AN: Thank you to everyone who is reviewing!

p.s. Remember that Barty Crouch Jr. dead body was found, again, but this time at Moody's residence.

Chapter 9 - Water, Wind, and Fire

"Fred!" George yelled, "Fred! Has anyone seen Fred!?"

He was panicking. For the first time in his life, he didn't know where his twin was. He hadn't come back last night.

Fred always came back.

The second task was starting and people were streaming to the stands.

George was eventually pulled aside by McGonagall who assured him Fred was alright. She didn't tell him where his twin was, but as they waited on the floating stands over the lake, he thought he knew.

Fred was in the lake.

George was too worried about his brother to even cheer Harry on. Harry, who was about to trust Professor Snape's potion ingredients that he had graciously, and uncharacteristically, given to him. Gillyweed, an idea that Neville Longbottom had shared with him from his plant book.

People laughed at Harry as he stood in the water waiting for the plant to work its magic.

Delacour had used a bubble head charm and Krum had somehow managed to transform himself into a merman. Although, unlike the people in their textbooks, he looked a bit more human. His skin had gone grey, his hair dark green, but his face still looked like his own, and his tail was a lot stocker than a true merperson's tail.

"They took hostages," someone whispered.

George turned on the seventh year Ravenclaw boy. "What did you say?" he demanded, his heart racing at having his suspicions confirmed.

"They took people they love down there."

"Who?" George snarled, having a sinking feeling in his gut.

"Hermione Granger, the Veela girl's sister, and your-"

George had already turned back to face the water before he finished. He had half a mind to go in there himself.

They had taken his brother. His better half, they had taken him for this stupid game. And if the first task had proven anything, the threats were very real.

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.

George spent the next hour hardly breathing. Five minutes, fifteen, thirty, and at forty-five two heads broke the surface.

Viktor and Hermione. Viktor, who looked human again, and Hermione was laughing.

George didn't think there was anything funny about being forced to the bottom of the lake.

The next to break the surface was Fleur. She didn't look like she was having fun. In fact, she looked like she was barely staying afloat.

He waited for a count of ten for someone to go help her. No one did.

Cursing, George slipped off his shoes and socks, took his over-robe off and plunged into the icy water. He was done sitting on the sidelines, he had to do something.

He was a decent swimmer and he reached the silver haired woman in little time. She clung to him the moment her flailing hand met his outstretched arm.

"Ma sœur! Ma sœur," she gasped, "They took my sister."

George could barely make out what she was saying, her teeth were chattering uncontrollably. Fleur was lovely, but not his type. Especially now, there was no allure as his heart broke for her honest terror. He was extremely concerned with her blue lips and her trembling limbs as he helped her make it back to the docks.

She felt so cold in his arms, weak even.

By the time George got her back to the stands, as they were closer to the stands than the champion dock. A dark haired man with sea blue-green eyes jumped into the water, after pulling away from Madame Maxime. The man was at George's side in a moment, lifting the nearly unconscious girl from his arms.

The man's grace climbed back onto the dock with the girl in his arms and made George a little jealous. His admiration of the man only as he turned to the judges and started cursing at them all in French.

Apparently, he was Fleur's father. He flicked his wand at her, a drying and warming charm probably.

Fleur came back to herself in ten minutes, she began to struggle against her father's hold. But he wouldn't let her go back into the water, whispering to her French.

The judges were starting to look worried.

It was nothing to how George felt, as he stayed in the bone chilling water, waiting, and waiting, for Harry and his brother to emerge. It was five past an hour now. Ten past. Fifteen.

And then, three heads disturbed the waves.

"Fred!" George shouted.

A hand waved at him. And George swam out to them.

"Were you worried, dummy?" Fred asked.

George shoved his brother's head underwater, when he came back up, he snarled, "I'd like to see what you do if I went missing one night and get put into this-"

"George," Harry chided him.

George paused and looked at Harry and the little girl with him. She didn't look much better than Fleur had. If anything she looked more afraid and confused.

Fleur Delacour had looked more furious, as opposed to confused.

George was surprised as Harry expertatly cast a warming charm over Fleur's sister. The girl relaxed almost instantly as she clung to Harry's neck.

On their way swimming back to the docks, Harry passed the girl to her father who had jumped back into the water to meet them halfway.

"I'm sorry," Fred said softly, "If I had known what they were going to ask I would have told you where I was going."

"Next time," George said, not so softly, "Tell them no."

Harry was enraged by the second task. What a stupid, dangerous idea.

He hadn't realized last time how distressed Fleur's sister had been, how cold she had been.

He was about ready to pull a Mauaradur on any and every dunderhead who thought to mix a Veela -a creature of fire with cold water. It wasn't like they couldn't be in the water, but now that he was true friends with Fleur, she had confided in him that in high stress circumstances it was harder to use their magic in large bodies of water. They had charmed her a body swimming suit for today, but it hadn't appeared to be enough.

Harry didn't know how Gabraille had been allowed to be the bait again as Harry had warned Fleur they might try for her sister. He still remembered how distressed she had been as Harry. Like him, he hadn't believed the hour time limit had been an idle warning.

He was exhausted this time around, as it seemed there were even more obstacles in the lake than there had been the first time around.

Fleur offered him a hand, he took the help out of the water. He couldn't quite describe her expression. Her sapphire eyes looked too large for her face, her silver hair blew around her face, and at that moment Harry decided she was the most beautiful person he had ever met, or ever would meet, inside and out.

She was elemental.

After a moment of looking him over, and judging him unharmed, she pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Merci beaucoup, 'Arry," she whispered into his ear.

He hugged her back, and it was nice to be held.

He hadn't had physical contact like this with anyone since returning in the past, and he realized then how touch starved he was to be this affected by a mere embrace.

Even if the woman hugging him was Fleur Delacour.

When she pulled back, Harry had to fight himself not to pull her back to him. What he wouldn't give to be himself again, to not be a boy, a child in her eyes.

Although, apparently, Fleur's thoughts weren't so far from her own, because she placed her hands on his neck, her palms cupping his jaw, her fingers tangled in the wet strands of hair at his nape. His heart about stopped when she looked to him for consent, to shocked to really respond in that moment, she counted his lack of pulling away as a go ahead. Still, she gave him ample time to say no as she leaned forward to kiss.

Harry closed the distance between them, her lips were warm and soft on his own.

The world fell away, his worries falling lifeless at their feet as Fleur lifted him toward the stars.

When she pulled back, all he could think of was how he might get her alone to continue this activity. He blushed at his own inappropriate thoughts.

She smirked at him.

"You are most welcome at our home, mon fils," a man said with a discernible, but not overpowering, French accent.

Harry looked around and thought that if he wasn't still soaked in cold lake water he would have been flushed.

Fleur grinned, "Papa, this is Harry Potter, Harry this is mon père, Émeric Delacour."

"Nice to meet you, Sir," Harry said on autopilot. More embarrassed now than anything that his first kiss with Fleur had been in front of her father.

Émeric Delacour gave him a slight nod and slight uptilt of lips. "You are welcome in our home, Monsieur Potter."

Harry realized that Fleur hadn't just received her good looks from her mother's side. His long hair was dark brown, almost as black as Harry's, his eyes were a startling sea-blue, he was tall, and well built. Harry doubted it would have taken this man long to swim to the bottom of the lake if he had been able to breathe underwater.

"Harry, you did really well."

He turned to Hermione, who had spoken, and who looked warm and dry with Victor's arm around her shoulders. It Seemed Viktor was clean sweeping this Tournament, having in his first task performed the same stunt Harry had attempted without flying a dragon. Of course, too far more success than Harry had or Viktor had had in the last time around.

"Thanks," he said. He shivered the cold was creeping back in.

Fleur raised her left hand at him, and suddenly he felt like he was under a blow drying. The flame at her palm emitting heat like a furnace.

He leaned toward her like leaves toward the sun. He could have used another warming and drying charms on himself, but feeling the press of Fleur's personal fire magic was much preferred.

Fleur's sister ran at him out of nowhere. She was dry now, and despite still being a little too pale, she seemed to be bursting with energy. Gabrielle was smiling and talking in such rapid French he doubted he would have understood her even if he knew the language.

He put a hand on her back and said, "Sorry, I don't speak French."

"We will fix that," Mr. Delacour said.

"Merci for saving me," Gabrielle said with a thick accent that sounded somehow musical.

Fleur introduced them, "Harry, Gabrielle. Gabrielle, Harry."

"Nice to meet you, Miss Gabrielle," again, he said with a smile.

She smiled back, her eyes twinkling, a much paler blue than her sister's. She began talking animatedly in French again.

Mr. Delacour laughed, and Fleur's cheeks went pink.

Harry didn't know what Gabrielle had said and he didn't ask, but he was glad it wasn't him becoming flustered, for once.

The scores were given and Viktor, unsurprisingly, was in the lead. He received the full fifty points as he had for the first task. Harry received twenty-five in addition to his twenty points, and Fleur received twenty-five in addition to her forty-five. A hundred points, seventy points, and in the last place, Harry with fifty-five points.

Harry didn't care, he was happy to be alive with Fleur, Fred, and Gabrielle safe.

Fleur had other ideas. She turned on the judges with flame smouldering at her sides where her fists were clenched. He had never seen her magic manifest itself before.

Her voice was contained fire, crackling at the edges, "Harry deserves more than lousy twenty-five points. He rescued two hostages and would have been back in time without waiting for me to rescue my sister."

Karkaroff sneered at her, "His own idiocy. We wouldn't have let the girl come to harm."

Mr. Delacour stepped in then, "My daughters have Veela blood in their veins, you cannot put them under a lake without causing them harm. You did not ask my permission to take my youngest child into such danger. She is not even in school yet, she could not have appropriately consented to this task."

"The tasks were arranged last year, we can't change them because of who was selected by the Goblet. Either your daughter is strong enough to overcome her birth or she simply isn't equal. And perhaps it is you who should learn how to control your offspring," Karkaroff went on.

Harry wasn't sure what compelled him, he really shouldn't have done it, after all, Mr. Delacour and Fleur had been able to hold their tempers. But Harry's control wasn't all that great of late, and when he felt his power rise, he reached for it.

Without raising his wand he felt his magic lash out, those closest to him, the Delacours, the twins, and Hermione just had their hair whipped about them, but the gust of wind grew as it pushed further out, Viktor whose hair was trimmed, just a braced a bit at the gust of wind. However, when the gust hit the judges it pushed them and their table splashing into the lake.

Karkaroff, Maxime, Dumbledore, Bagman, and Percy went tumbling into the ice cold water. They came up flailing, well except for Maxime who emerged from the waves as one would from a swimming pool, calm and collected.

Karkaroff was cursing in his native tongue. His heavy robes seemed to be dragging him down so that he kept bobbing in and out of the water gasping between exclamations.

Dumbledore looked less than elegant, though not as distressed as Karkaroff. His legs seemed to have become tangled in his robes because he was using his arms to keep himself afloat. Maxime came around to him, putting an arm around his torso and swam them both back to shore.

Madame Pomfrey immediately started fretting over Dumbledore, apparently old age and shocks of cold water weren't a great mix.

As for Percy and Bagman, they floundered, too proud to ask for help but such poor swimmers that it took them the longest to get back on the dock.

"Sorry," Harry called out, not sounding at all apologetically.

Fred and George were bent double laughing. Percy glared at them all like a cat who had just received a surprise and a very unwelcome bath.

"Harry," Hermione to a later chapter

Fleur kissed his cheek and hugged him, Gabrielle who was still hugging his waist looked up at him with adoring eyes, as if he had just become her personal hero.

Which, to be fair, he sort of was.

Mrs. Delacour winked at him, her approval as clear as her husband's.

The judges, however, were none too pleased with Harry.

Maxime seemed a bit ambivalent, waving her wand over herself to dry off. Dumbledore was a bit out of sorts yet defended Harry when Karkaroff started threatening to deduct points. The Durmstrang Headmaster had lost his furred hat, boots, and outer robes in the lake. He tried to summon them but a few of the merpeople had snatched them away into the depths.

In the end, Harry received no punishment because it was well known that he was dealing with the side effects of repressed magic and there was no way to prove he had done it on purpose. Harry wasn't even positive that he had done it on purpose, he had wanted to do something, but not necessarily blowing them into the water.

Fleur and Gabrielle went out to eat with their father in Hogsmeade, which McGonagall allowed him to accompany them. It turned into somewhat of a party once Arthur, Bill, Charlie, Percy, the twins, Viktor, and Hermione joined them.

The Hogwarts' students were not happy about being in last place because of Harry's supposed misplaced heroics, but even the Slytherins thought it was good fun that he had dunked the judges in the lake.

It was, for the first time that Harry could remember since Neville's boggart, that the professors were subjected to whispers, and secret laughs, from the majority of the school. Even some of the other professors seemed to be amused. One day he caught Flitwick and McGonagall grinning at him as he passed, humour dancing in their eyes after a soft remark exchanged between them.

It was a harmless enough act, and yet spectacular enough that both friends and foes of Albus Dumbledore appeared to be united.

Dumbledore being Dumbledore, took all the attention with a smile and a twinkle in his eyes.

Maxime acted as if nothing had happened and as for Karkaroff, Harry didn't exactly go out of his way to be near the man, but he didn't fear the man's temper.

Compared to the war, it was all such light drama that Harry didn't care.

Everything had been going so well for Harry of late, it should have been a warning.

Before he could even make it to the great hall that morning, Fleur caught up with him. She greeted him first with a kiss and then with an apology.

He put his hands on her shoulders, "Fleur, English, slow down, and tell me what on Earth you have to be sorry for."

"The papers," she said, looking more worried than she had before facing a dragon.

"What about the papers? I got all of my essays in on time," Harry jested.

She shook her head, her hair fanning out around her, "No, Arry, the newspapers. We are in the newspapers, and it's bad."

Harry sighed, "Do you have a copy? Let's see what rubbish they cooked up this time."

HARRY POTTER SEDUCED AND BETRAYED INTO GIVING AWAY HIS VICTORY FOR HOGWARTS

Harry Potter, Hogwarts Champion in the Triwizard Tournament, is the youngest champion of the three. Mr. Potter's best friend, Miss Hermione Granger, fell prey to the bad-boy wilds of one Viktor Krum, Durmstrang Champion, who is currently leading in the tournament.

Is he taking advantage of this young, innocent girl to undermine Mr. Potter? Or is this young 'friend' a young vixen, attempting to use her affair with Krum in hopes to get back at Mr. Potter for advancing faster than her?

Ms. Parkinson, a fellow fourth year, "She's really quite ugly, no one would willingly date her unless they had other motives. And Granger is only top of the year because she tears down and sabotages everyone around her. Really, it is quite awful to share classes with such an ill-mannered muggleborn. Poor Potter never made any real friends."

Tragically, Mr. Potter's luck with relationships seems to be just as doomed in his love life.

Miss Fleur Delacour, Beauxbaton Champion has used her Veela powers to entrance our young hero into thinking he is in love and loved in return.

Why? We must ask ourselves, are the only two foreigners dating the Hogwarts' champion and his best friend? Why are they dating the competition?

Their motives may seem obvious to some; blatant trickery to win by any means.

For those who doubt this, let's lay out the evidence, shall we. To begin with, both Mr. Potter and Miss Granger are far younger than either Miss Delacour and Mr. Krum respectively. Then there is the small yet relative fact that Miss Granger with her unkempt grooming habits and Mr. Potter with his numerous scars are not particularly attractive young people. Even if one were to dismiss the undesirability of either Hogwarts student, there is the matter of the tasks themselves.

Miss Delacour was able to connect with the dragon on a base level, being that they are both fire magical creatures. She received higher marks than Mr. Potter who met his dragon when it was most enraged. Could the dragon's temper have been Miss Delacour stoking the flames? Could someone be responsible for the weakened dragon chain?

Could Mr. Krum have been involved as well? His own dragon encounter -in hindsight, appears astoundingly easy. Did he really send a dragon to sleep with one shot on his own? Could he have roped the clever-head-of-her-year-Granger into helping him cheat while her 'best friend' was nearly toasted?

Certainly a possibility that should be further examined.

But our most compelling evidence to call foul play is the second task. Where again, Mr. Krum seemed to pass without difficulty. And as for Miss Delacour… Mr. Potter lost twenty out of fifty points, putting him in last place in order to save, Gabrielle Delacour, Fleur Delacour's younger sister. If it isn't apparent that Fleur Delacour seduced Mr. Potter into doing the dirty work for her and ruining his slim chances at winning the Triwizard Cup for Hogwarts…

Harry snapped his fingers letting the paper burst into flame, a trick Fleur herself had taught him. Though she didn't need a spell to summon fire.

"Hey!" Fleur exclaimed, "Merde, Arry, why-?"

"Because it's rubbish, Fleur. Do you think I care what a bunch of strangers think of us?"

"But people are already angry-"

He cut her off, "Then let them be angry."

"Arry, you-"

"Don't you dare say I don't understand. That article was cruelly written, to all of us, and it was filled with more fabrications than any decent newspaper should ever publish. But that's beside the point. People have been making stuff up about since before I knew magic was real. You should have heard the things people said in my second year when everyone believed I was the Heir to Slytherin because I could speak Parseltongue."

"Mais, the entire school is against us." She looked at him as if searching for some hidden hurt.

He clasped her hands in his, "It's going to be alright. New rumours always start up and people will forget this nonsense soon enough."

She squeezed his hands and they weren't a couple yet, not exactly. But after the Weasleys and her family had departed for the night, Harry and Fleur had made a little detour to snog some more before retiring for the night.

He wasn't sure about keeping his secrets from someone he wanted to date, but considering all the shite he had been through, he wasn't about to poke holes in the happiness that found him.

Besides, there was every likelihood that she might get bored with him.

They entered the hall hand and hand. Almost all of the Hogwarts students were glaring at Fleur.

But it seemed now that she had Harry's support, no nasty look, no snide comment could touch her. She raised her chin and observed the world around her imperiously like she was an empress of ice, rather than the free-spirited with a heart of fire who Harry had come to know.

With her at his side, he felt confident too, and not because she was so amazing, intelligent, talented, and beautiful but because he was the one at her side.

The moment they sat down at the Gryffindor table the twins started in on them, loudly.

"Oh Fred! It's the seductress and her lamb!"

"Poor, little lamb, Potter," George said mournfully. "His heart ripped out of him before he even had a chance to live. All his prospects laid to ruin!"

"Stay strong, 'Arry," Fred fretted, "You can break free of her, just stay strong! I'm sure there is someone suitably undesirable to put your broken, shatter, shrivelled, crippled, betrayed, lonely, abandoned heart back together."

Harry just levelled the with a look.

Which got them sniggering until Hermione approached the table.

"Oh 'Mione!" the twins cried in unison, switching to her, "How can we free you from the wilds of that bad boy?"

"Oh do shut it," Hermione snapped as she and Viktor sat down beside Harry.

The twins broke down into hapless laughter.

Fleur, Harry, Hermione, and Viktor rolled their eyes in unison.

He was settling into his routine with his new friends and classes and for once in his life, he felt as if he could just be a kid.

Even if he willingly chose to hang out with Snape after dinner some nights.

Something that no one caught on to because he 'nightly walks around the school to burn off energy' had been taken at face value. Sometimes he did take walks, sometimes he hung out with Hedwig gazing at the stars, but most nights, he enjoyed tea and finished his extra reading on Snape's couch each night.

He had pulled back a little from Fleur when she started discussing their backgrounds. It was hard to lie to her because he knew she deserved more than that.

Harry knew he should be more worried than he was, but with Snape in the know, Snape who was at the heart of all who Harry trusted to listen to him… well, his largest fears were being taken care of by this adult.

But it was on a night he was at the owlery, writing to Sirius that Ron found him.

For a long moment, neither of them said anything, until Hedwig nipped his finger, telling him to finish his task.

He turned back to his familiar, tying the letter for Sirius to her leg.

When he turned back to Ron, Ron blurted, "After you faced the dragon, I didn't know what to do."

He flushed scarlet, "I mean, being your friend, we've done some pretty crazy things, but you've changed. I mean you've changed a lot, a lot since last year. When you skipped out on us for the Quidditch World cup, I thought… I thought you were really hurt. And when you were okay, but didn't reach out to us or even bother to explain… that hurt. When you didn't tell me about Peeves… I just felt like you don't trust me anymore, like you were so above us all, no, that's not right, it was like… like you weren't you anymore. Hermione loved it that you wanted to study all the time but you were so quiet. I didn't know what was going on and I felt like I had already lost you as a friend."

"I'm sorry, Ron, I didn't mean for you to think I didn't care."

"Do you?" He asked, "Care I mean? Because it was Fred, one of my older brothers they took into the lake, not me. You haven't even tried to talk to me, you haven't noticed me for months."

Harry was quiet for a long moment, trying to find the right words. Finally, he said. "Ron, you are always going to be one of my best friends, no matter what happens. I've just… a lot has happened, things I don't fully understand, nor even know how to put into words."

"You died when Dumbledore broke your shield with the dragon," Ron said seriously. "I saw your face, your eyes were empty, George and Fred were holding me back, but Harry I thought you were dead. I've never been so scared. Not with the spiders or when Sirius dragged me into that hole or when Remus turned into a werewolf. I have never been so afraid then to see you lying there, parts of you burned away, your face bleeding and your eyes empty. I've never been so afraid."

"I'm sorry," was the only thing he could think to say.

"Want to know what the worst part is?" Ron questioned.

Harry waited.

Ron continued, "I realized it's always going to be like that with you. Someone is always going to be trying to kill you and you have the most absurd luck. I thought, maybe it's good we weren't as close because Harry, I don't know what I'd do if you ever died for real. You're my best friend."

Harry smiled sadly, "I'm sorry.

Ron pulled him into a sudden hug, "Shut up, idiot. I'm the one who's supposed to be sorry."

Harry hugged him back, a piece of his world resettling. He had been right, Ron always came back, and no matter what, they would always be friends.

AN: Please review if you are enjoying?