to be save. The next she was on the ground, streams of red as bright as her hair pooled around her body, skin paler than snow like the fairytale princess. He tried bringing her back, holding her hand tight, trying to feel something. Unlike then, all he felt was cold skin.

"Harry?" Draco's rants came to a halt, his fury storm vanishing as his tone softened. "Harry?"

He tried to speak but he couldn't. It was like his mouth was filled with dry cement, his lips glued shut. He tried breathing and even that was a challenge.

"Harry?" Draco walked to him, crouching down."Harry, you're scaring me."

He huddled his body tighter, trying to feel warm again.

"Harry." A hand placed itself under his chin and lifted it up, forcing up to look into Draco's eyes that were wiped clean of any trace of anger, completely immersed with concern. "Talk to me."

The funny thing was, he didn't want to talk. He wanted answers to the questions flooding into his mind. Was this how Draco felt when Voldemort's ashes flew through Harry first year before he collapsed? How he felt like last year watching Harry flew from his broom during the Quidditch match? Like his heart was a butterfly flying wildly in a sealed jar, trying to escape. Like everything was coiled up into springs so tight, he could barely remember his body ever feeling relaxed.

He launched himself into Draco's arms, nearly knocking him back, and hold onto him tight, burying his face in the nape of Draco's neck. Draco was frozen stiff as a stature, then quickly returned the embrace, drawing small circles against his back.

"I'm sorry," Harry murmured. "For everything."

Draco drew in a quiet breath but said nothing else.

"You know why you were down there, right? In the lake?"

"Yes, because I sadly hadn't realized that when a twinkling-eyed goat offers you tea, it's bound to bite you in the arse. And turn you into a drenched cat."

Harry shook his head, his face still pressed against Draco's chest. "It's because of me."

"Obviously."

He shook his head again. "No, I mean, you were there because…because you're the most important thing to me. You're what I'd miss the most if you were gone. Forever."

Silence met his words, pulsing with shock.

"When-when I found out you were taken, my heart stopped right then. And when I found you underwater, you looked so pale, you were so still, and I thought-and I thought..." Harry shuddered and pressed himself more into Draco, holding him tight.

Draco shifted his body till he was more comfortable. He ran his hand through Harry's hair, playing with the untamed curls, soothing his nerves with his gentle touch. "Do you remember the clause you added to our contract?"

Puzzled, Harry tilted his head back, looking up at him. "What clause?"

"First year, when I was upset over what Granger said. I didn't tell you yet about what she said since I was still too scared. You hugged me, sang to me, and said you'd never leave me," A soft smile curled his pink mouth. "Well, I think it's time to make clear that the clause applies for both parties. You'll never leave me and I'll never leave you."

Harry stared at him. Draco leaned in and pressed a kiss so softly on his forehead, Harry could scarcely feel it. As Draco pulled back, a flicker of warmth coiled, burning so hot, it was ice-cold. A flicker that slipped into his heart through one of the cracks and spread like cancer, filling him up with the feeling, drowning him in it. Feelings-unflinching, unconditional care, fierce and overwhelming protectiveness, and that pull, that connection that's always been there between them through laughter, through pain, through fun, through anger, through happiness.

Looking at Draco, Harry finally understood why. Why it hurt so much, he felt physically sick when he found out that Draco was with Pansy. Why his heart felt like Draco crucio'ed it when he said kisses were all the same and irrelevant. Why that night of the Yule Ball Harry almost let go them further than ever before because it felt too good. Why everything, every hug, every touch, every kiss felt so right. Why no matter how many times they'd cut each other down with words, with actions, no matter how furious they were with each other, they always came back together.

I love him.