A/N: Sorry for the delay, I know you were getting the lynch mob organized and hope there's time to call it off.

Several people commented about the age of the couple and the assumption they are planning on having sex. A couple points in response: First, the bond is maturing them, so add about a year to their physical age. Second, it was never said sex was next, just the next step in their relationship. Yes, sex and completing the bond is coming, but not for a bit. This said, I will be warning you of the naughty sections. They'll be noted before and after so you can skip if you want to as you can enjoy the story without them.

28 Recovery and Defiance

Pain was the first thing that broke into Harry's consciousness. Pain like no other. He'd felt pain before, many times and in many ways. He'd felt the pain of being beaten, for his uncle had ensured he and that pain were old friends. He'd felt the pain of broken bones, both before Hogwarts and since. The most remarkable broken bones were second year, before that lying, no good, sanctimonious, ponce Lockheart had vanished them. That in fact, had led to the introduction of a new pain, the pain of regrowing bone.

The problem with the old pains was they were localized. Oh, they may be across an area, like the whole of his back after one of Uncle Vernon's 'lessons' but it was always in one or two areas. This new pain was different. This pain had no end.

He could feel his toes. He knew that he had a hole in his sheet because his right pinky toe was in it and making the pain more. He honestly couldn't say worse, for he wasn't sure if there was a worse pain in existence, and did not wish to tempt fate to show him otherwise. His left knee was bigger than his right, he could tell that just from the pain his skin reported. His left hand was resting palm down and only three of his four fingers on that hand actually contacted the bed, the fourth was just shy of contact, but enough to avoid the pain.

Something shifted on this right arm, causing him to groan. As the lightning storm where whatever had moved subsided, Harry figured out a couple more things. The area on his right side was less extreme than the rest of him. Must be Hermione, his brain informed him, she's the only one that could take his pain away like that, even if it was just a little. He could feel her breathing, her chest rising and falling against his side, but again, the area she was in contact with was less painful. Not to say it wasn't in pain, just that it was less. She was curled against him, using his shoulder as a pillow, and he was finally aware of something other than pain as he inhaled the sweet perfume of her shampoo.

The sweet flowery scent was joined by others, his enhanced senses told him. He could smell potions, fresh laundry, sterilization charms, and the faint coppery smell of blood. The Hospital wing, he figured. This was good, for it meant he wasn't dead yet. This was also bad because he was sure Hermione would see to that oversight once she knew he was awake.

The gentle caress of reassurance, love and the promise of retribution that floated to him over their link told him that time had come. Grimacing as he moved, his skin telling him just how much it disliked moving, he gently kissed the top of her hair.

"Hi." His parched lips protested. "Did everyone make it out ok?"

"No," She sighed, and he heard the restrained anger in her voice, "you did not make it out ok, mister. Of all the idiotic, moronic, stupid things you could have done, that was the best you could come up with?"

"It worked, didn't it?" he asked. "You and the rest are safe; nothing was stopping it and I was out of time." He felt her look, the emotions behind it assaulting him over the link. "Ok, so it was an act of desperation. But I knew as soon as it caught me it would come after you." He shuddered at the thought, the pain a distant second to the thought of that creature getting to Hermione. "I had to do something, I had to protect you."

"I can take care of myself you know," she informed him, but the love pouring to him told him she understood. "I still don't like it, but even now I can't really blame you. I probably would have done the same if I could have."

"The others?" Harry inquired, now assured he would live through his wife's ire. "Anyone else hurt?"

"The rest of your companions are fine Mr. Potter," the stern voice of Madam Pomfrey informed him, "You, however, will take a while. Are you intentionally not opening your eyes or can you not?"

"Keeping them shut. Pain has my senses dialed up and not looking to blind myself just yet."

"Well, it's nine o'clock at night, so I think it's safe."

Slowly, Harry cracked one eye open. The room was well lit, well, well-lit to him. His night vision had jumped in effectiveness after his first transformation, letting him see almost as good at night as at noon. Candles flared painfully bright, but he allowed his vision to adjust. He was once again in 'his' bed in the hospital wing, Hermione limpeted to his side. He could tell several other beds were filled, but none seemed to be critically injured. His head rolled to look down at Hermione and the silver blonde hair in the bed next to them caught his eye. Glancing at the other beds in more detail, he realized that everyone else from the task was asleep around them.

"I thought you said everyone was ok?" He asked, a hint of fear in his voice.

"They are, they all refused to leave," the matron half growled, half grinned. "I did want to keep an eye on them anyway given that thing you encountered."

"What was it anyway?" Hermione asked. "I don't recognize it from any of the descriptions I've read."

"I'm not sure, nor is anyone I've asked. It was not added for the tournament, like the Kappa were. No one knows what it was."

"Yeah, I bet the Merfolk were pleased to hear that was intentional." Harry groaned. "Let me guess, Bagman and Crouch added them to 'increase the difficulty' and Dumbledore saw no problem with it?"

"Pretty much," Pomfrey confirmed. "The creature was of unknown origin. Not even sure what it is, much less where it's from."

"Is it dead or is it still out there?"

"Dead, your explosion seems to have burst most of its internal organs from the pressure wave. They fished it out of the lake after they picked up your friends. Best experts readily available don't have a clue other than possibly some variant of a Hippocampus."

"Ask the Merfolk," Harry suggested. "They know more about undersea creatures than most."

"They aren't talking to us," Hermione said. "Apparently Dumbledore inquired with them shortly after they got us into the Hospital wing, but the Chieftainess was less than happy with him. She hasn't come back despite his demands."

"Demands?" Harry asked. "Let me guess, he hasn't gone to her, just demands she attends him? Has anyone contacted Mr. O'Connor?"

"Got it in one." Hermione said. "And he should be here tomorrow morning."

"Good, then when he gets here I'll go down…"

"No, you won't Mr. Potter." Pomprey cut him off. "One of the others may, but you will be right here, or at least in your quarters."

"But…"

"No buts, Harry," his wife cut him off this time, "you're one giant bruise, what do you think the water pressure will do to you at that depth?"

"I, uh…." Harry quelled under Hermione's arched eyebrow. "Yes dear."

"Now that that is settled," Pomfrey chuckled, "I know you just woke up but sleep is the best thing for you. Your w— Your Girlfriend was kind enough to help apply your bruise cream, but given the depths of the bruising, it will be at least a day or two before it truly clears up. If you get a good night's sleep tonight, I may be persuaded to release you to your rooms tomorrow. If you fight me on this, I'll be forced to keep you here for at least the next several days. What will it be, Mr. Potter?"

The Great Hall fell silent as the eight entered for lunch the next day. It had been more than twenty-four hours since anyone had seen the Champions or their hostages. Twenty-four hours since everyone had watched the abomination that had attacked the Champions dragged from the lake, bleeding purple blood from every orifice. Twenty-four hours since the solemn company had been sequestered in the Hospital wing.

"HARRY!"

Harry bit back a scream of pain as a redheaded missile impacted him, hugging him tight.

"I'm so glad you're up and ok," Ginny Weasley chattered at him. "I was so glad you found a way to keep me safe, I hate the water and would have hated being your hostage. I would have thought, for you, but you found a way to keep me safe, so considerate… what, let go of me!"

Ginny struggled as her brothers pried her off of Harry, allowing Hermione to hold him upright as he dealt with the pain. Ginny struggled against her captors, trying to break free as Fred and George pulled her bodily from the hall.

The occupants of the hall watched as the group slowly moved to the end of the Gryffindor table, everyone keeping pace with Harry as he limped with Hermione's help to his seat. Once they were seated, the Champions surrounded by their friends, Fred and George joining them without their sister. Faye was down the table a ways and merely nodded to them, before returning to her conversation with Padma who was visiting her sister. The whispers and looks started as they finished seating themselves, only to be cut off as Dumbledore rose at the head table.

"Good afternoon students. I hope you will forgive my interruption but there are some items to address. First, I hope you join me in welcoming Mr. Potter and his friends back from their stay in the Hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey informs me they are all well on their way to recovery." The old professor led the assembled students in a less than wholesome round of applause. "Very good, very good. Next, due to the dramatic ending to the second task yesterday, we still have scores to award. Due however, to the lack of information on the events below the surface, certain assumptions had to be made…"

"And why is that professor?" Someone from Hufflepuff shouted.

"Pardon?" The Headmaster was nonplussed by the shouted questions.

"You knew it would be underwater, how come you didn't make some arrangement to monitor them while they were underwater?" The seventh-year puff stood. "The rest of us were stuck watching the lake, but shouldn't the judges have had some way to see what was going on?"

"Indeed, we had arranged for the Merfolk to monitor," Dumbledore acknowledged. "Unfortunately, they were unable to make a report before the allotted time for scoring…"

"I see," a Claw stood now, "So you based it on the reports of the Champions. Makes sense, thank you headmaster."

"No, unfortunately they were all sequestered in the Hospital wing."

"Then where did you base the scores on, the time it took to get the hostage to the surface?" Fred, or was it George, called.

"That was a factor, as were several others such as the prep the champion took and the spells used." Dumbledore continued, pushing his delivery of the scores before anyone else could interrupt. "In first place, with a score of 46 points, is Viktor Krum." Cheers from the Slytherins and some restrained cheers from the Durmstrang students. "Tied in second, with 43 points each, Cedric Diggory and Fleur Delecour." There was confused murmuring at this, especially from the Puffs who looked to their Champion and saw the anger on his face, as well as all the others involved in the task. "And finally, in last place, Harry Potter with 37 points."

Pandemonium reigned.

Several minutes later, after many shouted calls for silence and finally a trio of cannon blast spells, the Great Hall finally subsided. Whether it was cheering from the Slytherins over Harry's poor scores or cries of outrage over the same, it seemed like everyone had a reaction to the announcement. As people finally settled, a lone figure stood once more. From the end of the Gryffindor table, Viktor Krum stood and addressed the head table.

"Headmasters, Headmistress," He began, addressing the trio, "I vould like to know the breakdown of the scores, if I may."

"I don't see how that is relevant Mr. Krum," Dumbledore said placatingly. "The scores are the scores; does it really matter who got what score from whom?"

"If my suspicions are correct, then yes they are." Krum answered confidently. "By my figures, four of the five could have given a score of nine to everyone, as we worked together and all four hostages surfaced at the same time. The last could then have scored excessively high or low based on spite, not performance."

"I'm not sure what you are insinuating Mr. Krum," Dumbledore sounded affronted, "But I assure you that all the scores are fair."

"If that is true, Headmaster," Fleur stood next to her fellow Champion, "then why not share that information? Or are you afraid everyone will see that once again you have failed?"

"I beg your pardon?" Dumbledore was definitely affronted now.

"Enough!"

The whole room quieted as a wave of magic flowed across the room accompanying the shout that echoed through the hall. Slowly Harry stood, shakily, helped by Hermione. Everyone was silent as the battered and bruised champion slowly hobbled his way to the front of the hall, Hermione ever present at his side.

"Thank you for the support guys, but it doesn't matter now." His voice was quiet as he addressed his fellow champions, but it could be heard easily everywhere in the room. "Everyone knows that four of the judges were fair, one was not. Seeing as all of us worked together and used the same preparations, this would normally be surprising. It is not. Yes, Viktor and myself used Gillyweed while Cedric and Fleur used bubblehead charms, but everyone saw us leave together, and return the same. Yes, I was the last to surface, having to be saved after the attack that neutralized the Hipposquid or Hellacampus or whatever the bloody hell that was.

"Everyone knows that the organizers introduced an invasive foreign species because it would up the danger factor, without regard to the reactions of the indigenous species. By the way, Headmaster, that is the real reason the Merfolk aren't talking to you. They are just short of demanding your head over adding the Kappa to the lake. Mr. O'Connor, the translator that we employed during our negotiations to correct the errors you made in the initial preparations for the task, says you are now persona non grata. I would avoid visiting them for the foreseeable future if I were you.

"But all that doesn't matter, because despite all that, even if the despicable element that is abusing his position is censored, the scores are in and can't be changed." He let that soak in for a second, taking several deep breaths before continuing. Turning back to face the hall, he persisted. "But I don't care about that. All I care about is that the damn thing is over, that Hermione is safe, and Merlin willing, this whole farce is nearly over. I have faced far too much bigotry and hate, over something I wanted no part of, to care anymore.

"Now if you will excuse me, I'm tired. In the last few months, I've been roasted, speared, ridiculed, had multiple bones shattered, and been blown up. So far it's about par for one of my school years but now I've lost my appetite over this posturing and just want to rest."

The hall remained quiet as he descended from the dias upon which the head table rested. The Headmasters called after him, demanding his return, Dumbledore may even have threatened detentions and point loss, but Harry wasn't paying attention. As he walked between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables, the occupants stood as he passed them. To the left he saw the Hufflepuffs do the same. About halfway to the doors, a clap sounded. Then another. Three more. By the time he passed the end of the tables, and the rest of the champions and their friends joined them, three quarters of the school was standing and applauding them.

It continued long after the doors closed behind them.