Reconciliation

Severus opened his door after hearing a soft tapping. Winter break was over and tomorrow classes resumed. He had been hoping to get some sleep, but fate conspired against him. Scowling, expecting a whining Slytherin, he was surprised to find Silas standing on the other side. He had talked to Harry just that afternoon, and he seemed to be doing well, considering everything.

"I see you still have the game board out," Silas commented as Severus shut the door behind him. The teen moved slowly over to his normal seat and sat down, gazing at the chess pieces thoughtfully before moving a pawn forward one.

Severus had no idea what Silas was after, but he knew from experience that he gained more by letting things move at the teen's pace. So he swept his robes out behind him with his hands and sat across from his student. He eyed the board and moved a pawn out two spaces. They played in silence for many minutes. Silas sat still except for when he moved a piece. His dark messy bangs hung over his face and obscured his eyes, leaving Severus a view of a straight nose and tightly held lips. Severus continued to watched and to wait.

Silas had come for advice, but now that he was sitting across from his mentor he found himself reluctant to speak. It was galling. He hated the idea that he needed help. With anything. Needing help implied he was incapable and weak, did it not? To willingly put himself in the position of supplicant was repulsive on many levels, but he had done it before. He was the one to write to Professor Snape and ask for help almost two years ago. It had been hard, but he had known when to reach out. So why was it so hard now?

He hid a grimace as the answer came to him: Lockhart. Ever since he had taken the memories and trauma of the molestation, he had been distrustful, even aggressively against anyone trying to help. And that couldn't be tolerated any longer. Ever since Severus had revealed the damage done by him trying to occupy the same space as Harry, by him becoming so involved in the everyday world and living, he had the chance to pull back and reevaluated his purpose and goals.

He realized that he had been neglecting the bigger picture- the threat of Voldemort and his unknown agents. It was his job to make sure they were protected from threats coming at them from a distance by planning and being prepared. It was Harry's job to deal with the day to day relationships, dramas, problems, and confrontations. The fact that Silas had become so entwined where he didn't belong in the first place meant Severus was probably right. He was getting closer to being ready to merge. And that scared him worse than anything.

Merging meant he would be sacrificing aspects of his personality to be suppressed by some of Harry's. They would be one person, one face, one soul, and Silas didn't know what that would mean for them. Would it make them stronger? Would it make them more vulnerable? Silas couldn't risk it. He had to be here to make things work. To protect Harry from the Inside, and watch out for threats that were too subtle for Harry to recognize on the Outside.

More than that, Silas couldn't bear the thought of relinquishing parts of himself. Submission had never sat well with him, but now the word was something foul. It was something that invoked his memories of Lockhart. His personality had been suppressed then, too. He was made to believe that what was happening was alright and good, and that had been a lie. So was the rightness of merging a lie as well?

So he had pulled back. He had retreated in their shared mind, doing what he was suppose to be doing from the beginning. Watching, learning, plotting, and letting Harry deal with the world. His input wasn't needed. Harry didn't need his opinions. It was Harry's life Out there. Silas had to leave it alone, and only support Harry or make himself heard when it was truly important. And it had worked. The mental tension between them had relaxed.

But he hadn't counted on how unhappy it would make his Host alter. Harry still tried to speak to him, still felt worried about him. Silas wanted to mend the hurt he had unintentionally caused by becoming so involved in Harry's conscious life, but he didn't know how. He didn't think communicating to him was a good thing. It might pull them back to the cliff edge of merging or fighting against each other.

Not only did he need advice about Harry's unhappiness, he needed help with the whole Crouch/Voldemort thing. He knew Crouch was working for the Dark Lord (doing whatever the Dark Lord was trying to do, Silas still didn't know what the plan was), but he couldn't be the only one. There was at least one more agent, the one who put the name Harry Potter into the Goblet of Fire in a way that ensured it came out. Time was running out and interrogating Winky after the meeting in the woods Christmas night, had turned up nothing. She had been unable to speak and had only become hysterical when pressed. He and Draco had Obliviated her of their awareness and of the interrogation, and then released her. What else could they do?

So he needed to bow his head and ask Severus for help. But it was physically painful. He felt nauseous. Taking a deep breath, he figured he could work his way up to actually asking for help. The man wasn't going anywhere. "I learned some interesting things last week."

"Did you?" Severus asked indifferently, moving his rook and taking Silas' bishop.

"I did," Silas smile coldly. He had to admit this man was a much better chess player than him, no matter how hard he tried. And with him distracted with his inner conflicts, Severus was killing him. The game was very obviously lost in his teacher's favor. Maybe he could do some distracting himself. "How is your arm tonight?"

Severus stilled and looked at him intently. "You overheard my conversation."

"Why didn't you tell me about it darkening?" Silas asked bluntly, lifting his chin enough to meet the man's eyes.

"It is faint, and I am uncertain as to it's significance. I did not deign it worthwhile to mention. Besides, you have not been very accessible to communicating." Severus lifted a shoulder in a miniscule shrug and moved his castle, preparing for the check-mate.

"True," Silas admitted with gritted teeth. That had his teacher looking up at him with surprise. Silas felt it was almost worth displaying his weakness if it put that expression on the insufferable man's face. Almost. He swallowed his fear and anger, forcing himself to continue. "I am open to communicating now."

Severus sat back in his chair, quickly blanking his face. "Alright," he said lightly and gestured for the teen to talk.

Silas stalled a moment more by moving a pawn. "I need advice." He waited for Severus to make his counter-move before continuing. "Winky met with Crouch the night of the ball. I questioned her afterward, but she is so entangled in her two sworn bonds of service that there was no getting anything from her. We still don't know the identity of the one who ensured I'd be in this tournament. There's a little over a month before the second task. We need to figure out Voldemort's plans, and soon."

"And you wish advice on the next step?" Severus asked carefully, secretly pleased that Silas said "I" instead of Harry when referring to the goblet.

"Yes," Silas nodded. "Is there anyway you can question Crouch, get information from him about what is planned for the tournament? Or a way to get answers from that damn Winky?"

"I'm afraid Winky is a lost cause," Severus said thoughtfully, his dark eyes staring over the teen's shoulder. "Crouch… He is an influential man in the Ministry. It will be very difficult to maneuver him into a position of vulnerability that we could exploit. And a direct confrontation is not advisable. The most we can do is keep an eye on his movements and associates."

"So what do we do?" Silas snarled, disgusted with their helplessness.

Severus brought his attention to the teen. All of a sudden he realized just how young Silas was. Despite his impressive intelligence and cleverness, he was still fourteen and relatively inexperienced with the world. A lot of his frustration built up for the Core alter began to dissipate. Were he in Silas' place, he probably wouldn't be handling things as well as the teen was managing to do.

"We go after someone close to him who is not as guarded," he drawled, a smile of anticipation curling his mouth.

Silas considered this and after a few minutes he smiled in return. "Ludo Bagman. We can start there. He seems to know Crouch well, and he seems overly impressed with the Boy-Who-Lived."

"True, but I am uncertain you should do the questioning," Severus murmured. "We don't want him to become suspicious and alert Crouch."

"So you will question him?" Silas asked with narrowed eyes.

"I will arrange something, yes." Severus inclined his head, waiting for the verdict.

Silas grit his teeth. If he agreed, he would be relinquishing control of their only lead completely. If he didn't, he could take the risk and do things himself. It all came down to trust. Something Silas wasn't capable of. "I want to be kept well informed," Silas warned. Well, maybe he was capable of it since he just did. But it hadn't been easy. His skin had broken out in a cold sweat and his heart was thumping hard against his ribs.

Severus had to viciously smoother the proud smile that fought to the surface of his face. He knew that would only heighten Silas' discomfort. So instead he bowed his head and said, "Of course. I will tell you when I know anything."

"I also wanted to ask your opinion on the situation with Harry." Silas said this casually, but he couldn't meet his teacher's eyes. "He is distressed that I no longer communicate with him. He even feels it's because I am upset or angry with him. Should I reassure him that I am not angry with him? Should he be informed of what we have learned about Crouch?"

Severus brought his hands up before his mouth. This was actually a hard question. He was no more happy about Harry's distress than Silas. But he really felt they should not communicate directly. "I will talk with him. I will reassure him and explain what is happening. I assume I have permission to tell him you are well and not distressed with him or the necessary silence?"

Silas nodded stiffly. "Tell him…" He couldn't believe how much he wanted to talk to Harry himself. It was aggravating to have to go through Severus. And what he wanted to say was humiliating and personal. But he had already brought himself low, and there was no way he was going to do this again so he might as well get all the humiliating things over with. "That I am the other half of his soul. The wording is important. He will understand."

Severus was very shocked at such intimate words, shocked that so much trust was suddenly being placed in him. He was so startled, that he said nothing as the teen stood and excused himself, slipping quietly from the room. He looked down at the chess board and allowed himself a broad smile as he tipped over Silas' king. Checkmate.

xXxXxXx

"How could you?" Harry snarled in a cold, furious voice. He had Draco by the front of his robes, half strangling him as he growled not two inches from his face.

The blonde smirked, but when he spoke his voice was soft so only Harry could hear. "If I didn't, then Nott would have. At least I guided the insults to ones that are more easily countered."

"Why would you help?" Harry whispered, his grip lessening in his shock. "You don't care about Hagrid. You tried to get him fired last year."

Draco yanked away and straightened his robes with a disgusted glare. He looked down his aristocratic nose at the bespectacled teen before him and sneered, "It is not my fault that you like the lug. I would recommend getting better friends."

Harry blinked after the blonde, only vaguely listening to the hateful sputtering of Ron and Hermione who had come up beside him. Harry realized Draco's attitude was an act. That he had done what he could to help Hagrid. And if Harry understood him correctly, Draco just admitted that there was only one reason he had done so: Harry liked Hagrid. And Draco was Harry's friend, so he had done what he could despite his real dislike of their professor.

Harry was shocked. He had assumed Draco was only decent to him because he was Silas' friend, and Silas would care if Draco attacked him. (At least, Harry thought he cared. The Slytherin alter was still mad and not talking to him.) But Harry knew Silas wouldn't be distraught over Hagrid losing his job or even being tormented by the press. It wouldn't bother him either way. So unless he didn't know something, Draco hadn't done this for Silas. The blonde had done it for Harry.

"Harry? You alright, mate?" Ron asked, his hand stuffed deep in his robe pockets.

"Yeah." Harry shook his head, becoming aware of the frigid air and icy snow all around them. Professor Grubby-Plank was lecturing about the unicorn all the girls were hovering around while all the boys shifted in place and tried desperately to get warm. Harry's eyes kept straying to Draco, but the Slytherin was very emphatically not paying any attention to him.

"What did he say?" Neville asked quietly when Dean, Seamus, and Ron began a heated argument about Quidditch and were sufficiently distracted.

"He said he had to do it, but he made the insults ones easy to argue against. Like when Vince said he got bit by a flobberworm, when flobberworms don't have teeth," Harry whispered with wide eyes, still shocked.

Neville's mouth fell open, "Really?"

"Yeah." Harry shook his head and smiled. "And I'm not sure… You know how Slytherins sometimes talk… but I think he said I was his friend."

"Wow," Neville breathed, his eyes wide. "He sure has come around, huh?"

"You can say that again," Harry agreed fervently. He remembered the Brat Prince very well, thank you. "I wish I knew what happened to change his stance and beliefs. In any case, Silas must have made a huge impact on him."

"Harry, who do you think has the better Keeper?" Ron interrupted, his face flush with anger. "England or Ireland?"

"I don't know," he grinned and joined his classmates, tugging a bemused Neville along.

xXxXxXx

Harry pulled off his invisibility cloak and smiled up at his teacher. Severus inclined his head in greeting and gestured to the couch. Shaking his head with a near silent chuckle, Harry settled into his spot. It was always relaxing, coming down here. It was like… coming home. He sighed in content and leaned back comfortably as his mentor took his accustomed seat across from him.

"What are you so happy about?" Severus questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm actually not sure," Harry shrugged. "Hermione and Ron are fighting because Hermione and Viktor are getting closer. And Hagrid wouldn't come out of his cabin even when I begged him. Why is everyone acting so stupid about this?" The teen frowned.

"You are aware of the capricious nature of wizarding society," Severus flicked his fingers languidly. "Just give Hagrid time. He'll come around and realize that only certain opinions matter. His position as professor is quite safe."

"Good," Harry smiled again. "But other than those two things, I feel like things are going well. I did better on my midterms than I thought I would. Hermione and Viktor are really getting along. I think they might be falling in love. Neville is doing excellent. Ms. Flitwick is doing wonders. And we've made a lot of progress in studying the Animagus transformation. Hermione might be ready to make the potion soon in a few weeks. The only thing that really worries me is Silas." Harry's good mood diminished as he looked down at his hands folded in his lap.

"Harry, Silas is doing what is best," Severus said with a gentleness that would have surprised anyone except Harry. "It is not because he is mad in any sense. He has just retreated to give you room to think and live without restriction. When he is ready, he will put himself forward again and the merge will come very soon after."

"I know that, but…" Harry sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "It's still hard. He comes Out without warning or telling me what he's doing."

Severus nodded, "Partially he is studying. He has also returned to attempting to unravel Voldemort's plots. Winky has met with Crouch during the ball. That is why he sent Percy in his stead. He is definitely up to no good. Unfortunately, Crouch is out of Silas' reach and out of mine as well. Instead, I plan on arranging a chance to question Bagman. He will be more susceptible to my influence."

"Oh," Harry frowned and bit his lip. "I could help… I don't see how, but I want to."

"Silas knows that," his mentor said with a slight smile. "Trust me. You are helping by just doing what you're doing. He told me to tell you something. His exact words were, 'You are the other half of my soul'."

Harry sucked in a surprised breath and let it out in a whoosh, tears rising in his eyes. For the first time, he really believed Silas wasn't mad at him. Not for involving himself with Draco, not for merging, or anything else. He remembered his last view of the mental sitting room, of Silas looking at him with anxiety, and promising the Slytherin that they weren't really being separated. He had said Silas was his other half, and he was. His other self.

The tension in Harry gave way and he knew that he should just relax and let Silas do as he wished. He acted for both of them. Harry didn't need to know what he was doing or thinking. He didn't need to speak to him. They were extensions of the same self. Harry could trust him explicitly, and Silas was trusting him in return. They each had their own jobs, they each had a purpose. Harry had to trust in that. He had to do the best he could on his end and let Silas do what he had to do on the Slytherin end.

"Thank you, Severus," Harry whispered, eyes bright. "I think I understand now."

Severus stood, uncomfortable with the naked gratitude and love shining in the teen's eyes. "Let us spar. You need to keep in shape."

"Look who's talking, old man," Harry laughed. He jumped to his feet and chased after his mentor, feeling lighter than he had in a while. Yes. Today had been a very good day, despite everything.

xXxXxXx

Dumbledore, who was still frequently absent from the school for unknown reasons, made the second weekend after the first week of school a Hogsmeade weekend. Harry, Neville, Hermione, and Ron all stopped by Hagrid's hut, as they did everyday for the past two weeks, before heading into the town. Again their friend didn't answer. Since the article in the Daily Prophet, the half-giant had refused to show his face.

The four of them went to the candy store first, but the weather was so wet and cold that they went to the pub to get hot drinks afterward. They were just settling down when a disapproving Hermione asked if Bagman ever went to the office like he was suppose to. Harry's head snapped around and he stared. He knew Snape was suppose to be talking to the man to find out what was going on with Crouch, but he hadn't heard anything about the success of that plan. Without giving it another fault, Harry fell backwards and Silas rose to the front.

The Slytherin was impressed. That had been the smoothest transition they had ever experienced before. He turned to the other teens around him and tried to give a careless smile. "I'll be right back. Wait here, okay?"

The others nodded and Silas approached the tournament judge. Bagman was sitting at a table with four goblins and they didn't look happy. Silas studied the situation with narrowed eyes. Goblins ran the bank. Did Ludo have money trouble? Did he owe some? He looked away and went to the bar. He couldn't just walk up to the man. Bagman had to come to him. Sure enough, he was just turning around with a butterbeer when he heard the rotund man shout.

"Harry!" The man was smiling boyishly as he hurried up to him. The goblins he had abandoned watched with hard, inhuman eyes. "How are you? Been hoping to run into you! Everything going alright?"

"Fine, thanks," Silas smiled smoothly back. He moved as if to go back to his table and the blonde man quickly grabbed his arm.

"Can I have a word with you? In private? It'll just take a moment."

Silas looked into Bagman's seemingly guileless blue eyes and tried to mimic the effect, "Sure, Mr. Bagman."

"Just Ludo, please," he smiled as he towed Silas to the end of the bar away from other customers and Rosmerta.

Bagman smiled and his voice became eager. "I just wanted to congratulate you again, Harry. The way you handled that horntail was truly superb!"

"Thank you, sir," Silas said easily. He glanced into the mirror beside them and noticed the goblins were still staring intently at Ludo. "Ummm, may I ask? What's wrong with the goblins? Are they always like that?"

"Absolute nightmare." The man ran a hand over his bald spot nervously. "Their English isn't too good… It's like being back with all the Bulgarians at the Quidditch World Cup, but at least they used sign language another human could recognize. This lot keep gabbling in Gobbledygook."

"What do they want?" Silas asked innocently as he tried to plan on how to steer the conversation to Crouch.

"Er - well…" Bagman looked distinctly anxious. Sweat was beading on his forehead and the man was patting at it nervously. "They… er… they're looking for Barty Crouch."

Well, that was easy, Silas grinned internally. "Why are they looking for him here?" He made himself look confused. "He's at the Ministry in London, isn't he?"

"Er… as a matter of fact, I've no idea where he is. He's sort of… stopped coming to work. Been absent for a couple of weeks now, since that ball. Young Percy, his assistant, say's he's ill, but that he'll still be able to judge the next task in the tournament. Percy's handling all of Barty's Ministry work otherwise. Apparently he's just been sending instructions by owl. But would you mind not mentioning that to anyone, Harry? Because Rita Skeeter's still poking around everywhere she can, and I'm willing to bet she'd work up Barty's illness into something sinister. Probably say he's gone missing like Bertha Jorkins."

"Have you heard anything about Ms. Jorkins?" Silas asked, amazed how willing Ludo was to spill information.

"No," Bagman said, looking strained. "I've got people looking, of course, and it's all very strange. She definitely arrived in Albania, because she met her second cousin there. And then she left the cousin's house to go south to see an aunt, and she seems to have vanished without a trace en route. Blowed if I can see where she's got to… She doesn't seem the type to elope, for instance… What are we doing talking about goblins and Bertha Jorkins, anyway? I really wanted to ask you how you are getting on with your golden egg?"

"Not bad," Silas answered, surprised at the turn in the conversation.

"Listen, Harry," Bagman said earnestly. "I feel real bad about all this. You were thrown into the tournament without warning and you're not as advanced as any of the other champions. If I can help you at all, I would be very pleased, very pleased in deed. How about a hint? A prod in the right direction?"

Silas stared expressionlessly, "No thanks. I've already figured out the egg." He suspected a trap somewhere with Bagman and he didn't want to be punished because the judge caught him cheating.

Bagman's face transformed into something angry and Silas wrapped his hand around his wand, stowed in his pocket. But before the man could say anything, Fred and George appeared with too bright smiles. "Hello, Mr. Bagman!" "We were wondering if we could buy you a drink." The anxious look returned and the man made his excuses before fleeing. Fred and George followed after him while Silas returned thoughtfully to the sitting room and Harry rejoined his friends.

Rita Skeeter showed up next and after a heated argument between the four teens and the reporter, Harry decided he had enough of Hogsmeade. His friends followed him and they were just in time to see Dumbledore gain entrance to Hagrid's hut.

Harry would rather avoid the arrogant headmaster as much as he could. Just the sight of the old man had him grinding his teeth with impotent rage. But this was their only chance to see Hagrid, so Harry followed his three friends when they hurried to join Dumbledore in Hagrid's hut. Together they all convinced Hagrid that no one who mattered cared he was a half-giant and that he should come back to teaching. Of course, no good deed goes unpunished and Dumbledore cornered Harry after the pep-talk and 'invited' him to his office that night.

xXxXxXx

"I'm here," Harry glared and crossed his arms over his chest. It was eight at night and Dumbledore sat behind his desk with a sickeningly sweet smile on his hairy face. He had refused the seat the old man had offered him; the headmaster merely chuckled at him. Harry's whole body tensed as he fought the urge to scream and do some serious damage.

"Gabriel, my boy. How are you? Is the investigation of the egg going well?" Dumbledore leaned back in his chair completely at ease, his eyes twinkling.

"What do you want?" Harry ground out.

"Straight to business?" Dumbledore laughed again and leaned forward casually. "Very well. Rest with ease, child."

Harry blinked. What was that suppose… Oh! He had almost forgotten about the whole mental leash thing. 'Godric's sword' was suppose to bring Gabriel forward and 'Rest with ease' was suppose to push him back. He allowed himself to fall back with an irritated scowl. He thought he almost heard Silas laughing at him as he fell.

Albus frowned. Usually his trigger phrases worked much more quickly than they had tonight. But they were still holding, so he figured he didn't have to worry about it yet. Silas straightened, his face going neutral. He inclined his head and said a polite, "Headmaster." Albus smiled happily. Silas reminded him more and more of Severus, and the man was very much his. Silas was would be his as well.

"I found another memory I feel important for you to view," he explained graciously. He stood and went to his special cabinet, taking out the Pensieve there and setting in the center of his desk. The teen eyed it expressionlessly. "Shall we?" Albus asked as he made a sweeping gesture over the blue-silver liquid.

They both entered the memory. It was night. A storm was raging outside. They were in a church and three woman were in front of them, two of them nuns. One was Merope. She was filthy and sick looking, her face twisted in agony as she gave birth to her son. Her screams echoed off the tall bare walls.

"We have to back track a bit in our understanding of Tom's life," Dumbledore murmured. "I was very lucky to recover this memory and one other just last week. I've been doing research, trying to find as many memories that might give us insight into the Dark Lord's weaknesses as possible. This particular memory is from the nun to the right, the one by Merope's head."

Silas nodded, noticing that the nun Dumbledore was pointing out had been young, about sixteen or seventeen. She would be in her late eighties or early nineties now. The birth was hard and long, but they had arrived at the end. Only a few minutes later, there was a loud cry and Tom was born.

"Thomas Marvolo Riddle," Merope whispered. There was no love in her voice, but there was a triumphant pride. "Thomas Riddle after his father; Marvolo for his grandfather."

And then Merope died. Silas and the headmaster were ejected from the Pensieve, but Dumbledore quickly gathered up the first memory in a glass vial and poured a new one in, gesturing for Silas to return inside the Pensieve. This time they were in the broken down cabin Silas remembered being the Gaunt's. Morfin, stupid dirty Morfin, was huddled in the corner when a teenage Voldemort came into the room without knocking.

"This was either just before or after Tom graduated from Hogwarts," Dumbledore murmured.

Silas watched as Tom and Morfin argued in Parseltongue. The teen wondered what Dumbledore was thinking about all of this. He obviously couldn't tell what they were saying. Suddenly the memory went dark, as if all the light in the world went suddenly out. Dumbledore grabbed Silas' arm and then they were standing in the headmaster's office once more.

"Why did it go dark?" Silas asked.

"Because Morfin could not remember anything from that point onward," Dumbledore explained with a gentle smile. "When he awoke the next morning, he was laying on the floor, quite alone. Marvolo's ring had gone. Meanwhile, in the village of Little Hangleton, a maid was running along the High Street, screaming that there were three bodies lying in the drawing room of the big house: Thomas Riddle Senior and Mr. and Mrs. Riddle, Voldemort's grandparents."

"Killing Curse?" Silas lifted an eyebrow.

"Yes. The Ministry knew at once when they saw the bodies. They also knew a convicted Muggle-hater who had already been imprisoned once for attacking one of the murdered people. So the Ministry called upon Morfin. They did not need to question him, to use Veritaserum or Legilimency. He admitted to the murder on the spot, giving details only the murderer could know. He was proud, he said, to have killed the Muggles, had been awaiting his chance all these years. He handed over his wand which was proved at once to have been used to kill the Riddles. And he permitted himself to be led off to Azkaban without a fight."

"How did you get this?" Silas gestured at the Pensieve and the memory it contained.

"I was able to secure a visit to Morfin in the last weeks of his life. I had previously been denied access, but with the tournament distracting the Ministry, especially since there is a great political battle going on right now about legalities. I extracted this memory with difficulty. When I saw what it contained, I attempted to use it to secure Morfin's release. But the poor man died the next day."

I'm sure you tried to get Voldemort's broken and murderous uncle out of Azkaban, Silas sneered silently. I bet you were the one that killed him.

Dumbledore rambled on about the ring being missing and how Voldemort had framed his uncle. Silas didn't listen. He was too busy with his own thoughts. When he was finally dismissed, Silas made his way down to the dungeons. On the way, he picked up Remus and Neville. He was glad Hogwarts was still keeping his presence untraceable to the headmaster at night. The four of them discussed the memories had seen and the memories Dumbledore had shown him before that night. They still didn't know how they could be important, but all of them felt like there was something there.

xXxXxXx

The weekend sped by. Harry did homework, spared, and played piano. His friends were getting closer to understanding the Animagus transformation, and Harry and Neville thought they would be able to try it by summer. Ginny started hanging out with them a bit in the common room as classes started again, and her addition made Hermione happier and Neville rather flustered. Harry laughed at them all.

Moody began teaching them to duel and the spells he was teaching them were getting steadily more violent. This week they were learning how to blow inanimate, wood based things up. Severus was teaching them poisons still, and had made Lavender drink her potion. Thankfully, Seamus' antidote worked and she was spared a trip to the Infirmary. McGonagall was teaching them interspecies Transfiguration and Flitwick was teaching them charms that allowed an object to defy it's natural state, like making it shrink or float or become lighter. Hagrid was back at Care of Magical Creatures, and they were still struggling with the Blast-ended Skrewts. Professor Sprout had them battling man-eating plants.

So by Thursday, Harry was feeling a little rough around the edges. On top of his increasingly demanding classes, Thursday was exactly one month away from the Second Task. Harry still hadn't even tried to de-code the damn egg. With a sigh, he figured he could give Cedric's strange advice a shot. He was running out of time.

That night, while everyone was sleeping, Harry grabbed his Invisibility Cloak and snuck down to the prefect's bathroom. Feeling a bit embarrassed, he whispered the password and entered. Harry pulled off the cloak with his mouth falling open. The bathroom was huge. The floor was a pink marble, the walls were white. Steam wove through the air like a thick blanket. The bath itself was as large as a small pool and four feet deep at the end. Dozens of colored bottles containing every kind of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash reflected the soft light into beautiful rainbows.

Harry grinned and set the egg on the side of the bath before climbing in. A soft sigh of pure bliss escaped his lips as he submerged his body completely. It was heaven! The warmth soaked down to his very bones and had him relaxed and peaceful in minutes. Feeling like a little kid with delight, he reached for a purple bottle and poured some into the water. Bubbles immediately began to rise and expand in a circle; they floated on the steam and Harry could a faint scent of lilac swirled lightly around him.

He played and relaxed for almost an hour before he forced himself back to the egg. He looked at it with a frown. It didn't look any different. Maybe a bit shinier because of the water beading on it's sides. He flipped it open and the loud screeching shattered the peaceful environment. Harry had been so relaxed that he jumped, dropping the egg with a loud splash. Cursing and sputtering, he dove after it. And his eyes got wide as he heard singing instead of the intolerable screech.

"Come seek us where our voices sound,

We cannot sing above the ground,

And while you're searching, ponder this:

We've taken what you'll sorely miss,

An hour long you'll have to look,

And to recover what we took,

But past an hour - the prospect's black,

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

Harry shut the egg and came gasping to the surface. He felt a scowl settle on his features. So something from the lake was going to hold hostage something that was precious to him. And if he was later than an hour getting to it, then that thing would never be returned. The fact that there was such a long time limit meant there was going to be obstacles to overcome, or he would have to battle the underwater creature that could only sing underground. He really hoped the giant squid wasn't musical in any way.

xXxXxXx

"We have a problem," Harry said glumly Friday morning at breakfast.

"What?" Neville and Ron asked together while Hermione and Ginny gave him their full attention.

Harry repeated the song he had heard, and then admitted, "I don't know how to swim, and I'm guessing that whatever it is we're facing in the lake is gonna be at the very bottom."

"Merpeople," Hermione said with a worried look. "I've read that me people can only talk underwater, so I assume they can only sing underwater as well. And in Hogwarts: A History, there's a whole chapter on the lake and it mentioned a whole mer-city is down there."

"Mermaids?" Harry frowned. "Beautiful topless fish-girls?"

"No, mate," Ron shook his head and put a consoling hand on his friend's shoulder. "The half-fish people that love to eat humans and lure them toward their water where they drown them. They're quite violent and savage. Think shark, not dolphin."

"Great." Harry threw his fork to the table. "Why would anyone volunteer for this stupid thing?"

"I don't know," Neville shook his head. Ron blushed hotly, since he had wanted to join. Hermione saw this and smiled reassuringly at him, while Ginny laughed.

"This isn't funny. I have a month to learn how to swim well and it's mid-January. The lake's freezing!"

"Viktor swims in the lake. He quite enjoys it," Hermione said with a blush. Ron glared at her and she blushed hotter. "He… uh… might be using a charm to keep himself warm or something. I can't imagine him swimming in freezing water without any kind of assistance and he certainly doesn't wear a wetsuit."

"Wet-what?" Ginny asked curiously, but Hermione just waved that aside, turning a purple with embarrassment.

"Thanks, 'Mione," Harry smiled and stood from the table. "I'll talk to him at lunch."

"I think I have an idea that might help," Neville said softly, his brown eyes bright with enthusiasm. He went to Harry's side and they walked together from the Great Hall to Charms class. "You see, there's this plant. It's called gillyweed, and it…"

xXxXxXx

The weeks passed with lightening speed. Harry took to swimming with Viktor every other day. He did, in fact, use a slight insulation charm. It took Harry almost three days to get it right, but once he did, they began his swimming lessons. The Seeker had a great time laughing at him at first, but he was patient and never let him struggle too long without help. By the end of the first week of lessons, Harry felt more confident. By the end of the second week, he was swimming deeper and farther. By the third, he was racing Viktor and coming closer to winning.

Saturday morning, four days until the second task, Harry went out to the lake for his last swimming lesson. Viktor was sitting on the bank looking vaguely evil. Harry sat next to him worriedly. "Are you alright? You're not fighting with Hermione are you?"

"No," Viktor's scowl got impossibly darker. "It is de clue. I still 'ave not guess it."

"You still have a few more days," Harry offered weakly. They had never talked about the task, and Harry had just assumed he had been the last to figure it out. Slowly he began to smile, but hid it quickly. "Come on. I'll race you to your ship. You can try and figure it out while I do warm-up laps."

Viktor stood and dove into the water without a word. Harry flung himself after him, pulling at the water and breathing to the side as he had been taught. He kicked hard and rhythmically, smoothing out his gait. But no matter how hard he swam, Viktor always kept ahead. Harry grinned again as Viktor reached the ladder and began to climb up, waving him off. Harry did a few laps, but climbed up after his friend ten minutes later.

Just as he hoped, Viktor was sitting near the side, the egg closed, but unlatched, in his lap. Harry walked over and stumbled, landing against his friend hard, knocking the egg over the side. Viktor cried out in dismay and dove after it. Harry laughed, but quickly wiped his smile away as Viktor came back to the surface, his eyes narrowed.

"I'm so sorry!" Harry called, pretending sorrow. "The deck is slippery right there and…"

"You should not 'ave done it," Viktor called back and Harry gulped. Then his friend smiled. "But you, I forgive."

"Thanks," Harry laughed and jumped in.

xXxXxXx

Silas made his way to the pitch, drying his hair as he went, Harry having just come from the lake. There was still snow on the ground, but hopefully there wouldn't be many more snow storms this winter. Spring was only two and a half months away. It was still cold, though. Miss Silverwood was waiting in the Quidditch stands as she was the last time. She had a white fur hat on, her golden hair falling around her shoulders in glossy ringlets. Her white robes were fur-lined and looked expensive. She batted her brown eyes at him as he again bowed over her hand.

"How have you been, Harry?" She asked sweetly.

"I've been busy," Silas answered wryly. "Things could have been better. It seems Miss Skeeter is determined to ruin my peace of mind."

"What do you mean?" She frowned, her hand discreetly holding pencil that was poised over the parchment on her lap.

"She wrote that article about my teacher, Professor Hagrid. She knew he was my friend," Silas admitted. He preceded to describe how Hagrid had introduced him to the Wizarding World, and how he was one of the only professors that always stood by him even when gossip was set against him. "He has risen above his past and is loyal to his friends and very gentle. With my own dark past… It makes me wonder if I'll be turned on just as easily by the public. I mean, everyone's known Hagrid for years and were fine with him. I don't understand how this changes who he is, or how some people can just decide all he's done no longer counts because of something that has been true all along."

"It's sad how close-minded a lot of people are," Silverwood murmured sympathetically.

"I know…" Silas sighed and then shook himself. "You didn't come to hear about Hagrid. I bet you're wondering about the task."

"I want to hear about anything you want to talk about, Harry," she smiled.

"Thank you. I wish others had your honor." Silas took her hand and kissed it. She laughed as he grinned at her. "I'm actually fairly confident about understanding the clue. I am worried though. It's going to be dangerous. All of us could be hurt. They're event taking something 'precious' from us that we might not get back if we do well…" Silas ran a hand through his hair and looked off thoughtfully. "I'm starting to wish I hadn't started this."

"Well, there are some of us rooting for you."

"Thanks," Silas gave her a soft, close-mouthed smile.

"No, thank you for talking to me. You don't have to." Silverwood stood and offered him her hand.

Silas shook it, "I'll have more exciting things to talk about after the task, I'm sure. Sorry for rambling on for so long. I'll see you next Saturday?"

"Definitely."

Chapter end. Please review!